___________________________
"If the enemy of my enemy is my friend, then surely you should be friend to my friend."
— Holly Black
___________________________
At the Audition Hall.
Sadeeqah paced in front of the stage, arms folded, unimpressed.
"Next," she said flatly.
Bashir stepped forward.
He wasn't loud.
Wasn't dramatic.
Didn't even look confident.
He read his lines once—steady, controlled, almost careless.
No shouting.
No begging for applause.
Tahir's pen stopped moving.
He tilted his head, studying him.
Bashir finished. Silence followed.
A few boys snickered.
Sadeeqah opened her mouth to dismiss him—then hesitated.
Tahir leaned back in his chair.
"That one," he said calmly.
"He's My class rep."
Sadeeqah shot him a look. "Excuse me?"
"He listens," Tahir continued, eyes still on Bashir. "He adapts. He doesn't try to dominate the room—he lets the room adjust to him."
Bashir shifted nervously.
Sadeeqah exhaled slowly, reassessing. Then—
"You. Bashir. Stay."
The snickers died instantly.
Bashir blinked. "M-me?"
"Yes," she said. "Congratulations. You're the male lead."
Gasps rippled through the room.
Tahir looked down and wrote one more word beside Potential:
Control.
________
AFTER AUDITIONS
The room finally cleared.
Scripts stacked. Chairs scraped back into place.
Sadeeqah dropped into the seat beside Tahir, exhaustion loosening her shoulders.
"You're annoyingly good at reading people," she said.
"I don't read people," Tahir replied. "I only observe their pattern of behavior."
She laughed quietly. "Same thing, just creepier I guess."
She stretched, then leaned closer, voice dropping into gossip mode.
"Since you're clearly allergic to school spirit, let me enlighten you."
He didn't stop writing.
• "The Elite Cup this year is insane," she continued. "Football, Super-9 Quiz. Marathon, Lawn tennis, Basketball, Chess and Puzzles, And the Final one for this Year is the Riddle-Hunt… All these are chosen at Random, quietly to destroy reputations. And to provide Fair Grounds for all the 9 elites"
"Still don't care," Tahir muttered.
She waved him off and continued anyway.
"Among the top students representing C.A.A are Abbas, Isham…" She paused, watching his reflection in the glass. "And a girl named MiMie."
Something in Tahir's posture shifted.
"She came around the same time as me," he said carefully.
"Well, she'd better be prepared," Sadeeqah replied. Her tone sharpened.
"Because A.R.C is bringing their new transfer. The girl who won the Annual Math Bowl three years in a row."
Cold spread through Tahir's veins.
Sadeeqah drew it out, savoring the moment.
"Her name is—"
"Afreen Omar." Tahir said
The words cut through the air—flat, lethal.
Sadeeqah blinked. "So… you know her?"
Tahir didn't respond.
Inside, his thoughts detonated.
Oh no.
MiMie and CAA are in real trouble.
I thought she could handle Safeeyah… but Afreen?
That name carried weight. Precision. Ruthlessness. The girl he met at the rooftop, Three and half years ago.
She gives me chills.
I tried beating her in a math test back A.M.A once—and it took actual effort.
I'd promised MiMie not to interfere. Promised to stay bored. Detached.
But if MiMie faces Afreen alone—
She wouldn't survive it.
Tahir stood so suddenly his chair scraped the floor.
"I have to go."
Sadeeqah frowned. "Where?"
"Twenty minutes," he said, already moving. "I'll be back."
He was halfway out the door when the thought locked in—sharp and unavoidable.
I need to find MiMie.
_______________
Race to find MiMie
Tahir cut across the courtyard, moving fast enough to draw glances—but slow enough to pretend he wasn't running.
He had to find MiMie
Afreen was here.
Not Safeeyah.
Not the old, petty rival MiMie had prepared for.
Afreen Umar.
Smart enough.
Ruthless enough.
Cold enough to dismantle MiMie along with CAA piece by piece without blinking.
All he needed was quite normal, boring high school life.
But the universe, as always, had other plans.
_______________
THE WARNING
Jamal stepped directly into his path—solid, immovable. A wall in sneakers.
"Hey," he said quietly. Too quietly.
"Just the guy I was looking for."
Tahir stopped.
Unimpressed.
"What are you saying?" he asked flatly.
Jamal moved closer, his presence heavy with entitlement.
"I'm saying this—listen carefully. Stay away from Sadeeqah if you want to survive in this school."
Tahir tilted his head slightly, studying him like a mild inconvenience.
"With all due respect, senior," he replied calmly,
"your time is what I don't have."
Jamal's jaw twitched.
