The café hummed with quiet morning chatter, the air rich with coffee and sugar. Steam curled above mugs, and sunlight pooled across the tiled floor — warm, still, deceptively calm.
Then the bell above the door chimed.
Jake strode in like he owned the place, sneakers squeaking against the tile, teal eyes lit with a little too much purpose for a Monday morning.
Their usual booth was already full — Raxian half-slouched into the corner, hood up over his blazer; Bruce calmly stirring his cocoa; Ava flicking through a digital textbook; Logan zoned out behind his headphones; and Marcus leaned back with that lazy half-smile that made it seem like he knew everything before anyone said it.
Six pairs of eyes flicked up as Jake stopped at their table.
"I've made a decision," he announced, planting both hands on the table with a thunk.
Ava squinted. "That tone never means anything good."
Jake ignored her. "We're not letting what happened to Sable slide. Not after yesterday. She deserves payback."
Bruce blinked, the only one who looked remotely surprised. "...Payback?"
"Yes," Jake said firmly, sliding into the booth beside Raxian. "Some covert justice mission. A sting operation. We track down who did it, and then—"
"—And then what?" Tess's voice cut from behind the counter. She was wiping down mugs, apron tied crisp over her uniform. Her brows arched, sharp.
Jake grinned. "Scare 'em straight."
"Uh-huh," Tess said flatly. "And this sudden crusade wouldn't have anything to do with the fact you want her to finally talk to you, right?"
Jake actually flinched. "Wh—what? No. This is about justice."
Bruce set down his mug. "It's also against her wishes."
Jake glanced at him.
Bruce's voice stayed even. "I thought about it last night. She made it clear she didn't want it reported. Dragging her into something she didn't ask for doesn't help her."
"Yeah, but doing nothing is worse," Jake shot back.
Marcus tapped his fingers against the table, eyes thoughtful. "There might be a middle ground. If we could quietly find out who did it… then she wouldn't have to be involved."
"That's still interfering," Bruce countered.
"Technically it's information gathering," Marcus said smoothly.
Logan finally tugged one ear of his headphones down. "Technically it's meddling." Then he slid them back on.
Ava didn't look up from her screen. "It's reckless," she said simply.
Jake huffed, leaning back. "Alright, alright, I get it. You're all cowards."
No one rose to the bait.
Raxian said nothing, fingers idly spinning his spoon. Guilt gnawed low in his chest. That glimpse of her in the hallway — the pulled sleeves, the faint scar — he'd noticed. And he'd stayed silent.
Maybe that had been what she wanted. Maybe.
Still, the thought wouldn't let him go.Not this time.
---
The plan — if you could even call it that — fizzled out under the weight of their own hesitation.
Sure, they could investigate.But did they really want to?
It wasn't just about risk. It was about her.Sable had made it clear she didn't want anyone getting involved.
So they didn't.
The group lingered at their usual table during break, the mood muted. Jake drummed restless fingers against the wood, eyes darting between them.
"Alright," he said suddenly, straightening up. "If no one else is gonna do anything, then I will."
Marcus arched a brow. "And do what, exactly?"
"Find out who jumped her," Jake declared. "You know. Track 'em down."
Logan didn't even look up. "And how do you plan to do that?"
Jake froze. "…I'll… start with… clues."
"Clues," Marcus repeated, amused.
"Like what? Footprints? A signed confession?" Bruce asked mildly.
Jake pointed at him. "Sarcasm noted."
Tess, passing by with a tray, gave a dry snort. "You don't even know where to start, do you?"
Jake hesitated. "…Not yet."
Marcus leaned back, grinning. "So, plan A: blind justice. Excellent."
Jake slumped a little. "Okay, fine. Maybe I don't have the how yet. But someone's gotta do something."
No one argued. But no one volunteered either.
For a while, they just sat there — Jake stewing, Marcus scrolling, Logan zoned out, Bruce thoughtful.
Ava, as always, sat straight-backed, calm, unreadable.
Until — without a word — she closed her tablet, slid it into her bag, and stood.
Jake's fingers froze mid-tap. "Uh. Where're you going?"
She didn't answer. Just pushed in her chair and walked out.
No one followed.No one even tried.
By the time lunch rolled around, the cafeteria buzz had swallowed the morning's tension. They'd almost convinced themselves to move on — that maybe Ava had too.
Until she came back.
