One thing about people born with nothing: they always want to prove themselves.
Iyana Marisse Jiran had nothing.
Except her beauty.
And even that didn't matter—because she came from a forgotten province in the farthest south. A place where miracles failed, and heroes never dared to step foot.
But she was smart.
Too smart.
She had clawed her way into Mizuri University, aced the entrance exam, and topped the Material Science Engineering Department.
Still, it wasn't enough.
Talent wasn't enough. Hard work couldn't protect her. Even her pretty face became another reason to doubt her.
So when she looked at her phone, her lips only curved in a faint, bitter smile.
The announcement was out. Ten students had been granted funding for their research.
Her name wasn't there.
Not one rejection.
Not two.
Not three.
Ten.
Or maybe not rejection at all. Maybe her work hadn't even been read.
At least it didn't hurt as much this time.
"Your research was better," her roommate, Solen, muttered beside her. "Self-healing material that could withstand disasters? That's way more useful."
They sat under an acacia tree, behind the Science and Engineering Department building.
Iyana didn't look up from her screen. "Students submit. Teachers pick. Sponsors fund whoever they want. That's all."
"Tsk." Solen rolled her eyes. "Most of them don't even have science degrees. Just greedy sponsors from the Chamber. Poor us, mere mortals."
The Chamber.
The group of wealthiest families. The ones who funded ambitious projects and decided the future of every top student in Mizuri.
"Those students are well-connected," Solen pressed on. "Iya, you should choose where to go. Write those contracts now."
Iyana's expression didn't change. Every top student faced two options: sell your paper to the sponsors, or go abroad.
"You know what those contracts mean. They own your work, and they own you. Forget it."
"Then what will you do?"
Iyana tossed her phone aside and grabbed a fried potato. If she couldn't get funding, she couldn't graduate. Four years of survival in Mizuri, and this was the wall at the end.
It truly sucked to be poor.
Her phone buzzed. A message from Professor Frias.
Please, come to the office.
"See you later. Prof. Frias wants me."
Solen only nodded as Iyana picked up her bag.
...
The hallway was quiet as she walked. Too quiet. So when a voice called her name, deep and warm, it carried easily. Heads turned. Eyes shifted from her… to the man behind.
She stopped. Blank face.
Lyron Matthias Gosuico.
Of course.
Plaid shirt. Denim pants. A silver watch worth more than a building. His hair, deliberately messy, only softened the sharp lines of his face. Girls nearby looked smug when his smile lit up, unguarded, as he called her name again.
He jogged to catch up.
She shook her head and kept walking. He matched her steps.
"I saw that," she muttered.
He laughed. "Why are you in such a hurry?"
"Prof. Frias."
"I read the announcement."
"Never mind."
"You won't graduate like this," he said. "I can help."
She smirked. "Help me by not calling my name in front of your fangirls."
"That's not me," he chuckled. "It's your face."
"Or yours."
"They're fools," he muttered.
"My paper's too theoretical. Too ambitious. I forgot ambition needs funding."
"I said I can help."
"I'm not selling a kidney."
He burst out laughing. "Stubborn. You've tutored me for years, Iya. Let me repay you. I have money. Plenty of it."
Her lips curved. "Oh?"
But then he stopped walking, scratching his head.
"I'll head to the music club," he said.
Her lips straightened. "Have you told your family about shifting to music?"
"Tried." His smile was thin. His shrug even thinner.
Then he waved. "Anyway. Think about it, okay?"
She watched his tall back retreat, his hand raking through his hair. Girls giggled as he passed, the sound trailing after him.
Lyron Matthias.
Her first friend in Mizuri. He sat beside her for a semester in their first year. Popular, pressured, not spoiled. The only one who understood her silence.
She, always at the bottom.
He, trapped on top.
In another world, maybe they would've been more.
But she carried too many other worlds already.
So she turned away.
And never looked back.
*