Chapter 41: Fair Is Fair

Arthur showed his friend the way to the class, so they could at least watch their post-lunch classes.

He was already planning to introduce Alan to Kat, as they would be in the same group. But one look across the room killed the plan on sight.

Kat spoke excitedly, telling some funny story as a small orbit of girls gathered around her, all seemingly caught in her gravity.

"This way," he murmured, steering Alan toward a quiet corner in the back.

They dropped into their seats just before the teacher came in. And then, Alan propped his chin on his hand and began the long death of his soul.

Ten minutes in, his eyes had already glazed over. Twenty minutes in, he was contemplating the ceiling tiles as if they held the meaning of life. For the genius, the class was, by every measurable standard, extremely boring.

He tried playing with his phone, but he wasn’t really feeling it. There was no new Chapter for him to read, so his eyes naturally drifted sideways, focusing on Arthur, who looked strangely concentrated.

Alan’s curious gaze fell on his best friend’s phone, where he found a jumble of letters and symbols on the screen, followed by a single line:

"The hell is that?" Alan whispered.

"An enigma," Arthur whispered back, eyes still on the screen. "It’s from the otaku club’s recruitment."

Arthur explained how the Otaku Club had put out an extravagant announcement on the first day. Now, they were sending small tests to everyone who had scanned the QR code and signed up for the club’s trial.

"I’m not sure what the point is, but it’s quite fun, so I’ll complete the enigma." Arthur handed his phone to his friend so he could get a better look at the challenge.

"I think I can solve it quickly," Alan mumbled, his eyes sparkling with curiosity now that he finally had something interesting to do. "Send it to me. I want a shot."

"Okay, just a second. Let me finish this run, and I’ll send it to you."

Unfortunately, the teacher gave them an activity to complete in class, so the two couldn’t work on the enigma anymore. But at least having something to do helped Alan fight off his sleepiness.

Once the last class of the day was finally over, the two friends walked out together.

"Do you have any plans for the day?" Alan asked as they left the college.

"I’m going to the gym right now. I can’t skip a day. Do you want to come with me?"

Alan physically recoiled and assumed a defensive stance. "Absolutely not. I would rather die. Don’t even try to drag me to that hell."

"Okay, okay. I just think a bit of exercise could be good for you."

"Never!" Alan remained adamant, and both of them laughed before they were interrupted by a phone ringing.

Arthur expected it to be his, and so did Alan, but to their surprise, it was Alan who had received the call. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen.

His expression flattened, a flicker of tiredness quickly buried beneath his usual demeanor. He picked up anyway, turning slightly away.

"Yeah... Right. I’ll send it tonight. ... Yeah, same amount. Okay. Bye."

He hung up and pocketed the phone as if it were nothing.

"Sorry. Nothing important. My parents were asking me to send money again," he said lightly, shrugging.

"Again?" Arthur asked.

"They do it often, but don’t worry. They don’t even spend that much. And this gets them off my back."

Arthur frowned. "Don’t talk about your parents like that."

"It’s just facts, and you know it."

Arthur let out a sigh. "Okay. See you tomorrow."

"Yeah. I’ll see if I can get something good for lunch today." He extended his arm, asking for a fist bump, which Arthur returned.

On his way to the gym, Arthur was interrupted by a sound he knew very well: the soft crying of a kid.

Looking around, he quickly found a little girl sitting on the sidewalk, crying. Arthur recognized her immediately: Monica, the kid he had met at the apartment complex.

"Hey, hey. What happened?" he crouched beside her.

"I fell," she managed between sobs, pointing to her injured knee.

"I see, but don’t worry. Now that I’m here, you’ll be fine!" He tried to say it in a funny voice, imitating an exaggerated hero she might have seen on television. "Let me see your wound, little one."

Arthur wasn’t sure if she understood what he was going for, but at least his funny face and voice were enough to make her chuckle and forget the pain for a second.

He dropped his bag and dug through it until his fingers found what he was looking for: the small medical kit Amanda had insisted on stuffing in there weeks ago. He hadn’t expected he would actually use it, but he made a mental note to thank her later.

"Get ready," he warned, uncapping the alcohol. "This will sting a little."

"Okay!"

The alcohol touched the wound, and Monica’s crying briefly reached frequencies only dogs could hear. Arthur cleaned the scrape patiently.

"Breathe," he said. "You’re doing great. Bravest kid on this street."

"It hurts," Monica grimaced.

"I know. It means it’s working," Arthur smiled gently.

And it was exactly at this moment that Kat happened to pass by and found the scene of Arthur looming over a crying girl suspicious.

Arthur never saw the kick coming. One second he was disinfecting; the next, a foot connected squarely with his backside.

He didn’t even have time to be confused. Looking back, Monica was already on her feet, planting herself in front of him like a tiny bodyguard, arms spread, tears forgotten.

"HEY! Don’t hit my mister!"

Kat froze mid-stance, fist still raised, taking in the scene properly for the first time. She saw the medical kit in Arthur’s hands, and she finally realized what was probably happening.

"Wait, you were helping her...?" she said.

"Yes," Arthur agreed from the ground, in an angry tone.

"I..." Kat looked around, as if the street might offer her an escape route, then crouched down next to them, all her earlier queenly confidence gone. "I’m so sorry. I saw her crying, and you were... I thought..." She winced. "I attacked without thinking. I’m really sorry."

"Whatever. As you can see, I’m not doing anything suspicious," Arthur grumbled, getting back on his feet and turning his attention back to Monica.

He retook his position, and Monica held out her knee so the man could finish cleaning and bandaging it, and by the end she was sniffling only on principle.

But Kat had noticed something else. When Arthur stood up, he’d winced, and there was a fresh scrape on his knee, torn open by the pavement she’d introduced him to.

"Wait." She pointed at his leg. "You’re bleeding."

As she spoke, the man looked at her again, this time noticing she was not wearing the same clothes from earlier in class. She had probably gotten changed, also planning on hitting the gym, just like him.

"This is nothing; I can take care of it," Arthur said, pointing to his very small wound.

"You scraped yourself. Because of me." Kat’s expression shifted through several emotions in rapid succession. "That’s not okay. I can’t just... owe you one. That’s not fair."

Arthur blinked. "It’s a scrape. It’s fine."

"No. No, it’s not fine." She planted her feet and leaned closer to Arthur, looking especially cute with her worried look. "I need to pay you back somehow..."

Kat mulled it over for just a heartbeat, then, with absolute conviction, the blonde turned, arched her back, and presented her enormous rear end to him. The tight leggings clung to every curve like a second skin, the fabric stretched taut and gleaming under the light.

"Kick it," she said.

Arthur’s brain performed a hard stop.

"...What?"

"Kick me back. Then I don’t owe you anything." She looked over her shoulder at him, entirely earnest. "Come on. I won’t even get mad."

"Why would I even do that?" Arthur let out a long sigh, finding all of it problematic. And he wasn’t even sure if Kat wasn’t planning anything.

She didn’t seem like the type who would try using it as a trap to prosecute him later, but who could know for sure.

"Are you okay?" First things first, he turned to Monica, checking on her.

"I’m totally fine, thank you, mister!" she said with an excited and thankful smile.

"Good," Arthur mumbled under his breath with a soft smile. "Do you need help walking back home or something?"

"No, not at all. I’m an independent twelve-year-old girl. I can take care of myself!" Monica puffed out her chest, earning another smile from Arthur.

Finally, he turned his attention to Kat, who was still presenting her backside to him in what looked like a rather tempting offer.