The university gates came into view, tall and unforgiving.
As Rhea stepped out of the car, Kane's voice echoed in her head not loud, not dramatic, but precise. The kind of warning that settled into bone.
Do not confuse remorse with change.
Do not let her near you.
If she approaches, you leave.
If she speaks, you do not answer.
Rhea adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder. Her face was calm. Too calm. The kind of stillness that came after something had already broken beyond panic.
Roin stepped beside her, instinctively matching her pace.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
Rhea nodded once. "Yes."
It was a lie, but an efficient one.
They walked forward together, blending into the early flow of students. Whispers still existed they always would but Rhea did not look around anymore. She had learned the cost of awareness.
Across the courtyard, Rina noticed first.
She stopped mid-sentence.
Her eyes fixed on the familiar figure moving through the crowd black clothing, straight posture, expression unreadable.
"That's her," Rina said under her breath.
Ling turned.
And saw Rhea.
The world did not stop but something inside Ling did.
Rhea was thinner. Paler. Composed in a way that felt deliberate rather than natural. She walked beside a man Ling did not recognize close enough to signal presence, distant enough to maintain boundaries.
Ling's chest tightened sharply.
She did not move.
Did not call out.
Did not step forward.
She only watched.
Rhea did not slow.
She did not glance sideways.
She did not flinch, hesitate, or betray even a fraction of awareness.
It was as if Ling did not exist.
They passed through the same space the same air and Rhea continued walking forward with Roin, her gaze fixed ahead, her pace steady.
No reaction.
No acknowledgment.
No collapse.
Nothing.
Rina inhaled slowly. "She saw you."
Ling swallowed. "No."
"Yes," Rina said quietly. "She just chose not to."
The words landed harder than any scream could have.
Ling's jaw clenched. Her fingers curled once at her side then relaxed. She forced them to.
"That's her right," Ling said. Her voice was steady, but only because she was holding it together by force. "I won't follow."
Jian and Rowen had noticed by now.
They said nothing.
They didn't need to.
Across the courtyard, Rhea felt it.
Not a pull.
Not a temptation.
A pressure like remembering an old injury when the weather changed.
She kept walking.
Roin glanced at her once, noticing the subtle tension in her shoulders.
"You don't have to—" he began.
"I know," Rhea said softly. "Just… keep walking."
And they did.
Behind them, Ling stood still among the moving crowd powerful once, feared once now reduced to being unseen by the only person who mattered.
——
The stadium roared outside.
Chants. Whistles. Boots striking concrete corridors.
Inside the university locker wing, the noise dulled into a distant pulse like a heartbeat heard underwater.
Ling had a private room.
She didn't go there.
She walked straight into the common locker room instead, shoulders tense, jaw set, eyes searching without admitting it.
And there she was.
Rhea stood near the far lockers, bag slung over one shoulder, head slightly lowered as she adjusted something with mechanical precision. She hadn't expected this place to be unsafe. She hadn't expected Ling here.
Time fractured.
Ling stopped breathing for half a second.
Then instinct overrode restraint.
She crossed the space in three strides.
Before Rhea could turn fully, Ling's arm came up not violent, firm, absolute. She pressed Rhea back against the cold metal lockers, one hand braced beside her shoulder, the other blocking escape.
The sound echoed.
Rhea froze.
Ling leaned in just enough for her voice to land low, controlled, shaking beneath discipline.
"It's my match," Ling said. "Isn't my lucky charm going to support me?"
Her attempt at teasing shattered the moment it left her mouth.
Because Rhea's eyes filled instantly.
She did not look at Ling.
Not once.
Her gaze dropped to the floor, lips trembling, breath turning uneven as memory slammed into her like a wave.
Morning.
The robe.
The smile that wasn't warmth.
This was revenge.
I won.
Live with it.
Her hands came up weakly, pressing against Ling's chest not to fight, just to create space.
"Please," Rhea whispered. "Don't."
Ling felt it then.
The tremor.
The way Rhea's body recoiled before her mind could process.
Ling's voice broke. "Rhea—"
Rhea pushed harder, panic bleeding through restraint. "Move."
Ling didn't.
Instead, she lowered her head, forehead almost touching Rhea's hair, her grip loosening but still there as if letting go completely might shatter her.
"I'm sorry," Ling said hoarsely. "I shouldn't have— I know I shouldn't have—but please, just listen to me."
Rhea's breathing fractured. Her chest rose sharply, then stalled.
"No," Rhea said, louder now, shaking. "No, you don't get to ask that."
Ling's hands slid down to Rhea's wrists, not restraining holding like someone afraid the ground might give way.
"I need to say it," Ling pleaded. "I was wrong. I was cruel. I—"
Rhea's composure collapsed.
