First Fight

I entered the office and found a middle-aged man seated at the desk. He wore half-professional attire, with a collared shirt and slacks.

"Good morning," I greeted him.

"Good morning. What can I help you with?" he responded.

"I'm Graham Maxwell. I was supposed to come here before classes started."

Realization dawned on the professor, and he stood up, approaching me with an outstretched hand.

"I was expecting you, Sir Maxwell. I'm Professor McGonagall," he said as we shook hands.

Returning to his desk, he picked up a small plastic card and handed it to me. "This is your student card. If you have any problems, you can always ask me about it. And if you need to leave for some time, it's not a problem. You will be excused," he assured me.

I accepted the card with a nod of gratitude.

"You should go to class now. It's your first day here, so I will show you where it is," the professor suggested.

We exited his office, and as we walked, he mentioned that he had been informed about my accident and wished me the best. He also took the time to show me around the building so I would know where to go next time.

Upon reaching my classroom, Professor McGonagall bid me farewell and left me to fend for myself.

As I entered the classroom, I noticed around 30 people seated across the descending levels of the hall. To my surprise, there were mostly women in the class, with just a few men scattered around.

This was also true in my past life, but not to this extent. 

I was considering where to sit and that's when one of the girls looked at me and called out to me.

She wore stylish glasses and her long red hair fell all the way down to her waist. Though I couldn't remember her, I decided to join her.

From up close, I could see the small freckles dotting her nose.

"Hey, Graham. What's up? Why didn't you come the last few days? I thought something happened to you," she greeted me calmly as I took the seat beside her.

"And you wouldn't be wrong. I was laying in the hospital the last few weeks."

I then retrieved a drawing notebook and some utensils from my bag.

"What did you do? Did you get run over again?" she asked.

I met her gaze.

'I guess some things don't change.' I thought.

"No. Lightning struck me. Before I say anything strange, you should know that I have lost some memories. I'm sorry, but I can't remember your name," I explained, feeling a pang of guilt for not recalling her name.

For a moment, she appeared stunned, her lips slightly parted and her eyebrows raised. "Oh my God! That's crazy!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah..."

Ashley appeared to struggle for words. "Umm... I'm Ashley. We've been sharing artwork back in high school," she finally managed to say, tapping her pencil against her red lips.

"Damn. This feels so weird talking to you like that. Do you think you will remember anything?" she asked.

I smiled. "I hope I will. I did remember some stuff already."

Soon the class started and the Professor taught about drawing the places of the face and face structures.

During the class, Ashley asked me to go through the gallery on my phone. There was a ton of her and my art. She thought that maybe I could remember something through this.

I seemed to have drawn way more conservative art in this life, like human silhouettes and cityscapes. But there were some abstract concepts too.

After the face drawing class, we had a still-life drawing session followed by art history.

Soon the classes ended and I said goodbye to Ashley. It seemed that the memory loss didn't matter; it felt like we could pick up where we left off.

As I headed out of the building, something caught my eye and really pissed me off.

I saw a boy from my class, with light blonde hair and a frail build, pinned against the wall by two much bigger boys, which made my blood boil.

His bag lay on the ground next to them, and one of the bullies was holding his shirt up.

I even saw one professor walking by, pretending he didn't see anything.

Without considering the consequences, I walked up to them. I couldn't stand by and watch this shit.

One of them had a similar body build to mine but the other guy with short, black hair had an especially ripped body.

Their attention was fixed menacingly on the boy they had cornered. I think they wanted money from him.

I wasn't about to give them the time to react; that would be stupid.

My muscles tensed like a coiled spring as I sprang into action. I launched myself towards the bigger guy.

As the bully turned to look at me, I seized the opportunity, latching onto his knee and locking my palms around it, just as Benjamin had taught me. With a forceful push, I slammed him to the ground; his head smacked the floor, which disoriented him.

I straddled him before he could even comprehend what had happened. 

The other bully's enraged shout barely registered as he swung a wild punch in my direction.

I swayed to the side, narrowly avoiding his fist.

It felt as though my body was moving on its own.

In one fluid motion, I grabbed his outstretched arm, using his momentum against him. I moved up and with a powerful kick to his supporting leg, I sent him hurtling forward, crashing on top of his buddy.

"Who the fuck are you!?" he spat, his voice thick with venom.

Adrenaline coursed through my veins, heightening my senses.

As they struggled to disentangle themselves, I wasted no time. I raised my leg and directed it at the guy on top. I delivered a swift kick to his chin, rendering him unconscious. His neck almost snapped.

The other struggled to untangle himself, his face contorted with rage. "You're dead meat, you hear me? I'll break your bones!"

I turned to the boy against the wall, offering him a hand. "You okay?" I asked.

He nodded, "Yeah, thanks."

The guy pinned beneath his friend finally managed to wriggle free.

I faced him squarely. "Do you really want to fight?" I questioned.

I gestured to his friend still sprawled on the ground. "Your friend will catch a cold."

He glanced at his unconscious companion, frustration evident in his expression. "Fuck!" he muttered, slapping his friend's cheek in annoyance. "Mark!"

Then, turning back to me, his demeanor softened slightly. "What's your name?"

"Graham Maxwell," I replied evenly, meeting his gaze.

I could see a flicker of recognition cross his face. Without another word, he pulled his friend up from the ground and walked away.

Turning towards the boy from my class, I offered him a reassuring smile. "What's your name, by the way? I don't know if you noticed, but we go to the same class."

"I'm Ruby," he replied, his voice tinged with gratitude.

"Nice to meet you, Ruby," I said, extending my hand. "Let's get out of here."

This was my first fight and I only trained some basics for one day. I didn't think I was stronger than them and I felt like I had made lots of technical mistakes. And yet I took them down easily. Were they just this bad?

After walking out with Ruby and returning to my car, my phone rang.

It was Emily.

I answered, "Hey."

"Hey, Gray. Do you have time now? Can we meet?" she asked.

"Umm... I need to go train with my uncle and some other guys," I replied.

"I can go with you!" she suggested.

"I mean... I don't know. Won't it be better if we meet after?" I hesitated.

"Are you going to meet with your Mafia uncles? I don't mind watching you train," she pressed eagerly.

With her enthusiasm, I relented, "Okay. Where do I pick you up?"