The hum of the orientation hall faded to a distant murmur as they stepped out into the cool night air. The path was empty now, the streetlights casting long shadows, and Vye felt a familiar peace settle over her. She glanced at Rhay, who was walking beside her, his expression a complicated mix of relief and a new tension she hadn't seen before.
"That was... something else," Vye said, the words a low murmur.
Rhay's laugh was strained. "Yeah. They were... an unexpected test." He paused, and a flash of frustration crossed his face. "I don't know what's with my brother, but his reputation seems to follow me everywhere. It's ridiculous."
Vye looked down at the notebooks in her hand, her thumb tracing the elegant, cryptic script Kay had left behind. Don't let him fade into the background. The words were a puzzle, a new mystery laid at her feet. She remembered Kay's eyes, filled with a sadness that felt too profound for a casual encounter.
"What did she mean?" Vye asked, her voice quiet. "That last one, Sister Kay. What did she mean?"
Rhay's silence was heavy. He looked at her, then away, his gaze fixed on the distance. "It's nothing," he said, his voice flat. "Just old school drama. It's not important."
Vye's hand came up, her fingers gently touching his arm, a silent but firm disagreement. "It felt important," she said. "She was warning me. About you. About your brother."
Rhay sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's complicated. My brother, Sam… he was a Senior, too. But it's an old story from when he was here in junior high. He has a way with girls, especially new students. He's charming, and he knows it. He makes friends easily, and well… he breaks a few hearts along the way."
Rhay's voice was low, filled with a quiet shame that wasn't his own. "He has a reputation. And because we look so much alike, almost every girl from his class assumes I'm the same."
The pieces clicked into place for Vye. Rue's cruel riddle. Kay's warning. It wasn't about Rhay. It was about the person everyone expected him to be.
"But you're not him," Vye said, her voice soft but certain.
He looked at her then, and his eyes, which had been so guarded, filled with a raw honesty. "No," he said, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "I'm not."
"I know," Vye said, a sudden sense of fierce protectiveness flooding through her. "His company. That's what makes you different."
The words hung in the air, a profound truth. Rhay's smile was no longer a ghost; it was a real, tangible thing. He reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. "Well, with a company like you, I couldn't possibly fade into the background," he said, the genuine, joyful smile spreading across his face.
"But, thank you," he added, the words filled with a gratitude that felt more intimate than a confession. "For seeing that."
They walked on in a comfortable silence until they reached Vye's dormitory wing. The moment of parting felt significant, the end of their first shared quest. Rhay felt the familiar sting of separation. Vye felt it too, but with a new sense of purpose. Her mind was already on the next task. She had a new piece to the puzzle, a new mystery to solve: who was Kay, and why was she so worried that Rhay would fade into the background?
"Goodnight, Vye," Rhay said, his voice a quiet promise. "Tomorrow, we'll get more signatures. Together."
Vye smiled. "Goodnight, Rhay. See you tomorrow."
She watched him walk away, his form fading into the shadows of the path. She didn't feel afraid. She felt a quiet sense of calm, the feeling of his company still lingering, even when he was no longer there.
Rhay entered the dorm, the hushed sounds of the communal study room a familiar comfort. He went straight to the shared bedroom, a quiet exhaustion settling over him as he navigated the tight, familiar rows of beds to reach his own. June was already there, a silent, comforting presence in the crowded room, busy preparing for sleep.
"Come back so late, huh?" June asked, his voice filled with a familiar, easygoing tease. "You were so excited doing your bio hunt with someone, you forgot all about your friend?"
Rhay threw his bag on his bed, a soft laugh escaping him. "Like you need my help. You're closer with more seniors than I am," he said, his voice laced with affectionate mockery. "You, our top scorer, the school's 'ace'."
"Haha, oh please, what are you?" June laughed, shaking his head. "A drama king?" His tone suddenly shifted, turning serious. "But jokes aside... I'm glad you're handling this, man. It's gotta hurt, right? About what happened with Claire?"
