Ray slouched in his chair, head drooping as the teacher droned on. His mind drifted, slipping into the memory that never left him.
The scent of rain clung to that night, the wind howling like a wounded beast against their tiny home. His parents' hushed voices filled the dimly lit room. His mother's fingers trembled as she clutched a small, intricate device—a locket, but not just any locket. A puzzle box. A key to something greater. Even then, Ray sensed its importance, though he couldn't understand why it filled her silver eyes with reverence and dread.
His father moved with uncharacteristic urgency, stuffing blueprints and documents into a battered leather satchel. His usual steadiness cracked; tension bled through every movement.
Then came the pounding at the door.
His father froze. His mother inhaled sharply.
"They've found us."
She knelt before him, pressing the locket into his tiny hands. Her grip was firm, urgent. "No matter what happens, keep this safe. Don't let them take it. Do you understand, Ray?"
He hadn't understood. Not really. But he nodded anyway.
The door burst open. A man in a pristine black suit stood in the doorway, his piercing golden eyes locking onto Ray. A cold sensation wrapped around his chest—then everything went dark.
CRACK.
Ray's head snapped up as Ms. K slammed her desk.
Ms. K stood at the front of the classroom, her presence commanding without needing a raised voice. Her dark purple hair, smooth and straight, was pulled into a high ponytail, the violet strands catching the light as she moved. It framed her sharp features—high cheekbones, a defined jawline, and piercing dark eyes that seemed to see through every excuse, every lie.
She wore a black blazer over a dark maroon blouse, the tailored fabric emphasizing her poised, no-nonsense demeanor. The sleeves were rolled up just enough to reveal faint scars tracing her forearms—silent remnants of battles she never spoke about. Her only accessories were a pair of small silver studs that gleamed subtly whenever she tilted her head. Simple, understated, yet somehow just as intense as the woman wearing them.
Before Ray could react, a book sailed through the air and smacked him in the face.
Laughter erupted around him. Groaning, Ray rubbed his forehead. "What the hell, Ms. K?"
She smirked. "Oops. My hand slipped."
Ray scowled. "Bullshit."
Without hesitation, she grabbed another book and launched it at him. It flew fast, sharp. As the book left her hand, a shimmering purple aura enveloped it, crackling like liquid lightning. The glow pulsed, casting an eerie shadow across the room as the book spun. Instincts kicked in—Ray's hand shot up, snatching it midair before it could collide with his face.
He exhaled and walked over to the shelf, placing it back where it belonged. As he turned to leave, he threw a glance over his shoulder.
"That was thrown with ill intentions, Ms. K."
His hand was already on the door handle when her voice sliced through the air. "Sit back down, Ray. You're not done yet."
He hesitated. There was a challenge in her tone, something that made him pause. With a sigh, he turned back and slumped into his seat.
The class had settled, but the air still crackled from the earlier chaos.
Ms. K didn't look up as she spoke, her pen gliding across the papers. But the way she held it, the way her gaze flickered toward him every so often—she wasn't letting this go.
"You may think I'm playing games, Ray," she said, voice calm in contrast to the storm of book-throwing moments ago, "but I assure you, everything has a reason. Every action is a test. Whether you realize it or not."
Ray shot her a look. "I don't know if 'test' is the right word."
Ms. K finally glanced up, a sharp glint in her eyes. "Do you think you're the only one here who's ever been tested?"
He didn't reply. But her words sat heavy on his chest.
She leaned back slightly, watching him. "You've got potential, Ray. Don't waste it."
Ray frowned. "Potential for what?"
For a moment, she was quiet, lips pressed together as if weighing what to say. Then, with a sigh, she dropped her gaze back to her desk.
"You'll find out soon enough."
Ray wasn't sure if she was being cryptic on purpose or if she simply didn't care to explain. But something about the way she said it made him feel like she wasn't talking about school.
Before he could push for more, the bell rang.
The usual shuffle of students packing up filled the room. Ms. K looked up one last time, her expression softer, though not quite kind.
"Next time, Ray, think carefully before you act. You might not always get a second chance."
Her words followed him as he stood. A warning? A challenge? He wasn't sure.
But he had other things to worry about. Like avoiding the inevitable detention that seemed to be following him around lately.
As he walked out the door, he caught a glimpse of her watching him. Something flickered across her face—concern? Intrigue?—but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.
The mystery of Ms. K, like so many others, would have to wait.
Ray strolled through the academy halls, hands shoved in his pockets. The school buzzed with life—students laughing, chatting, and showing off their abilities. He barely noticed. His mind was elsewhere.
Then—screams.
Ray turned just in time to see a girl sprinting down the hall, clutching something to her chest. Behind her, a grotesque, greasy-looking guy with stringy hair and an unhealthy sheen to his skin lunged after her.
"You took the last two brownies!" he howled, flinging globules of snot-like boogers from his elbows. The disgusting projectiles splattered against the walls with sickening wet thuds.
Ray clicked his camera instinctively, capturing the scene as the girl—Kate—scrambled to escape.
Without thinking, Ray darted forward, his camera swinging on its strap as he charged into the path of the grotesque man. He swung his leg around, delivering a swift, powerful kick to the guy's chest. The booger man flew back, slamming against the wall with a wet thud.
Ray stood over him, watching as the man groaned in dazed confusion. "You need a better hobby, man," Ray muttered.
Kate doubled over, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. Her heart still pounded from the chase, but her focus had shifted entirely to the boy standing in front of her.
Now that she wasn't running for her life, she could look at him. He stood casually, as if kicking a grown man across the hall was just another Tuesday. His dark brown hair was tousled and slightly messy, but not in a careless way—it suited him, as if he belonged in motion, always moving, never still. His features were sharp, but not harsh. Smooth skin, strong jawline, and—
Her breath hitched slightly when she met his eyes.
Hazel, but tinted with the lightest shade of blue. Not enough to be obvious at first glance, but now that she saw it, she couldn't unsee it. A strange, almost unreal combination. They seemed to shift under the light, flickering between warm gold and cool ice, like two colors fighting for dominance.
He arched a brow, breaking the moment. "You good?"
Kate quickly straightened, feeling the heat rise to her face. "Uh—yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."
To distract herself, she reached into her pocket and pulled out one of the brownies. "Here. Thanks for... You know, saving me from death by booger guy."
Thanks, I haven't eaten yet, said Ray.
Kate looked up in surprise, "Really? Lunch is almost over, you should hurry!"
His fingers brushed against hers. The contact was brief, insignificant—except it wasn't.
Because as he looked at her properly, something shifted in his expression.
His breath caught, his shoulders stiffened, and for a moment, his eyes darkened with something unreadable.
Like he was looking at a ghost.
He shook his head quickly. No, she's gone. Not possible.
But as Kate stood there, her eyes still searching him with gratitude and confusion, Ray couldn't stop staring at her. The sensation of déjà vu was so strong that it almost felt suffocating.