Thursday arrived with the crispness of early morning dew still clinging to the trimmed hedges outside Moonstone Academy. Adam's eyelids peeled open groggily at first, but unlike the chaotic pace of the day before, everything felt... normal. Strangely so.
After dressing and grabbing a quick breakfast from the cafeteria, a bowl of oats and a banana, he found himself adjusting more easily to his new role. His second day as the Deputy Head of Sports and Clubs Activities had begun with fewer question marks than the first.
It felt oddly natural.
Between classes, he'd started using the ten-minute breaks to check the bulletin board by the gym entrance, making sure updates to club notices were properly pinned and removing outdated flyers.
He found himself reminding the martial arts team to reserve mats ahead of time, and even offered advice to the drama club when they debated lighting for their next production.
"You're getting used to this too easily," Aiva teased in passing, nudging him with her elbow during lunch. "Guess being a big shot suits you."
"Don't jinx it," Adam had muttered, half-laughing. Deep down though, he agreed with her. The role felt manageable. Grounded. Like he had a place.
That illusion ended at around 4 p.m.
He had just exited the main building when Damian Salazar approached him. Damian was shorter than Adam by a few inches, mid-height, stocky with a runner's build, and carried himself with a soldier's efficiency. He was a first year.
Which was odd in its own right, usually the heads of a department would be the second years and the deputies would be the first years. And that was the case for all the other 3 departments except his. But he couldn't complain. i mean less work for him, right?
His brown skin glistened slightly under the sunlight, and his round glasses gave him a studious air that felt more intimidating than friendly.
"Adam," Damian said without greeting, flipping a clipboard into Adam's hands along with a brass ring of keys. "Inventory check. All club supplies. It's your job to make sure we're stocked. List anything that's missing. Got it?"
Adam blinked, looking at the clipboard. It was three pages thick, detailing each club's equipment, the storerooms assigned to them, and a notes section.
"Isn't there a... like, a logistics person for this or something?"
Damian didn't answer. He just patted Adam's shoulder and walked off with the dispassionate stride of someone who had clearly passed the baton.
"...Right," Adam muttered. "Guess this peaceful day's over."
And it really was.
He started in the east wing, checking in with the more casual clubs, debate, chess, baking. Most didn't need an in-room visit; a quick word with the club leaders sufficed. Their supplies were things like notebooks, ingredients, extra folding tables, simple stuff.
But then he got to the Archery Club.
The room was tucked away behind the outdoor range, near a quiet annex of the field building. Adam unlocked it with one of the brass keys, stepped inside, and stopped.
The space smelled like polished wood and old leather. Rows of bows hung on metallic racks, quivers mounted neatly beneath them. Crossbows lined one wall, their mechanisms gleaming under the overhead lights.
On the far end, an entire section had been cordoned off behind a locked gate labeled Restricted: Historical Collection. He saw relics in there. Short swords, longbows carved from yew, even a few throwing knives in velvet cases.
Adam let out a low whistle. "What kind of school is this..."
He checked the inventory, marked the boxes, and noted down a few missing bolts and feathers. As he stepped out, he made sure the door was locked behind him.
He was halfway to the council room when something, or rather someone, stopped him in his tracks.
Harris.
He stood near the administration hall, surrounded by luggage. The once-imposing figure of Harris, broad-shouldered, confident, always with that thuggish grin, was a shadow of itself.
He looked like he hadn't slept in days. The bags under his eyes sagged, his lips cracked, and his movements were sluggish. The blazer he wore drooped from his frame, and he clutched a file in one hand and the secretary's rolled-up planner in the other.
Adam slowed down, eyes narrowing. "Yo... Harris? What's going on? Are you—leaving?"
Harris looked up slowly, eyes glassy. For a moment, recognition flickered—and then something else.
"You got what you wanted, huh?" he said, voice low, bitter. "Whatever you paid them to do this to me... congratulations. You win. I just hope you can live with yourself."
Adam reeled. "What? Paid who? What are you talking about—?"
But Harris's expression changed.
Like someone pulling a curtain back and realizing they were never on stage to begin with.
His brow furrowed. His gaze darted to the ground, then the file in his hand. "I... I don't know what I'm talking about," he muttered, dazed. "I just want to go. I need to leave."
And then he walked past Adam without another word, rolling his suitcase behind him, the secretary tailing a few steps behind.
Adam stood there in the hallway, stunned.
Harris had dropped out. Just like that.
Back in the dorm later that night, Adam tried bringing it up with Bryce and Aiva. Neither had much to say.
"We've got midterms coming, dude," Bryce said, face deep in a textbook. "Can't worry about Harris now."
"And then this threat thing too," Aiva added with a half-hearted shrug. "The city's too tense for school gossip."
But it didn't feel like gossip.
Not to Adam.
He stared out the dorm window that night, watching the stars shimmer over Moonstone's quiet campus.
Why did he feel like something bigger had just happened?
