The next day.
School gates buzzed with noise—students laughing, bags swinging, morning chaos everywhere.
Emma arrived calmly, hands in her pockets.
And immediately saw it.
Arthur.
Standing near the gate. Waiting.
Nervous posture. Hands fidgeting. Eyes scanning every face until—
He saw her.
His face lit up.
Before he could even take a step—
"NO."
Diana was already there.
She planted herself between them like a human wall.
"You are NOT waiting for her," Diana said, pushing Arthur back with one finger to the chest.
"I— I just wanted to walk with—" Arthur started.
"No."
"I wasn't doing anything bad—"
"No."
Arthur tried to step to the side.
Diana mirrored him.
Blocked.
"Diana—" Emma said calmly.
Diana didn't turn. "Emma, this is a predator."
"I am NOT—" Arthur panicked.
"You danced with her. That's step one."
"That was mutual!"
"Exactly. Dangerous."
Arthur looked at Emma desperately. "I just wanted to say hi."
Emma sighed.
"Diana," she said evenly. "Enough."
Diana finally turned to her. "Emma. He is standing. Too close. To your existence."
Emma stepped forward.
Arthur straightened immediately.
"…Hi," he said, voice quiet.
"Hi," Emma replied.
Diana crossed her arms. "Five steps away."
Arthur took two.
"…More."
He took five.
Satisfied, Diana nodded.
Emma glanced at Arthur. "You don't have to wait outside the gate."
Arthur nodded quickly. "I—I won't next time."
"Good."
She walked past him toward the school.
Diana followed, still glaring over her shoulder.
Arthur watched them go—
Heart racing.
And Diana muttered under her breath:
"…I don't like him."
Emma replied without looking back.
"I know."
---
Class was quiet.
The teacher was writing on the board, back turned, chalk scratching steadily.
Diana stood up.
"Bathroom," she said loudly, not even waiting for permission.
She left.
The seat beside Emma was suddenly… empty.
Arthur noticed immediately.
He hesitated.
Then—slowly—he stood up and walked over.
"…Can I sit here?" he whispered.
Emma didn't look at him.
"It's a free chair."
He sat.
Too close.
Arthur's heart was beating so loud he was sure she could hear it. He glanced at her hand resting on the desk—calm, still, fingers relaxed.
He swallowed.
Carefully… awkwardly… he moved his hand closer.
Just a little.
Their fingers brushed.
Emma felt it instantly.
She turned her head and looked at him.
Not angry.
Not flustered.
Just direct.
Arthur froze.
"S-sorry," he whispered, pulling his hand back slightly. "I just— I thought—"
Emma spoke quietly, so only he could hear.
"…If you're going to do something," she said, "don't hesitate."
Arthur blinked.
"…What?"
She gently placed her hand back on the desk.
Still.
Open.
Arthur's breath caught.
Slowly—respectfully—he placed his hand over hers.
This time, Emma didn't pull away.
She didn't squeeze back either.
She simply allowed it.
Arthur's face turned red instantly.
The teacher turned around.
Arthur nearly jumped out of his seat.
Emma didn't react.
She kept her eyes forward, hand steady under his.
From the doorway—
"EMMA."
Diana's voice.
Arthur flinched like he'd been shot.
Diana stared.
At their hands.
At Arthur.
Silence.
"…Remove," Diana said calmly.
Arthur released Emma's hand so fast it was impressive.
Emma finally looked at Diana.
"…You're back early."
Diana sat down slowly, eyes never leaving Arthur.
"Bathroom was fast," she said.
"…My threat is not."
---
Emma felt it before she fully understood it.
A shift.
Her eyes moved—slow, natural—toward the back of the classroom.
A guy she didn't recognize was standing near the door. Older than most students. Not a teacher. Not staff. His posture was wrong—too still, too alert.
He wasn't looking at the board.
He was looking out the window.
As if waiting for something.
Then—
he turned.
Their eyes met for a brief second.
His expression didn't change.
He stepped out of the classroom.
Gone.
The door clicked softly shut.
Emma didn't react outwardly.
She didn't tense. Didn't follow.
She simply remembered.
Filed it away.
Diana leaned over slightly. "What."
Emma replied quietly, eyes forward.
"Nothing."
Arthur glanced between them, confused.
The teacher continued talking, unaware.
But Emma's focus wasn't fully there anymore.
Someone was starting something.
She didn't know what.
Not yet.
But she would.
And when it happened—
she'd already be ready.
----
School ended.
Students poured out, voices mixing into noise.
Diana was already halfway gone.
"I HAVE TO GO," she shouted while running backward. "I MISS MY DAYUM BIRD."
"Don't steal another one," Emma replied.
"No promises!"
