The sun was setting over the academy, casting a warm golden glow across the pristine stone paths and gleaming windows of Saint Halstead Academy. I strolled along, hands tucked into my pockets, wandering the school in search of something—though I wasn't quite sure what.
I wasn't aiming for any specific destination; I just needed to walk and let my thoughts flow freely.
As I rounded a corner near the south wing, I accidentally brushed shoulders with someone.
"Ack—!" a soft voice exclaimed.
A flurry of papers took flight, scattering like startled birds. Instinctively, I reached out and managed to catch one before it hit the ground, while the rest drifted down onto the marble floor.
I quickly crouched down to gather the papers. "I'm really sorry. I wasn't paying attention," he said, his tone calm and steady.
The girl beside him knelt down, clearly a bit flustered. "No, it's my fault. I should've been more careful. Thank you..."
Then I looked up.
She had soft, pale-blonde hair that curled gently at the ends, framing her delicate features. Her hazel eyes were warm yet seemed to carry a hint of weariness. There was something restrained in her expression—not shy or nervous, but cautious, like someone who had learned to tread carefully.
"Are you okay?" I asked, handing her the last sheet of paper.
She nodded quickly. "Yes, just a little startled, that's all. Thanks for your help."
As she stood up, adjusting the files in her arms, then my keen eyes caught something most would overlook just for a moment, beneath the sleeve of her school blazer, near her wrist, a faint discoloration peeked out. A bruise.
I didn't show it on the outside, but the thought stuck with me. It was subtle, carefully tucked away—definitely not a coincidence.
"I can help you carry those if you're delivering them," I said, trying to sound casual.
She blinked in surprise. "You don't have to—"
"I know," I replied, already reaching for half the stack she was holding. "Where to?"
The girl paused for a moment, then let out a soft sigh. "Administration building. Top floor. Room 4-C."
We started walking side by side, her steps light yet deliberate, as if she was always aware of the space she occupied. The path was peaceful; most students were either busy with clubs or heading back to their dorms.
"You're… new here, aren't you?" she asked, breaking the silence.
"Sort of," I replied. "I tend to blend in."
She chuckled softly. "Yeah, I guess I do too. I usually hang out in the background, working in the student records department. It's pretty dull, to be honest."
I nodded slightly. "Better to fly under the radar than to be noticed for the wrong reasons."
"True," she said, her gaze dropping for a moment. Then she looked back at me.
"I'm Ellie, by the way. Ellie Reid."
"…Sylvester Blackthorne."
"Blackthorne?" she raised an eyebrow. "That sounds pretty fancy."
I let out a quiet breath that could've been a laugh. "Not really."
Ellie smiled. "Still, I appreciate your help. Not many people go out of their way like that."
I shrugged. "You seemed like you could use it."
The conversation flowed easily, without any pressure. Yet, in those brief moments where we shared the burden of the reports, matched our steps, and soaked in the warmth of the setting sun, an unexpected understanding began to take shape. We didn't exchange any profound words, but something definitely changed.
When we finally arrived at the administration office, we got into the room pretty quickly. I thought we'd need to knock first, but she had a key, which was a nice surprise.
"Okay, that has to be all of them, right?" I asked Ellie.
"Yes, it seems so. Thank you so much for your help."
"Like I said, it's no trouble at all."
"You know, I have a question?"
"What's on your mind?"
"While we were walking to the administration office and going up the stairs... I was really struggling with the weight of the files, but you didn't even seem to notice. You even took my pile so I could make it up the stairs."
I blinked, caught off guard that she noticed. My mind raced through a dozen excuses in an instant. I couldn't afford to slip up—not here, not with her.
I shrugged lightly, keeping my tone casual, as if it didn't matter much.
"I used to haul stacks of books up the stairs all the time at my old school," I replied. "They never gave us lockers—just back-to-back classes with full textbooks. Eventually, your arms just get used to it."
I let out a soft laugh. "I guess the habit stuck."
She smiled faintly, her gaze still on me, but the suspicion had softened into something more like curiosity.
That was a close call.
She's observant—maybe too observant. Most people wouldn't even think to question it, let alone remember something as specific as how I managed the stairs.
I'll need to be more cautious around her.
But at the same time, part of me… didn't mind.
The corner of my mouth lifted as I looked ahead.
"Why? Are you planning to make me your official file carrier from now on?" I asked, trying to shift the conversation to safer ground.
She rolled her eyes, but I caught a hint of a smirk.
"Maybe. You seem suspiciously good at it."
I couldn't help but chuckle as I strolled ahead, the sunlight streaming through the hallway windows.
Even in moments like this, I knew I had to stay alert.
Not entirely, anyway.
The sun was starting to dip low in the sky, spilling warm golden light over the academy grounds. The courtyard had settled into a peaceful hush after classes wrapped up, with most students scattering off to clubs, their dorms, or the library.
Only a handful remained, their distant chatter blending into a soft murmur beneath the rustling leaves.
