(Kael's POV)
Kael didn't scare easily.
He'd learned early on that fear was a performance, you could let it eat you alive, or you could make it entertaining. He always chose to be entertained.
So, no...he wasn't scared about last night. Not exactly.
But curious? Hell, yes.
Because whoever that hooded figure was, they hadn't just been some bored kid looking for a thrill. Their movements had been too deliberate. Too clean. And Riven...clam, calculating Riven—had thrown himself into the chase like he'd done it before, like it was some kind of play.
And that part bugged him.
By morning, campus was alive with theories.
Kael sat in the cafeteria, making circles in his coffee while Jordan paced beside the table like a conspiracy theorist in training.
Across the room, Riven walked in. He didn't look flustered, but Kael noticed the details, the way his gaze swept the cafeteria like he was examining the exits, the tightness in his jaw that wasn't there yesterday.
Kael didn't even hesitate. He grabbed his tray and made a seat for him.
"Morning, partner," he said, dropping into the seat across from Riven.
Riven didn't look up from his notebook. "Don't call me that."
"Fine," Kael said. "Co-investigator. Partner-in-heroics. Guy-who-runs-faster-than-a-normal-human-should."
That earned him a glance—just long enough for Kael to see the faintest sign of irritation mixed with something else.
"Why are you here?" Riven asked flatly.
Kael grinned. "Same reason I was there last night. You're interesting. And now this whole thing's interesting. It'd be a crime to ignore it."
He expected Riven to shut him down, but instead, Riven surprised him.
"They didn't take much," he said quietly, lowering his voice so the chatter around them wouldn't pick it up. "Just one file."
Kael leaned in. "You checked?"
Riven gave him a look that said, of course I checked.
"Student records from six years ago," he continued. "Specific year, specific section. Whoever it was knew exactly what they were looking for."
Kael leaned forward. "So not random."
"Not random," Riven agreed.
Kael leaned back, folding his arms. "Cool. Good for us."
"For us?"
"Well, yeah," Kael said, flashing a grin. "You think I'm walking away after I literally chased a guy across campus? We're in this together now. You can't shake me."
Riven sighed, flipping his notebook closed. "You're exhausting."
"And you're welcome," Kael said.
Kael wasn't one to sit still when there was a puzzle dangling in front of him. Later that afternoon, he found himself wandering past the journalism building again, telling himself he was just curious.
The janitor was sweeping near the entrance. Kael slowed his pace, adopting his best "harmless theater kid" smile.
"Scary night, huh?" he said casually.
The man snorted. "Scary doesn't cover it. Security cameras were wiped clean. No footage at all."
Kael blinked. "Wiped clean? Like… someone hacked them?"
"Something like that," the janitor said. "And they didn't get caught by a single alarm. Professionals, if you ask me."
Kael tilted his head. "But they left the window wide open. Doesn't that seem… sloppy?"
The janitor paused, leaning on his broom. "Or intentional. Maybe they wanted someone to see."
Kael walked away with that thought buzzing in his head.
He caught up with Riven after their journalism lecture through vigorous chasing.
"Hey," Kael said, falling into step beside him. "You think last night was a message?"
Riven didn't slow down. "No. I think it was a theft."
"Yeah, but it was a loud theft, too predictable" Kael said. "Broken window, obvious chase. It feels… theatrical."
Riven gave him a sidelong glance. "You think everything's theatrical."
"Well, yeah," Kael said, flashing a grin. "I'm literally a theater major. But you're telling me you didn't feel like we were supposed to notice?" Riven didn't answer, which meant Kael was onto something.
That evening, Kael was heading back to his dorm when movement near the building caught his eye.
A figure in gray—same hoodie as last night?—stood by the bulletin board, pinning something to it. Before Kael could call out, the figure turned and melted into the shadows, disappearing between buildings like smoke.
Kael jogged to the board and ripped off the paper.
It wasn't a flyer. It was a photograph.
A black-and-white image of the journalism storeroom, the same room they'd been in the night before. Scrached across the bottom in red ink were two words:
Not done yet.
Kael stared at it for a long moment, his pulse thrumming with equal parts adrenaline and anticipation.
Then he grinned, slipping the photo into his jacket pocket.
"Well," he murmured, "guess that answers everything."
Back in his dorm, Jordan was ranting about auditions, but Kael barely heard him. He was stretched out on his bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the last 24 hours.
Whoever this person was, they wanted attention. And Kael had a feeling they were going to get it.
He pulled out his phone, thumb over Riven's number. He hadn't actually saved it yet, but he'd memorized it from a group project sheet.
After a beat, he typed a message anyway:
> Found something. Meet me tomorrow. We're not done either.
He didn't expect Riven to reply.
But a few minutes later, his phone buzzed.
> Where?
Kael grinned. He was strangely amused with everything that's going on around him. The whole rush of excitement mixed with adrenaline made him feel like a predator. It was not confirmed that if he had been the predator or a prey in some scheme webbed by the one that's behind it. But one thing for sure. Entangled with Riven would make his life enjoyable.