A dull ache throbbed in Yuna's palm, a phantom reminder of yesterday's shove. She traced the faint bruise there, a small, dark splotch against her skin. Morning sunlight streamed through the tall classroom windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air, but her mood remained overcast.
Students chattered, their voices a low hum of anticipation for the day's first lesson. Professor Thorne, a kindly woman with spectacles perched on her nose, was already at the front, arranging her notes. Yuna tried to focus, to push aside the lingering sting of Ren's contempt.
Suddenly, the classroom door creaked open. Every head snapped towards the sound. A hush fell, heavy and immediate, like a physical weight. Ren stood framed in the doorway, his dark uniform immaculate, his gaze sweeping over the room with an almost arrogant indifference.
His presence commanded attention. Even Professor Thorne paused, her hand hovering over a textbook. A few students near the door visibly flinched, some stammering out apologies for imaginary infractions. Beijing, seated a few rows ahead, merely smirked, a subtle challenge in his eyes.
"Mr. Kyo," Professor Thorne finally managed, her voice a little too high. "You're late. Again."
Ren didn't offer an excuse. He merely walked to his usual seat in the back, his movements fluid and unhurried, a silent dismissal of her words. He settled into his chair, propping a foot on the desk beside him, an open challenge to authority. The professor sighed, a sound barely audible, and resumed her lecture, her composure a little more brittle than before.
Moments later, she clapped her hands together, a sudden, sharp sound. "Alright, class, listen up! Today, we're starting our semester-long research projects. You'll be working in pairs."
Groans and excited whispers filled the room. Yuna's stomach fluttered. Group projects were always a gamble. Would she be paired with someone who actually wanted to work, or someone who'd leave her to do everything?
Professor Thorne began rattling off names. "...Lee and Min-jun... Sooyoung and Junho..."
Yuna gripped her pen tighter. She hoped for Riko, but her best friend was already paired. Her turn approached. She held her breath.
"...And finally, Yuna Hayashi and Ren Kyo."
The name echoed in the sudden silence. Yuna’s head snapped up. Ren? Her? A wave of disbelief, then a strange flicker of resolve, washed over her. Everyone stared, first at her, then at Ren, then back at her, as if expecting her to burst into tears or cower under her desk.
Ren, meanwhile, simply tilted his head, his dark eyes locking onto hers. He didn't look angry, or even annoyed. There was something else there, a flicker of curiosity, perhaps, or a challenge. He was waiting for her reaction. He expected her to crumble.
Gritting her teeth, Yuna offered him a small, determined smile. It wasn't a smile of joy, but one of defiance. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. She met his gaze, holding it steady, refusing to look away.
Ren’s expression remained unreadable, but his eyes narrowed fractionally. Her smile, she knew, was a shield, a 'locker face' she used to hide the fear, the hurt. She wondered if he saw through it, or if he was simply intrigued by the unexpected lack of intimidation.
---
Later that afternoon, the library was a quiet haven. Yuna was searching for a specific historical text for their project. Ren hadn't spoken a word to her about it, merely jotted down the topic on a slip of paper and shoved it onto her desk before disappearing.
She navigated the narrow aisles, her fingers tracing the spines of ancient books. The section on ancient civilizations was tucked away in a dimly lit corner, surrounded by towering shelves that stretched to the ceiling. A chill prickled her arms. This part of the library felt forgotten, rarely visited.
Reaching for a book on a high shelf, Yuna stretched, her fingers barely brushing the dusty cover. She stood on her tiptoes, a little off-balance. Her hand slipped. A stack of old, forgotten boxes, precariously balanced on the top of the adjacent shelf, began to wobble.
Her eyes widened. The boxes were large, heavy-looking, filled with what sounded like old records and maps. They swayed, then tilted, a slow-motion avalanche about to descend. She froze, a gasp catching in her throat, her feet rooted to the spot.
Just as the first box began to topple, a strong hand clamped around her arm. A blur of dark uniform flashed beside her. Ren. With a guttural grunt, he shoved her hard, sending her stumbling a few feet away. She landed awkwardly, a dull thud against the worn carpet.
Crash! The boxes tumbled, their contents scattering across the floor with a deafening clatter. Old scrolls unfurled, brittle maps tore. Dust exploded into the air, making her cough. Yuna blinked, disoriented, her heart hammering against her ribs.
She looked up, scrambling to her feet. Ren stood amidst the wreckage, a grimace twisting his features. He was rubbing his shoulder, his jaw clenched tight. His eyes, usually so cold, held a flicker of something she couldn't quite decipher—a raw, unguarded intensity that vanished as quickly as it appeared.
He caught her staring. His expression immediately hardened, morphing back into his usual mask of indifference. He kicked a crumpled map with his foot, sending it sliding under a shelf. "Watch where you're going, clumsy. Idiot."
His words were sharp, cutting. They stung, erasing the brief moment of confusion and gratitude she'd felt. He had saved her, but now he was back to being the bully. It was like he regretted the action the moment it happened.
"I... I'm sorry," she mumbled, her cheeks flushing. The air still hung thick with dust. "Thank you, though."
He scoffed, a dismissive sound. "Don't thank me. You were about to make a mess that would've delayed my research. I didn't want to deal with the library staff."
He knelt, not to help, but to pick up a book that had fallen near his feet. His movements were precise, efficient. Yuna watched him, a knot of confusion tightening in her stomach. He looked for a moment like he genuinely cared, then he shut it down, hard.
Embarrassed, Yuna bent down, starting to gather the scattered pages and scrolls. Her hand brushed against something smooth. It was her sketch, the one she’d been working on during lunch, a quick charcoal drawing of the campus fountain. She must have dropped it when he pushed her.
It was crumpled, a dark footprint clearly visible on the delicate paper. Her heart sank a little. She tucked it into her bag, feeling a familiar ache of disappointment. She always tried to find beauty in things, even if others just saw a mess.
Ren stood up, dusted off his hands, and walked away without another word, leaving her alone amidst the scattered books and the lingering dust. The silence in the library felt even heavier after his departure. Yuna finished tidying, her movements slow, her thoughts a tangled mess.
---
Later that day, Yuna returned to her dorm room, the library incident still replaying in her mind. Her head felt heavy, a dull throb behind her eyes. She tossed her backpack onto her desk, then paused, noticing something out of place.
Resting neatly on top of her textbook, where her backpack usually lay, was her crumpled sketch. But it wasn't crumpled anymore. It was meticulously smoothed out, the creases barely visible, the charcoal lines untouched. A small, intricate paper crane, folded from crisp, white paper, sat perched on top of it. Its tiny wings were perfectly angled, as if caught mid-flight.
She picked it up, her fingers trembling slightly. The paper was cool beneath her touch. No one else knew she had dropped it. No one else would have bothered. Her breath hitched. Ren.
Later that day, Yuna found the crumpled sketch she'd dropped during the incident, meticulously smoothed out and resting on her desk, a small, intricate paper crane placed on top.