THE GIRL THEY TRIED TO BURY
College had always hated me.
Not openly. Not boldly. It did it the way venomous things do quietly, patiently, smiling while sinking its teeth into your flesh.
I knew this place. The wide marble walkways, the glass lecture halls, the manicured lawns designed to scream prestige. In my previous life, I had walked these grounds with my head lowered, moving like someone who belonged but was never welcomed.
I still remembered the stares.
The whispers.
The laughter that followed too closely to be coincidence.
And yet…
As the black car rolled to a stop at the front gate that morning, I knew something had shifted.
The past did not own me anymore.
The driver rushed to open my door. I stepped out slowly not dramatically, not hurriedly allowing the morning sun to trace my silhouette like a deliberate announcement.
No more hoodie and jeans
No need to blend in with lowered gaze
I wore high-waisted tailored trousers in cream, a silk blouse the color of storm clouds, sleeves rolled just enough to show confidence without arrogance. My heels clicked softly against the pavement. Hair loose, glossy, intentional. Makeup minimal, sharp where it needed to be.
Cute.
Elegant.
Dangerously composed.
Conversations faltered.
Phones lowered.
Heads turned.
The same students who once pretended I didn't exist now stared openly, confusion skittering across their faces.
"Wait… is that—?"
"No way."
"She looks—"
" I thought they said she was scared"
"She is even more beautiful than Sara "
I didn't slow down. I didn't acknowledge them.
Let them look.
Let them choke on it.
The rumors greeted me before I reached the first lecture hall.
I felt them like pressure changes in the air the way voices dropped when I passed, the way laughter died too quickly to be natural.
"She thinks she's better than everyone."
"I heard she slept her way into the honors program."
"Rich trash with nothing but money."
I stopped walking.
Slowly… deliberately… I turned my head.
Three girls stood near the vending machines, frozen. Their eyes widened not because I looked angry, but because I looked calm.
"Say it again," I said softly.
One of them scoffed, clearly encouraged by numbers. "What? Truth hurts?"
I stepped closer. One heel. Then another.
"I don't recognize you," I continued, voice even. "So tell me where exactly did you hear that from?"
Silence.
The second girl shifted, nervous from my sharp gaze "It's just… what people say."
"People," I repeated. "Or someone specific?"
They exchanged glances.
That was when it clicked not fully, but enough to spark suspicion.
Someone had planted these lies. Carefully. Strategically. Not overnight.
And whoever it was knew me.
"Hey! Kira!"
Sara's voice floated toward me, light and cheerful.
I turned.
She jogged over, all bright smiles and soft eyes, dressed simply, modestly, blending into safety. The perfect contrast to me. The perfect mask.
"There you are! I was looking everywhere for you," she said, slipping easily into my space.
She hadn't changed that much. Same sweetness. Same harmlessness.
Same talent for disappearing when things got ugly.
"I messaged you yesterday," I said calmly. "You didn't reply my messages."
Her expression faltered, just a fraction before she masked it like it was never there.
"I was overwhelmed," she replied quickly. "New semester, new schedules… you know how it is. I figured you'd understand."
In my past life, I had.
In this life… I filed the detail away.
"It's fine," I said softly. Too softly.
She blinked, clearly expecting warmth, and finding distance instead.
"Oh! By the way," she added brightly, lowering her voice, "people are saying some strange things about you again. Don't worry, I shut them down whenever I hear them."
Again.
The word echoed.
I smiled.
"Again?" I asked lightly. "So this has been happening for a while?"
Sara laughed nervously. "You know how jealous people are of you."
I looked at her then. Really looked.
Still sweet.
Still harmless.
Still standing in the center of the storm pretending she wasn't the wind.
By noon, the traps had been set.
I knew that instinctively.
It started small chairs moved, whispers amplified, deliberate isolation. Then someone bumped into me too hard in the corridor. Apologies that rang hollow and fake flowed.
I kept walking.
Then, halfway through the afternoon break, a girl bumped me again.
"This way," she said curtly, nodding toward the restroom. "You've got something on your shirt."
I followed.
Big mistake for them, I thought with a smirk
The restroom door slammed shut behind me.
Locked.
Laughter erupted.
"You really thought we'd let you walk around like you own the place?"
Four of them. All taller than me. All smug.
I rolled my shoulders once.
Years of muscle memory activated instantly.
The Miles family didn't raise heirs to be fragile.
From age nine, I had been trained not for decoration, but for survival. Combat conditioning. Strength training. Endurance drills. Not loud. Not flashy but Effective.
By fifteen, I had entered the Sanda Championship.
By sixteen, I had won.
They never knew that part of me.
The first girl lunged.
I pivoted.
Her wrist snapped sideways, clean, efficient. She screamed.