Rhay nodded slowly. "Yeah, at first, it was. Felt like I couldn't breathe. But... I'm good now. You can see that, right?"
June's expression softened, but his eyes still held a guarded skepticism. He sat on the edge of his bed, leaning forward. "I believe you," he said, his voice low. "The first part, anyway." He paused, letting the silence hang between them. "But 'good' is a big word. You're not the type to just... magically heal from something like that. So tell me, what changed? Was it... Vye?"
Rhay met his gaze, his eyes holding a profound depth. "Yes," he said, the word a quiet admission. A small, self-deprecating laugh escaped him. "She's like an all-cure potion for me."
June didn't laugh. His usual easygoing look was gone, replaced by a deep-set seriousness. He held Rhay's gaze, searching for a truth he couldn't see. "A potion," he repeated, his voice flat. "That's exactly what I'm worried about, man." He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Look, I'm glad you're not hurting. But if you're just using her as a way to get past Claire... that's not cool. She deserves better than to be a quick fix for you."
Rhay, a bit tickled by the shared reaction, sighed. "Wow. You sound just like Fray. She said the same thing this evening, and my answer's the same," he paused, his expression turning more serious. "Look, I know what you're worried about, but you have to trust me. I'm not using her. I'm sincere."
June's shoulders slumped, a sense of weary defeat in his posture. The shared worry with Fray only made his defeat feel heavier, a problem bigger than he'd imagined. His serious expression softened into something more resigned as he crossed his arms. A hint of his old, teasing tone returned to his voice. "Wow, you're a real hot topic, huh?"
He paused, his gaze growing serious again. "Look, I'll take your word for it. You're my best friend, and I've never seen you this... happy." The word felt foreign in his mouth. "But if she's not a 'quick fix,' then what is she? What's going on with you two, really? Because it's only been two days, and you're already..." He gestured vaguely between them, leaving the thought unfinished.
Rhay smiled meaningfully. "I know this sounds crazy, but I felt an instant connection with her. There's a pull... a feeling that just made it easy to let go of everything else and be ready to commit to her."
June watched Rhay's smile, a complex mix of emotions crossing his face. He didn't fully grasp the words—the "pull" or "connection" Rhay was talking about. Yet, he saw the sincerity in his friend's eyes. It wasn't the guarded, heartbreaking sadness he'd seen before. This was genuine, a new kind of peace.
He gave a small, resigned shrug. "Well," he said, the word a quiet acceptance. "I don't get it. But... if you're happy, then I'm happy for you." He clapped a hand on Rhay's shoulder, a final gesture of reassurance. "Just... don't mess it up, man."
"I won't, promise." Rhay said eagerly.
June watched him, a slow, genuine smile spreading across his face. "Good," he said, his voice softer now. "That's all I needed to hear." He gave Rhay's shoulder one last squeeze before releasing him. "Now get some sleep, man. We still have tomorrow's little adventure in the school complex."
The finality in June's voice brought a quiet relief. Rhay gave a short, genuine laugh, a sound of pure contentment that felt foreign even to his own ears. He watched his best friend climb into his bed and settle in for the night. The easy silence of the room, punctuated only by the soft sounds of other students, was a familiar comfort. He needed a moment to himself, a moment to fully process the day's chaotic beauty.
He finally set the notebook on the side under his bed. He lay back and closed his eyes, the image of Vye's calm, understanding face a perfect balm to his restless mind. This new life, this new path with Vye, was both wonderful and terrifying. He was no longer a man on a mission; he was an active participant in a living story he had to fight for. The path ahead felt less like a carefully drawn map and more like a dense, unexplored forest.
But he had Vye with him.
The thought alone was a quiet, profound certainty. He understood now what Kay's message had truly meant: Don't get lost in the past. Stay present in the moment. He couldn't. He wouldn't. He had Vye, and he wouldn't let her, or himself, fade into the background.