Today, five instructors had gathered at the stadium, Andrew among them. Along with Robert, there were two more of my classmates—one of them the boy who had spoken to me for the first time earlier.
Matthew Vauzer—quiet, withdrawn. I hadn't even noticed him until he spoke. He kept to himself, but there was no hostility in him, no reluctance to engage. It felt more like he was used to being alone. Or maybe life had forced him into it.
I won't lie—I liked him. Maybe it was just that one sentence, said at exactly the right moment, but it didn't matter anymore. I'd already decided I was going to befriend him.
The remaining fifteen students were split into groups based on physical ability. I walked up to my assigned trainer. He was staring at me with a deep frown.
"Move, Holivan," he said, already turning away as he led me into a building used as a gym in bad weather. "How are you holding up?"
"I'll live."
"Here." He shoved a sheet with an individual training plan into my hand.
I skimmed it—and my face dropped.
"What?" he smirked.
"You trying to kill me or what?" I asked flatly.
"You wanted fast results. This is the fastest way."
"Hold on—what do you mean evening training and morning runs?"
"It means we train another hour and a half before dinner. And in the morning, before breakfast, you run two laps around the stadium."
I exhaled slowly, forcing down the irritation clawing its way up. He wasn't wrong. I'd asked for this.
I just hadn't thought about the fact that my body was nowhere near what it used to be. Even the old me would've struggled with this. Now? It was borderline insane.
"Teacher Storik?"
A voice cut in. A fourth-year elite student approached Andrew. I raised an eyebrow.
"What is it, Christina?" he asked, like there was nothing strange about her being here.
"I've been asked to bring first-year Holivan to the council. May I have him excused from today's training?"
"Why would the council need a first-year?" Andrew frowned.
"It's a personal request from the future chairman."
"I hope Mr. Silius hasn't forgotten the academy rules. It'd be a problem if anything happened to a special division first-year."
"Of course not, teacher. Clyde just wants to talk. Some elite students weren't exactly welcoming toward Alan, so he wants to smooth things over—as the future chairman."
"Well… in that case, I don't object." Andrew relaxed slightly. "Especially since Holivan today…" He glanced at me again. "Alan, meet me before dinner in gym hall three."
"Got it," I said, already following the girl, whether I liked it or not.
"That makeup doesn't suit you," she said, nodding at my chin.
I instinctively covered it with my hand.
"I know."
"So this is the Holivan family's little rebel. Mind if I call you Alan?"
"Call me whatever you want," I muttered.
"Great. I'm Christina Wilis. You can just call me Christina."
"Fine."
"You're not very talkative, are you?"
"I just don't see what a fourth-year elite student and a first-year special student are supposed to talk about."
She laughed—light, easy. Dimples appeared on her cheeks. She was beautiful. Perfect skin, sleek hair, flawless makeup. Either a lot of effort—or a lot of money.
"Sorry," she said. "I really was curious about you."
"And? What am I like?"
"Completely sane."
I shot her a look, and she went on.
"The heir of the Holivan family, surrounded by all kinds of nasty rumors, suddenly shows up in the special division. Of course people are curious. And then there was your little scene with your brother today. Did you really lose your memory?"
"Yes." No point hiding it anymore. Thanks to Theodore.
"You don't remember anything at all?"
"No."
"Well, that's disappointing. Where's the dramatic story?"
"I don't remember anything—what kind of story do you want?" I said sharply. "That I woke up one day and didn't even recognize my own reflection? Everything I loved, everything I did, everything I wanted—I forgot all of it. Everything tied to my past life is gone. And now I'm here, trying to build something new and figure out who the hell Alan Holivan even is."
"Interesting," she murmured. "Memory loss and a complete personality shift. No wonder you caught his attention," she added with a faint smile. "This way."
She turned right along the second floor and stopped in front of a medical office.
"The academy doctor's on the fifth floor. And I don't need a doctor."
"Not my problem. I was told to bring you here." She nudged me toward the door. "Go on. See you around."
I knocked and carefully pushed the door open.
"Excuse me. I was told to come in."
"Oh? Is this the one you were talking about, little Clyde?" an elderly woman in a white coat asked. Unlike a standard uniform, hers had a snarling tiger patch.
She sat behind a desk. Clyde lounged on a leather sofa against the wall like he owned the place. Behind the desk stood a partition—I caught a glimpse of a medical couch and some equipment.
"Yes. That's him," Clyde said, looking me over slowly.
"Really? A special division student—and without insignia?"
"Doctor, you promised to grant me any request. Let's not waste time."
"Fine," she sighed, then looked at me. "Well? Don't just stand there—get in here." She adjusted her glasses and turned to the computer. "Name."
"Alan Holivan."
She leaned out from behind the screen, studying me with open interest now.
"So it's true? I thought the students made it up out of boredom. Turns out the Holivan heir really did end up in the special division. How did your father allow that?"
"I ran away," I said, a bit stiffly.
"Hah! Well, that's new. Behind the screen, boy."
I stepped behind the partition, glancing around. Nothing unusual. Still, I felt uneasy under the way he was watching me.
Clyde wasn't the same as before.
The calm was gone.
There was something else now—something sharper. Colder.
He's dangerous, my instincts warned me.
"Well? Don't just stand there—strip. Let's see what we're dealing with," the woman said, stepping in behind the partition.
I glanced at Clyde.
He was still watching.
"Can you close the screen?" I asked.
"Oh, for heaven's sake, such delicate youth," the doctor muttered, reaching for the curtain—
"Leave it, Samantha. I want to see too," Silius said calmly.
I shot him a dark look and slowly started unbuttoning my vest.
Piece by piece.
When I was down to just my underwear, Samantha raised an eyebrow and gestured for me to take those off too.
I hesitated for a second.
Then did it.
And just like that, I stood there—completely naked under the cold, assessing gaze of two people—forcing myself not to cover up.