Chapter 1
Autumn Berry — POV
If fresh starts had a smell, this one would be a mix of dust, lemon cleaner, and the faint regret of leaving my pillow behind. My suitcase thumped against each stair as I dragged it up to the second floor of Maple Court Dorms—my new "home," as the brochure enthusiastically described it.
A woman with short gray hair and glasses that nearly slid off her nose peeked out of the office door. "Autumn Berry?" she asked, voice warm like she already knew all my secrets and was deciding if she approved.
"Yes. Um—hi," I breathed out, pushing my hair behind my ear even though it just fell forward again.
She smiled. "I'm Aunt Lydia. Welcome! Your mom called three times this morning to remind me to remind you to drink water."
Of course she did.
"I do drink water," I mumbled.
Aunt Lydia gave me the *sure, honey* look. "Room 204. Your key. No boys past 10 p.m., no loud music, and please don't adopt any stray cats like the last tenant. I'm still finding fur in the vents."
I blinked. "Noted. I can barely take care of myself, so… cats are safe."
She chuckled. "Good. Now go settle in. First day of college! Exciting!"
Exciting wasn't the word I'd use. Terrifying, maybe. Hopeful, in a cautious kind of way.
---
My room was small but cozy—bed, desk, shelves, a window overlooking the campus lawn. I sat on the edge of the mattress, letting the quiet settle like a blanket. No whispers. No stares. No halls echoing with rumors I never asked to be part of.
New town, new school, new me.
Or… same me, but maybe this one breathes easier.
I shook myself out of the dramatic moment. It was too early for existential spirals. Coffee was required.
---
The campus café buzzed with the energy of students pretending not to panic about adulthood. I had just taken my first sip—bliss, actual bliss—when a sharp voice cut through the room.
"I told you I didn't steal it!"
Heads turned. Mine included, more out of reflex than curiosity, though… okay, maybe curiosity too.
Near the counter, a girl with round glasses and a bun that screamed *I color-code my life* was scanning a wristwatch with a tiny flashlight. Next to her, a boy was taking pictures of a table. Another guy—tall, too calm to be normal—crossed his arms and watched the frantic student accused of being a theft.
Ah.
I'd stumbled into a real-life discount version of those fictional detective groups I definitely did not binge-watch all summer.
Clipboard Girl spoke suddenly. "Here." She pointed at the watch's strap. "This residue—metal polish. Same kind the café uses on their display shelf. So the watch probably fell there, not stolen."
The accused student's jaw dropped. "So… I'm innocent?"
Clipboard Girl nodded proudly. The tall calm guy gave a tiny approving nod like he trained her.
And just like that, the tension in the café dissolved. People went back to sipping concoctions with names like "Caffeinated Hope" and "Survival Latte."
I lifted my cup again, smirking to myself. Cute little campus mystery club. Good for them.
Then Clipboard Girl's gaze snapped toward me. Directly. Too sharp.
I almost choked.
She smiled—a curious, assessing kind of smile—and then turned away.
Weird.
I inhaled. Exhaled. Definitely not getting involved.
---
Seminar time. The auditorium was packed, and a motivational speaker was enthusiastically talking about "maximizing your potential!" while half the students maximized their potential to fall asleep with their eyes open.
I tried to pay attention. I really did. But then someone's phone loudly played dramatic anime battle music and I nearly snorted my water.
The guy next to me whispered, "First years always panic-watch study motivation videos the night before school."
I whispered back, "Tragic."
We cracked up quietly like two kids sharing secrets behind the teacher's back.
It felt… nice. Normal.
---
Club showcase followed. Tables everywhere. Flyers flying. Chants. Posters.
One group in sleek navy jackets? Yeah, them—the café detectives.
Their banner read: University Investigative Club.
for short UIC
Under it: "We notice what others don't."
Clipboard Girl was behind the table handing out forms like she was recruiting soldiers.
Our eyes met again.
Nope. Absolutely not. I turned away like my life depended on it.
Not joining. Not looking for trouble.
Not dragging secrets out of the shadows again.
Fresh start. Quiet life. Low profile. That's the plan.
…Even if a tiny, traitorous part of me whispered that I *missed* solving puzzles.
That I missed being sharp and seen for it.
I shook it off.
---
Back at the dorm, I collapsed onto my bed, muscles aching and brain buzzing.
Day one, survived.
New place. New faces.
And somewhere across campus… a detective club who apparently solves wristwatch scandals before lunch.
I laughed quietly into my pillow.
"Autumn Berry," I whispered to myself, "you are officially in a campus anime."
But no mysteries. No digging. No being dragged into things.
Right?
…
Right?