Years

Sadly, he was not their child, so the other parents turned away sheepishly. The bullies were college kids - too old to be targeting a young boy of (maybe) 11. "Lessers," Cha Songyee whispered, putting her knitting down on the bench, "tend to exert more force because they lack strategic thinking." Walking over, she told them to stop twice (to their surprise) and one proved himself simple enough to take a swing. Cha Songyee stopped the haymaker in mid-flight, forearm snapping upon impact. "On the mountain," she whispered, eyes glowing softly, "we train for a million years in how to take blows, protecting the skeleton and moving the muscular pain to where it can be managed." The deeply stupid frequently undaunted, Cha Songyee interrupted someone trying to kick her legs out from behind; she bent his 90 degrees out to the side. "And then we train for a million years on how to deliver force, while the almost endless punishment is fresh in our minds." The third rushed her in a pop of stupidity she felt mostly sorry for and put her hand up; he ran into it and cracked his breast bone (falling back flat onto the pavement and fracturing a rib). "It is only then we can know peace." She turned to the little one and hugged him (using a soft cloth to dry his tears and wipe the blood from his abrasions). "Two million years is a small price to pay for such peace," Cha Songyee finished (with prayerful hands) and helped him get back on his bike, "and some of that I give you." None of the videos anyone had taken of her and the bullies would be usable; she would not appear on any CCTV footage; by dinnertime, they would be unable to fully call her appearance to mind. She would move to another bench in another town and continue to improve her knitting skills; she had approximately 725,000 more years in which to claim this accomplishment.