The day stretched like an over-stretched elastic.
In class, Keisha didn't lift her eyes once to look at Léandro. Her fingers traced words on paper, methodical. She answered when called on, took notes, remained still. Perfect. Untouchable.
No one would have guessed what had happened earlier… or what was still vibrating just beneath the surface.
At lunch break, she ate with Vanessa as if the world had never changed.
— You're quiet today, Vanessa remarked between bites.
— I'm listening, Keisha replied, her voice calm.
— You do that when you want people to stop asking questions.
A faint smile flickered across her lips, just enough to make one wonder if something lay behind it.
— Exactly.
Vanessa didn't push. She knew how to recognize walls that couldn't be crossed.
Across the room, several girls cast pointed glances at Léandro. Normally, he would have responded with a joke, a smile, or a teasing comment. Not today.
He didn't hear them. All he saw was her refusing gaze. The distance she imposed. The invisible boundary she drew with unsettling ease.
— Dude, you sure you're okay? one of his friends asked.
— I told you I am, he replied, a little too sharply.
He got up and walked away alone. Without explanation. Just the shadow of his steps in the nearly empty hallway.
At the end of the day, Keisha closed her locker. She felt a presence before she even heard the footsteps.
— How long are you planning to avoid me? Léandro asked, his voice low but cutting.
She turned slowly.
— As long as necessary.
— You act like nothing happened.
— Because nothing did, she repeated, her voice firm.
He clenched his jaw. His eyes searched for a crack.
— You can't just decide it doesn't matter.
— I can.
Her gaze didn't waver. An invisible, icy boundary.
— That's what it means to be an Aïna. I choose what carries weight. And what doesn't.
He had no reply. She passed by him without brushing against him, without looking at him. She left the school alone, as always.
But a fleeting thought crossed her mind:
He insists too much… and that's dangerous.
Léandro stayed still long after she left. This was no longer just attraction. It was a challenge. A puzzle. A boundary he did not yet understand.
— Very well, he murmured.
— I'll learn the rules.
He ignored one essential fact: the rules of the Aïna are never explained. They are discovered. And sometimes… they destroy.
The next day, Léandro arrived earlier than usual. He observed, patient, silent. And he found what he was looking for almost by accident.
Near the stairs, Maya spoke loudly—too loudly.
— I'm telling you, it's not a myth. Aïna really exist, she said, confident.
— Nonsense… someone snickered.
— You'll see. Some people are just… different.
Léandro stepped back a bit, pretending to look at his phone, while listening.
— So you're one too? asked a girl.
— Maybe, Maya replied with an enigmatic smile. You don't recognize an Aïna at first glance.
Bingo. Léandro didn't believe a word, but that wasn't the point.
At lunch, he deliberately sat at her table. Maya seemed surprised… then delighted.
— Well, Léandro, that's rare.
— I felt like changing tables, he replied, calm, observant.
He didn't flirt. Not yet. He just existed there. Present. Visible. Every movement calculated, every subtle smile, a silent provocation.
Across the cafeteria, Keisha ate with Vanessa.
— What are you looking at? Vanessa asked.
— Nothing.
But her eyes had already seen: Léandro. Maya. Together.
— Maya's been showing off for two weeks, Vanessa shrugged. People love that kind of story.
Keisha chewed slowly.
— There's only one Aïna here, she said calmly.
Vanessa furrowed her brow.
— Huh?
— Nothing.
But something had shifted inside her. Léandro was playing. And Keisha didn't like it.
In the following days, Léandro pressed just enough to be seen.
He walked through the halls with Maya, laughing, letting her cling to his arm. The rumors spread naturally.
Keisha heard everything. She said nothing. But the closer he got to Maya, the more she felt the emptiness widen.
One evening, at the school gate, she stopped.
He's trying to force me to look…
She took a deep breath.
— Bad idea… she murmured.
Because Léandro had made a fundamental mistake: Aïna don't react like others. And when they finally do… it's often too late to step back.
Keisha didn't like the ends of the day.
It was always then that emotions tried to surface.
When the role fell away.
When there were no more eyes to hold.
She left the school unhurriedly, earphones in, gaze fixed. Behind her, laughter, gossip, whispered names — all of it slid off her like a fine rain.
But inside, something stirred.
Why does this… affect me, just a little?
The thought irritated her more than Léandro himself.
The car stopped in front of a discreet house, set apart from the center. Nothing ostentatious. Nothing poor either. Just… controlled.
