The afternoon sun was warm, the breeze from the window even warmer, and together they made the perfect lullaby. I hadn't meant to fall asleep, but my eyelids betrayed me, and before I knew it, I'd drifted off right there at the back of the classroom.
When I finally blinked awake, the room was nearly silent. Desks stood empty, sunlight stretched lazily across the floor, and the distant sound of footsteps echoed in the hall.
"Hey, wake up already. You've been knocked out this whole time," a familiar voice said, laced with irritation.
I lifted my head groggily, rubbing my eyes, only to see George standing beside me, dropping my bag onto the desk with a loud thud.
I yawned, stretching my arms above my head. "What the... I didn't even realize I slept through the whole afternoon. Man, it's too easy to fall asleep here. The breeze, the corner seat by the window—it's practically a trap."
George snorted. "You're impossible."
George and I had been friends since our first year of high school. He was the type who just walked up to people, decided they were friends, and that was that. His hair was a bright shade of orange that always made him stand out, and his emerald-green eyes were sharp, almost mischievous. For a fifteen-year-old, his build was just about average—neither too lanky nor too muscular. Just George.
"You planning on standing up anytime soon, or should I leave you here to sleep again?" he asked.
"I'm up, I'm up," I said quickly, pushing my chair back and grabbing my bag. "Where are the other two?"
"They had stuff to do. Told me to go on ahead."
I scratched the back of my head with a sigh. "Figures. Alright then, let's go."
The two of us stepped out into the corridor, and I noticed just how quiet the building had become. The hall stretched out in silence, empty and still.
"What's wrong?" George tilted his head at me, that mocking little grin already tugging at his lips. "Don't tell me you're creeped out just because we're the last ones here. Took you forever to wake up, man."
"Tch, don't start," I muttered, brushing him off as we turned the corner toward the stairs.
And that's when it happened.
A blur of motion—someone running fast—came barreling down the hall. Before I could react, she crashed into me. The impact wasn't violent, but it was enough to knock her backwards, landing hard on the floor.
"Whoa—!" My heart jumped into my throat. "Are you okay?"
The girl winced, sitting up slowly. Her long chestnut-brown hair spilled over her shoulders, catching the light in glossy waves, with faint curls dancing at the ends. For a moment, I just stared—almost forgetting to breathe.
"Ouch... that really hurt," she muttered, rubbing the side of her head.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught George, his expression already twisting with amusement. He covered his mouth with his hand, trying not to laugh, but the glint in his eyes gave him away completely.
"You're in trouble now," he said, snickering. Then he clapped a hand onto my shoulder dramatically, leaning in close as if sharing some grave piece of advice. "Listen, Kil... I know we're friends and all, but you understand, right? My jackpot's about to hit—I can't hold it in! My stomach's killing me!"
And before I could even process his nonsense, he bolted down the hall, leaving me standing there with the girl I'd just bowled over.
I sighed. Typical George.
I knew it. George totally ditched me on purpose, throwing out that half-baked "I need the bathroom" excuse. Yeah, right. He just wanted to leave me stranded here with her. Typical George.
I crouched down a little and held out my hand. "You okay, Aika?"
Her eyes flicked open—and I froze. Hazel. Not just plain hazel, but that kind of shimmering mix of brown, green, and gold that catches the light and makes you forget what you were about to say. My heart skipped.
I scratched my cheek nervously, heat creeping up my face, but I kept my hand out anyway. Then—softness. Warmth. Her hand slid into mine, and I almost forgot how to breathe. It was my first time holding a girl's hand, and of course, I laughed nervously like an idiot.
Still, I tightened my grip just enough to pull her up gently. For a moment, the world went quiet. Just her hazel eyes, my pounding heartbeat, and a faint blush rising on both our faces. It was… way too much.
"I-I'm sorry, Aika," I blurted, bowing slightly. Smooth. Real smooth.
The silence that followed felt like hours. When I finally looked up, her cheeks were still tinged red, and her gaze lingered on me in a way that made my stomach twist.
"You're… Aika from Class-1, right?" I asked, trying to fill the silence. "I mean, everyone on campus knows who you are."
Her lips parted, and she spoke in a voice so soft and clear it made my chest tighten. "Why do you call me Aika? Shouldn't you address me by my last name?"
I froze. Oh, crap. Of course. No one calls her by her first name unless they're close. Way to go, Kil. Nice job sounding like a stalker.
And because my brain clearly hated me, the next words that slipped out were: "A-Aika? Why were you in such a hurry?"
Her eyes widened, sharp as blades. Oh no. I said it again. Idiot. Idiot! She's going to think I'm some creep. Which, well… fine, I may have kept tabs on her a little, but that's not the point right now!
Her fist tightened, and before I could even flinch—bam.
Stars exploded across my vision as her punch connected with my cheek. The world spun, and I stumbled back, clutching my face. Damn, she hit hard.
By the time I staggered after her, she was already storming off toward her classroom. Our rooms were side by side—mine Class-2, hers Class-1—so I ended up trailing behind, still pressing a hand against my swollen cheek.
Leaning against her classroom door, I watched her rummage around, looking for whatever she had forgotten. Against all better judgment, I stepped closer.
"Just a question, Ai—Miss Evergarden?" I barely caught myself before saying her first name again. Seriously, what's wrong with me?
Her eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering in their depths. "Why would I tell you? Who even are you?"
I froze, words dying in my throat.
Oh dear god. They were right. She really is impossible to talk to.
