Shirley unconsciously looked down. Small shadows cast from her eyelids, and her delicate white fingers stirred in bewilderment.

The sunlight was blinding.

The boys' undisguised jeering continued, and Shirley did not even know when Fred had arrived.

Fred stood beside her and patted her on the shoulder.

Shirley felt his breath and calmly enveloped it.

"The president of the basketball club protects the weak," the boy standing at the front of the club gave out his voice vaguely.

The leading boy thought that Fred had always been dismissive of trouble. He didn't expect Fred to come, so he shouted with a stiff face.

What the boy said was not very...