Ruz's POV
Monterrazas International School (MIS)
MIS wasn't just a school.
It was the kind of place people talked about like it was a goal, something to achieve, to strive for, to measure success against.
But now, standing outside those tall iron gates with my bag slung over one shoulder, I finally understood what everyone was so obsessed with.
Sleek cars rolled in one after another like they were competing in some silent, expensive parade.
Drivers stepped out in crisp uniforms, opening doors with practiced elegance, as if this was a five star hotel instead of a school.
Students emerged in groups laughing, confident, heads held high, like they had already belonged here their entire lives.
The buildings were all glass and clean lines. Too clean. Too perfect. The kind of perfect that made you suspicious.
"Wow," the sound slipped out before I could stop it.
I turned my head slowly, taking everything in the wide gardens, the perfectly trimmed paths, the morning light spilling across the massive windows like gold.
"Is this a school… or a piece of heaven?"
He didn't look impressed. Not even a little.
"It was heaven," he said calmly. Then his eyes flicked toward me. "For a long time."
A pause.
"But for you… it might slowly turn into hell."
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
He shrugged like he was talking about the weather.
"You heard me."
Something in my chest tightened. I forced a small laugh, but it came out wrong.
"So what now?" I asked. "Am I supposed to be the villain of your little paradise story?"
His expression didn't change. "I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to."
The silence between us stretched. The garden suddenly didn't feel peaceful anymore—just too quiet, too aware.
I looked away first. "Am I really that bad?"
He didn't answer immediately. That made it worse.
Then, finally—"You're not bad."
I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.
"You're just…" he paused, searching for the word. "A problem for people who expect things to stay the same."
I scoffed. "That sounds like a very polite way of calling me a disaster."
A faint smirk tugged at his lips.
"Take it however you want."
I turned fully toward him now. "You know, you say things like that and still expect me to think you're normal?"
"I never said I was normal."
"Clearly."
A beat.
Then, softer—almost teasing—he added, "And yet you're still here."
I narrowed my eyes. "Unfortunately, I have no choice."
"That's what everyone says at the beginning," he replied quietly.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
The morning breeze moved through the trees like it was trying to interrupt us but thought better of it.
Finally, I muttered, "This place better not actually turn into hell."
He glanced at me sideways.
"Depends on you."
I exhaled sharply. "Great. No pressure at all."
Listen careanyone "Don't mess with anyone first," he continued, each word deliberate. "And second stay away from me."
I blinked.
"…What?"
"From now on," he went on, like this was the most reasonable request in human history, "you don't know me, I don't know you. If you get into any trouble, deal with it yourself."
He paused, just long enough for the weight of it to settle.
"Got it?"
Wow.
My brother, the one who was always beside me in every fight, the one who taught me how to drive a car, and the same one who once gave a boy a terrifying experience for even trying to trap me. That boy probably still looks both ways before saying my name out loud.
What a supportive, loving human being.
Animal.
I stared at him, my mouth slightly open. "You're unbelievable."
He didn't even react. Didn't flinch, didn't smile, didn't apologize. He just walked off, hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed like he hadn't just disowned me in public.
Classic Adrian.
I watched him disappear into the crowd, swallowed the lump in my throat, and exhaled slowly.
"Okay," I muttered to myself, cracking my neck like a boxer before a match. "New school. New start. No violence."
A pause.
"…Maybe a little violence."
The moment I stepped inside, everything changed.
The noise from outside softened into something quieter, more controlled.
The air felt cooler against my skin, wide hallways stretched ahead of me, polished floors reflecting sunlight that poured in through massive windows high above.
Students walked past in neat uniforms, their voices calm and measured, their footsteps unhurried.
It looked peaceful. Too peaceful.
And now, apparently, I was part of it.
"Great," I whispered to myself, gripping my schedule like it was a lifeline. "Love that for me."
Five minutes in, and I was already lost.
Amazing. Incredible. A new personal record for incompetence.
I spotted a passing student, a girl with perfectly curled hair and an expression that suggested she had somewhere important to be and stepped into her path.
"Excuse me, where is section C?"
"Second floor," she replied without stopping, her heels clicking against the floor like a metronome.
"Thank you!"
I headed upstairs, feeling slightly less useless. Simple. Easy. Nothing could go wrong.
The moment I reach the second floor, I hear it.
Running.
Fast. Loud. Aggressively loud.
The kind of running that makes me immediately think: Either someone's late… or someone committed a crime.
Before I can even turn,
BAM.
A body slams into me.
My balance tilts violently. His too.
For one horrifying second,
Somehow, I stabilize myself.
Him?
Not so lucky.
I grab his wrist on instinct.
Now he's stuck in this ridiculous position half standing, half falling, suspended mid-air like gravity itself is still deciding whether to embarrass him.
Everything pauses.
Then he looks at me.
Sharp eyes. Annoyed eyes. The kind of eyes that look like they judge people professionally.
He tries pulling his hand away.
I tighten my grip.
