The campus looked different in the afternoon.
Less serious.
Less academic.
More… alive.
Colorful paper lanterns were being tied between trees. Stalls were half-built with wooden frames. Someone tested speakers near the main lawn and accidentally blasted music too loud, earning groans from nearby professors.
The Kelvora Central Festival was only five days away.
Which meant chaos.
"Careful! That banner's upside down!"
"It's not upside down—it's modern art!"
"That's not how letters work, genius!"
Lior stood on a small ladder, taping the corner of a poster while trying not to laugh.
He liked days like this.
No pressure.
No strange stares.
Just everyone equally stressed.
"Hold it straight," he called down.
"I am holding it straight!" Tomas argued, wobbling the ladder on purpose.
"If I fall, I'm haunting you."
"Fair."
Mireo passed by carrying paint buckets. "If you two die, who's covering my café shift?"
"…Okay don't fall," Tomas corrected quickly.
Lior snorted.
These were his people.
Messy. Loud. Broke. Normal.
Nothing like polished boardrooms and silent drivers.
And honestly—
he preferred sweating under the sun with tape stuck to his fingers.
The literature club stall wasn't fancy.
Just a small booth for poetry readings, secondhand books, and handwritten letters people could exchange anonymously.
But Lior liked the idea.
Simple.
Personal.
"Hey, scholarship boy!"
He turned.
A girl with short curly hair waved at him.
Sena, journalism major. Too curious for her own good.
"You're good with handwriting, right?" she asked. "We need someone to write the display quotes. Mine looks like a doctor's prescription."
"That's because you rush everything."
"Exactly. So you do it."
She shoved a marker into his hand.
Lior sighed but sat down anyway.
As he wrote neat lines across the board, students gathered around.
Someone read aloud quietly.
"'Some meetings change nothing… some change everything.'"
"…That's kind of nice," Sena said.
Lior shrugged. "Just something I thought of."
But for some reason—
his mind flashed to grey eyes again.
Annoying.
Very annoying.
Across campus, near the parking area—
a familiar black car waited.
Engine off.
Windows tinted.
Out of place.
Like a shadow among sunlight.
Inside, Kaizen watched through the glass.
Not suspiciously.
Just… observing.
Students running around.
Laughing.
Living freely.
A world he'd never really had.
His gaze eventually found one person.
Lior.
Standing on a chair. Arguing with someone. Smiling without realizing.
Unaware of how bright he looked.
Kaizen's fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel.
"…You look happier here," he murmured to himself.
He didn't step out.
Didn't interrupt.
Just watched for a moment longer.
Then quietly drove away.
Evening came faster than expected.
And with it—
something heavier.
Alaric stood outside the Vale mansion gates.
The building looked less like a house and more like a museum.
Tall pillars.
Marble steps.
Cold lights lining the driveway.
Beautiful.
But not warm.
Never warm.
"…You okay?" Calix asked beside him.
Alaric nodded too quickly. "Yeah. It's just dinner."
Just dinner.
But dinners here were never simple.
They were evaluations.
Judgments.
Comparisons.
"You don't have to go alone," Calix said gently.
"I'll be fine."
"…Text me if you're not."
Alaric smiled softly. "I will."
Calix waited until the gates closed behind him before leaving.
Inside—
the air felt heavy.
Too quiet.
Too clean.
Too perfect.
Relatives sat around the long dining table.
All Alphas.
All sharp suits.
Sharp voices.
"Still studying art?" one uncle asked dryly.
"Yes, sir."
"What job does that even get you?"
Silence.
Another laugh.
"Waste of resources if you ask me."
"Should've been born Beta at least."
"Or stronger."
Each word small.
But cutting.
Alaric kept his head down.
He'd learned long ago—
silence hurt less than arguing.
Then—
a chair scraped loudly.
Everyone froze.
Kaizen had stood up.
He didn't raise his voice.
Didn't glare.
But the temperature dropped anyway.
"That's enough," he said calmly.
Just that.
And no one spoke again.
Because when Kaizen spoke—
people listened.
Always.
He placed food on Alaric's plate quietly.
"Eat," he said softly.
The gentleness in his tone didn't match the fear everyone else felt.
Only Alaric got that version of him.
"…Thanks, brother," Alaric whispered.
Kaizen didn't reply.
But he stayed seated beside him the whole dinner.
Like a wall.
Like protection.
Like he always had.
Later that night—
Lior lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling fan spinning slowly.
Muscles tired.
Hands sore from setting up stalls.
But his chest felt oddly light.
Today had been good.
Simple.
Fun.
He liked days like this.
Then his phone buzzed.
Alaric:
Dinner survived. Barely. Want to skip classes tomorrow and get coffee?
Lior smiled.
Lior:
Only if you're paying.
Alaric:
Rude.
He put the phone down.
Closed his eyes.
Outside, the city lights flickered.
Somewhere far away—
in a large silent mansion—
Kaizen stood by his window, looking toward the distant glow of the college district.
Two different worlds.
Miles apart.
Yet slowly—
almost unknowingly—
their paths kept pulling closer.
Like threads tightening.
Like something inevitable.