The inside of the Walmart was bedlam. Under the dim, flickering light of the backup generators, people scrambled through the aisles, grabbing anything they could carry. Shouts echoed through the store as shoppers fought over cans, boxes, and supplies. The shelves were half-empty already, and the sound of breaking glass and crashing displays made the air feel tense and dangerous.Jean and Akira kept their heads down as they wove through the crowd, heading straight for the daily necessities aisle. Jean glanced over his shoulder every few seconds, instinctively keeping an eye out for any threat."Stick close, Akira," he muttered, trying to keep his voice steady.Akira nodded, her eyes wide with a strange intensity as she followed him closely, never letting him get more than a few steps ahead. They arrived at the aisle, grabbing essentials as quickly as they could. Jean stuffed rolls of toilet paper, soap, toothpaste, and other basics into his bag, keeping his movements swift but steady.Akira, meanwhile, was meticulously picking up her own items, including a few boxes of tampons and other personal hygiene products. She shot Jean a small smile as she tucked them into her bag. "A girl has to be prepared, right?"Jean forced a smile, his mind more on the supplies than small talk. "Yeah. Let's just get what we need and get out of here."Just as he reached for a pack of batteries on a nearby shelf, a large man with a shaved head and a scruffy beard stepped up beside him, his eyes narrowing as he spotted the batteries."Hey, those are mine," the man growled, reaching for them just as Jean's fingers closed around the pack.Jean tightened his grip, not willing to give up that easily. "We grabbed it first, man. There's plenty of other stuff. Just find something else."The man didn't listen. He lunged forward, grabbing Jean's arm and shoving him back. Jean staggered, clutching the batteries as he struggled to keep his balance, but the man was stronger, his grip like a vise as he tried to wrest the pack from Jean's hand."Back off, kid!" the man snarled, his face inches from Jean's as he pulled harder.Suddenly, a flash of metal flew by, and the man let out an ear-piercing scream. Jean stumbled back, his heart pounding as he took in the sight: one of Akira's scissors was embedded in the man's eye, blood streaming down his face as he clutched at the handle, his other hand dropping the batteries."Ahh! My eye! You crazy bitch!" the man screamed, stumbling back as he tried to dislodge the scissors, his face contorted in agony.Jean stared, shocked, as Akira stepped up beside him, her expression calm but with a dark glint in her eyes. "No one hurts my darling," she said, her voice low and cold, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.Jean's mouth went dry, the reality of the situation hitting him. "Akira... what the hell?"She looked at him, her gaze softening, as if the violence she'd just committed was nothing but a minor inconvenience. "I told you, Jean. I'll protect you. No one is allowed to lay a hand on you."Jean shook his head, snapping himself out of his daze. "Okay, look, we don't have time for this. Just grab what we need, and let's get out of here. Now."Akira nodded, giving one last disdainful glance at the man, who was still writhing in pain. She tugged her scissors out of his eye with a swift, brutal motion, wiping the blood off on her sleeve before slipping them back into her pocket. Then she turned back to Jean, her expression brightening as if nothing had happened."Let's go, darling," she said, slipping her hand into his as they hurried down the aisle toward the exit, leaving the chaos behind.***Ms. Heather and Jordan moved quickly through the crowded grocery aisles, grabbing whatever non-perishables they could find. The shelves were already sparse, leaving them to pick through cans, jars, and a few boxes of crackers. Jordan loaded up his bag, smirking as he glanced over at Ms. Heather, who was reaching up to grab a can off a high shelf."Need some help, Ms. Heather?" Jordan asked with a grin. "I mean, you know I'm always here to, uh... lend a hand."Ms. Heather blinked, glancing down at him with a smile. "Oh, thank you, Jordan. That's sweet of you!" She handed him a few more cans, her mind entirely focused on their task, not noticing the gleam in his eyes.Jordan chuckled, muttering under his breath, "Not the only thing I'd help you handle..."She blinked at