The second tried to grab my hair.
Bad move.
I drove my elbow into her ribs, felt the crack vibrate up my arm. She dropped.
The third hesitated.
I didn't.
A knee. A sweep. A hard impact against the tiles.
The fourth tried to run.
I slammed her into the sink and leaned down, voice ice-cold.
"Tell me," I said quietly, "who told you to do this."
Trembling.
"S-Sara," she sobbed. "She said you needed to be humbled."
There it was.
Not suspicion.
Confirmation.
I stepped back.
Fixed my blouse.
Unlocked the door.
And walked out leaving the chaos behind me
Sara found me an hour later.
"Kira!" she gasped, eyes wide with fake concern. "I heard something happened, are you okay? People are saying you hurt someone!"
I studied her face.
Perfect panic.
Perfect innocence.
Green tea. Pure and sweet on the surface bitter underneath.
"I'm fine," I replied. "But I heard something interesting today."
Her breath hitched.
"That the rumors… came from you."
Silence.
Then shock.
"Kira, what? No! Who would say that?" Tears welled instantly. "I've only ever defended you!"
I stared at her.
Long enough to make her squirm.
Then… I smiled.
"I believe you," I said.
Her shoulders sagged in relief.
And I thought she is now wise , Sara thought to herself
Behind the smile, my rage stayed quiet. Controlled. Sharp.
This time… I would destroy her properly.
Slowly.
College still hated me.
But now…
They were afraid.
And fear was power.
By the next morning, the college was tense.
Not loud.
Not chaotic.
But strained like a string pulled too tight, vibrating at the slightest touch.
I felt it the moment I stepped onto campus.
People whispered less today.
They watched instead.
The four girls who had cornered me were absent. One rumor claimed two were hospitalized. Another claimed a parent had threatened the school. A third insisted the incident never happened at all.
Administration silence was deliberate.
The Miles name had weight.
And fear had memory.
I walked through the gates just as composed as before, expression calm, posture relaxed. No triumph. No challenge. That would be sloppy.
Those who survived battles didn't announce them.
They adjusted.
In the lecture hall, seats subtly shifted away from me. A wide circle of space formed without anyone acknowledging it. No insults today. No snide laughter.
Only caution and evident fear
A professor paused briefly when he saw me just long enough to register curiosity then continued his lecture as though nothing had changed.
The smartest ones did that.
Across the aisle, I caught a glimpse of Sara.
She looked tired.
Not physically emotionally. Her smile was still there, still gentle, still easy to mistake for sincerity. But the effort behind it was heavier now.
She approached me after class.
"Kira," she said softly, walking beside me like always. "You left so suddenly yesterday. I was worried."
"I had things to deal with," I replied calmly.
"Oh." She hesitated. "People are… talking."
I stopped walking.
Sara stopped too.
"Talking about what?" I asked mildly.
She lowered her voice. "They're saying some girls provoked you. That things got out of hand."
I tilted my head slightly. "Do you believe them?"
She looked startled as if she hadn't expected the question.
"I… I believe you wouldn't hurt someone without reason," she said carefully.
A good answer.
Too careful.
"That's reassuring," I said. Then I smiled faintly and continued walking.
Sara stayed rooted in place for a second too long.
By lunchtime, the social temperature had dropped further.
No open hostility but something worse: re-evaluation.
People were reassessing old assumptions. Revisiting rumors they'd accepted too easily. Watching how others interacted with me before deciding how they should.
That was how power spread.
Quietly.
In the administration building, meetings were taking place behind closed doors. Emails sent. Parents called. Records sealed.
The incident would be buried.
But memory wouldn't.
That afternoon, a message circulated discreetly through certain networks unofficial, untraceable.
A short report.
Female. Seventeen. Miles family. Physically trained. Controlled response. No unnecessary damage.
It landed on a desk miles away from campus.
A black marble desk.
The message was read once.
Then deleted.
Back at college, Sara watched from a distance as people avoided confrontation with me. As conversations hushed when I passed. As an invisible boundary formed around me.
This wasn't what she'd planned.
She'd wanted embarrassment. Isolation. Fear.
Not respect.
She approached again later, during a quiet moment beneath a row of ginkgo trees.
"Kira," she said gently, "maybe you should lie low for a bit. People are sensitive right now."
I looked at her.
Really looked.
"You're right," I said pleasantly. "I'll be careful."
Relief flashed across her face.
She never noticed the way my fingers curled slightly at my side.
That evening, as the sun dipped low and shadows stretched across campus, I realized something important:
College hadn't stopped hating me.
But now…
It was afraid of provoking me.
And somewhere far above the city behind glass, steel, and silence someone else had noticed the subtle shift too
The game hadn't started yet.
But the board was officially set.