Kai didn't stay after school, but he didn't go home either.
Instead, he walked toward the empty side of the campus, where an old storage building sat half-abandoned. The wind carried a faint metal scent—something that didn't belong in a school environment. His senses sharpened. Someone had been here recently.
He stopped walking.
There it was again.
Footsteps. Soft. Careful. Trying not to be heard.
Kai pretended to tie his shoelace, lowering his body so he could catch a reflection on the dusty window ahead. Just enough to confirm what he suspected:
Someone was following him.
Not a student.
Not a teacher.
Someone who moved like they'd been trained.
Kai stood up slowly and continued walking, hands relaxed, backpack strap across one shoulder. Anyone watching would think he was completely unaware.
But he was measuring distance.
Timing.
Lines of attack.
The footsteps behind him stopped.
Then—
A faint click.
He spun instantly.
A metallic object skimmed past his cheek and embedded into the wall behind him. A thrown metal pin—sharp enough to pierce wood. Kai didn't flinch.
From behind the trees, a figure stepped out quietly.
The same boy he had seen on the first day.
The same too-perfect, too-calm smile on his face.
"Transfer student," the boy said softly, his tone almost polite. "You're difficult to read. I don't like that."
Kai didn't respond. Words were useless in moments like this.
The boy flicked another small silver pin between his fingers. "You've been pretending to be normal. But today? You slipped."
Kai's eyes narrowed. "I don't know what you're talking about."
The boy laughed quietly. "You're lying. And badly."
He moved forward—slow, confident, unhurried. Not the walk of a schoolboy. The walk of someone used to confrontation.
Kai adjusted his stance just a little, barely noticeable. Balanced. Ready.
The boy's expression sharpened.
He noticed.
"I knew it," he whispered. "You're not ordinary."
Then the boy attacked.
Fast.
He launched the silver pin at Kai's face with a snap of his wrist—faster than before. Kai ducked and stepped aside, catching the boy's arm mid-movement, twisting it just enough to break his attack rhythm.
The boy pulled back smoothly, unfazed.
"You've had training," he said. "Good. This will be interesting."
Kai didn't want to fight. Not here. Not now.
He didn't know who might walk by. He didn't know what the boy had seen. And he couldn't risk attention—not if he wanted to keep Lila, Aria, and everyone else safe from his world.
"What do you want?" Kai asked quietly.
The boy smirked. "To know what you are."
A rush of wind swept through the corridor as the boy suddenly closed the distance, a blur of motion. Kai braced—
But something interrupted them.
A sharp whistle echoed across the campus.
Both boys froze.
Aria's voice.
Clear. Calm. Commanding.
"Step away from him."
She walked into view, prefect badge glinting. Her eyes weren't confused or afraid. They were sharp—like she had pieced together far more than she should.
The boy clicked his tongue. "Another one watching him? Interesting."
Aria stepped between them, gaze locked on the boy. "You shouldn't be here. Leave before a teacher sees you."
The boy tilted his head. "And if I don't?"
Aria held his stare without flinching. "Try me."
A strange tension filled the air.
Finally, the boy lowered his hand and slipped the silver pin back into his pocket.
"Fine," he said with a light smile. "This isn't over."
He disappeared into the trees as quietly as he had appeared.
Aria didn't speak until the boy was gone.
Then she turned to Kai, eyes full of something between frustration and worry.
"Kai," she said softly, "you need to start telling the truth."
His heart dropped.
Aria knew too much.
The boy was after him.
And with each day, staying normal was becoming less possible.
Kai exhaled slowly.
This was only the beginning.