Daniel avoided Leo for three days.
Not in an obvious way—no dramatic turns or sharp exits—but in small, deliberate choices. He switched training slots. Sat closer to Mika and Ryo during meals. Chose different corridors between classes.
It worked.
Until it didn't.
On the fourth day, the academy announced a mandatory night patrol exercise. Pairs would rotate through assigned routes around the perimeter, monitoring scent trails and potential breaches.
Daniel scanned the list once.
Then twice.
His pulse spiked.
Route C — Daniel & Leo
"Of course," Mika muttered beside him. "Of course."
Ryo tilted his head. "Maybe the universe is bored."
Daniel didn't laugh.
Night settled thick over the academy grounds, the moon high and watchful. Route C cut through the wooded edge—quiet, shadowed, far from the main lights.
Daniel adjusted his jacket as he walked ahead, senses sharp, every sound amplified.
Leo followed a step behind.
"You've been avoiding me," Leo said finally.
Daniel didn't slow. "We're here to patrol, not talk."
Leo hummed softly. "Multitasking exists."
Daniel stopped abruptly. "Say what you want to say."
Leo paused, surprised. Then he stepped closer—not invading, just present.
"I don't like being shut out," Leo said. "Especially when I didn't push."
Daniel turned. "You didn't push?"
"No," Leo replied calmly. "I noticed. There's a difference."
Daniel studied his face in the moonlight, looking for mockery or challenge.
There was none.
"You scare me," Daniel said quietly, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
Leo blinked. "That's new."
"You see things," Daniel continued. "And you don't use them. That makes you unpredictable."
Leo's mouth curved faintly. "You think I'd hurt you with what I see?"
"I think you could," Daniel said. "And choose not to."
That earned a pause.
Then Leo nodded. "That's fair."
Silence fell again, heavier than before.
They continued walking.
Halfway through the route, Daniel felt it.
A shift.
His suppressor—normally steady—wavered. Just slightly. His chest tightened, breath hitching as his scent threatened to surface.
No. Not now.
He slowed unconsciously.
Leo noticed instantly.
"Daniel?" His voice dropped. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Daniel said too quickly.
Leo stepped closer, concern flickering across his face. "You're lying."
Daniel's hands clenched. "I said I'm fine."
But his scent betrayed him—a faint, sweet note slipping through the barrier.
Leo froze.
Then he took a careful step back.
"I won't cross," Leo said immediately. "I swear."
Daniel's head snapped up. "You—"
"I won't," Leo repeated. "I don't need answers right now."
Daniel's vision blurred with frustration. "Why are you like this?"
Leo exhaled slowly. "Because whatever you're hiding isn't something you want stolen."
Daniel stared at him.
"Sit," Leo added gently. "Your breathing's off."
Against every instinct, Daniel obeyed, lowering himself onto a fallen log. He focused on steadying himself, grounding his senses.
Leo stayed a respectful distance away.
Minutes passed.
When Daniel finally looked up, Leo was watching the trees—not him.
"Thank you," Daniel murmured.
Leo glanced over. "For what?"
"For not asking," Daniel said.
Leo smiled softly. "You'll tell me when you're ready."
Daniel swallowed. "What if I never am?"
Leo shrugged lightly. "Then I'll just stay."
The words landed harder than any accusation.
Daniel looked away quickly. "You shouldn't."
"Maybe," Leo agreed. "But I want to."
When the patrol ended, they walked back side by side—not touching, but closer than before.
As they reached the academy gates, Leo spoke again. "Daniel?"
"Yes?"
"I'm not your enemy," Leo said. "Even if you decide I should be."
Daniel met his gaze.
"I know," he said softly.
And that scared him more than anything else.