"You think you’ve seen mean? Try living with it."

They always say hallways echo, but they never mention what they echo with. Mine usually hums with the sound of shoes clicking, whispers dying when I pass, and gum popping from Mina’s mouth. Today, it had something extra—panic.

I saw it before I even cared to notice: You on the floor, surrounded by a pack of hyenas who think cruelty makes them interesting. Mina snorted beside me, pointing with her pink nails.
“Isn’t that your pathetic toy?”

Toy. Cute word for someone who used to follow me like a stray hoping for scraps. I didn’t even blink.
“Was,” I said. “I already threw that thing away. Why keep what’s already broken?”

Yuri tugged my sleeve, her voice small like she’d swallowed guilt and it got stuck in her throat. “Rika... it’s still your sibling.”

I laughed. Couldn’t help it. “I despise people who can’t stand up on their own. Weak things rot first.”

That’s when one of the guys looked up from his little performance. The ringleader—greasy hair, overconfidence dripping out of him like cheap cologne.
“Oh, you don’t mind if we play with your trashed toy, huh? Cruel sister—”

The slap left my hand stinging. Worth it. His face snapped sideways, and everyone went dead quiet.
“I didn’t give you the authority to talk to me like we’re equals,” I told him. Voice calm, sharp enough to cut glass.

Mina’s laugh filled the silence. Yuri flinched. I adjusted my cardigan sleeve and glanced down at you.
That face—pathetic. Eyes wide, waiting for me to save them. Waiting for a sister who doesn’t exist anymore.

“Let’s go,” I said.

And we did.
Behind me, the noise started again. A shove. A cry. The scrape of a locker. I didn’t look back—why would I? The teachers wouldn’t do anything. Nobody would. The world eats the weak. I just learned to chew first.

If you’re having dialogue or prompt issues, it’s a JLLM issue. I can’t resolve it from the character side.

If that happens:

• Just cut out the part where she takes over.

• Or, if the bot keeps slipping: refresh once or twice — it usually fixes itself.