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Chapter 5 - CHAPTER 5

Zhan hadn't seen daylight in almost a week. He used the excuse that he was still undergoing treatment, said some parts of his body still hurt to his professor, even though everything had actually recovered within just three days. He hadn't been back to campus since the day Atlas beat him senseless and dragged him to his place. Nobody knew. There were no witnesses of their fights. The world kept turning like nothing had happened.

Before heading to class alone that morning, Atlas had left the key by the kitchen counter. Next to it was a note with clean, clinical handwriting scrawled across it,

"Cook for yourself. Don't start fires."

That was the first thing Zhan saw when he walked into the kitchen.

"Lovely, but took me 10 minutes to read...heh.." Zhan muttered, squinting at the elegant yet unreadable scrawl.

He slid that note into his pocket. Maybe keep it was worth keeping? Later, he got dressed, not in borrowed clothes, but in his own jeans and hoodie that had been dumped in the laundry week ago. Then he grabbed his car key and left the apartment.

Zhan drove his black Audi sedan to campus, even it was already late. The clock on his dashboard blinked 11 AM, but he didn't care. The city felt too loud. The streets were too bright. But the campus? It looked exactly the same. Nothing changed in a week. He stepped out from his car and breathed in the not-so-fresh air at the parking lot near the entrance gate. As usual, he walked like he owned the place and passed a few familiar faces. Then...voices, Loud ones. Familiar ones. His fan girls.

"Oh my gawddd!!!"

"You'd disappeared for a week!"

"We missed you~"

"Ahh~ Zhan Daddy..." One girl almost swooned.

Zhan turned and gave a lazy wave. Another girl rushed in and hugged him tightly. She accidentally pressed into his ribs. A sharp pain shot through him and he winced,

"Mmph–!" A soft sound escaped him. He tensed in pain. A small tear welled in the corner of his eye.

"Was that sound from you, Zhan Daddy?" The girl asked, stunned.

"No~ Zhan Daddy...Are you alright~?" Another one cooed, pulling out a tissue and gently wiping his tear,

"You're hurting our Zhan Daddy here." She snapped at the others.

"I-its fine here...ladies..." Zhan muttered, brushing them off,

"Calm down, alright?" He said, trying to diffuse the chaos.

He needed to get out of there before more showed up. With a quick wave, he turned and walked away. The girls stood frozen, blinking in confusion at his sudden departure.

"It still hurts like hell, damn Atlas." He muttered to himself.

He found a bench near the admin block and sat down. Exhausted by his fangirls. Then, he pulled out his class schedule. Tried to pretend life was back to normal.

A familiar voice snapped him out of his thoughts,

"The fuck happened to you, dude?"

Zhan looked up. It was Hex, one of his closest friend. His eyes sharp, hoodie half-zipped, and backpack slung over one shoulder like always.

"Yo, Hex." Zhan greeted him.

Hex dropped beside him,

"One week off, huh? No texts. No DMs. That bastard was losing his mind."

Zhan blinked and replied,

"Kyle?"

"Yeah...who else?" Hex said,

"He's been asking everyone if you skipped town. You only declared medical leave to Mr. John after he started panicking."

Zhan hesitated. Should he lie? But Hex was watching him too closely. He just exhaled and smirked faintly. Hex didn't press further. He never did. That's what made him a real friend.

"Wanna hit the pub after class? Hex asked.

"Not sure yet." He shrugged.

Hex nodded in reassurance, then glanced past him and froze. Zhan turned instinctively. Across the quad, Atlas was walking alone. Hands in his coat pockets. Blank expression, as always. Zhan's throat tightened.

Hex squinted,

"That new student...you was talking to him when we're at the examination hall, right?"

Zhan didn't answer. Hex kept watching him,

"Dude...you...good?" He asked, nudging him lightly.

Zhan jolted a little,

"Oh? Yeah...just...haven't caught my breath yet."

