After the bus dropped us at school, the first thing my eyes searched for—against my will—was Raven.
He was there, just as always.
Lying across his usual tree branch,his back resting against the thick bark. His eyes were closed, his face calm, unreadable, as though the world beneath him did not exist.
For a brief moment, anger surged through me so fast I almost lost control.
I wanted to strike him.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted answers.
But I forced myself to breathe.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Jan stood beside me for a few seconds, watching my face, sensing the storm building inside me. Without a word, I stepped away from her and walked toward the tree. She hesitated, then finally turned and left, giving me space.
I stopped beneath the tree and looked up.
"Raven," I called, my voice steady despite the chaos inside me.
"Can I have a word with you?"
There was no response.
Not even a flicker of movement.
"Raven," I tried again, gripping my bag strap tightly. "Please. I need to talk to you."
His eyes opened slowly.
Calm. Sharp. Aware.
"The sounds are covered," he said quietly, his voice drifting down to me.
"Go on."
My chest tightened.
"Please," I said. "Can you come down?"
He hesitated.
Just for a few seconds.
Then he moved.
With effortless grace, Raven dropped from the tree, landing softly on the ground in front of me. He straightened, his expression unreadable.
"Is anyone seeing us?" I asked sharply, unable to hide the edge in my voice.
Raven was calm at first , then looked back at me.
"Everywhere is covered."
That was all he said.
I clenched my fists.
"Raven," I began, my voice trembling despite myself. "What happened in January 2024. At exactly 9 p.m."
His gaze sharpened.
"You placed a camera in the security room," I continued, the words spilling out faster now.
"That camera was evidence. Evidence that was supposed to be hidden—never exposed. And yet it was placed where it could be seen."
Raven fell silent.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then slowly, he turned his face toward me.
"Yes," he said at last.
"I remember placing a camera on the table. And the—"
My anger exploded.
For the first time, I felt it clearly.
The waves.
They burned behind my eyes, surged through my veins. My vision shimmered, and heat flared in my palms. Fire—real fire—coiled beneath my skin.
I raised my hands instinctively.
And then—
A violent force slammed into me from the side.
My body was ripped off balance, thrown backward. My head struck the wall hard, and pain burst through my skull as everything went dark.
The last thing I saw before losing consciousness was Raven's shocked face—
Soah stand behind him.
Smiling.
When Raven turned sharply, his breath uneven, Soah stood there as if she had always belonged.
He stared at her, disbelief written across his face.
"No one was supposed to see us," he said slowly.
"No one was supposed to hear us."
Soah tilted her head, amused.
"But I can see you, Raven."
His eyes darkened.
"You can… see me?"
"Of course," she replied lightly, stepping closer. "Why wouldn't I?"
Raven's expression changed—this time not to anger, but something closer to awe.
"This is the first time," he said quietly, "that I'm seeing someone with such overwhelming power."
He studied her carefully.
"Ancient power," he murmured. "Inherited ancient power."
Soah laughed softly.
"No," she said, shaking her head.
"Not inherited."
She smiled wider.
"It's trained."
She turned then—toward me.
I was still unconscious on the ground.
"So harsh," i said gently. "You know, you don't have to be so aggressive."
She crouched slightly, looking at me.
"I know I saved your life," she added lightly. "But this—this is not the thank-you I expected."
She straightened and laughed.
"I'm fine, though," she said casually. "Perfectly fine."
And just like that, she turned and walked away, disappearing without another word.
Raven stood frozen for a moment.
Then he rushed to me.
"Jina," he whispered, kneeling beside me.
He lifted me carefully into his arms, holding me as if I were fragile glass. Without hesitation, he carried me all the way to my room.
He laid me gently on the bed.
From the small flask on the floor, he poured warm water and soaked a towel. Carefully, tenderly, he cleaned the blood from my forehead, his movements slow, almost reverent.
My eyes remained closed.
But I heard everything.
"I never intended for your father to see that camera," Raven said quietly, his voice heavy with guilt.
"I never intended to hurt anyone."
He sat beside me.
"That was my first week at this school," he continued. "I heard about the investigation. About how everyone was afraid—how no one wanted to speak."
He paused.
"I saw the camera first," he said softly. "That was the first time I ever used my powers."
My heart clenched.
"I wasn't supposed to see it," he admitted. "But somehow… I did. And I placed it on the table. I stayed there, watching, waiting for an investigator to notice it—thinking it would help."
His voice cracked.
"I never knew it was your father," he whispered. "And what I saw on that camera was not what your father saw."
He inhaled sharply.
"They manipulated it."
Silence filled the room.
"I'm sorry, Jina," Raven said.
"I never wanted your father—or anyone—to die because of that camera."
He stood up slowly.
"But still," he continued, his voice breaking, "everything became my fault."
He wiped his eyes.
"And… the fault of a woman I once called mother."
He looked at me one last time.
Then quietly, he opened the door and left.
Only after the door closed did I open my eyes.
The towel slipped from my forehead as tears rolled freely down my cheeks.
My chest ached—not just with grief, but with confusion.
His last words echoed in my mind.
A woman I once called mother…
His mother?