Jace's POV
"This should be good. I hope I can get another shot at this."
Onyx had said it quietly.
Almost to himself.
After that... silence.
The hallway outside the study corner hummed faintly with distant footsteps and muffled voices from other classrooms, but the space near the pillar where I was hiding had gone strangely still.
Is he still here?
I leaned slightly to the side, careful not to reveal myself like some amateur spy in a cheap movie.
Nothing.
The corner was empty.
He was gone.
I straightened slowly, slipping my hands into my pockets.
"Well," I muttered under my breath, glancing toward the direction he must have left, "that was dramatic."
I clicked my tongue softly.
"I wonder what that was all about," I said to myself.
Right on cue, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
Perfect timing.
I pulled it out and glanced at the screen.
Dwight.
I answered the call and lifted the phone to my ear.
"Hey," Dwight said immediately. "I'm at the café now. Are you coming?"
"Yeah," I replied casually, turning toward the exit of the building. "I'll be there in five minutes."
"Okay. I'll be waiting," he said before hanging up.
Easy.
At least one thing today was normal.
* * *
A few minutes later, I pushed open the glass door of the café.
Cold air and the smell of roasted coffee beans hit me the moment I pushed the door open. The place was moderately busy—students scattered around small tables, laptops open, cups of coffee slowly cooling beside half-finished assignments.
Classic university survival zone.
Dwight was already there.
He sat near the window with his laptop open, typing with the focused expression of someone who had completely forgotten the outside world existed.
As soon as he looked up and spotted me, he lifted a hand in greeting.
I walked over and dropped into the chair across from him.
"Done with class?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said.
"What unit was it again?"
"Database Management."
He leaned back slightly, eyebrows lifting with amusement.
"Ah. Don't tell me you failed the Capstone Project last year?" he said, clearly enjoying himself.
I rolled my eyes.
"I did not fail," I corrected flatly. "I just didn't submit it on time."
Dwight grinned.
"That's the same thing," he said. "But you know, you should've planned your time better."
I stared at him.
Slowly.
Very deliberately.
"Don't lecture me about it," I said. "Or do you want me to leave?"
He laughed.
"You haven't changed at all," he said, shaking his head. "Still the same cocky personality."
"Glad you noticed."
"So," he continued, resting his elbow on the table, "how's life lately?"
"So-so," I said with a shrug. "Just working somewhere to pass the time."
"Ah, good," he said. Then he raised one finger slightly. "Give me a moment though. I'm reading something."
He turned the laptop screen back toward himself.
"A very long email."
I frowned.
"Hey," I said, leaning back in my chair. "Aren't we supposed to be catching up? Why are you working right now?"
"Well," Dwight replied casually while scrolling, "this is from one of my students. A senior."
He clicked something and continued reading.
"He failed to submit a project I asked them to do weeks ago. Now he's asking for another chance."
I snorted.
"Don't," I said immediately. "Let them delay their graduation. That way they'll learn how it feels."
A small smirk crept onto my face.
Cruel?
Maybe.
But effective.
Dwight sighed lightly.
"I already told him that," he said. "But this one is persistent. He even explained the reasons why it happened."
He tilted his head slightly at the screen.
"And I must say... it's interesting."
"Oh?" I said lazily.
"But it feels like a robot wrote this," Dwight continued. "Technically good. Very structured. Clear explanations."
He paused.
"But there's no emotion in it at all."
I frowned.
Something about that description felt... familiar.
"A senior, you said?" I asked slowly.
"Yeah."
"And a guy?"
"Yeah."
I blinked once.
No way.
Impossible.
Onyx?
That guy treated deadlines like sacred law.
If the world was ending tomorrow, he'd probably still submit his project one hour early just to be safe.
But then—
This morning.
The way he froze during the presentation.
The way he kept typing that email.
The way he looked like his entire operating system had crashed.
My eyes narrowed slightly.
"What's the name of the sender?" I asked.
"Onyx Adrian Cruz."
Fuck!
My eyes widened.
"Wait—what?" I blurted, leaning forward so fast my chair almost scraped the floor.
Dwight blinked at me.
"Do you know him? Since you're repeating a unit," Dwight continued, "you probably saw him around already."
He read through the email again.
"He's actually a very bright student," he added. "Quiet, but extremely capable."
My jaw tightened.
"But his exams and activities are always perfect," Dwight went on. "That's why it's strange."
He shook his head.
"It's just that he failed to submit the project I required."
Dwight glanced back at the email.
"He said he got distracted and lost focus."
A short pause.
"That wasn't a convincing reason for me."
He closed the laptop halfway.
"So I told him he'll have to repeat the unit again next year."
For a moment, I didn't say anything.
The café kept going like normal—cups clinking, people talking, chairs scraping—but it all kind of blurred out, like someone turned the volume down on everything except him.
Because suddenly, everything aligned.
The blank stare.
The slight tremor in his voice.
How his focus kept slipping, then snapping back like he was forcing it.
And that email—Jesus—he'd been typing it like it was life or death.
Not random.
Not just him being weird.
I leaned back slightly, exhaling through my nose, a faint smirk pulling at my mouth.
Ah.
So that's it.
There it is.
Now I get it.
What's been messing with his head.
And why he's been acting like this the whole time.
"He sent a very long email, look." Dwight said.
He turned his laptop to me and I read what Onyx sent to him.