him, confused. "Did you say something, Jordan?""Uh—no, no, nothing," he stammered, shaking his head as he quickly looked away, stuffing the cans into his bag.They continued gathering supplies when, out of nowhere, a man stepped into the aisle, a dark scarf wrapped around his face and a knife gleaming in his hand. His eyes were narrowed, his posture tense as he looked from Ms. Heather to Jordan."Hand over the food," the man growled, brandishing the knife. "I don't have time for this—just give me what you've got, and no one gets hurt."Ms. Heather's face paled, and she instinctively stepped back, clutching her bag close. Jordan moved protectively in front of her, his voice shaking but defiant. "Back off, man. We're not just handing our stuff over to you."The man sneered, taking a step closer, his knife raised. "I don't think you have much of a choice, kid."Before Jordan could react, another figure appeared behind the thug, moving swiftly and silently. A blast of pepper spray filled the air, hitting the man square in the face. The thug let out a strangled scream, clutching his eyes as he stumbled back, dropping his knife and cursing in pain."Ah, the irony of toxic masculinity, am I right?" came a soft, almost apologetic voice. The speaker was a tall, thin man in his mid-20s with long brown hair tied back in a loose bun, wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, and an oversized, ethically-sourced sweater hanging off his frame. He offered Ms. Heather a gentle smile, the kind you'd expect from someone who'd just helped with groceries, not incapacitated a knife-wielding thug."Sorry about that," he said, glancing at the man writhing on the floor before turning his gaze back to Ms. Heather. "I just... I can't stand seeing women threatened like that. It's inexcusable. Are you alright?"Ms. Heather blinked, visibly relieved. "Oh, thank you—yes, I'm fine, thanks to you! I... I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't come along."The man nodded, his eyes soft with genuine concern. "No thanks necessary. It's my responsibility to help when I see injustice." He then glanced at her grocery bag, his expression becoming slightly bashful. "If it's alright, I could help carry that for you? It's really no trouble."Ms. Heather gave him an appreciative smile, and as she handed over the bag, she glanced at Jordan. "Jordan, isn't this kind of him?"Jordan's eyebrows shot up, his gaze flicking between Ms. Heather and the newcomer. "Uh... yeah, real hero," he muttered, clearly unimpressed.The man extended a hand, introducing himself. "Blake Atwood. I'm... well, I'm a Gender Studies major over at UCLA, focusing on feminist theory and advocacy." He said it with a slight nod, as if it were the most noble pursuit in the world."Ms. Heather Collins," she replied, shaking his hand warmly. "And this is Jordan," she added, gesturing toward him.Jordan gave Blake a curt nod, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, nice to meet you, 'hero.' So... you just wander around grocery stores, pepper-spraying dudes?"Blake gave a slight, almost shy smile. "No, but when I see someone being threatened, especially a woman, I can't just stand by and do nothing. I believe it's every man's duty to dismantle toxic masculinity, one act of allyship at a time."Jordan stifled a laugh, muttering under his breath. "Right. White knight to the rescue."Ms. Heather, either oblivious or genuinely impressed, beamed at Blake. "Well, we're glad you were here to help. Thank you for stepping in."Blake nodded, taking a step closer to her as he glanced toward the exit. "It's really no trouble. And if you're heading out, I'd be honored to accompany you. Safety in numbers, right?"Ms. Heather looked to Jordan, who merely shrugged, still sizing up Blake with a hint of irritation."Fine by me," Jordan muttered, adjusting his grip on his bag. "Let's just get out of here before someone else tries to jump us."Blake gave Ms. Heather a warm smile. "Stay close to me, Ms. Collins. I'll make sure no one bothers you."With that, the three of them headed toward the exit, leaving the chaotic aisles and looters behind as they moved through the store, Blake carefully holding Ms. Heather's bag as if it were a prized possession, his posture protective and his expression serene. Jordan trailed behind, glancing at Blake with an eye roll but keeping his mouth shut, ready to make it out in one piece.Q: Would you date a yandere?