Wednesday – Late Afternoon
The bell rang.
Class 1-A buzzed with energy, noise, movement.
I didn't move.
I sat in my seat for a while after everyone left. Watching dust float in the afternoon light.
The note was still folded in my pocket.
Everyone watches you. But no one sees you. I do.
I knew who left it.
Didn't need a name.
Didn't need proof.
Only one person in this entire school spoke like that.
Five Minutes Later – Rooftop Access
The door creaked.
I stepped into the sunlight, blinking as wind rushed past me, tugging at my hair, my blazer.
The rooftop was empty.
But only at first glance.
She was there.
Yuki Dawson—leaning against the railing, arms folded, her pale hair dancing around her like a ghost's veil.
Silent. Still.
Watching the sky like it owed her answers.
She didn't look at me when I walked closer.
Didn't greet me.
Didn't smile.
Just spoke.
"You're late."
"I had to think."
She turned her head slowly, eyes meeting mine—icy blue, sharper than they had any right to be.
"Most people don't."
The Conversation Begins
I stood beside her, close but not touching.
The view from up here made everything look smaller. Cleaner.
"The whole school's buzzing," I said.
"Like bees around sugar," she murmured.
"You think I asked for that?"
She didn't answer right away.
Instead, she pulled something from her sleeve—a folded paper. Another note?
No. A drawing.
It was me.
Surrounded by faceless people.
Each one with eyes. No mouths.
Watching.
Reaching.
Floating toward me like gravity had shifted.
"I drew this the second week of school," she said.
I stared.
"I thought it was just instinct," she continued. "But then… everything started proving it right."
Jay Tries to Understand
"You think I'm… what? A black hole?"
She tilted her head slightly. "No. A sun."
I blinked. "That's better?"
"Not always," she said. "Stars bring warmth. Light. But they also burn. And people forget—anything that close, that bright…"
She met my gaze.
"...can't help but cast shadows."
The silence between us pressed in.
So, I asked the question I'd wanted to ask for weeks.
"Why are you always watching?"
She looked back toward the sky.
"I wasn't supposed to care."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the best one I have."
Emotion Slips Through the Ice
"I came to St. Ivy to stay hidden," she said softly. "Observe. Gather. Not… get involved."
"You're not just observing anymore."
"No," she admitted.
"And that scares you?"
She turned to me.
For the first time—her expression cracked.
Just slightly.
"I don't like things I can't calculate."
"You're saying I'm unpredictable?"
"I'm saying…" She took a slow breath, eyes narrowing. "I don't know what I'm becoming when I'm near you."
I couldn't move.
Didn't dare.
Her voice dropped lower. Almost fragile.
"And I hate it."
The Shift – Tension Pulls Tight
The wind grew louder.
My hand rested on the railing beside hers.
Not touching.
But close.
"I don't know who you really are," she whispered.
"I don't know who I really am," I replied.
Yuki looked at me sharply then.
And for the first time since school started—
She smiled.
It wasn't wide.
It wasn't soft.
It was small. Crooked. Private.
"You're dangerous," she said again.
"You keep saying that."
"It keeps being true."
A New Beginning
She stepped away, tucking the drawing back into her pocket.
Then paused.
"Do you want to know who I really am?"
"Yes."
She turned.
"You'll regret that."
"I'll take my chances."
She tilted her head. "Then follow me."
And just like that…
She walked toward the stairs.
And I followed.