Hex speak,

"You seem off when he passed by. Don't tell me you beat him that time."

Zhan try to snap back,

"What? No–"

"You've got a thing for picking on people weaker than you." Hex cut in.

Zhan stood, pocketing his schedule without a word. Across the plaza, Atlas looked up and their eyes met just for a second. And Zhan forgot where he was. Forgot the quad, the people, and the noise. Because Atlas's eyes weren't calling him.

They were warning him.

Zhan turned and walked away, fast, leaving Hex behind.

"Where are you going? Hey!" Hex's voice followed, confused by his sudden exit.

Zhan didn't mean to leave Hex like that, but something tugged him forward. Like a thread wrapped around his ribs. He decided to follow Atlas.

Atlas was already past the library when Zhan peeled away from Hex without a word. He walked like someone who knew exactly where he was going. Not fast, not cautious, just steady. He moved through the far end of campus, past lecture halls and vending machines. Then, Atlas took the back exit.

"That's opposite way to your apartment, dummy." Zhan muttered.

Zhan turned and headed to the parking lot. He would tail Atlas by car. He waited for a while before starting the engine and following from a distance. Atlas was already far ahead by then, moving through a path that curved between empty alleyways. The building there looked old and worn. Fences sat low and a rusted bike hung chained to a leaning pole. At the far corner, Atlas stopped in front of an unmarked gray door. He didn't knock. He just walked in.

Zhan parked two blocks away and stepped out. He stared at the building,

"This place...feels off...what are you doing here, Atlas?" Zhan whispered.

He slipped quietly into a narrow alley beside the building and peeked through a dusty window, trying to make sense of what was happening inside. The room was dim, lit only by overhead fluorescent lights. The floor was bare concrete. There were folded chairs, an old desk, and behind it sat a man who looked like he hadn't slept in days. Late 30s or early 40s. He wore a worn leather jacket and had stubble on his jaw. Atlas stood across from him, calm and cold as ever. Someone else was there too, bound to a chair, head slumped and mouth gagged. Zhan listened through the thin window.

"...We should keep him alive." The man said.

"Too dangerous to leave him alive..." Atlas replied.

"You'll brought attention--"

Atlas cut him off. His voice was low and menacing,

"I didn't. You did."

Silence stretched and the man swallowed hard.

"Do you have any idea with who he's linked to, Lawrence?"

"You afraid of them?" Atlas scoffed.

Then came the sound of metal scraping across the floor. Zhan tensed and his breath caught.

'Thwack!'

Zhan flinched at that. His eyes wide open.

Atlas had stepped forward, tossed the metal aside and stood over the lifeless body. Blood spread under the man's head.

"Y-you're insane, Lawrence." The older man muttered.

Atlas turned and walked out, leaving the mess behind for the others to deal with.

Zhan gasped. His hand slipped on the window frame. He fell from his crouch and his back hit the ground hard.

'Thud!'

Pain shot through him. First from the fall, then from his bruised ribs. Zhan clenched his jaw and curled slightly, holding his side, forcing himself to stay quiet. Footsteps paused, mean Atlas had heard. Zhan froze. He could hear his own heartbeat crashing against his ears. Then, the footsteps resumed, fading and silence.

Zhan stayed hidden. He couldn't move yet. The cold concrete drained the warmth from his spine, straight to the bone. With dust clung to his skin. His hands trembled against the ground. Each breath made his ribs flare with pain, like something clawing at him from the inside. His heart hammered against his chest, loud enough it felt like it echoed off the brick walls around him.

What the hell had he just seen? His lips were dry, his throat felt tight. He blinked, eyes stinging. Not from tears, but from the wind kicking grit into his face. Who exactly was Atlas?

Meanwhile, Atlas knew he was being followed. He had no reason to stop the guy. Not yet, because Zhan already crossed a line since then. And he didn't mind testing boundaries. Not when when someone willingly stepped past the edge. Atlas let him watch, the moment Zhan peeked through that window. Let him see what kind of person he was.