She set her tray down, adjusted her blazer cuffs, and spoke like she was reciting a grocery list."Calen Ward. Henry Fenwick. Drew Keller. Second-years. Academic probation. They eat lunch near the south courtyard stairs."
Silence dropped like a stone.
Jake nearly choked on his drink. "You— what? How— how do you even know that?"
Ava peeled the lid off her yogurt with surgical precision. "They weren't difficult to find."
"That's not— that's not even the point!" Jake sputtered. "What did you do?"
She took a small, calm bite of yogurt. "Asked."
Marcus looked vaguely impressed. Bruce just blinked. Logan slowly lifted one headphone, caught the weight of their stares, and sighed.
"Don't look at me," he said flatly.
Jake gawked. "You're like— her handler or something!"
"I don't handle Ava," Logan said. "I just… let her do her thing."
And honestly, that was about as close to an explanation as anyone was going to get.
Because whatever she had done — a few quiet questions, a calm stare, that unnerving stillness that made people rattle themselves out — it worked.
It always did.
---
After lunch, the crew slipped out of the cafeteria in a loose formation, voices low.
Ava's directions had been exact — every word crisp, unflinching.And sure enough, when they rounded the corner to the south courtyard stairs, there they were.
Calen Ward. Henry Fenwick. Drew Keller.Leaning against the railing like they owned the air around them. Laughter loud, careless. Phones out.
Jake's grin sharpened like a knife."Well, well. Look at that. Nice detective work, Ava — now let the dealers handle these punks."
Marcus arched a brow. "The dealers?"
Jake jerked a thumb at himself. "Yeah. I'm the muscle."
Tess crossed her arms. "You're clearly not the brain."
That earned a small chuckle from Bruce. Even Logan cracked the faintest grin from behind his hoodie. Ava just sighed — softly, but unmistakably.
Bruce shook his head, though his lips twitched. "So… by 'muscle,' you mean 'handler,' right?"
"Exactly," Jake said confidently, rolling his shoulders. "Handler, enforcer — pick your poison."
"More like hazard," Raxian muttered.
"Details, details," Tess said breezily, already starting forward.
He strode forward. The others exchanged a look — Marcus half-sighing, Logan sliding one headphone off, Tess cracking her knuckles as she followed. Ava didn't speak, just trailed behind them with the quiet inevitability of a storm cloud.
They stopped a few feet away.
The laughter broke. Calen's smirk slipped."…Can we help you?"
Jake's tone came out too even — that particular kind of calm that meant trouble."Yeah. You can start by apologizing."
Henry snorted. "For what?"
Jake's jaw ticked. "For picking the wrong target."
Calen blinked, feigning confusion. "Don't know what you're talking about."
Marcus hummed, voice lazy. "That's interesting. Because we do."
Drew shifted, trying to stand taller. "Look, we don't—"
The words died.
Because Tess had already moved.One hand fisted in Calen's collar, the other slamming him back into the brick hard enough to rattle the railing.
The courtyard went dead silent.
Tess leaned in close, her voice a low, steady burn."You think hiding behind numbers makes you strong? Try that again, and see what happens when someone looks back."
Calen's throat bobbed. His hands twitched uselessly at his sides.
Henry took a step forward — and froze when Raxian's hand landed on the railing beside him.The look Raxian gave him wasn't loud. Wasn't theatrical.It was just sharp.Cold. Unblinking.
Henry stepped back.
Jake folded his arms, smirk sliding into something thinner."See, this is the part where you realize you're not invisible anymore."
Marcus muttered under his breath, "Bad cop, worse cop."
"Better cop," Jake corrected.
"Questionable," Marcus replied.
Ava's voice cut through, soft but surgical. "Next time you think about starting something, remember this conversation."Her gaze locked on Calen, calm and disarming. "And remember how quickly we found you."
That one landed. Drew's expression faltered — unease creeping in.
Tess finally released Calen, shoving him back a step. "That's your one warning."
No one said a word.No bravado. No comeback.Just silence.
Bruce exhaled quietly, tension loosening from his shoulders. "Alright. Let's go."
They turned as one, footsteps echoing against stone.
Behind them, the three boys didn't move.Didn't speak.
And Raxian — last to leave — threw one last look over his shoulder, eyes cold as steel.Just long enough to make sure they saw him see.
Then he walked.
---
The six of them walked away from the stairwell in a loose formation, footsteps echoing off the concrete.Behind them, Calen, Henry, and Drew stayed frozen where they stood — pale and stiff like cornered prey.