She turned her back on me without another word, resuming her search like I wasn't even there. I let out a quiet sigh, unsure whether to stay or just walk away.
One by one, she checked the desks at the front of the room, her movements sharp and hurried. Another drawer opened, another drawer closed—still nothing.
"Where could it be? I need to know what happens next in the story… I'm almost done with Volume 4," she whispered to herself.
But I heard it. Every word.
So that's what she's after—a book.
I glanced around the classroom, scanning every corner until my eyes landed on something near the teacher's desk. A book lay abandoned on the floor, half-open, its cover peeking out. I walked over, picked it up, and flipped it open.
"I'm the Strongest Assassin?" I read aloud, curiosity slipping into my voice.
Before I could flip another page, the book was snatched right out of my hands. Aika's glare met mine, her hazel eyes sharp as she clutched the book protectively against her chest.
"Where did you find this?" Her tone was cold, suspicious—but even so, her voice carried that gentle, angelic quality that made my chest tighten.
I quickly raised a hand and pointed toward the teacher's desk. "On the floor. Right there, under the chair."
She followed my gesture, then lowered her gaze, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "T-thank you… for finding it."
My heart skipped.
Did she just—?
She just thanked me.
For a moment, I couldn't breathe. My face burned hotter than a furnace, and I knew I must've looked ridiculous standing there, frozen with wide eyes.
"Hey… I said thank you," she repeated softly, glancing up at me.
I scrambled to regain my composure, forcing out a casual laugh and waving my hand dismissively. "It's nothing. Anyway… let's go. I'm already late getting home."
With that, I shoved my hands into my pockets and strode past her, doing my best to look calm and collected. Inside, however, my heart was doing backflips.
She followed soon after. Once we stepped out, she paused to lock the classroom door while I headed toward the stairs. Not even a few seconds later, I heard the sound of her running to catch up with me.
Wait—why did I even stick around to help her? Why did I wait? What am I doing… acting like her boyfriend or something? No, no, no. Stop.
The stairwell was quiet, every step echoing in the empty building. Neither of us said a word, and the silence only grew heavier. My chest tightened. I had to say something—anything.
"Uh… so?" I blurted, glancing back at her awkwardly.
She turned her head slightly, her hazel eyes meeting mine. Just that small gesture—graceful, unhurried—felt like Cupid had let loose three arrows straight into my chest.
"What is it?" she asked in a calm, steady voice.
My mind went blank. Was this a dream? Did goddesses really walk the same hallways as the rest of us?
"By the way… where are your things? Why didn't you bring them with you?" I asked, my right hand still shoved in my pocket, the other brushing against the cheek Aika had punched earlier. It still stung.
"They're with Emma. I asked her to hold onto them so I wouldn't have trouble searching." Her reply was calm, graceful—her voice like music that refused to leave my ears.
We descended the last flight of stairs and stepped onto the ground floor. From there, the school layout spread out neatly: three main buildings. Two faced each other like rivals locked in a staring contest, while our own stood between them, acting as the bridge. And at the base of the trio of buildings lay the playground—a wide open space we simply called that, even though it had become more than just a place for games. It was where everyone gathered, where laughter echoed during breaks.
And waiting there was Emma Velouria. Blonde hair, brown eyes, curls dancing gently around her face. She was practically glued to Aika, the kind of best friend you could always find at her side.
"Took you long enough. Here are your things," Emma said, handing them over.
"It wasn't easy to find. What could I do?" Aika replied, her words light, her tone—still unbearably angelic.
I kept my cool—or at least tried to. Hands buried deep in my pockets, I walked past the two of them like I hadn't been secretly listening. But of course, I caught every word.
"Who's that guy? You two came here together, didn't you?" Emma asked, curiosity dripping from her voice.
"He's the one who found my book," Aika answered, her voice softer than usual. "And… he seems familiar."
"He's from Class-2, right next door to us," Emma said matter-of-factly.
"Oh, right. Waiiiit!"
The sudden shout made me stop in my tracks. I turned around just in time to see Aika running toward me, her hair bouncing, her steps light and almost… cute. My heart nearly leapt out of my chest.
"What's the problem, Miss Evergarden?" I asked, forcing my voice to stay cool, like this was nothing.
She stopped in front of me, catching her breath, then looked up with those hazel eyes. "What's your name?"
For a split second, my brain short-circuited. She asked my name. She actually wants to know my name. My chest tightened, my heart hammered, and I could feel the heat creeping up my neck. Maybe… maybe she wasn't as cold and unapproachable as everyone claimed.
I smiled despite myself and extended my hand, hoping it didn't look like it was trembling. "Kil Whitlock," I said, trying to sound confident.
Her fingers slipped into mine. Soft. Gentle. "Aika Evergarden. Pleased to meet you, Kil."
And just like that, I nearly exploded on the spot. She smiled—at me. At me.
My pulse went wild, my face burned crimson, and my hand shook slightly in hers. Her skin was smooth, her grip delicate, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I might actually die from happiness.
"I-I-It's also… a pleasure to meet you, Miss Evergarden," I stammered, quickly pulling my hand back before my nerves completely betrayed me.
Shoving it into my pocket, I forced a relaxed smile, acting as though the earth beneath me hadn't just shifted. I gave both Aika and Emma a casual nod, then turned and continued toward the gate of Clenmark School, doing everything I could to maintain that fragile illusion of being cool.
Inside, though? My heart was still screaming.