Kieron forced a smile, though the corners of his lips trembled as if bearing a quiet ache. "Leciara… she is—"
Leci could feel her heartbeat stumbling over itself, each thump louder than the last. Anxious. Curious. Terrified of what he might say — especially when it was something about her. Part of her wanted to know the truth; another part feared it might shatter her.
Before Kieron could speak further—
"Jayden! There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you!"
Norris's shout exploded through the quiet hallway, startling every soul present. In an instant, he became the center of attention — drawing both Kieron's and Jayden's gazes toward him.
Leci lifted both eyebrows as she watched Norris shuffle awkwardly toward the two boys in front of the library. Her cousin greeted Kieron with a polite, overly bright smile.
"Good morning, Sir!" he chirped — no, performed cheerfully, as though trying to dissolve the tense atmosphere clinging to the air.
From where he stood, Kieron looked genuinely puzzled by Norris's sudden appearance. But his gaze shifted — slowly, almost instinctively — toward Leci, who stood stiffly beside Taryn. The aura around him softened, melting from icy intimidation into something warmer… gentler. No longer as suffocating as moments ago.
"Since class is about to start soon, we should head back now. Excuse us, Sir." Norris bowed stiffly to Kieron — awkward yet strangely earnest — before tugging Jayden away with long, hurried steps.
He wore a strained expression when he passed by Leci. A silent message. A quiet warning. Or perhaps… an apology.
So that's what this is, Leci thought as the meaning clicked in her chest. She never expected Norris to be this perceptive. He had pulled Jayden away on purpose — if only to avoid fanning the sparks of conflict between him and Kieron. She was grateful… but also frustrated. Because now she might never hear what Kieron had wanted to say.
The corridor fell into a strange hush once the boys left. Too quiet. Too still. Leci found herself uncertain — should she move forward and pass by Kieron, or step back and escape to her classroom? She didn't know how to face him… not after last night, not after this morning's tension.
"Leciara, how are you feeling today?" Kieron's voice cut through the silence, warm on the surface yet carrying an unreadable undertone — a tone that felt too intentional, as though crafted for the ears of Taryn beside her.
Of course. He was acting. Pretending. Playing the role of the polite Biology teacher so Taryn wouldn't suspect that the black crow from last night had actually been him.
Caught off guard by the greeting, Leci had no choice but to step forward. She couldn't pretend not to hear him — not when his voice wrapped around her so clearly.
Still holding Taryn's hand, she approached with small steps. "Good morning, Sir," Leci and Taryn said together.
"I'm fine," Leci added politely, lifting her chin just a little. She answered his earlier question, forcing herself to maintain composure under his gaze. Then she dipped her head respectfully. "Excuse me."
She ended the conversation deliberately. Class was starting soon; she didn't have the luxury of time. But Kieron was never the type to simply let her walk away.
Leci managed only one step before a hand gently stopped her shoulder.
"Keep this," Kieron said softly.
A handkerchief — white, carefully folded — was offered to her.
Leci blinked, confused. She had no idea what he meant or why he was giving it to her. From the corner of her eye, she studied his expression, hoping for context.
But Kieron only smiled… a quiet, mysterious curve of lips that offered no explanation.
Defeated, Leci accepted the handkerchief. She slipped it into her blazer pocket before continuing on her way. When she glanced back, Kieron was waving lightly — calm now, as if nothing had happened.
By the time she reached the infirmary room, Leci finally let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. The tension from seeing Kieron and Jayden face-to-face had been unbearable.
With gentle hands and a worried heart, Leci guided Taryn to sit on the infirmary cot. The quiet room smelled faintly of antiseptic and morning sunlight, but beneath it Leci sensed something else — the faint, lingering trace of something dark.
She closed her eyes for a moment, letting her senses sharpen.
There was a malignant aura clinging to Taryn's body… but only thinly, like a smear of soot on white fabric. A remnant, not an infection. It hadn't sunk deep. It hadn't consumed her.
Relief loosened the tightness in Leci's shoulders. Good… it hasn't taken root. I can still cleanse this easily.
Her palms hovered over Taryn as she began purifying the dark aura, coaxing it away brush by brush, as though wiping dew from fragile petals.
"How is it?" Leci asked softly once she finished, lowering her hands.
Taryn blinked slowly as if testing the sensation within her own body. "Oh? I feel… lighter," she murmured. Then she yawned — a wide, helpless yawn that made her eyes water. "And a little sleepy."
A small laugh slipped from Leci. Her purification always made people drowsy; it was a sign it had worked. Good. That meant Taryn was safe.
"You should rest. I'll ask permission from your first-period teacher," Leci suggested warmly.
Taryn didn't argue. In fact, she had already lain down before Leci even finished speaking. The girl's exhaustion was undeniable; the moment her head touched the pillow, her eyelids drooped like wilting flowers.
"My first class is Biology," she mumbled.
Leci froze for a fraction of a second.
Biology. Kieron.
Before she could process that thought fully, Taryn suddenly smiled — a faint, sleepy smile that felt strangely suspicious.
"Please… help me with this, Leci," she whispered, her voice soft as drifting smoke.
Leci opened her mouth to respond, but Taryn had already shut her eyes, pretending to sleep. Completely unreachable. Completely unbothered.
