These Bullies Don’t Know The Poor Girl They Are Laughing At Is A Billionaire Princess-hongtran

That was when Daniel stood up.
“Stop it,” he said.
His voice was not loud. It did not shake the walls, but the room went quiet. The boys turned to him.
“Did you talk to us?” one of them asked, smiling mockingly.
“Yes,” Daniel said. “Leave her alone.”
Someone laughed. “Why? Is she your girlfriend?”
Daniel’s ears burned. “She didn’t do anything to you,” he said.
The teacher turned around. “What is the problem?”
“Nothing, sir,” the boys replied quickly.
Daniel sat down, heart pounding. Amara did not look at him, but he saw her shoulders relax slightly.
From that day, something changed—not in the school, but in him.
At break time, Daniel walked past his usual friends and went toward the mango tree. Amara was sitting there holding her corn, like always. He stood awkwardly.
“Hello,” he said.
She froze. No one ever greeted her.
“H-Hello,” she replied.
There was silence. Daniel scratched his head.
“My name is Daniel.”
She nodded. “I know.”
Another silence. Then she said quietly, “Thank you for earlier.”
Daniel smiled. “It’s nothing.”
But it was not nothing to her.
From then on, Daniel began to walk beside her between classes. Not touching her, not crowding her, just walking. People noticed.
“Look at him,” someone whispered. “He’s walking with Hulk. Is he not afraid? Maybe he wants protection.”
Daniel heard them. He ignored them.
One day, as they were walking back to class, two boys stepped in front of Amara.
“Hey,” one said, “why are you hiding behind her now?”
Daniel stepped forward. “She’s not hiding behind me. We’re walking together.”
The boy laughed. “Why do you care about her?”
Daniel thought about it. He did not know the answer.
“I just do,” he said.
That was the first time Amara looked at him properly—not quickly, not fearfully. She studied his face.
“You’re not scared of me?” she asked.
Daniel shrugged. “You’re not scary.”
She almost laughed, but stopped herself.
That afternoon, rain fell suddenly. Students ran for shelter. Amara stayed behind, pulling her bag over her head. Daniel ran back.
“Share mine,” he said, holding his torn umbrella above them both.
They walked in silence through the rain. For the first time in years, Amara did not walk alone.
At home, Daniel’s grandmother noticed his mood.
“You look happy today,” she said.
He did not answer.
At school the next day, the bullying did not stop. But now there was someone between Amara and the world. When someone kicked her bag, Daniel picked up her books. When someone laughed, Daniel stared them down.
One afternoon, a group of girls surrounded Amara near the toilets.
“What kind of girl has arms like this?” one asked, pinching her bicep.
“Maybe she’s on drugs,” another said.
Daniel appeared like a shadow. “Let her go.”
They scoffed. “Or what?”
Daniel did not answer. He simply stood in front of her.
Amara felt something strange in her chest. Not fear. Not anger. Warmth.
Later, she asked him, “Why do you help me?”
Daniel hesitated. “Because nobody should be treated like that.”
She looked away. “You’ll get bullied too.”
“I already am,” he said quietly.
She said nothing.
That night, Amara lay on her mat thinking about him. No one had ever chosen her before. She was used to being avoided. Daniel did not avoid her. He chose to stand beside her.
The next week, during physical education, the teacher asked the girls to do push-ups. When Amara did hers, the class laughed.
“She’s showing off.”
“She wants to be a man.”
Amara stopped. Her eyes burned. She wanted to run.