"There it is," he muttered. "That attitude."
He stepped in, voice dropping, turning poisonous.
"You think this school tolerates bullying? It doesn't. But I bend rules. I am the rules. I'm the hero here. They worship me. I run this goddamn place—so get it through your thick skull."
Tahir exhaled softly.
Almost amused.
"Wow," he said. "That's quite a speech. Let me respond clearly."
His tone shifted—lower, colder.
"I don't give a flying damn who you are in this school."
He stepped forward.
The space between them vanished.
"Don't tell me what to do. Don't tell me who to talk to. Nobody gets in my way."
His eyes locked onto Jamal's.
"Tahir sees. Tahir wants. Tahir gets."
Another step.
"If you want to be the first example I set school… interfere with my peace."
A pause.
"I dare you."
His voice was dead calm now. Worse than shouting.
"And one more thing."
He leaned in, just enough.
"The only person who can beat me—
is me."
Then he brushed past Jamal's shoulder deliberately.
"Now move," Tahir said coolly.
"Senior."
Jamal stood frozen.
For the first time in two years, someone had stood toe-to-toe with him.
No fear.
No hesitation.
Not even respect.
This kid… Jamal realized, throat tightening,
is dangerous.
He opened his mouth.
"Ehm—I—"
"Captain! Captain!"
Mustyy came jogging toward them, breathless.
Relief washed over Jamal's face.
"Coach is here," Mustyy said. "The whole squad's waiting. Shall we?"
He glanced between them.
"What's going on?"
Jamal recovered quickly.
"Nothing," he said stiffly. "He was just leaving."
Tahir turned with a faint smile.
"Yo, Mustyy," he said easily.
"How's it hanging, buddy?"
Jamal leaned in close, voice a whisper edged with threat.
"This isn't over."
Tahir didn't respond.
He just looked back—those cold, empty blue eyes locking onto Jamal's.
Unblinking.
Jamal turned away first.
______________
THE RETURN OF AN OLD NIGHTMARE
Tahir finally spotted MiMie near the admin block.
She was pacing in tight circles, fingers digging into her sleeves, lips moving like she was arguing with ghosts.
"Yo… Hey, MiMie."
She froze.
Turned slowly.
"Ooh… it's You.
What do you want, Tahir?"
He didn't bother easing into it.
"She's here."
MiMie's brows knit.
"Who? Safeeyah?"
"No."
He inhaled, steadying himself.
"Hmm… She's really here."
A beat.
"Who—?" MiMie started.
"Afreen Omar."
The name hit like a gunshot.
All the color drained from MiMie's face.
"…What?" she whispered. "You mean—here? In this school?"
"No. A.R.C. And she was initially one of the A.R.C representatives, but somehow at the last minute, excused herself."
MiMie dragged both hands down her face.
"Of course," she muttered bitterly. "Of course she is. Just when I thought the universe was done humiliating me."
She looked up, eyes sharp with panic.
"What are we going to do now?"
Tahir shrugged, deliberately casual.
"Well… that's your problem, at least for now."
"Tahir—no. Don't do that," she snapped. "You're in this mess too! You were there three and a half years ago. You chose me over her. You broke her trust. Because of you she missed like up-to 5 days or week of school and as a result lost her perfect attendance record!"
"I am not getting involved this time.." he exhaled. "Not this time," he said quietly. "Last time, I helped because I owed you. And I paid for it. I'm not interfering again. You're on your own."
MiMie stared at him, unimpressed.
"Oh please. Cut the nonsense. If that's true, why did you run all the way here just to warn me?"
Tahir stopped.
Looked away.
"…Because I don't want her to know I'm here, but I know that's not possible so, the next best thing is for her to know that I am not associated with you in anyway possible" he admitted. "And you—you will keep your mouth shut. No matter how bad things get. Never try to drag me in to your fight with both Safeeyah, Afreen, or even A.R.C."
MiMie's eyes widened, realizing something.
"Tahir…" she breathed. "Oh my God."
"What?" he asked sharply.
"She already knows."
The ground seemed to tilt.
"…What?"
"Afreen," MiMie said softly. "She knows we're both here."
His blood went cold.
"How?" he demanded.
"Think," MiMie said. "Through Safeeyah. I told Safeeyah everything that happened between us and Afreen."
Tahir groaned, dragging a hand over his face.
"Why would you do that?"
"Because she was my best friend at the time!" MiMie snapped. "Obviously!"
"So Safeeyah told Afreen everything," Tahir muttered darkly.
"And Afreen told Safeeyah everything back. Enemy of my enemy… indeed."
MiMie pressed a hand to her chest, breathing unevenly.