And just like that—Diana vanished down the street.
Arthur stayed.
He walked beside Emma, quiet but clearly happy just to be there. He kept glancing at her, like he was afraid she'd disappear if he looked away too long.
They were halfway down the block when—
Arthur slowed.
His shoulders stiffened.
Emma noticed the shift immediately.
Someone was standing ahead of them.
Liam.
Leaning against his bike, arms crossed, eyes fixed on Emma.
Arthur swallowed.
Liam straightened and walked toward them.
Arthur felt it instantly—pressure. The kind that makes your instincts scream danger.
Emma didn't flinch.
Liam stopped in front of them and looked at Arthur.
Not up and down.
Not curious.
Just… sharp. Assessing. Claiming space without touching.
"You," Liam said calmly. "Go."
Arthur blinked. "W-what?"
"I need to talk to her," Liam continued. "Privately."
Arthur looked at Emma, unsure. "Emma, I—"
"It's fine," Emma said evenly. "I'll be okay."
Arthur hesitated.
Liam took one step closer.
Arthur took one step back.
"…Okay," Arthur muttered. "I'll— I'll see you tomorrow."
He left quickly, not looking back.
Silence fell between Emma and Liam.
Cars passed. Wind moved lightly.
Liam finally looked at her properly.
"You're calm," he said.
"I usually am," Emma replied.
He nodded once.
"Vex is alive," Liam said. "Recovering."
Emma's eyes sharpened.
"…How long."
"A few days," Liam answered. "Maybe less."
She exhaled slowly.
"He won't come loud," she said.
"No," Liam agreed. "He'll come smart."
They stood there for a moment.
Liam's jaw tightened. There was something he didn't say—something sitting heavy in his chest. The memory of how close he'd been to her last night. How easy it would've been to lean in.
He didn't.
Instead, he said quietly, "Be careful."
Emma met his eyes.
"I always am."
Another pause.
Then she stepped past him, heading home.
Liam watched her go.
Hands clenched.
----
Arthur went back home alone.
The gates opened automatically as he approached. The house was huge—clean, quiet, perfect in the way places feel when no one actually lives in them.
Inside, lights were already on.
Not for him.
For convenience.
He dropped his bag near the stairs and walked through the living room. Marble floors. Expensive furniture no one sat on. A large screen playing the news to an empty couch.
Voices came from another room.
His parents.
Both on separate calls.
His mother stood near the window, phone pressed to her ear, heels still on.
"Yes, I'll send the file tonight… no, tomorrow morning is fine."
His father passed by him without stopping, tie loosened, laptop under one arm.
"Arthur," he said quickly. "You ate?"
"…Not yet," Arthur replied.
"That's fine," his father said absently. "Order something. We'll be late."
His mother glanced over, smiling warmly for half a second.
"Goodnight, sweetheart. Study well."
Then she turned back to her call.
Arthur nodded.
They loved him.
He knew that.
They paid for everything. School. Clothes. Tutors. Anything he asked for.
Just not time.
He went upstairs to his room—bigger than most apartments. Sat on his bed. The silence pressed in.
He took out his phone.
Scrolled.
Stopped on one contact.
Emma.
He stared at the name.
At how calm she was. How present. How she actually looked at people when they spoke.
He smiled faintly.
Downstairs, the house stayed bright.
But Arthur's room stayed quiet.
The door to Arthur's room knocked softly.
Before he could answer, it opened just a little.
She stepped in.
One of the household helpers—early 30s, always perfectly dressed, calm voice, confident posture. She was the one who managed schedules, documents, meals, everything his parents didn't have time for. To the house, she was indispensable.
To Arthur… she was overwhelming.
"Arthur," she said gently, closing the door behind her. "You didn't eat."
"I'm not hungry," he replied.
She frowned, walked closer, and placed a tray on his desk anyway.
"You always say that when you're sad."
He looked away.
She sat on the edge of the chair, crossing her legs, studying him the way adults do when they think they understand everything.
"You know," she said softly, "your parents worry about you. They just… don't know how to show it."
Arthur didn't answer.
She leaned forward slightly. Too close.
"I take care of this house," she continued. "I take care of you. Someone has to."
Her tone shifted—warmer, almost possessive.
"You're a good boy, Arthur. Kind. Polite. Any woman would be lucky to have you someday."
That made him uncomfortable.
He stood up. "You should go."
She blinked, surprised… then smiled again, slower this time.
"I'm just looking out for you," she said. "Get some rest."
She walked to the door, paused, and glanced back.
"Take care, Arthur."
The door closed.
Arthur let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.
He sat back down on his bed, staring at the floor.
The house was full of people.
Yet he'd never felt more alone.
Chapter end