The day's lectures dragged to a close, and the four of them walked back across the wide stone path toward the dorms. The academy's towers loomed in the twilight, their windows glowing with warm lamplight.
Arya clutched her satchel tighter, glancing at the boys—Ryu with his usual calm stride, Xavier humming some careless tune, and Daven pretending he wasn't exhausted from sword drills. Something inside her stirred with warmth. For once, she wasn't alone.
"I'll cook dinner tonight," Arya blurted, surprising even herself.
Xavier nearly tripped. "You… cook?"
Ryu raised a brow, intrigued. "You don't have to."
"I want to," Arya insisted. Her lips curled in a soft smile. "You've all been kind to me. It's the least I can do."
So, in the tiny dorm kitchen, Arya tied her hair back and began. It didn't go as smoothly as she hoped—steam filled the air, spices clashed like enemies, and the bread turned far too hard. By the time she placed the meal before them, it was… questionable.
"Ta-da!" Arya beamed proudly, though a faint blush betrayed her nervousness.
The boys stared. The dish was smoking faintly.
Ryu was the first to recover, grabbing a fork. "Well, it looks… hearty." He forced a bite into his mouth. His expressionless face twitched.
"Good?" Arya asked eagerly.
"Excellent," Ryu croaked, pounding his chest discreetly when she turned away.
Xavier leaned over, whispering to Ryu, "If I don't survive this, tell my family I went out bravely." Then he shoveled a spoonful in. His eyes watered instantly.
Daven, composed as ever, ate in silence. His expression didn't change, but the way he reached for his water a little too quickly betrayed him.
Arya's eyes sparkled. "Should I serve you more?"
"NO!" All three chorused at once.
The force of it made Arya blink.
Ryu cleared his throat. "What we mean is… we're full."
"Yes, absolutely stuffed," Xavier added, patting his stomach with exaggerated relief. "Couldn't eat another bite if you paid me."
Daven nodded furiously, still trying to swallow.
Arya tilted her head suspiciously, but before she could press, Xavier grinned. "Hey, I've got a better idea. Since it's still early… let's sneak out. Pizza bar."
Arya gasped. "But curfew—"
"Curfew, shmurfew," Xavier waved a hand. "What's life without a little danger? Besides, after tonight's dinner attempt, we owe our stomachs some mercy."
Ryu smirked. "He's not wrong."
Daven said nothing, but the faint twitch of his lips betrayed agreement.
And so, under cover of dusk, they slipped past the academy gates, laughter muffled as they darted through quiet streets until the glowing sign of the Pizza Bar welcomed them in. The warm scent of cheese and herbs enveloped them, and Arya's stomach growled in betrayal.
As they slid into a booth, a familiar voice startled her.
"Arya?"
She turned—and there he was. Elijah. His brown hair caught the lamplight, his smile hesitant. Her heart jumped, but the memory of the Welcome Ball stung.
"You left me," she said flatly.
Elijah winced, running a hand through his hair. "I know. I messed up. I shouldn't have… I just… got scared, Arya. Everyone staring, all the titles and rules. I'm sorry."
She crossed her arms, lips pursed. "That's not an excuse."
Elijah stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Forgive me? Please?"
Arya hesitated. The ache of being left alone that night still lingered. But then Elijah, grinning mischievously, extended his hands, pretending the prince and his friends didn't exist. "What if we settle this the old way?"
Arya blinked. "No, Elijah, not here—"
But he was already humming the silly tune from their orphanage days, stepping into the goofy dance they'd made as children. He kicked, spun lopsidedly, and clapped in an offbeat rhythm that had half the Pizza Bar staring.
Arya bit her lip, trying to stay mad. But his exaggerated moves cracked through her defenses. A laugh burst out, light and genuine.
"Fine," she said, sliding out of the booth and joining him. Together, they stumbled through the clumsy, ridiculous dance—two children playing again in a world that had grown far too heavy.
The boys watched from the table. Xavier snorted into his drink. "And here I thought sneaking out for pizza was wild."
Xavier smirked. "Looks like her bestie just raised the stakes."
But Ryu… Ryu's gaze lingered on Arya, the way her laughter lit her face, how she seemed freer than he'd ever seen her. His chest tightened—not with jealousy, but with something deeper, something he wasn't yet ready to name.
And for that one stolen night, under the glow of the Pizza Bar lights, Arya felt like she belonged.