Her head snapped up, eyes finally meeting Ling's flooded, wild, destroyed.
"STOP!" Rhea shouted.
The word ripped out of her chest, echoing off the lockers.
Her hands shoved Ling back with sudden strength. Ling stumbled half a step, stunned — not by force, but by the sound of Rhea's voice breaking open.
"You don't get to touch me," Rhea cried. "You don't get to joke. You don't get to stand this close like nothing happened."
Her voice cracked, memories spilling uncontrollably now.
"You stood there," Rhea said, tears streaming freely, "and told me my body was part of your revenge. You watched me break. You left."
Ling's face drained of color.
"I hear your voice every morning," Rhea continued, shaking violently. "I hear it when I wake up. I hear it when I breathe. And now you come here— before a match— and ask if I'm your lucky charm?"
Ling's knees felt weak.
She whispered, "I didn't know it would—"
Rhea laughed once broken, sharp. "You knew. That's why you did it."
Silence crashed down.
Ling's hands fell to her sides.
"I'm asking for forgiveness," Ling said, barely audible. "Not today. Not now. Just— someday."
Rhea wiped her face angrily, breathing hard.
"There is no someday," she said. "Not for us."
She stepped past Ling, shoulder brushing her arm not gently, not cruelly. Final.
As she reached the door, Rhea stopped once, without turning.
"Don't come near me again," she said. "Not here. Not anywhere."
Then she left.
The locker room door closed with a hollow clang.
Ling stood alone among the lockers, the roar of the crowd flooding back into her ears.
Rhea didn't stop walking until the sounds of the stadium dulled into nothing.
Her steps slowed only when her body gave up on pretending it could still carry her weight.
She turned into an empty corridor near the auxiliary stairwell unused, silent, concrete walls cold with shadow. The door shut behind her with a soft click.
And then she folded.
She slid down the wall, knees pulling in instinctively, arms wrapping around herself like she was trying to keep something from spilling out. Her breath came sharp, uneven, painful each inhale scraping her chest.
Tears fell immediately.
Not quietly.
Not politely.
Her shoulders shook violently as sobs tore out of her throat, raw and uncontrolled. Her face pressed into her palms as if hiding from memory might erase it.
This was revenge.
I won.
Live with it.
Her body rocked forward.
"I don't want to live," Rhea whispered, voice barely holding together. "I hate it. I hate everything."
The words didn't sound dramatic.
They sounded exhausted.
Footsteps stopped nearby.
Roin had followed without thinking.
He stood a few feet away at first not intruding, not rushing just witnessing the collapse he had sensed all morning. The confident distance, the silence, the numb obedience it all made sense now.
He crouched slowly in front of her, careful, measured.
"Rhea," he said quietly.
She didn't look up.
She shook her head, tears soaking her sleeves. "Please don't ask me anything."
"I won't," Roin replied immediately.
That made her cry harder.
Her hands clenched into fists against her legs, knuckles whitening as her breath stuttered.
"I feel so stupid," she said through sobs. "I thought I was safe. I really thought… I was safe."
Roin's jaw tightened.
He didn't touch her yet.
He waited because this wasn't the kind of pain that could be interrupted.
"I gave everything," Rhea continued, words spilling now, broken, jagged. "I trusted her with parts of me I never let anyone near. And she turned it into a weapon."
Her head dropped forward, forehead resting against her knees.
"I hate waking up," she said. "I hate breathing. I hate that I still feel her."
Roin moved then.
He sat beside her not close enough to trap, not far enough to abandon. His presence was steady, grounded.
"You don't have to explain anything," he said. "You don't owe me clarity. Or strength."
Rhea's breathing hitched.
"I want to die," she whispered suddenly, terrified. "Because I don't know how to live like this."
Roin swallowed hard.
"I hear you," he said instead. "And you're not alone right now. That's all I can promise."
Her sobs softened into quiet, broken gasps.
Roin reached out slowly deliberately giving her time to pull away if she wanted.
She didn't.
His hand rested lightly on her shoulder. Nothing more.
Rhea leaned into the wall, eyes unfocused, tears still slipping down her face.
"I don't want her near me," she said faintly. "But she's everywhere. Even when she's not there."
Roin nodded once. "Then I'll stay between you and the noise. For now."
She didn't respond.
She just cried emptied, hollowed, alive only because her body hadn't stopped yet.
Ling found them.
Not by sound, by instinct.
Her steps slowed the moment she saw Rhea on the floor, shoulders shaking, face buried, and Roin crouched too close. Too present. Too protective.
Something dark snapped loose inside her chest.
She moved without thinking.
"Rhea."
Roin looked up first.
Ling didn't stop.
Roin stood instinctively, placing himself between them aggressive.
That was enough.