"Let go of my hand."
I raise an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"
His expression somehow gets worse. "What's wrong with you?" he snaps. "Are you deaf?"
I roll my eyes dramatically.
"Fine. Your funeral."
And I let go.
Instant regret.
For him.
He hits the floor HARD.
His arms flail. His bag flies sideways. And somewhere in the distance, his dignity flatlines.
Nearby students freeze for exactly one second before the hallway explodes.
"BRO GOT DISCONNECTED FROM THE SERVER."
"Dropped like weak WiFi!"
"She followed instructions too accurately!"
"Natural selection at work!"
The guy pushes himself up on one elbow and stares at me like I have personally ruined his bloodline.
"…You let go."
I cross my arms.
"You told me to."
"That doesn't mean you ACTUALLY do it!"
I blink at him innocently.
"So now I'm supposed to ignore your wishes? Interesting. Very toxic."
A couple students choke while laughing.
He looks seconds away from developing a migraine.
Before he can respond, more footsteps thunder down the hallway.
Three boys appear around the corner like a disaster squad.
Boy One points dramatically. "THERE HE IS!"
They stop.
Look at him on the floor.
Look at me standing above him.
Then immediately lose control.
Boy Two doubles over laughing. "YOU STILL FELL?!"
Boy Three grabs the wall for support. "No, because HOW are you losing gravity fights?!"
The dark-haired guy closes his eyes briefly like he regrets being born.
"And who's this?" Boy One asks, grinning at me. "You picked her up while falling?"
I answer before the floor boy speak.
"He wanted the full falling experience," I say calmly. "I supported his dreams."
Silence.
Then absolute chaos.
"NAHHHHH…."
"SHE ASSISTED THE FALL!"
"That's insane!"
Boy Two wipes fake tears from his eyes. "She said 'follow your passion' and dropped him!"
Boy Three points aggressively. "Your reputation is FINISHED."
The guy exhales slowly through his nose.
"Shut up," he mutters. Then he looks at me. "…Help me up."
I stare at him for a second.
Then sigh dramatically and offer my hand.
He looks suspicious.
Smart man.
Still, he grabs it.
I pull him halfway up—
Then release him.
Immediately.
He drops back down with a loud THUD.
I dust off my hands. "Tit for tat."
For two full seconds there is silence.
Then the hallway detonates.
People are wheezing.
One guy literally sits on the floor.
Boy One is SLAPPING lockers. "NO NO NO SHE DIDN'T….."
Boy Two points at his friend like he's discovered comedy itself. "BRO TRUSTED HER AGAIN!"
Boy Three can't breathe anymore. "You are NEVER recovering from this!"
Somehow, through pure hatred and determination, the guy finally stands up on his own.
His hair is messy now. His expression is murderous.
Honestly? He looks even better angry, which is unfortunate for me spiritually.
Boy Two steps closer to me, still grinning.
"You're new, right?"
"Yeah."
He nods slowly. "That explains the fearlessness. You haven't learned survival instincts yet."
I glance at the dark-haired guy.
"Not my fault he runs like a shopping cart with one broken wheel."
The hallway ERUPTS AGAIN.
"OH THAT WAS PERSONAL…"
"DAY ONE VIOLENCE!"
"CALL AN AMBULANCE!"
Boy One clutches his chest dramatically. "She's farming kills at this point!"
Boy Three looks at the dark-haired guy with fake sympathy. "Bro… transfer schools."
The guy stares at me, eyes narrowed.
"You're enjoying this way too much."
"Maybe you're just too easy to bully."
"Easy..?"
"You literally fell twice."
Boy Two collapses against the wall screaming.
The dark-haired guy shakes his head slowly, but this time—
A smirk slips through.
Tiny.
Fast.
But I see it.
And somehow that tiny expression feels more dangerous than the glare.
"Yeah," he says quietly. "We'll see about that."
The noise around us fades for half a second.
Just enough for something strange to settle between us.
Not anger. Not annoying.
Something worse.
Interest.
Uh oh.
"See you around," he says.
I don't answer.
Just turn and walk toward my classroom.
But I can still feel his eyes following me down the hallway.
Like this isn't over.
Like somehow, accidentally,
I've started something.
Adrian's warning echoes in my head.
Don't mess with anyone.
I sigh quietly.
"…Well."
Too late for that.
Because something about that guy, the way he looked at me, the way that smirk had slipped through despite himself, told me everything I needed to know.
Yeah. He is trouble.
Exactly the kind Adrian meant.
I reached the classroom door and placed my hand on the frame. Then, just for a second, I paused.
And I looked back.
He was still there. Not at the end of the hallway, not walking away, not laughing with his friends.
Just standing. Watching. Thinking.
His eyes met mine across the distance, and for a moment, neither of us moved.
A small smile slipped onto my face before I could stop it.
Different sections. Different world. Everything is different.
But somehow, deep in my gut, I already knew.
This wasn't the last time we would met.
Because I don't go looking for trouble.
Trouble always finds me first.