An Accident, A Meeting.

Chapter 33: An Accident, A Meeting

I wasn't supposed to be here.

Roward Academy was a place for people who mattered.

People with futures. People with money.

Me? I was just a guy trying to make it through the day without getting crushed under debt, exhaustion, or both.

But life had a way of pulling me into places I didn't belong.

It started with a simple delivery job-nothing shady, just a last-minute gig running supplies for a local contractor.

They were doing some kind of maintenance work on one of the school's back buildings, and since they were short on hands, they paid me a little extra to haul some stuff over.

Easy money. No questions. In and out.

At least, that was the plan.

The rain had just stopped when I stepped onto campus, and I had to admit-Roward was something else. Even with puddles reflecting the overcast sky, the place looked more like a luxury estate than a school. Wide stone paths. Perfectly manicured gardens. Buildings that didn't just look expensive-they felt expensive.

And the people?

Well.

They all looked like they belonged.

I kept my head down, hands shoved in my hoodie pockets, walking fast like I had a purpose. The faster I got this over with, the better.

But then-

I almost ran straight into someone.

"Whoa-!"

She took a step back, blinking up at me.

And for a second, neither of us moved.

She wasn't what I expected.

Most Roward kids had a certain look-polished, distant, the kind of rich that made it obvious they didn't care about people like me.

But her?

She looked... tired.

Dark hair, sharp eyes, wearing a uniform that probably cost more than everything I owned combined. But there was something in her face, something in the way she stood.

Like she didn't want to be here, either.

She frowned slightly, looking me up and down. "You're not a student here."

It wasn't a question.

I exhaled, rubbing the back of my neck. "Yeah, no shit."

Silence.

She didn't seem offended, which was weird.

I shifted my weight. "Look, I'm just-" I motioned vaguely to the bag slung over my shoulder. "Delivery guy. Wrong place, wrong time."

She crossed her arms, head tilting slightly. "What kind of delivery?"

"Construction supplies. Some maintenance work going on in one of your buildings, I think."

Her gaze flicked past me, toward the path I came from. "Weird. Didn't hear anything about that."

I shrugged. "Yeah, well. Not my problem."

Another pause.

Most people would've left by now.

But she didn't.

Instead, she glanced at my hand.

At the cigarette still tucked between my fingers, unlit.

"You know that doesn't work, right?"

I blinked. "Huh?"

She pointed up-at the sky, still heavy with gray clouds, at the damp air clinging to everything.

"The rain," she said flatly. "You can't light a cigarette in this weather."

We had this exact conversation before

Was what I wanted to say but I kept my mouth shut. She probably forgot about me, a insignificant existence.

I huffed a small, dry laugh. "Yeah, no shit."

"Then why are you holding it?"

"Why are you asking?"

She didn't answer right away. Instead, she stepped a little closer, studying me like I was some kind of puzzle.

"You're not afraid of me," she said suddenly.

I frowned. "Should I be?"

Her lips pressed together. "Most people are."

Now that was interesting.

I let my gaze drift over her again, taking in the way she held herself-straight-backed, controlled, like she was always on guard.

"Yeah?" I mused. "Well. I'm not most people."

Something flickered in her expression. Not quite a smile, but close.

"Clearly," she muttered.

Another silence.

This time, I was the one who broke it.

"Alright, serious question." I held up the cigarette. "What are the chances I can bum a light off one of you rich kids?"

She snorted. "Zero."

"Figures."

She glanced around, as if checking to see if anyone was watching, then sighed.

"Follow me."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Just shut up and follow me."

I hesitated.

Then, because I had nothing better to do, I did.

She led me a little off the main path, past one of the side buildings, to a spot where the wind wasn't so bad. Then-before I could ask what the hell we were doing-she pulled out a silver lighter.

I stared.

"You serious?"

She flicked it open. A tiny flame danced to life.

I smirked. "Didn't take you for a smoker."

"I'm not," she said. "Just... used to other people doing it."

Something about the way she said it made me wonder.

But I didn't push.

Instead, I leaned in, shielding the cigarette with my hand as I lit it.

I took a slow drag, exhaling. The burn in my lungs wasn't comforting, exactly. But it was something.

She watched me, arms crossed. "So?"

I raised an eyebrow. "So what?"

"Did it help?"

I thought about that for a second.

Then shrugged. "Not really."

She shook her head. "Thought so."

More silence.

Then, out of nowhere-

"What's your name?" she asked.

I exhaled smoke, watching it disappear into the cold air.

"Ryuga."

She nodded slightly. "Ryo."

I studied her for a moment, then smirked.

"Fitting."

Her eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I just shrugged.

She huffed. "You're annoying."

"And you're still talking to me."

Another pause.

Then, finally-she sighed.

"Yeah," she admitted. "I guess I am."

And just like that-

Something shifted.

Nothing major. No dramatic moment. No sudden realization.

Just a tiny thread.

A connection.

The first spark of something different.