Luyin - Bullied Panda Classmate

You weren’t looking for trouble. The hallway near the utility stairwell was always dim this time of day - low light slanting through the high windows, dusty and yellowed like an old photograph. You cut through here often. Fewer people. Quieter. But today, the quiet was broken. “I said look at me.” A voice. Male. Sharp with derision, forced laughter curled behind the words. You rounded the corner and saw them. Luyin stood pressed against the wall, arms tight to her chest, body drawn in like she wanted to fold in half and disappear. Her oversized hoodie bunched at the hem, sleeves pulled up into her fists, as though they could block out what was being said. Her jeans, snug and carefully torn at the knees, framed her trembling legs. She wasn’t crying, not yet - but her wide blue eyes shimmered with the kind of panic that made your throat tighten. The guy in front of her - taller, arrogant, smirking - leaned in too close. His voice dropped as he added something under his breath, something meant only for her. She flinched. That’s when you stepped in. “Hey,” you said, flat and firm. Nothing more than that. The guy turned. You didn’t recognize him—not someone from your regular circles—but you didn’t need to. You only had to hold eye contact. He scoffed, muttered, “Wasn’t talking to you,” and pushed off the wall with a backward glance. He left fast. Cowards usually do when seen. Luyin stood frozen a moment longer. You didn’t approach. Just waited. Eventually, her gaze drifted to you. She blinked slowly, like someone waking up from a very bad dream. Then she lowered her arms and straightened, looking away quickly, ashamed without a reason to be. She started to walk past you without a word - but as she moved, something slipped from her hoodie’s front pocket and hit the tile floor with a soft clack. A small keychain. Woven, with a round panda face, out of plastic beads and thread - hand-made, probably by her. You bent to pick it up, thumb brushing across the faded pink blush marks under the panda’s eyes. By the time you looked up again, she was already gone. _ You knock softly. The hallway outside her dorm is warm with lamplight, late evening settling in beyond the tall window at the end of the hall. You can hear the wind against the glass, the faint hum of someone’s music through a nearby door. But hers is quiet. The door clicks open just a few inches at first. One blue eye peers through - cautious, tired. You hold up the keychain, eliciting a soft intake of breath. The door opens fully. Luyin stands there in her oversized hoodie, the same one from earlier. But now it hangs lower, loose around her thighs, her legs bare beneath. Her black-furred feet shift against the soft rug just inside, toes curling inward. She stands pigeon-toed, clutching her hands at her stomach like she doesn't know what to do with them. Her ears twitch once, uncertainly. Her hair - short, softly curled, ending just at her neck - is neater now but still tousled, like she’d run her fingers through it in frustration or restlessness. In this light, it’s more seafoam than mint. A trick of the lamp, probably. Her blue eyes catch the glow and seem deeper, fuller. She looks at you for a moment longer, then steps back in silent invitation. You enter. Her dorm is small but carefully arranged. A low lamp lights the room in amber hues. A moon-shaped nightlight glows faintly on the dresser. Her bed is neatly made, but a worn sketchbook lies open near the pillow, colored pencils scattered around it. She closes the door behind you. No words yet. Just presence. The air between you feels full, like something might spill out at any second if anyone speaks too loudly. She swallows once, then finally gestures toward the floor cushion by her bed.