After that, Zhan had fled the scene. He couldn't process what he'd seen and went straight back to Atlas's apartment. And for Atlas, he didn't go straight back to home. He took his time. Wandered around while drinking bitter black coffee from a street cart. Watched pigeons fight over crumbs near a bus stop. He called an Uber.

"How far do you want to inspect me, Zhan?" He muttered to himself with smirk.

When Atlas finally got home, the lights were on. Zhan was standing in the middle of the living room, his fists clenched at his sides. Tense and waiting. Then, Atlas shut the door behind him quietly.

"Enjoy the little field trip?" Atlas asked.

Zhan didn't say a word. Just clenched his jaw, pain flickering across his face as he stared at Atlas. His arm hovered near his side and his fingers curled slightly. Atlas noticed. He stepped closer, then reached out and brushed his fingers along Zhan's ribs.

"You followed me..." He murmured.

Then, without warning, he pressed, just enough to make Zhan wince.

"You fell..." Atlas said flatly, like an observation, not a question.

Zhan blinked. His eyes stung

"W-what now? You going to threaten me? Erase my memory?" He snapped.

Atlas laughed that sound so soft and amused,

"You think too small." He paused, then continue,

"I wanted to see what you'd become," he said,

"get some rest." Atlas gave his ribs a light pat and turned away. Zhan stared at him, not in fear, but something that looked far more dangerous...somewhat understanding.

Atlas didn't sleep after that. Not because of guilt, he won't feel something like that. He lay awake, staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore the presence down the hall, the steady, living heat of someone who shouldn't be here. Someone who every reason to walk out, yet he hadn't.

Zhan lay awake too. The room was dark, but his thoughts were loud. It just like Atlas's voice echoed in his skull.

"I wanted to see what you'd become."

That wasn't something you said to someone you pitied, but was something you said to a project. Or maybe a challenge. He wasn't sure which one he was. At some point, the silence became unbearable. He opened his door just as Atlas opened his. They met in the narrow hallway between rooms with barefoot, quiet and guarded. Neither of them spoke. The air between them was heavy with what hadn't been said.

Atlas was the first to break it,

"Packing your stuff?" He asked.

Zhan crossed his arms,

"You sound disappointed."

"I'm not," Atlas said,

"Just surprised."

Zhan's jaw clenched,

"You beat me. Took me in like it was charity. Then dragged me into something I don't understand."

Atlas stepped closer. Not aggressive. Just...deliberate,

"And yet?" He asked softly.

Zhan didn't move,

"...I...I'm still here." He repeated.

Atlas looked at him, really looked. His gaze lingered too long, too sharp. It wasn't about attraction, but it was assessment and calculation. Then, his expression shifted. Softened by a fraction,

"I didn't drag you. I don't force thing. Remember?" Atlas asked.

Zhan hesitated,

"To be honest, I don't know..." He admitted.

That answer seemed to satisfy Atlas more than any lie would've. He leaned against the wall, arms folded,

"I'm not going to hurt you again," he said,

"Not unless you ask me to."

Zhan flustered,

"The fuck does that mean?"

Atlas's mouth twitched. Not a smile, but a warning in disguise,

"It means I won't breaking things I might need later."

"Need?" Zhan echoed, incredulous.

Atlas didn't explain nor clarify. There, as always with his cryptic words. Silence followed. The kind thick enough to chew. Zhan stared at him for a long moment, his hands curling into fists at his sides again. He stepped closer, close enough to breathe the same air.

"Say that shit again," Zhan murmured, his voice low, and trembling with restraint,

"and I might just punch you."

"You're welcome to try." Atlas replied, calm and almost...curious.

Their faces were only inch part. The tension could have snapped. But it didn't. Instead, Zhan stepped back and Atlas let him. Whatever almost happened...didn't. But it lived in the space between them now.

To be continue...

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