Jake stuffed his hands in his pockets, glancing over his shoulder with a satisfied grin."Remind me to never piss you off," he said to Tess. "Well, more than usual. You get terrifying when you're mad."
Tess rolled her eyes. "That was nothing. Just making sure they got the message."
"Message was loud and clear," Marcus said smoothly. "If Tess ever grabs my shirt like that, I'm transferring schools."
Ava gave the faintest smirk. Logan just shook his head, one headphone dangling."Why are we even doing this?" he asked flatly. "She's not part of our group."
"Because," Marcus replied, "aside from Jake's eternal crusade to make her talk—"
Jake pointed at him. "Hey—'crusade' makes it sound obsessive—"
"—someone had to do something," Marcus finished. "Call it justice. Karma. Whatever."
His gaze slid to Raxian at the center of their cluster. "Right?"
Raxian didn't answer. His jaw was tight, eyes far away.
Jake elbowed him. "Hey. What's up with you? You've barely said a word since yesterday."
"Nothing," Raxian muttered.
"Mmhm." Jake tilted his head. "Sure it's not 'cause you're secretly touched by our heroic little crusade? Maybe tearing up inside—"
"Jake."
The word landed sharp.
Jake froze mid-smirk.
Raxian's hand clenched — then slammed into the wall beside him.The dull thud snapped through the hall. Everyone stopped.
For a moment, he just stood there — shoulders tense, breath uneven, eyes fixed on the floor.Then, low and tight: "I saw it."
Bruce blinked. "…Saw what?"
"In the hallway. That day."Raxian's voice was hoarse now, stripped down to something raw."Her arm. She tried to hide it, but—" He swallowed hard. "There was a scar. I saw it. And I—"His jaw locked. "I didn't say anything."
The silence after hit heavier than the slam.
Even Jake's grin faltered.
Raxian exhaled sharply, stepping back from the wall like waking from a daze.He flexed his hand, knuckles red, then slung his bag over his shoulder and walked off without another word.
"Rax—" Jake started, but he was already gone.
They watched him disappear around the corner.
Tess folded her arms, quieter now. "He's been… distant lately. Ever since that promo loss. Guess that was the day he skipped lunch."
Jake's mouth curled into a lopsided grin — though this time it didn't quite reach his eyes."Ohhh, so that's it," he said, half-teasing, half-pouting. "Rax has been sneaking around, huh? Secret little rendezvous with the mysterious Sable girl— the same girl who won't even look at me when I say hi—?"
Smack.
Tess dropped her hand back to her side. "Knock it off."
"Ow—okay, okay!" Jake rubbed his arm, scowling playfully. "I'm just saying! Kinda funny how he gets the sudden impactful hallway encounter and I get the cold shoulder!"
Marcus sighed. "Or, wild idea, he's just stressed and you're being an idiot."
Jake shot him a finger gun. "Yeah, well. Idiocy builds character. Jealousy builds… motivation."
Logan snorted quietly. "You sure that's what you're building?"
Jake ignored him, muttering under his breath, "Man, I've been trying for over a week… guy just broods once and suddenly he's the chosen one."
Ava shut her phone with a click — sharp enough to cut through the noise.
oise.
"Enough."
The group quieted. Ava didn't speak often, but when she did, people listened.
She crossed her arms, gaze steady. "Those three? Calen, Henry, Drew? They didn't plan that alone."
Bruce frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Think about it," Ava said. "Three second-years on probation. Not exactly masterminds. That ambush wasn't random — it was organized. Someone put them up to it."
Jake's grin vanished. "You're saying someone hired them?"
"I'm saying someone wanted her gone," Ava replied flatly.
Marcus' eyes narrowed. "From the tournament."
Logan pushed his headphones down around his neck. "Hold up. You think this was about EGO?"
"Exactly," Marcus said. "Sable's been whispered about since day one. 'Prodigy,' 'legend,' whatever you want to call it. And the school tournament's next week."
Ava nodded once. "They didn't just want to scare her. They wanted to sideline her."
The words hung in the air, heavy and cold.
Jake let out a slow breath. "That's… messed up."
For once, no one disagreed.Even Tess's glare softened — not with pity, but with quiet, simmering fury.
---
That night, Raxian lay sprawled on his bed, eyes tracing the cracks in the ceiling.
