Liam

In the world of beastmen, school has always been a place where the weak are noticed first. His name was Lian—a quiet boy with white rabbit ears that drooped treacherously whenever anyone noticed him.

He sat at the back of the class, closest to the window, as if he hoped to one day simply disappear with the sunlight. Lian barely spoke—not because he didn't want to, but because the words were stuck somewhere inside, never finding a way out. In class, he was considered odd: too quiet, too neat, too... different.

During breaks, he kept to himself, clutching his cooling cup of coffee as if it were the only thing that gave him confidence. Sometimes someone would pass by and laugh, sometimes they simply didn't notice. And that, perhaps, hurt even more.

But Lian had his own world. Small and cozy. He loved to draw—in notebooks, in the margins of textbooks, on random sheets of paper. There, he wasn't weak. There, he could be whoever he wanted.

One day, a teacher accidentally spotted his drawing—neat, vibrant, and full of emotion. For the first time in a long time, someone looked at Lian not with mockery, but with interest.

— Did you draw this?

Lian froze. His ears twitched, his fingers clenched. He nodded, barely perceptibly.

And at that moment something changed.

He didn't suddenly become bold or loud. But his gaze gained a little more confidence. Just a little. Enough to raise his hand one day. Enough for him to finally be noticed.