Leci let out a long, frustrated breath.
Why didn't you tell me earlier when we passed each other?! she grumbled inwardly. But she couldn't exactly scold a girl who had already drifted off.
Sighing again, Leci rose from her seat. She couldn't stay any longer; class would start soon, and she still had to deliver the permission notice.
She left the infirmary quietly, sparing one last glance at her resting friend before stepping into the bustling hallway.
The door clicked softly behind Leci as she stepped out of the infirmary, leaving Taryn to rest. If she didn't hurry, she would miss the first bell — and today, of all days, the first class was Mathematics, taught by one of the strictest teachers in the school.
She exhaled sharply and broke into a brisk walk.
The hallway of Building A was already alive with chaos. Morning footsteps overlapped, conversations tangled in the air, and the flood of students moving in every direction made it difficult to slip through. Every attempt to dodge left or right only resulted in someone brushing against her shoulder.
Time pressed on her back like a hand urging her forward.
She needed to reach Class 2-A — Taryn's classroom — just long enough to deliver the permission note before the teacher arrived.
But as Leci pushed through the crowd, it became painfully clear: the busiest moment before class was now. Everyone surged toward their own rooms, a rushing tide she was forced to swim through.
She gripped her blazer, determined—
And then—
Thud!
A collision. A splash.
Cold water seeped into her blazer and skirt, clinging to the fabric like a sudden slap of reality.
For a heartbeat, Leci didn't even look up. Of course this would happen. Even when she was careful, someone else might not be.
She glanced down at her wet uniform, then finally lifted her eyes — and found a familiar figure standing before her, hands covering her mouth in shock.
Devanie. Her clubmate. Her curls looked even curlier from her frantic nodding.
"I—I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to!" Devanie blurted, nearly panicked.
Looking at her round, innocent face, Leci found it hard to believe this was the same girl accused of improper behavior in the Journalism Club room weeks ago. Some people simply didn't match the rumors that shadowed them.
Leci forced a polite smile.
"It's fine. Just mineral water—it'll dry." She reached into her blazer pocket, remembering the handkerchief Kieron had pressed into her palm minutes earlier. Of all times, she was now grateful for it.
She dabbed her skirt gently. The handkerchief still carried Kieron's faint scent — warm, woody, unsettling in ways she refused to think about.
Devanie's eyes widened when she realized who she had bumped into. "Leciara… I'm really sorry," she repeated, bowing her head.
Leci nodded. "If you're that sorry, could you tell your first-period teacher that Taryn is absent due to illness?" Her tone remained soft, but something in her smile sharpened ever so slightly — a quiet pressure that made Devanie straighten instantly.
"Yes! I'll tell them! I promise!"
Satisfied, Leci tucked the handkerchief away. The bell rang sharply a second later, and she had no choice but to hurry off. She didn't notice Devanie opening her mouth hesitantly, as if wanting to say something more — only to close it again when Leci turned her back.
It wasn't important. Devanie had only recognized something familiar — Leci's perfume, the faint scent she had smelled days ago in the Journalism Club room…
when she had accidentally walked in on someone.
Someone wearing that same fragrance.
And now, she wondered if it had been Leci all along.
Because Leci had already left, Devanie returned to her classroom. She had barely taken her seat when Kieron, their Biology teacher, appeared at the doorway — punctual as always. Handsome, intelligent, and notoriously precise with time… a combination that earned him groans from the boys and barely contained cheers from the girls.
Before beginning the lesson, teachers usually took attendance, and Kieron was no exception. He started calling names from the top of the 2-A list, his voice calm and steady, until it landed on one name that did not receive an answer.
"Taryn Fidelma?"
As the one entrusted with the message, Devanie raised her hand. "Taryn asked for permission not to attend because she's unwell, Sir," she reported, repeating exactly what Leci had told her.
Kieron nodded once, then continued calling the rest of the names, jotting a brief note beside Taryn's. Only after he finished the roll did he proceed to explain the day's lesson.
That day, thirty minutes before class was scheduled to end, Kieron distributed three questions the students had to complete. While his students bent over their papers, he moved about the room with quiet footsteps — watching, listening, making sure no one cheated.
As he passed Devanie's desk, the girl glanced up instinctively. It was the perfume — the faint trace of a scent too similar to Leci's. A fragrance that dragged her memory back to the night in the Journalism Club room… to the moment she had stumbled upon something she shouldn't have seen.
Without meaning to, Devanie lifted her head for a clearer look at Kieron. And in the next heartbeat, terror seized her.
The obsidian eyes she met were nothing like a human's. There was a depth in them — feral, predatory — something that felt as though it could swallow her whole. Devanie froze, confused and horrified. Why was he looking at her like that? Her entire body trembled.
Something was wrong. Deeply, dreadfully wrong. Humans had round pupils… but the pupils she saw were elongated, narrow — like the eyes of a beast lurking in the dark.
Devanie's breath caught. Her mind blanked out.
Then a large hand descended onto her test paper — still completely empty.
Slowly, dreadfully, Kieron's shadowed face appeared in her line of sight.
"Why haven't you started, Devanie Amberlie?"
At that moment, Devanie felt as though she might faint from sheer fear.