The room was quiet — just the soft hum of his PC tower in sleep mode and the faint city noise leaking through the half-open window.Too quiet for how loud his thoughts were.
He exhaled, one arm draped over his forehead.
It was weird.She'd only ever spoken to him once. Barely a handful of words. And yet somehow, Jake had decided they were her self-appointed bodyguards — her "investigators," like this was some group mission.
Bruce finding her in the courtyard yesterday — bruised, silent — that was supposed to be the end of it. They'd helped. Done their part. Moved on.
So why did it still stick with him?
He rolled onto his side, staring at the faint glow of his monitor across the room.
It wasn't like it was any of his business. She didn't owe them anything. Didn't even want their help.
And yet…
He couldn't stop wondering.Where she was.If she was okay.If she was sitting somewhere like this — awake, staring at the ceiling, pretending she didn't care as much as she did.
Raxian sighed, dragging a hand through his hair.
This shouldn't matter.But it did.
And that bothered him more than anything else.
Even more than EGO — the game that had consumed him for as long as he could remember.
It was strange. He'd spent years chasing that climb, losing sleep over numbers, over streaks, over ghosts.But now… all of it felt distant. Like background noise.
There was something about her.
Sable — the girl who barely spoke, who kept her guard higher than anyone he'd ever met.She shouldn't have mattered. Not to him. Not like this.
And yet, somehow, she did.
He turned onto his back again, eyes tracing the ceiling cracks like constellations.Maybe Jake was right — maybe he was getting soft.Or maybe he just couldn't stand seeing someone else break the way he almost had.
---
The next morning, Raxian didn't bother getting up when his alarm went off.
His uniform hung untouched on the back of his chair.The ceiling felt heavier than usual.
He stared at it for a long while, then reached for his phone.
"Not feeling great," he texted the group chat.Technically true. Just not the way they'd assume.
Downstairs, he could hear his mom moving through her usual routine — soft footsteps, kettle whistling, the quiet rhythm of someone who'd long stopped expecting conversation.
She knocked on his door once around noon."You're staying home?"
"Yeah," he called back, voice flat.
A pause. Then a simple, "Alright."
That was it.No lecture. No fuss. Just quiet acceptance.
Raxian rolled over, phone still in hand.He wasn't scrolling. Just staring at the dark screen, watching his reflection blink back.
He didn't even have her number.Didn't know where she lived.Didn't know anything, really.
But she'd been on his mind ever since Bruce found her in the courtyard.
It was strange — caring about someone who'd barely spoken to him.Even stranger, maybe, that he couldn't just shake it off.
He almost laughed at himself. Almost.
Instead, when the afternoon sun dipped low across his blinds, he opened another thread — Raze.
Raxian: yo. u free?
Raze: yeah. campus just ended. what's up?
Raxian: need to talk. café?
Raze: the usual one?
Raxian: yeah.
He stared at the screen a second longer, then shoved the phone into his pocket and pulled on a hoodie.
If anyone could help him make sense of this knot in his chest, it was Raze.Or at least, he hoped so.
---
The low hum of monitors and the faint clack of keyboards filled the gaming café — their old haunt, washed in flickering blue light and the smell of stale ramen and dust.Raxian sat slouched in his chair, hood half-up, staring into the faint swirl of steam rising from his untouched coffee. Across from him, Raze lounged with lazy posture and steady eyes, a sketchbook tucked beside him, cup resting loosely in his hand.
For a while, neither spoke.Only the quiet pulse of neon and the soft whir of fans filled the space between them.
Then Raze tilted his head. "So. You didn't show up today."
Raxian didn't look up. "Didn't feel like it."
"Mm." Raze took a slow sip. "And this sudden case of 'didn't feel like it' wouldn't have anything to do with a certain missing classmate, right?"
Raxian blinked, then frowned. "What?"
"C'mon," Raze said lightly. "You vanish the same day she does. It's cute, honestly. Almost romantic."
Raxian gave him a flat look. "Don't start."
Raze smirked — just for a second — before the humor faded. "So she's still not back?"
Raxian hesitated, then shook his head. "No. Bruce found her two days ago. Said it wasn't… small."
Raze's fingers drummed once against his cup. "Didn't sound like it would be."
Raxian leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "I should've stopped it."
Raze blinked. "Stopped what?"
"I saw it coming. Not the fight — just… something." His voice dropped. "She was off. In the hallway. I knew something was wrong, and I just—did nothing."
