Nezo High sat at the edge of town, pressed between an ancient pine forest and the gray ripple of the river Ouden. The school was old its walls thick with memory, its windows narrow like watchful eyes and Students jokes of it's secret smell
Nezo itself having its whispers. Of town once a place of power, of legends and monsters and hidden wars. But now, those were just stories. Right?
To Gordon, none of it mattered.
His world was a quiet one textbooks, headphones, and empty table. He liked it that way. People talked too much. Or worse,they noticed too much. Gordon didn't want to be noticed. Not after what happened a year ago. Not after the stairs.
Today, though, hiding wasn't working out so well.
He sat under the old willow tree behind the cafeteria, sketching absently in his notebook. He wasn't an artist, not really, but drawing helped him think. His fingers moved on their own,shading shadows, scrawling symbols, sketching creatures he didn't recognize. Beasts with wings. Eyes like stars. Mouths full of smoke.
They came to him in dreams.
He was halfway through detailing a jagged set of wings when the paper was ripped from under his hand.
"Still drawing freak stuff, Gordon?" sneered Timon, the tallest and dumbest of Nezo High's resident bullies.
Gordon stood slowly. Not because he was brave, but because staying seated made him look smaller. And weakness was bait.
"I asked you a question," Timon said, crumpling the page. "Are you deaf or just weird?"
Gordon's jaw tensed. Still, he didn't speak.
"Leave him alone, Timon," came a voice behind them, Familiar, Calm and Dangerous.
Angela.
"You again?" Timon scoffed.
She stepped between them like thunder in human form. Her long braid swung behind her like a lion's tail, and her slim figure didn't stop the room from freezing when she narrowed her eyes. Angela with her deceiving appearance people had learned the hard way.
"You really like bothering quiet people, don't you?" she asked, with sharp tone
Timon rolled his eyes. "He's a freak, Angie. Always scribbling in that creepy notebook."
Angela crossed her arms. "Yeah? Well, at least he can spell notebook. Now move before I move you."
There was a stillness then. A flicker of heat in the air, like the school itself was holding its breath.
Timon hesitated.
Angela didn't raise her voice. She didn't have to.
She had the blood. You could see it in how she stood like a fighter
Finally, Timon scoffed again and backed off, muttering, "Crazy girls…"
Angela watched him go, then turned back to Gordon. Her expression softened.
"You okay?"
Gordon blinked. "You… called me weird too."
She shrugged. "Yeah, but I don't crumple your art."
A beat passed. "You've got talent."
He looked down at the wrinkled paper in Timon's fist. "It's just drawings."
"It's something," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Better than hiding in your shell all day."
Gordon didn't know what to say to that. She always made him feel like his words weren't enough.
"Come on," she added, nudging his shoulder gently. "Lunch is over. We've got Chem."
They walked side by side down the breezeway. Students parted for Angela like she wore a crown only the wise could see. Gordon felt every eye on him, every whisper but with Angela next to him, it didn't sting. Not as much.
---
Chemistry class passed in a haze. Mr. Van Doorn droned on about exothermic reactions while the Bunsen burner crackled blue-orange flames between them.
Gordon wasn't listening.
He stared into the fire, mesmerized. The colors reminded him of something… a dream? A memory? Someone he'd forgotten? The image refused to settle, slipping through his thoughts like water through cupped hands.
Beside him, Angela chewed her pen and slouched low in her chair,bored out of her skull.
Gordon glanced at his notebook. Without thinking, his pencil moved.
Not shadows this time.
Her.
He drew her face in quiet strokes,sharp cheekbones, soft eyes, the braid like a streak of wildfire down her shoulder. He was halfway through shading her lips when he felt her lean closer.
"Are you… are you drawing me?"
He froze.
Angela raised a brow. "That's either creepy or kind of sweet. Depends how I look."
He passed the page to her, silent.
She blinked… and then, to his shock, blushed.
"This is… actually really good."
Gordon scratched his neck, awkward. "Sorry. I just… didn't know I was doing it."
Angela stared at him for a long moment. Something unreadable flickered in her eyes—then softened.
"You're not as invisible as you think, you know."
Chem bores me
---
After class, Gordon was headed to his locker when a voice rang down the hall:
"Yo! Gordon!"
Sam.
His only friend.
Average, skinny, loud. Wild curly hair and an even wilder imagination. His hoodie was two sizes too big, and a comic book stuck out of his back pocket like it lived there.
"Dude," Sam said, sliding up beside him, "you've got to stop attracting drama. First Timon, now Angela? That girl's got fire in her blood."
Gordon smirked. "She helped me out again."
Sam nudged him. "Bro, at this rate, she's gonna adopt you. Change your last name and everything."
Gordon laughed but it sounded a little too tight. "Funny."
Sam shrugged. "Not like that'd be a bad thing. At least she's got a family. We've got, what, two introverts and a cafeteria that serves rubber chicken?"
No .''on one introvert
They both chuckled and pushed through the side doors into the late afternoon haze.
Unnoticed behind them, a raven perched on the classroom windowsill. Its feathers s
himmered with oil-slick darkness. Its eyes glowed for a split second Red.
Then black again,It blinked once
And vanished.