Both me and Ellie strolled along the stone path when Ellie suddenly slowed down.
"Do you mind if we take a quick break?" she asked, her voice casual, though I could hear a slight hitch in her breath.
I shot her a glance. She was trying to act nonchalant, but I had caught her shifting her shoulder in discomfort more than once on our walk back from the admin office.
Earlier, she had masked a grimace when she bent down to tie her shoelace. Now, as she approached the stone bench tucked under a tree, her fingers pressed lightly against her side, as if checking for pain.
I shrugged lightly. "Sure."
We settled onto the bench. The cool stone felt refreshing against the backs of our legs, and the scent of summer grass hung thick in the air. A gentle breeze played with our uniforms.
For a moment, silence enveloped us.
Ellie fiddled with her cardigan sleeve, her movements a bit too rehearsed. I noticed how she didn't lean back fully against the bench, maintaining an upright posture even when it would have been easier to relax.
"She's guarding something. A shoulder? A rib? Or maybe... bruises she doesn't want anyone to see."
I didn't hit the button.
Instead, I broke the silence with a light comment. "So… have you always enjoyed dashing across campus with your arms loaded with paperwork?"
Ellie let out a soft laugh, a bit too airy. "Only since today. It's my new cardio workout."
That earned a genuine smirk from me. "You had me fooled."
Another silence settled in, this one thick with unspoken words. Ellie gazed out over the courtyard, her hands neatly folded in her lap. Her fingers fidgeted a bit, tugging at the edge of her sleeve.
"Do you read much?" she asked, trying to guide the conversation to safer ground.
I leaned back, crossing my arms. "Mostly novels. Classified stuff. But if I can, I like to pick up random books with no clear origin."
"You're kidding."
"Only about the classified part."
She smiled again. It was polite, almost rehearsed. Like she knew the expectations and how to meet them. But the warmth didn't quite reach her eyes.
I tilted my head slightly, studying her. "You're definitely a literature person, aren't you?"
Ellie nodded, a hint of a smile on her face. "Guilty as charged. I mostly stick to the classics, but I dabble in poetry sometimes."
I gave her an approving nod. "That explains the slightly melancholic vibe you give off."
She blinked, a bit surprised. "Do I really come off that way?"
"Just a tad," I replied. "But don't sweat it. It actually suits you."
A faint blush crept onto her cheeks as she looked away.
Not far down the path, a group of students strolled by, their laughter ringing out as they playfully nudged one another. Their chatter was just loud enough to shatter the quiet around us.
I turned my head to catch a glimpse of them, but I noticed Ellie's entire demeanor shift.
Her shoulders tightened.
Her hands gripped each other a bit more firmly in her lap.
And most telling of all—her gaze dropped to the ground, avoiding any chance of meeting theirs.
I couldn't help but watch her. It sparked my curiosity.
"Flinch. Tension. Avoidance. It's not fear of strangers... it's recognition. She knows them. And she doesn't want them to see her."
I stayed silent.
As the group rounded a corner, Ellie seemed to relax just a fraction. She didn't mention them at all. Instead, she lifted her eyes to the sky and said, "It's a lovely day. So peaceful."
After a moment, I replied, "It is. Though peace tends to be a fleeting visitor around here."
Ellie paused for a second, then softly said, "...I guess that's true."
Her voice had taken on a gentler tone, almost fragile. It felt like something inside her had cracked open, just a bit.
I looked at her again, and it became clearer. The way her smile lingered on her lips but didn't quite reach her eyes. The careful way she chose her words—not out of courtesy, but as a shield.
"That kind of smile… I recognize it. I've seen it reflected in my own past. People wear smiles like that when they're trying to endure something hidden from everyone else. She doesn't want help—she wants to remain unseen. Just like I do."
"But even shadows leave their mark. And I can't shake the feeling that hers is darker than she lets on."
We lingered in silence for a bit longer
"I just… in case I get assigned another admin errand. I'd rather not carry it all alone again," she said, letting out a soft chuckle.
I could sense there was more to it than she was letting on.
But I nodded and pulled out my phone, and we exchanged numbers.
Her thumb lingered over the screen a moment longer than needed. When she finally typed her name into the contact field, there was a hint of uncertainty in her expression, as if this small connection carried more weight than it should.
I made a mental note of that.
"Thanks," she said, glancing up at him. "Really. I... don't usually talk to people much."
"Maybe you should," he suggested. "You might be surprised by some of them."
Her gaze lingered on me for a moment.
Then she stood up, smoothing down her skirt. "I should get to class. I've already missed too much."
"Want me to walk you there?"
She hesitated, clearly torn, but then smiled and shook her head. "No. But thank you."
She started down the path on her own.
Halfway there, she paused.
Turned.
And looked back at me.
Our eyes locked across the distance. No words were exchanged—just a glance that was curious, cautious, grateful... maybe even a little hopeful.
Then she turned and melted into the slow-moving crowd of students.
I stayed put.
"Huh, that was interesting."