Raze set his cup down with a quiet clink. "You didn't know. You guessed. That's not guilt, that's hindsight."
"Still feels the same," Raxian muttered.
"She wouldn't have told you anyway," Raze said gently. "Doesn't seem like the type."
Raxian glanced up. "You say that like you know her."
Raze hesitated — then shrugged. "Ran into her. Couple nights ago."
Raxian straightened. "When?"
"The night it happened," Raze said simply. "She was walking. Alone. Looked like she just needed air."
Raxian's brow furrowed. "She was out after that? Just—wandering?" His voice tightened. "Her parents didn't care?"
Raze gave a soft, humorless laugh. "You think they'd notice?"
Raxian went quiet. His glare faltered into something heavier — guilt, frustration, a quiet ache he didn't want to name. "...Guess not."
Silence lingered, threaded with the faint mechanical hum of machines.
Then Raxian looked up again. "And what about you? Being out that late—" His eyes narrowed slightly. "You're not doing that old shit again, are you?"
Raze's smirk flickered — almost guilty, but not quite. "Nah. College is just… a lot. Needed air too."
Raxian studied him — the faint shadows under his eyes, the casual calm stretched thin around the edges — and finally sighed. "Alright. If you say so."
"I say so." Raze leaned back, letting the booth creak under his weight. Then, after a pause, his voice softened. "She'll be okay, y'know. People like her — they don't break. They bend. They hold it in until it stops shaking. And when they come back, they come back sharper."
Raxian stared down at his hands, then up at him. "…You really think so?"
"I know so," Raze said simply. "You don't survive that kind of pressure by accident."
The words sat heavy between them — but not crushing. More like an anchor.
Raxian let out a slow breath, leaning back in his seat. "...Thanks."
Raze smirked faintly, gaze drifting to the glowing monitors. "Anytime. Just—next time, maybe try showing up instead of skipping."
Raxian snorted. "You sound like my mom."
"Lillian's right more often than you."
"Debatable."
The banter was quiet, easy — and for the first time all day, Raxian felt something in his chest unclench.
They lapsed back into silence, the hum of PCs and faint glow of screens washing over them.
Two friends, sharing space — one still learning how to let go, and the other, how to hold steady.
Then Raze nudged his cup aside, glancing at the open terminals across the row. "C'mon. One game."
Raxian blinked. "Now?"
Raze gave him a look — half teasing, half challenge. "Yeah, now. You've been sitting in your own head all day. Time to climb out."
Raxian stared at him for a beat. "...You serious?"
"When am I not?"
"That's—actually—don't answer that."
Raze just grinned and started booting up EGO, his fingers moving with that old, familiar rhythm. The screen's glow flickered across his face as he logged in. "Queue with me."
Raxian hesitated. "What are you even playing?"
"Support."
Raxian stared at him. "You hate Support."
"I do," Raze said easily, "but you're gonna duo bot with me, so we'll be unstoppable."
Raxian blinked. "...You know I only play mid, right?"
Raze just grinned. "Yeah. Time to expand your horizons."
"Expand my—Raze, I don't even own a marksman."
"Then we'll improvise."He clicked Lock In Singed before Raxian could argue, a soft click echoing like a challenge.
Raxian leaned back, muttering under his breath, "You're insane."
"Maybe," Raze said, still smiling. "But you're queueing anyway."
Raxian leaned back, eyeing him like he was out of his mind — and maybe he was — but something about the way Raze said it…He didn't argue. Didn't even sigh. Just locked in beside him.
Singed.Ekko.Botlane.
Raxian squinted at the screen. "We're trolling."
Raze cracked a grin. "We're innovating."
The loading screen blinked, then faded. They spawned into lane — chaos waiting, just like old times.
It was ridiculous from the start — Raze sprinting in with reckless confidence, Raxian grumbling through every flip and chase.But every time Raze flung some poor squishy over, Raxian was there — a blink, a rewind, a clean execution.Messy, improvised, fun.
And when the kill counter flashed across the screen — Double Kill! Allied Team Advantage! — Raxian didn't even realize he was smiling.
Not a grin. Just a flicker. Small. Real.
Raze saw it — didn't say a word, just leaned back with that quiet, knowing satisfaction.
Because this — the rhythm, the instinct, the laughter just under their breath — this was what it was supposed to be.Not pressure. Not expectations.Just the game.Just them.
Two old partners, back in sync — breaking the silence one chaotic botlane at a time.