"It's too much, Tahir."
"I know, MiMie."
She looked at him.
"Tahir?"
"Yeah?"
"No matter what happens… I don't regret transferring to this school, or even dragging you to this school."
His expression softened—just slightly.
"Hmm… I know."
"And you know why I did it."
He nodded.
"Hmm. Yeah. I think I do."
"No matter what," she said, voice steady now,
"I will always choose you, to be by my side, always."
He met her gaze, unflinching.
"I know," he said quietly.
"In the end, it's always going to be you and me. Against 19th September, 2031—like we promised."
Then he stepped back.
"Hmm… But for now… you're on your own."
"Maybe," MiMie replied.
"But not necessarily."
He raised a brow.
"Oh? Let me guess—you already have a plan. And a backup. And another backup. Your 3-steps-ahead-failsafe-plans as always huh?"
She smirked.
"Shut up."
"You think you'll win?"
"I know I will."
He scoffed.
"Still not convinced."
"We'll see," she said. "I need to find Isham. She's crucial."
"Blah blah," Tahir waved her off. "Boring. I'm leaving."
"Yeah, yeah. Go be mediocre as you always wished."
"Hmm…At least I'm not an obsessive freak, that needs to win all the time though."
They turned in opposite directions.
Tahir headed back toward Sadeeqah—Jamal's threats already forgotten.
MiMie walked towards Isham
Towards strategy
Towards war
_____________
WAR ROOM: MIMIE & ISHAM
MiMie found Isham in the girls' common room, sleeves rolled up, laptop open, papers spread like a crime scene.
Isham didn't look up.
"You're late, you got lost on your way coming here ?"
"Traffic," MiMie said dryly, dropping into the chair opposite her. "And by traffic, I mean destiny being annoying."
Isham finally lifted her eyes. One look at MiMie's face and she shut the laptop halfway.
"I just found out that one of my former school mate whom I had a falling out with, back in A.M.A, is also part of A.R.C's candidates " MiMie said.
Isham didn't bother asking who.
"Afreen Omar."
A slow breath left MiMie's nose.
"So it's confirmed." She continued. "How did you know I was talking about her."
"Well, digging into everyone in the elite school is kind of my job, and besides information is a weapon in the elite society, you know" Isham said while her eyes glittered, like she enjoying what she does.
"Hmm… I see, so that's how you managed to gather a lot of information on all of us, then." MiMie said while wondering what else is Isham capable of.
"They're bringing her for Super 9 Quiz," Isham continued. "A.R.C wants blood."
Isham leaned back, fingers steepled. Calm. Analytical. Dangerous.
"Figures. They won't waste her on anything physical."
"Not exactly," MiMie said. "Super 9 Quiz is their killing field, but, Afreen is much nore than meets the eyes"
Silence stretched between them—heavy with numbers, probability, memory.
Isham broke it.
"Afreen doesn't just answer questions. She predicts patterns. She memorizes examiners. She weaponizes time."
MiMie nodded.
"She once finished a national math paper in half the time and used the rest to recheck everyone else's work."
Isham's lips twitched.
"Show-off."
"So," MiMie said, leaning forward, "we don't beat her head-on."
"No," Isham agreed. "We outlast her."
She flipped a page.
"Super 9 has three phases. Speed round. Elimination round. Final synthesis."
MiMie's eyes sharpened.
"I'll anchor the synthesis. That's where reasoning beats raw recall."
Isham nodded.
"And I'll handle eliminations. Pressure questions. Ethics. Ambiguity. Afreen hates uncertainty."
Mimi smiled faintly.
"She does."
Isham slid another sheet forward.
"Now—girls' sports day."
MiMie straightened.
"Marathon and lawn tennis."
"ARC might think you're fragile now," Isham said coolly. "Because they don't think you are in the right headspace causes of the fall out. So they will try to exploit your emotions before the games or at anytime they got the chance
"Good," MiMie replied. "Let them come at me, with all they have got."
"I still don't understand why you specifically as the director to put you on, in both the marathon and the tennis match." Isham said while looking at MiMie suspiciously.
"Because I have a lot to prove to C.A.A, and besides a lot of the students are suspecting that I might be a spy, sent to destabilize C.A.A, just for A.R.C to win."
"Hmm… you got a point there, but, not all students suspect you. Because everyone knows about the conditions of transfers in the elite, and besides, if you are a spy, then you school life will be virtually over because the… " Isham suddenly stopped talking, having doubts and MiMie can tell just by looking at her eyes.
"The what…" MiMie asked, even though she knows what Isham is scared of saying.
"The 9 elite shadows" Isham whispered.
