The campus felt unfinished that morning. Not abandoned, just broken in the annoying, bureaucratic way only a university could manage.
XH noticed it the moment he stepped through the gates. The central quad's soda vending machine had a handwritten sign taped to the glass: OUT OF ORDER. NO REFUNDS. Inside, a lone bottle of sprite was jammed sideways against the coil.
To make matters worse, a crowd of frustrated students was gathered in the lobby of the main building. The elevator doors were locked tight, a yellow maintenance cone wedged between them.
"Stairs it is," TR groaned, wiping sweat from his forehead before they'd even climbed a single step. "Four floors. In this humidity. It's a crime."
By the time they reached the lecture hall, half the class was visibly exhausted, shirts clinging to backs, everyone fanning themselves with notebooks. The air in the stairwell had been thick, smelling faintly of damp concrete and old textbooks.
Yet, amid the sweaty, sluggish crowd, a distinct group of students stood out. They were huddled near the bulletin board, completely unfazed by the heat, wearing matching black-and-gold hoodies despite the temperature.
"Look at them," PL whispered, leaning against the wall to catch his breath. "The Black Dragon worshippers. They don't even care that the elevator is dead."
"Well, yeah," JP muttered, tapping his phone. "The regional Dota 2 qualifiers ended last night. Black Dragon took the championship. Those guys think the team members are actual gods."
XH glanced over. A massive, professionally printed poster had been slapped over the official campus announcements. It featured the five-man roster of the "Black Dragon" team, looking fiercely into the camera with crossed arms. The students around it were practically chanting, arguing passionately about drafts, MMR scores, and item builds.
To the campus, Black Dragon was an institution. To XH and his friends, it was a completely different world—one they didn't belong to, and frankly, didn't care about. XH's mind was entirely elsewhere.
In the lecture hall, seats filled gradually. The heat made everyone irritable, but the space between people still felt heavy. Kitty had arrived early. She sat near the window, the pale morning light softening her expression. She looked calm. Too calm.
XH took his seat behind her. Not beside. That was the shape of things now.
The lecture began, but XH absorbed very little of it. His attention kept drifting to Kitty's back, to the steady rhythm of her pen moving across the page. She didn't turn around once.
During the break, the hallway buzzed faintly with more Dota talk from the cult-like fans, but inside the room, the air was static. XH stood up, stopped himself, then stood again. He walked toward Kitty.
"Hey," he said quietly.
She turned and smiled. The smile was gentle. Familiar. Final. "Hey."
"I was thinking," XH began.
Kitty nodded. "I know. You've been thinking a lot lately."
He laughed softly, without humor. "I should've done it earlier."
"Maybe," she said. "But we only realize that after."
They stood there, close enough for honesty, far enough for retreat.
"I don't want this to end badly," XH said.
Kitty studied him for a long moment. "Then don't let it end in silence."
XH opened his mouth. Closed it.
Kitty exhaled slowly, as if she had expected that outcome. "It's okay," she said gently. "You don't have to be brave today."
That hurt more than anger ever could.
By evening, the sky darkened early, threatening rain that refused to fall, leaving the air thick and oppressive.
After a subdued gathering in the common area and a painful, quiet conversation in the dimmer light of the hallway, Kitty had delivered her final blow.
"I'm going to take a step back," she had said. "Then remember me clearly."
She had walked away without looking back.
Exhausted from the stairs, the emotional weight of the day, and the suffocating heat, XH dragged his feet into the evening subway station. The neon signs flickered overhead, casting long shadows on the concrete platform. He felt hollowed out.
He slumped onto a metal bench, waiting for the line 4 train. His eyelids felt like lead. The rhythmic, distant rumble of the tracks acted like a lullaby to his completely drained brain. Within minutes, his head began to bob. He drifted off, his torso heavy, entirely losing his center of gravity.
He leaned forward. And forward. He was completely asleep, tipping over the edge of the bench, about to dive face-first into the filthy, grease-stained subway floor.
Snatch!
A sharp, violent yank backward snapped his eyes open.
He didn't hit the ground. Instead, he was suspended at a dangerous forty-five-degree angle, his throat slightly choked by the collar of his shirt. Someone had tightly gripped the top handle of his heavy backpack, holding him up by sheer force of will like a kitten being scruffy-lifted.
"Whoa, whoa! Up you go, gravity's victim!" a loud, bright voice chirped.
With a powerful heave, the person yanked him fully backward onto the bench. XH blinked rapidly, his heart hammering against his ribs, staring at his savior.
It was a girl he had never seen before. She wore an oversized denim jacket, a messy bun, and carried a glossy university information packet tucked under her arm. She was breathless, wiping her brow with her free hand.
"Man, what do you have in there? Bricks?" she laughed, letting go of his backpack handle. "You almost took a literal dive into the subway ecosystem."
"I... uh..." XH stammered, his brain still trying to process the phantom sensation of the concrete floor rushing toward his nose. "Thank you. I fell asleep."
"I can see that," she said, leaning against the pillar next to his bench, completely casual. "Just looking out for a future classmate. Trust me, you don't want to face-plant in this specific station."
XH rubbed his neck, his gaze lingering on her university packet. "Because of the germs?"
"Well, yeah, the germs will give you a third arm," she said, throwing him a theatrical, warning look. "But worse than that? It's local superstition. Anyone who faces the subway floor first in this station gets cursed. Your final grades? Absolutely destroyed. Straight F's. The universe demands a sacrifice for poor reflexes."
XH couldn't help it. After the brutal, crushing day he'd had, the sheer absurdity of her words cracked through his misery. A small, genuine laugh escaped his lips. "Is that an official university policy?"
"Hey, don't mock the subway gods," she smiled, her eyes crinkling.
Earlier that afternoon, she had been sitting in a sterile, private orientation room on the top floor of the campus administration building. It had been her official transfer orientation day. On one side of the mahogany desk sat the university's top administrators; on the other sat June and her mother. Her mother had remained mostly silent, but her posture was sharp, intimidating, radiating a cold, calculated ambition that made even the deans speak with extra caution.
The administrators had spent an hour meticulously explaining the prestigious Health Track major. They outlined the exclusive, highly competitive international medical school pathways available only to the program's elite graduates—a path June's mother clearly intended for her daughter to dominate at any cost.
"It's a rigorous track, but the rewards are unparalleled," the head admin had explained, sliding a dossier across the table. "Currently, we have four top-notch students anchoring the major: XH, JP, Kitty, and NS. They consistently graduate with highest distinctions and have significantly accelerated their academic progress. They set the standard here."
June had flipped through the dossier, studying the faces and names printed under the high-achieving student profiles. The first profile she had looked at was a boy with tired but determined eyes.
His name was XH.
Back on the dim subway platform, XH looked at the strange girl, still unaware of the wheels turning in the background. "I'm XH," he offered, extending a hand. "What's your name?"
The girl tilted her head, a knowing, playful smirk playing on her lips as she adjusted the strap of her bag.
"Don't worry about it," June replied smoothly, stepping toward the yellow safety line. "You'll remember my name soon enough."
The train finally roared into the station, the brakes screeching against the tracks, washing them in a sharp gust of wind. The doors slid open. June stepped into the crowded train car, looking back over her shoulder with a sharp, mysterious wink.
"Stay awake, XH! The semester isn't over yet!"
She disappeared into the crowd. As the doors closed and the train pulled away, XH stood alone on the platform. The weight of losing Kitty hadn't vanished, but the air felt charged with an unpredictable new energy. Something entirely new was arriving. And for the first time all day, he breathed.