***
The air was cool and dry, brushing softly against the skin like the memory of touch. A gentle wind whispered through the Moonstone Academy campus, rustling trees and sending scattered leaves skating across the stone walkways. The stars glimmered above, sharp and clean, almost mocking in how distant and serene they were compared to the weight of the day Adam carried.
It was 10 p.m. sharp when Adam stepped out of the boys' Dorm House. The door clicked shut behind him, the echo swallowed quickly by the vastness of the empty school grounds. The lamplights along the pathways glowed with a muted amber hue, casting long shadows that danced behind him like silent ghosts.
Aiva was already waiting by the entrance of the west wing, arms folded and eyes fixed on the main building as if scanning it for signs of life. She wore a dark navy hoodie over some pyjamas, her long braids tied into a loose bun behind her head. The moonlight caught the silver glint of the earring on her right ear, a subtle reminder of who she was beneath the layers she wore.
Adam approached quietly, and she turned at the sound of his footsteps.
"You're late," she said, not unkindly.
"Barely," he replied, offering a half-smile. "Traffic was hell."
She rolled her eyes, but a faint smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. Without another word, the two began walking in unison, their shoes making soft, rhythmic taps against the stone.
The school at night felt different. Not eerie, just... still. Like something ancient holding its breath. The once-busy halls now stood quiet, the classrooms darkened, save for the occasional overhead light left on by a forgetful student or teacher. Every door they passed bore the silence of sleep, each room a capsule of ideas and ambition, now on pause.
They began with the East Wing, Science and Literature. Aiva knocked softly on each classroom door, Adam peeking through glass panes to make sure they were empty. Most of them were.
"You ever think about how weird it is," Aiva asked, her voice low as they made their way up a flight of stairs, "how the same rooms that feel endless during the day feel... kinda small at night?"
Adam thought for a second. "I think it's because you can hear yourself think now. During the day it's like—"
"—your thoughts are screaming just to be heard." She nodded. "Exactly."
Their footsteps echoed through the corridor of the history department. A half-drawn map of the Moonstone Peninsula still hung on a board, half-forgotten chalk notes scrawled beside it. A faint scent of old paper and floor wax lingered.
"No one's here," Adam confirmed after checking the last room.
They made their way to the central rotunda. From there, they could see the entire open courtyard that separated the academic blocks from the arts and sports wings. The courtyard looked almost ethereal at this hour, the koi pond at its center still as glass, its surface reflecting the stars.
They crossed into the music building, where Aiva paused in front of a door, squinting through the glass.
"Wait, hold on. Someone's in there."
Adam leaned in too. Sure enough, inside the dim room, a girl sat at a piano. Her fingers moved soundlessly across the keys, she'd turned the volume down. Her head swayed gently with the rhythm she played.
"Should we tell her?" Adam whispered.
Aiva shook her head. "Let her finish. We'll circle back."
They moved on, weaving through the arts studios, drama rooms, and eventually the deserted sports wing. Locker doors were left half-closed. A pair of sneakers sat abandoned under a bench. Somewhere far off, a water pipe hummed.
It was strange, Adam thought. The school at this hour had a sacred stillness, like walking through the bones of a sleeping giant.
They re-emerged into the open and paused beneath the flagpoles, letting the moment breathe. The silence was no longer heavy, just... present. Shared.
"Think we've got everyone?" Adam asked.
Aiva nodded slowly. "Almost. We'll check on the music girl in a bit."
They lingered there, under the starlight, neither in a hurry to speak. The moon hovered above the treetops like an old eye, watching.
"So, about Harris leaving today" Adam said eventually, his tone unreadable.
Aiva glanced sideways at him, brow raised. "Yeah. I heard."
"He was just... gone. Bags packed. No goodbyes."
She was quiet for a beat. Then: "Well for me... Its like he was never really here to begin with."
Adam frowned at that. "What do you mean?"
Aiva shrugged. "I guess i just don't like him."
"Yeah," Adam admitted. "But still. It felt weird. Like... he was about to tell me something. Then forgot it himself."
They stood there a moment longer, letting that thought settle.
Eventually, Aiva nodded toward the courtyard. "Come on. One last stop. Then we call it."
They returned to the music room, and this time, the girl was gone. The bench stood empty. The silence had returned, complete now.
Adam reached into his pocket and pulled out the checklist. He glanced over it, checked off the last box, and then looked at Aiva.
"All done?" she asked.
He nodded.
They walked back toward the council wing in silence, their steps steady and slow.
The night had deepened, casting a hushed, solemn mood over the entire school grounds. Crickets chirped in soft intervals, blending with the gentle hum of distant campus lights and the rustle of trees swaying with the wind. It was a clear night, sharp, vast, and infinite, the stars scattered in all directions like grains of salt spilled across a black marble countertop.
Adam and Aiva walked in silence through the quiet corridors of the High school campus. The cool floor tiles echoed under their shoes as they headed to the council room to return the checklists. The evening patrol had officially ended, and most students were already tucked in their rooms, some asleep, others silently scrolling through their phones or whispering to roommates.
Aiva stopped just outside the main stairwell and looked up. The sky was visible through the window above the doorframe, framed in shadows and soft clouds.
