Night always brought clarity. Or at least, that's what I told myself.
I sat at my desk, staring at the glowing screen, lines of code and surveillance logs flickering across it. Every file, every timestamp, every camera feed within two blocks of the café Aria had entered yesterday — all analyzed and cross-checked.
No affiliation tags. No recorded entry under known rival aliases. Whoever she was, she was good. Too clean to be coincidence.
The agency trained us to trust patterns. But Aria didn't follow patterns. She wove them — misdirection, pauses, carefully timed smiles. Every word she said felt rehearsed, but never stiff. That's what made it dangerous.
Claire's message pinged on my phone:
"You alive or plotting world domination again?"
I typed back:
"Bit of both."
"Try sleeping, Mr. Brooding Genius."
"I'll sleep when the world stops lying."
She replied with a gif of someone dramatically rolling their eyes.
Typical Claire. Somehow keeping me human in a world where I had to pretend I was one.
The Next Morning
Rain tapped against the classroom window. The world outside looked washed out, gray and slow. Inside, however, was anything but calm.
Aria was there before anyone else again — writing in a notebook. Her concentration was too deliberate, as if she was aware of being watched.
I sat across from her. "Morning."
She looked up, a faint smile. "You're early."
"I could say the same."
She closed her notebook carefully. "Habit, I guess. I like quiet before the noise starts."
"Me too."
Ryan entered, soaked from the rain, shaking his hair like a wet dog. "You two sound like an old married couple."
Claire tossed him a tissue. "You sound like one too. Shut up."
I almost laughed. Almost.
Aria did — a soft, melodic sound that drew every glance in the room.
And for just a second, it wasn't an act.
Later — Library
The rain hadn't stopped. Most students had gone home, but Aria stayed. She sat near the back, reading. I followed, pretending to browse.
She looked up. "You again."
"I could say the same."
She smirked. "You always have an answer ready."
"Part of my charm."
"Or defense."
Touché.
She leaned back, studying me. "You know, you're different when you talk one-on-one. More… honest."
"That's ironic."
"Why?"
"Because that's exactly what I think about you."
She blinked, caught off guard. Then smiled faintly. "Maybe we're both pretending to be honest."
That line lingered in the air longer than either of us intended.
That Night — Two Different Apartments
[Ethan's Apartment]
The encrypted call buzzed again.
"Target confirmation received," the handler said. "Codename Nyx confirmed. Embedded at your location."
I froze. "Description?"
"Female. Seventeen. Operates under alias—" The voice hesitated. "Aria Vale."
My chest tightened. "Understood."
"She's not to be eliminated yet. Observe. If she suspects, cut ties immediately."
"Copy."
The line went dead.
Outside, thunder rolled through the night.
[Aria's Apartment]
Her phone vibrated. The message was short:
"Confirmed rival presence within your class. Codename Ghost. Identify and report. Do not engage."
She sat back, eyes narrowing. Ghost.Her superior didn't give much else, but she'd heard the stories. Precision kills, untraceable methods, zero emotion.
And now he was here.
Aria looked out her window at the rain. Somewhere, under the same sky, he was watching her too.
She smiled faintly. "Guess this'll be fun."
The Next Day
By the time I arrived at school, Aria was already seated. She smiled like always, though her eyes lingered a second longer than yesterday.
I mirrored the expression. "Morning."
"Morning," she said. "Rough night?"
"Didn't sleep."
She chuckled. "We really need to work on your social skills."
Ryan joined in mid-yawn. "He has none. Trust me."
Claire sipped her coffee. "You say that like it's news."
As the conversation rolled on, Aria and I shared brief glances between jokes — a quiet duel masked beneath laughter.
She was sharper today, every word weighed.I was calmer, every reply measured.
The perfect illusion.
Afternoon — Art Room
The teacher was late. Rain still poured outside, and the air smelled of acrylic and metal.
Aria sat beside me, sketching something on a notepad. I glanced over.
It was a rough outline — two masks facing opposite directions.
"You draw?" I asked.
"Only when I can't say what I'm thinking."
"What are they supposed to be?"
She hesitated. "Opposites. Light and shadow. Both pretending to be real."
I met her gaze. "Which one are you?"
"Depends who's asking."
I didn't reply. Neither did she. But in that silence, something shifted — awareness, curiosity, danger.
Maybe all three.
That Night
I traced her route on my monitor — subway, park, bookstore. Routine, yet off by a few minutes. Testing to see if she was being tailed. Smart.
The agency had taught me patience. But curiosity? That was new.
Aria wasn't just a rival agent. She was an enigma wrapped in false smiles and careful truths. And I couldn't decide if I wanted to uncover her — or protect her.
I leaned back, muttering to myself, "Guess I'm slipping."
The encrypted ping blinked again on my screen:
"Ghost, update. Any suspicion from target?"
I typed back:
"None. Maintaining cover."
A pause. Then a reply:
"Good. Don't get attached."
Too late.
Aria's Side
She deleted her report before sending it.
Her pen hovered above the screen, then she whispered to herself, "You're smarter than you look, Ghost… whoever you are."
She leaned back, eyes closing, a faint smile forming.
"Let's see who breaks first."