The moonlight spilled across the academy courtyard, silvering the black gates and the stone fountain at its center. Midnight was never silent in this place—too many whispers, too many footsteps hiding in shadows. Ashira knew it well by now. This was no normal school; it was a battlefield disguised as an academy.
But tonight felt different.
Her instincts buzzed like an alarm in her chest. Every step she took was cautious, measured. The faint laughter of boys behind dorm windows drifted on the wind, but the courtyard itself was empty. Too empty.
"Something's off," she muttered under her breath, adjusting her tie to make sure her disguise as a 'boy student' remained flawless.
Just then, a familiar voice sliced through the silence.
"Well, well… look who decided to sneak out at night."
Ashira froze. Her heart thudded. From the shadows of the fountain, Leon emerged. His smirk was as sharp as a blade, his hands tucked casually in his pockets as though he wasn't one of the most dangerous heirs in the criminal academy.
She forced a crooked grin. "Shouldn't you be asleep, Leon? Or are you planning to catch fireflies in the middle of the night?"
He tilted his head, eyes gleaming. "No. Just rats."
Before she could retort, footsteps echoed behind her. She spun. Damian stood there, his face cold, unreadable as ever, but his gun gleamed faintly in the moonlight.
Ashira's pulse spiked. Two of the deadliest boys in school, cornering her at once.
"Wow," she said, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Is this some kind of boys-only midnight party? I should've brought snacks."
Leon chuckled, but Damian didn't. His eyes locked onto her with unsettling precision. "Drop the act," he said flatly.
Her throat tightened. "What act?"
Damian stepped closer, his presence pressing against her like gravity itself. "You're not who you say you are."
Ashira's blood turned to ice. Did he know? No—no, he couldn't know everything.
She forced a laugh. "Of course I am. A totally ordinary delinquent student. Fighting, breaking rules, looking handsome—well, more handsome than you two, at least."
Leon's grin widened. "Cute lie. But your file doesn't exist, Ashir." He drew out the male version of her cover name mockingly. "No records. No history. Nothing before this semester. Care to explain?"
Her brain scrambled for an escape, but her body tensed to fight. Every muscle screamed to move.
Before she could answer, a new voice cut through the tension.
"That's enough."
All three of them snapped their heads toward the staircase leading to the east wing. Alden—the mysterious professor—descended slowly, his coat brushing the steps, his eyes sharp as knives.
Ashira's chest tightened. Of all people, he was the last she wanted to see here. Not because he was weak—no, because his presence was more dangerous than both Leon and Damian combined. He was one of her hidden leads, though they didn't know it yet.
Leon's smirk faltered, but only slightly. "Professor Alden. Shouldn't you be grading papers instead of sneaking around at midnight?"
"Shouldn't you be in bed, Leon?" Alden shot back, his tone calm but edged with steel. "Both of you."
Damian's jaw tightened, but he didn't lower his gun. Instead, his gaze flicked back to Ashira. "She's hiding something. I can smell it."
Alden's eyes lingered on Ashira—too long, too piercing. For a moment, she thought he could see straight through her disguise, straight into her secrets.
Then he said, "Perhaps. But tonight is not the night for answers."
The air thickened with tension. Leon clicked his tongue in irritation, Damian glared, and Ashira struggled to breathe evenly.
Finally, Alden stepped between them, his coat swaying like a curtain of shadows. "Return to your dorms," he ordered, his voice brooking no argument.
For once, Leon didn't smirk. He shot Ashira a final look—one that promised this wasn't over—and stalked away. Damian hesitated, eyes locked on her, then finally holstered his gun and left without a word.
The courtyard emptied, leaving only Ashira and Alden.
Her pulse thundered in her ears. She should leave, should vanish before he asked questions she couldn't answer. But when she turned to walk away, his voice froze her.
"Stay."
Ashira turned slowly, feigning irritation. "What now? Want me to write an essay on midnight strolls?"
Alden's gaze bore into her. "You think you're clever, hiding under that disguise. But cleverness won't save you here. Secrets have a way of bleeding out in this academy."
Her throat went dry. Did he know? Or was he just fishing?
She forced a grin. "You sound like a fortune cookie, professor."
For the first time, his lips twitched—not quite a smile, but close. "Perhaps. But consider this your only warning."
And with that, he turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving Ashira alone under the silver moonlight, her heart pounding with both fear and something far more dangerous—curiosity.