The boys' dormitory was unusually loud for the middle of the night. A knot of students gathered outside Room 27, whispering, pointing, and shoving each other toward the door.
All because someone had seen a girl walk in.
Not just any girl—a beautiful one.
"You're kidding," one boy whispered.
"I swear on my bed sheets," said another. "She walked in with a bag. Who brings a bag unless she's staying?"
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
"She's staying the night?"
"With him?"
"In that guy's room?"
They all stared at the door in disbelief. Zane—the "no-power nobody," the "blindfold boy"—he was the last person they expected to have a girl over.
"Maybe he's actually a noble in disguise," one guessed.
"No, no. It's the blindfold. Girls love mysterious guys."
"Mysterious? He tripped over a bucket at lunch!"
The group leaned closer, trying to hear.
From inside came muffled voices.
"…anything??" Zane's voice.
Then a girl's laugh.
The hallway went dead silent.
"She laughed!" one boy hissed.
"While on his bed! You don't laugh like that unless—"
"Oh, gods, he's dangerous. He's the predator-in-disguise type!"
Just then, the door handle rattled. The boys scrambled against the walls.
The door creaked open.
Zane stood there, hair messy, blindfold slightly askew, and—most importantly—sweat dripping down his forehead.
"Oi," he muttered, waving lazily at the sea of faces. "What's with the circus? Go back to your rooms before the dorm warden catches you."
The boys froze. Then—someone at the back gasped.
Through the half-open door, they caught a glimpse.
A girl. Curled up comfortably on Zane's bed. Her hair spilling over the pillow.
The door shut with a soft thud.
The hallway exploded.
"He's sweating—he's literally sweating!"
"And she's on his bed—"
"No way. He already—"
"Don't say it! We're too young to hear this!"
By the end of the night, Room 27 wasn't just a dorm room.
It was a legend.