* * *
Subject: Request for Reconsideration – Systems Analysis and Design Project Submission
Dear Professor Dwight,
Good day.
I hope this message finds you well. I am writing regarding the System Requirements Specification project that I failed to submit within the required deadline.
I fully acknowledge that the responsibility for the missed submission lies with me. I understand that deadlines are established not only to assess competency but also to evaluate discipline and time management. In that regard, I recognize that I did not meet the expectations required of a graduating student.
However, I respectfully wish to request a reconsideration of my standing in this unit.
Over the past semesters, I have consistently maintained strong academic performance in my subjects and related courses. My examination scores, quizzes, and laboratory activities reflect my understanding of database architecture, optimization techniques, and systems integration.
The reason for my failure to submit was not due to lack of effort or disregard for your requirements. It was due to a lapse in judgment caused by personal circumstances that affected my focus and decision-making at that time. I take full accountability for allowing those circumstances to interfere with my academic responsibilities.
I am not requesting leniency without merit. If given the opportunity, I am willing to present the completed project, undergo additional evaluation, or comply with any supplementary requirement you deem appropriate to validate my competency.
Graduating on time is important to me, not merely as an academic milestone, but as part of commitments I have made to my family and to my own long-term goals.
I understand if your decision remains unchanged. Regardless of the outcome, I sincerely appreciate your time in reading this message and considering my request.
Respectfully,
Onyx Adrian Cruz
BS Information Technology – Senior Year Class 4-1
* * *
I read the line again.
"Commitments I have made to my family and to my own long-term goals."
Of course he wrote it like that.
Not a single emotional word.
No desperation.
No excuses.
Just responsibility.
Just pressure.
Just the quiet panic of someone trying very hard not to fall apart.
I clicked my tongue softly.
If you were going to beg, you should've at least sounded more human.
I leaned back slowly in my chair.
The café noise returned in fragments—the low murmur of students, the hiss of an espresso machine somewhere behind the counter, the faint clatter of ceramic cups being stacked. But it all felt distant for a moment, like background audio someone had turned down.
Across from me, Dwight sighed deeply and turned his laptop back toward himself.
"I appreciate what he said in the email," Dwight said, his fingers resting on the keyboard. "But I still don't feel like he was completely honest."
He stared at the screen again, frowning slightly.
"As if I'm looking for a more... empathetic reason."
I didn't answer.
Instead, I stared at the wooden surface of the table between us.
The grain patterns looked suddenly very interesting.
"I'm thinking," Dwight continued, tapping lightly on the laptop, "if I accept reconsideration, then what is the point of me teaching this subject at all?"
He glanced up at me.
"Planning is the entire structure of this unit," he said. "If he failed to do that—if he allowed external forces to distract him—then he failed to plan."
I let out a quiet breath.
Then I lifted my gaze and met his eyes.
"But sometimes," I said slowly, "there are external forces you can't guarantee."
Dwight's fingers stopped moving.
"Even if you're strong-willed," I continued calmly. "Even if you planned everything already. Even if you believe there will be no mistakes."
I leaned slightly forward.
"We're still humans after all," I said. "We're not machines."
Dwight blinked.
Actually blinked.
His lips parted as he stared at me like I had suddenly started speaking an alien language.
"Am I still talking to Jace," he asked slowly, "or somebody else?"
I frowned.
"Yeah, no—this isn't where you start making jokes." I said flatly.
He continued staring at me like he was trying to confirm I hadn't been replaced by an emotional clone.
"But that's exactly what planning is about," he said eventually, shaking his head. "That's why we have Plan A, Plan B—sometimes the entire alphabet. You need backups."
He turned back to the laptop.
"I'll tell Onyx that I've made my decision," Dwight said, fingers hovering above the keyboard.
"And it's final."
He began typing again.
"Dear Onyx, I'll have to refuse the reconsideration..." he murmured as his fingers moved.
My jaw tightened slightly.
Not noticeable.
Just enough that I felt it.
No, He's not repeating a year. I'm not letting that happen.
Not if I can do something about it.
And honestly...
Watching him earlier today—standing there like someone had pulled the power cable out of his brain in the middle of the presentation—
Yeah.
That had been extremely irritating.
Because Onyx wasn't supposed to look like that.
I could leave it alone.
Dwight had already made his decision.
It wasn't my problem.
But...
Tch.
I leaned back again and casually crossed one leg over the other.
"Hey," I said.
Dwight glanced up briefly.
"Do you remember that time you were about to drop out of the uni?" I asked.
He paused mid-keystroke.
"Back when you couldn't even pay your tuition," I added, a faint smirk slipping in, "and your scholarship got dropped because basketball mattered more than your GPA?"
Dwight blinked once.
"Yeah, I'll never forget the day you helped me with the finances," he said slowly. "That's why—even if your personality sucks—I'm still grateful to you." He paused for a moment, then asked, "Why?"
I tilted my head slightly.
"Remember when I told you to pay it forward?"
He stopped typing completely this time.
Then he looked at me.
Really looked at me.
"...Now's the time," I said, giving a small nod.
For a moment, Dwight just stared.
Then he slowly leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.
A smirk appeared on his face.
"You really haven't changed," he said.
I returned the smirk.
"I change," I said lightly.
Then I shrugged.
"...depends on who it's for."
End of Chapter 39