Standing at the academy's gates students waiting for them to open wearing their new uniform as first years excited. New people new names though in Luneth's eyes it was a fresh crowd of people who would not hesitate to betray him. Luneth Vale walked through the grand gates, his shoulders hunched, his gaze sweeping over the bustling crowd. To anyone else, he was just a student in the standard uniform, but his appearance betrayed him. The stark contrast of his jet-black hair and the vivid, unnatural streaks of bright blue made him impossible to truly ignore, just as the long, tattered black coat with a high collar was a statement of defiance against the world. He was a shadow, a whisper, an anomaly in a sea of normalcy.
Luneth had learned long ago in order to survive and be peaceful at the same time it was better to stay invisible. Luneth preferred to fade away in the background like he was never there. He believed it was the best way to avoid being crushed and betrayed by others and would help him avoid any pain. Page School (a school you attend from age 6-12) had taught him that innocence was no defense against a lie. Middle School (attended during age 12-15) taught him that even a good deed could be twisted into a malicious act for the sake of social standing. His mother no different either.
He kept his head down, navigating the crowd of excited students, when a frantic shape suddenly careened into him. Papers flew, and a small, startled shriek escaped the person's lips.
"Oh, I am so, so sorry!" a voice exclaimed.
Luneth didn't respond. Didn't care to look who he bumped into helped the person collect their papers and started walking away. As he did he heard a gasp.
"Luneth? Is that really you?"
He slowly raised his head, his cold, blue but dead eyes meeting a pair of familiar brown ones. It was her. Elara Elwins. Her hair was a bit longer, her face more mature, but the look of desperate hope in her eyes was exactly the same. The same desperate hope he had foolishly held onto for so long. Elara had now become a rather popular figure having a lot of admirers.
"Hey! It's been a while, Luneth," she said, her voice a little too loud, a little too cheerful. "How are you?"
Luneth did not bother responding. He knew if he did betrayal is what would be knocking at his doorstep.
The smile on Elara's face faltered. "Hey! That's rude. Come on, you don't act like that with your childhood friend, do you?"
The question hung in the air, a cruel joke. He let out a dry, humorless laugh.
"Friend?" The single word was a venomous whisper, dripping with a bitterness that had been a decade in the making. He took a step closer, his eyes boring into hers. "You think you can just come back and call me that? After all this time? Don't you get to pretend like we ever were."
Elara's face crumpled, her composure cracking. "I know, I know! I was a coward! I was scared of what they would do to me. I thought you would understand, but I was wrong. I'm so, so sorry, Luneth. Please, let me make it up to you. I'm begging you to forgive me."
Her voice was raw with genuine pain, but Luneth was unmoved. He had seen this act before.
"Forgive you?" he repeated, his voice chillingly calm. "I don't even know you anymore." He turned his back on her, resuming his path as if she were never there. "Just leave me alone."
He didn't need to look back to know that she was still standing there, frozen and heartbroken. It was exactly what he expected.
Flashback to what really happened: Luneth had been standing beside Elara ]when she fell—not close enough to catch her, not far enough to escape blame. It happened in the gym: Elara's showy balance-beam stunt, a slip, the sickening crack of her wrist against the mat. Luneth hadn't pushed her, hadn't even laughed—just stood there, phone in hand, frozen in that half-second before disaster. But the star quarterback, Cade, muttered, "He was right there," and the whispers began. Elara, wrapped in sympathy and floral get-well balloons, never corrected them. Why would she? The truth wouldn't unbreak her wrist, but it might ruin the way teachers softened her work, the way her crush lingered at her hospital bed. So Luneth became "the cruel kid"—eyed in hallways, excluded at lunch, his name a hissed joke. By spring, he transferred schools. Years later, at the reunion, someone slurred, "Remember when Vale broke Elwins' arm?" and Elara opened her mouth—"He didn't—"—but the bass throbbed, the moment passed, and no one heard. One truth Elara burried to maintain her place in the social ladder destroyed the remaining four years of Luneth's Page School.