By the time they reached Maya's gate, the rain had softened into a steady drizzle, tapping against the metal like gentle fingers. Warm light spilled from the small living room window, and the smell of pepper soup drifted across the compound.
"Thank you," Maya said, turning to Leon and Richard, who were still standing like rival guardians on either side of her.
Leon folded his arms. "I'm walking you inside."
Richard raised a brow—cool, controlled, superior. "Her gate is right here, Leon."
"She can slip on the walkway. It's wet."
Richard scoffed. "And you think she'll suddenly forget how to use her legs?"
"I think you should mind your own business."
"And I think—"
"STOP."
Her voice cracked through the air. Both boys went still.
Maya let out a breath and pushed her wet hair back. "I'm going inside. You two, go home before this rain starts again. Please."
For a full second, neither moved. They looked at her—really looked—eyes holding unspoken claims and unspoken wounds.
"Goodnight, Maya," Richard said first, stepping back with a gentleman's bow he knew annoyed Leon.
Leon rolled his eyes dramatically. "See you tomorrow," he said, softer, warmer.
She nodded at both and opened the creaky gate. But as she stepped through, she paused—because strange as it was, she could feel both their eyes on her back. Not in the childish way of before. Not like two boys protecting their friend.
Inside the house,Maya slipped off her shoes and walked into the living room. Her mother, Mrs. Harrin, looked up from the pot of soup she was stirring.
"You're late," she said, but her voice held only worry.
"It rained."
Her mother narrowed her eyes. "Richard came to look for you. Then Leon ran out like he was going to fight a lion. I knew something was wrong."
Maya froze. "They both came?"
"They always come," her mother said knowingly. "Those boys orbit you like planets around the sun."
Maya's cheeks heated. "It's not like that."
"Mmm." Her mother smiled, stirring slowly. "You will understand one day."
Maya wanted to reply—but the words got stuck in her throat. Because deep down, she did understand. She had known Leon all her life—loyal, stubborn, reckless Leon who would throw himself into fire for her. And Richard… cold, calculating Richard, who pretended not to care but always watched her when he thought she wasn't looking.
Meanwhile… outside the gate
Leon and Richard stood in the rain's afterglow, water dripping from their hair, neither making a move to leave.
Richard finally spoke. "Why are you still here?"
Leon shrugged. "Why are you?"
Richard tightened his grip on his umbrella. "I don't trust you."
Leon barked a humorless laugh. "Good. Because I don't trust you either."
"You act like she belongs to you."
"And you act like she's a trophy."
Richard inhaled sharply. "Maya isn't a prize, Leon."
"No," Leon said, eyes narrowing, "she's someone we both care about. But you? You only started acting like you cared after—"
He stopped.
Richard's eyes cooled. "After what?"
Leon clenched his jaw. "Nothing."
Richard studied him for a long moment. "You're hiding something."
Leon turned away. "Go home, Richard."
But as Richard finally walked off, he whispered under his breath, "Maya is not choosing you."
Leon barely slept.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw two things: Richard's smirk under the streetlight, and Maya's worried glance as she slipped into her house. His mind replayed the evening like a broken film—Maya's fear, Richard arriving first, the walk in the rain… and the final jab Richard threw before walking away.
"Maya is not choosing you."
Leon turned in bed and stared at the ceiling.
Richard had always challenged him, but something last night had felt different—like an invisible line had been drawn between them. A line neither was willing to step back from.
At 6:30 AM, Leon gave up on sleep. He dragged himself out of bed, splashed cold water on his face, and opened the door—only to find Richard already dressed, sitting on his desk chair, casually flipping through a book.
Leon blinked. "You're up?"
Richard didn't look up. "I always get up early."