"Keisha," a familiar voice called from inside.
Maëlys.
The nanny was no longer really a nanny. She had been there too long to be just a role. Too attentive. Too perceptive.
"You came home early," she noted, handing her a glass of water.
"Useless day," Keisha replied.
Maëlys watched her for a few seconds too long.
"Useless… or disturbing?"
Keisha didn't answer immediately. She set her things down, removed her jacket. The silence spoke for her.
"Your father is still away," Maëlys said softly.
"I know."
She went up to her room. A sparse space. Everything in its place. Except her.
Keisha sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the wall. The image of Léandro, of Maya, that closeness on display… it wasn't jealousy.
It was something else.
A sense of lost control.
And that… was unacceptable for an Aïna.
Later that evening, she went to the Glasshouse, a place few students knew. An old building repurposed, halfway between a music room and a hideaway.
There she met Noah.
"You're late," he said without looking at her.
"I came," she replied.
Noah was one of the few who had known her before. Before the school. Before the unofficial title of queen.
"You're tense."
"Wrong."
"You clench your jaw when you lie."
She sat across from him.
"Someone's provoking me."
Noah finally looked up.
"And?"
"He thinks I'll react like everyone else."
A silence.
"And you won't?" he asked.
Keisha closed her eyes for a moment.
"I can't afford to."
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the city, Léandro was laughing a little too loudly with Maya and some other students. He played the role he had set for himself. That of the indifferent boy. The one who had moved on.
But every vibration of his phone… he was hoping for something else.
Why isn't she reacting?
Back at home, Keisha looked at herself in the mirror again.
This time, she didn't see the queen. She saw the girl. The one who had felt something, despite herself.
"Feelings are weaknesses…," she murmured. Then, softer:
"But maybe they're also weapons."
She straightened up.
Tomorrow, she would return to school. Same calm. Same control.
But this time… she would observe differently.
And those who thought they could play with an Aïna would soon learn one essential thing:
Silence is never weakness.
Monday morning, Keisha understood immediately.
Léandro laughed near the stairs. Maya was there. Too close.
He wasn't looking at Keisha. But every movement seemed calculated to be noticed.
"Interesting…," she thought.
She continued forward, impassive. Students moved aside as always. The queen passed.
"Hello, Aïna," said a girl with a nervous smile.
Keisha nodded without slowing.
But her eyes recorded everything.
Léandro's hand on Maya's chair back.
The laugh, a little too forced.
The gaze he didn't place on her.
He wants to provoke a reaction.
She felt an emotion stir inside her. Not jealousy. No.
Something more dangerous.
Pride touched.
In class, she sat without a glance toward him. Léandro, two rows behind, said nothing. He felt her. Constant. Present. Untouchable.
She's playing, he thought.
Fine. Me too.
When the bell rang, he stood before her. He stopped deliberately by her desk.
"Keisha."
She slowly lifted her eyes.
"Léandro."
A simple exchange. But around them, the air seemed to tighten.
"Maya's throwing something tonight. You should come," he said, falsely relaxed.
"I'm not invited to meaningless distractions."
"Too bad. You might miss something."
A corner of his eye fell on Maya, farther away.
Keisha rose.
"If I miss something, it wasn't worth my time."
She passed beside him without brushing against him.
But this time, she paused.
"Tell me, Léandro…"
"Yes?"
She leaned slightly toward him. Just enough for him to sense her perfume.
"Be careful.
Games always end by revealing who truly controls the rules."
Then she walked away.
Her calm unsettled him more than a scream ever could.
At break, Vanessa joined her.
"Tell me I'm dreaming… is it just me, or is Léandro playing a weird game with that girl?"
"It's not your imagination," Keisha replied.
"And it doesn't bother you?"
Keisha waited a few seconds before answering.
"What bothers me… I decide."
When Vanessa left, Keisha remained alone. Immobile.
He thinks I'll give in.
He thinks I'll expose myself.
She gave a slow, almost dangerous smile.
"Bad strategy…," she murmured.
That evening, at home, Keisha removed the ribbon from her neck and placed it on the dresser. A rare gesture. Intimate.
Her phone vibrated.
Unknown message:
Will you come tonight after all?
She didn't reply immediately.
Then she typed:
Keisha:
Maybe. But if I come, it will be on my terms.
She put the phone down.
In this game, Léandro had made the first provocation. But he had forgotten one essential thing:
An Aïna never reacts on the spot.
She prepares.