"Hey," she said, her voice softer now, like a whisper carried by wind. "Wanna go up to the balcony? I haven't stargazed in a while."
Adam blinked. "The garden balcony?"
She gave a gentle nod. "Yeah. Could be nice. Besides... we earned it."
They ascended the staircase slowly. No rush. The metal steps creaked under their weight, but neither seemed to mind. The school was peaceful in this hour, every crevice and corridor washed in the calm of night.
When they reached the rooftop door, Aiva pushed it open. The wind immediately wrapped around them like a cool blanket. The scent of soil and faint jasmine greeted their noses, earthy and floral.
The garden on the roof was sparse this time of night, but it still carried a sense of presence. Life. The vines that curled along the railing twitched gently in the wind, and the faint buzz of cicadas surrounded them.
Aiva pulled a folded mat from the nearby shelf and rolled it out beside a patch of rosemary. She plopped down first, resting her arms behind her for support. Adam followed suit, folding his legs loosely under him as he leaned back beside her.
The stars shimmered above them.
"God," Aiva breathed, her tone reverent. "It's so damn pretty up here."
Adam chuckled. "Yeah. Almost makes me forget we're stuck in a school that feels more like a fortress."
They sat in easy silence for a while, just gazing upward. The moon glowed dimly tonight, allowing the constellations to shine more vividly. Orion. Cassiopeia. The subtle swirl of the Milky Way. The whole sky was a quiet canvas.
Aiva eventually broke the silence.
"You know," she murmured, her voice oddly contemplative, "I'd hoped I'd be paired up with Bryce. Nights like these... they would've been romantic."
Adam blinked, caught off guard. He turned his head slightly to study her face in the dim starlight. "Really? I mean... couldn't you have just talked to Morris about it?"
She sighed. "I did. But it turns out Bryce was the one who made sure we weren't paired."
Adam looked genuinely puzzled. "Wait, what? Why?"
Aiva leaned back fully now, lying against the mat, her eyes fixed on the stars. "He said... he wanted me to be more independent. Whatever that means."
Adam's brow furrowed. He didn't know what to say to that. There was something strange about it, a distance that didn't fit with the image he had of the two. A relationship built on strength, or so he thought.
Something tugged at the back of his mind. Maybe it was intuition. Maybe just the way she said it. But he had a sneaking suspicion that whatever Bryce and Aiva had, it might not last. He kept the thought to himself.
Instead, he exhaled slowly and pointed at the sky. "You ever feel like... you're part of something bigger? Like you're meant for more?"
Aiva tilted her head toward him, eyebrows raised. "That's deep. What brought that on?"
He hesitated. "I dunno. You asked about the stars... they kinda do that to you."
She hummed in agreement. "Yeah. I know what you mean."
Adam stared upward a moment longer. Then shook his head lightly. "But no. Not really. I mean, everything about my life has been pretty normal. Boring, even. I just wanna be a doctor someday. Or maybe an NBA player if I ever make it pro."
Aiva grinned. "Tall dreams. But hey, go for both. Save lives on weekdays, dunk on people weekends."
He laughed. "Exactly. Multitalented."
She giggled quietly beside him.
Then Adam turned his head toward her. "What about you? What's your story?"
There was a pause. Not long. But just long enough to feel loaded.
Aiva took in a slow breath.
"My memory's kinda fuzzy," she began, voice subdued. "But for as long as I can remember, I was an orphan. In New York. Bounced between shelters...until eventually I got adopted. The people I live with now."
Adam softened. "They must really love you. I mean... you're pretty amazing. Do they visit a lot?"
She hesitated. "They've never visited. Not once."
Adam looked down. "Oh."
Aiva wrapped her arms around her knees. "It's just been me here. Alone. For the most part."
He didn't say anything. Just listened.
She went on. "And that's when Bryce found me. When I was... broken, insecure and empty. He helped me. Picked me up. Gave me the strength to keep going. He made people see me, respect me. I don't know where I'd be without him."
Adam nodded, offering her a small smile. "That's... powerful."
But Aiva wasn't smiling.
"Sometimes I wonder if I did enough for him," she murmured. "Besides... I don't know. Having sex with him in the shed."
Adam blinked. "Damn. That's... brazen."
She chuckled half-heartedly.
He shook his head and leaned back beside her again. "But maybe that's all that matters. Maybe he just wants you to be your best self and be close to you. If he wanted something else, he'd ask."
Aiva looked at him sideways. "You think so? 'cuz... I mean... lately I've noticed something. He's been distant. Slowly pushing me away. Just a little. But it's there."
Adam reached over and gently took her hand.
"Whatever it is that's bothering you... I get it," he said. "But being cared about, that's rare. So just... live in the moment."
He nodded toward the stars.
Aiva stared up at them in silence. Her hand squeezed his a little tighter.
And for the first time in what felt like ages, she didn't feel broken. She didn't feel lost. She didn't feel small.
She just felt... at peace.
With the stars above her and the world momentarily quiet, she closed her eyes, and allowed herself to simply exist.