The final bell rang, long and freeing.
Students poured out of both buildings, the courtyard filling with noise and movement. The late afternoon sun painted everything gold.
At the academy gates, Joy adjusted her backpack and turned to Lira.
"Text me when you get home."
"I will."
Joy narrowed her eyes playfully. "And don't overthink what happened."
"I won't."
"You will."
Lira smiled faintly.
Joy hugged her quickly—tight, protective—then headed down the east street, her short brown hair bouncing as she walked.
Lira watched her go before turning the opposite direction.
Caelan was already waiting near the stone pillar, hands in his pockets.
"Ready, Storm Cloud?"
She sighed. "You're never going to stop calling me that, are you?"
"Absolutely not."
They began walking home, the street quieter than the campus.
For a while, it was peaceful.
Then Lira spoke.
"…What do you think about Ronan?"
Caelan ran a hand through his messy black hair, thinking.
"He's annoying," he said immediately.
She blinked.
"But," he added, "he's not fake."
"That's… not really an answer."
"It is. He's the type who'll insult you while helping you. Which is both admirable and irritating."
She nodded slowly.
"He's in my class, you know," Caelan continued. "So I'll thank him properly."
"You don't have to," she said quickly.
"I know. But I will."
She smiled softly and nodded.
There was a small pause before Caelan spoke again.
"And Joy," he added, "she's solid."
Lira looked at him. "Solid?"
"She doesn't hesitate. Didn't even think twice before stepping in. That's rare."
A quiet pride warmed Lira's chest.
"She's always been like that," Lira said. "Straightforward. Loud when she needs to be."
"Good," Caelan replied. "You need someone like that."
She glanced at him. "What does that mean?"
He smirked slightly. "You're too calm. If someone insulted me like that, I'd—"
"Get expelled?" she suggested gently.
"Possibly."
She laughed softly.
He looked at her sideways. "What?"
"Nothing."
"You laugh weirdly quietly."
"And you breathe like a dying dragon."
He gasped. "You were saving that."
She nodded, completely serious.
He stared at her for two seconds—
Then burst out laughing.
And for the first time that day, the walk home felt light.
----
By the time they reached home, the sky had softened into evening.
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
Lira stepped inside first, slipping off her shoes. "Mom?"
No answer.
Caelan checked the kitchen. Empty. The living room lights were off. No sound of Aurelia's soft music drifting from upstairs.
"They're not home," he said.
Lira frowned slightly. "That's unusual."
Their mother rarely stayed out late without saying something. Aurelia usually texted.
Caelan pulled out his phone, glanced at it, then shrugged lightly. "Probably errands. Or something came up."
He sounded casual.
But Lira knew him.
He noticed.
He always noticed.
He dropped his bag by the stairs. "I'm going out for a bit."
She looked up. "Now?"
"Yeah. Meeting some friends."
He grabbed his jacket from the hook.
"Don't wait up."
There was a pause before he added, more quietly, "Lock the doors. And if anything feels weird—call me."
She tilted her head. "Weird how?"
He hesitated just a second too long.
"Just… weird."
She studied him.
The green in his eyes seemed sharper in the dim hallway light.
"I'll be fine," she said.
He stepped closer and lightly flicked her forehead. "I know you will."
Then softer—
"Still. Stay safe, Lira."
Something about the way he said it made her chest tighten.
"I will," she replied.
He nodded once, then stepped out the door.
The house fell silent again.
Lira stood there for a moment.
Listening.
The air felt still.
Almost waiting.
The evening had settled into a soft blue hush.
Lira had changed into something more comfortable—a loose cream sweater and dark shorts. Her long silver hair was twisted up into a messy bun, a few strands falling around her face.
Without the structure of school, she looked softer.
Younger.
She was in the kitchen pouring herself water when she heard it—
A knock at the gate.
She froze.
Caelan?
No.
He would've used his key.
She walked to the front door slowly and stepped outside, unlatching the gate.
And paused.
Ronan Hale stood on the other side.
For a second, neither of them spoke.
He looked different outside of school. Less careless. Black hoodie, hands in his pockets, hair slightly wind-tossed. His gaze lingered—just briefly—on her messy bun before settling on her face.
"…Oh," she said quietly.
"Is Caelan home?" he asked.
His voice was calm, steady as always.
She shook her head. "He went out."
Ronan nodded once, like he expected that.
He pulled a folded paper from his pocket and held it out to her. "Give him this. Notes from physics. He missed the last part."
She stepped closer to take it.
Their fingers almost brushed.
"I will," she said softly. "Thank you."
He gave a small shrug. "It's just notes."
She hesitated.
Then, "And… about earlier."
He looked at her.
She tightened her grip on the paper slightly. "I'm sorry you had to step in."
His brow furrowed faintly. "Why are you apologizing?"
"I didn't mean to cause trouble."
Ronan stared at her for a long second.
Then he exhaled through his nose—almost amused, almost annoyed.
"You didn't," he said.
"But—"
"They were being loud," he cut in. "I don't like loud."
There it was again. That calm detachment.
She nodded slowly. "Still… thank you."
He shifted his weight slightly.
"You don't have to thank me either."
"I want to."
A quiet pause stretched between them.
The wind stirred lightly, tugging at the loose silver strands near her face.
Ronan's eyes flickered briefly upward—as if noticing something else entirely—then back to her.
"Just don't let them push you around," he said evenly.
It wasn't harsh.
It wasn't soft either.
Just honest.
She held his gaze.
"I'm trying," she replied.
He gave the faintest nod.
"Good."
Then he turned to leave.
She watched him walk a few steps—
"Ronan?"
He stopped but didn't turn fully.
"…Thank you," she said again, softer this time.
There was the smallest pause.
Then, without looking back—
"It's fine."
And he walked away into the fading light.