"Hmm… Yeah, I know, they will destroy my school life and probably my future" MiMie said as she took a bottle of water on the table
"So…. Yeah that's terrifying, but people also know how smart you are, and you won't betray C.A.A, because you helped beat us last semester, it would have been easy for you to do the same this semester also." Isham said
"Well, technically, you are right… but C.A.A put up a fight, it's just that we are far more prepared and willing to do whatever it takes" MiMie said before sipping the bottle of water.
"Be that as it may, but right now, the issues will be facing are much more worse, because A.R.C is coming after you."
"I know that, that's why I requested directly to the director himself to allow me to participate in both the marathon and lawn tennis, even though it's the same day."
"Well I am in no support of such, but since it's an order from the director I will not refuse it, I will support you" Isham said, while extending her hands to MiMie.
"Thanks, I appreciate it… however, I don't want you to get caught in the cross fire between Safeeyah and Afreen, they will come after me hard"
"Yeah I know, but still, as long as you were that white and brown uniform, you belong to CAA, and if there is one thing CAA are good at, is defending their own."
"Hmm… let me be clear, Isham, I don't want anyone to stand in my way, I want to defeat Safeeyah and Afreen on my own. So, I will appreciate it even more if none of you get in my way" MiMie said while crushing the bottle of water on her hand, making a crunchy sound.
Isham can clearly see, the anger and the fire in her eyes.
"Okay, fine, let me be clear also, if it's one on one battle between you, Safeeyah or Afreen, I won't let anyone interfere, however if it's a team work game, I will back you up, whether you asked the director or the principal, I don't care, I want to win, I want CAA to win. That's my goal" Isham said with determination in her eyes.
"That's fine by me." MiMie replied.
"Okay let's get back to mapping out strategies.
Isham tapped the marathon schedule.
"Afreen won't participate. Safeeyah might. But A.R.C's real strength is sprint, not endurance."
MiMie exhaled.
"I'll pace myself till kilometer three. Then I break."
Isham smirked.
"Classic MiMie. Controlled chaos."
"And lawn tennis?" MiMie asked.
Isham's eyes gleamed.
"Afreen's stats are superbly crazy, perfect serves, perfect returns,
She leaned in.
"She was given the opportunity to go to nationals, scholarships, and yet she rejected it"
"Yeah, so I heard. " MiMie said with a grin in her face. "But I am not afraid to face her."
"Hmm be that as it may. If I sense you are way too exhausted after the marathon and you didn't recover after the hours of break, I will have to substitute you." Isham said with eyes sharp.
"Hmm… I understand, but I believe that I won't be exhausted" MiMie replied
"Well, so far we both know how ARC plays" Isham said as she plays a previous lawn tennis match for MiMie on the laptop, then continued "ARC plays power. We play placement. Drop shots. Mental fatigue. Long rallies."
MiMie chuckled softly.
"You want to humiliate them."
"I want to exhaust them," Isham corrected. "Humiliation is just a bonus."
They sat back, the plan solidifying between them like steel cooling after fire.
Then MiMie spoke quietly.
"There's one more variable."
Isham tilted her head.
"Whats that's "
"Tahir" MiMie said.
"Yeah, amongst the super intelligent team candidates, he is the unknown variable, that I couldn't get much information on"
MiMie didn't deny it.
"He says he's only doing the bear minimum," MiMie said. "But if things get ugly… I fear he might even give up on that."
Isham snorted.
"I honestly don't know why the director selected him to be on the team."
MiMie smiled despite herself.
"Tahir is inherently lazy, but he is somewhat talented, may be that's why he was chosen"
"It's still doesn't make sense, because I went through Tahir's record, through out his junior years, he was just average at best, he maintains B-grade results, no significant sportsmanship displayed, average in football, average in basketball and just plain mediocre type of student" Isham says while still confused.
"Well, back in A.M.A he is reserved, I mean he chose to hide his intelligence, but when he chose to display, he dominates" MiMie tried to explain Tahir to Isham
"Well, why is he hiding, if he is good" Isham asked curiously
"Hmm… because all of his early childhood, he wanted to be a normal kid" MiMie said.
"Normal how ?, not being weird ? Because he kinda is… though" Isham said mockingly
"Hahaha, it's not like that, even though he is absolutely weird, he just wanted to be a normal person, I mean his family is so complicated you know" MiMie saying that with a tinge of sadness on her face.
"Ooh, I understand now, family dynamics are most often what makes or breaks people I guess"
"Yeah… it is" MiMie said "anyways let's continue
The two girls locked eyes.
Tomorrow wasn't just competition.
It was exposure.
Legacy.
Survival.
And neither of them planned to lose.