Yan Xiyan crouched behind the low wall of the rooftop, fingers still curled around the edge where the figure had slipped away. The chill of the evening wind tangled with her breath, and her heart pounded not from fear, no, it wasn't fear but recognition.
That gait. That split-second stance before disappearing. She'd seen it before, long ago. In a life where blood painted her fingers and her innocence had been torn from her by the weight of a rifle and the scent of gunpowder.
"Yaaaan~!" A voice startled her.
She spun, body low and ready only to meet a pair of brown eyes blinking behind thick frames, half a sandwich in one hand, and a very unhelpful grin on his face.
"Fu Shuwen," she groaned. "What are you doing here?"
Her ever-hungry classmate scratched his head, unfazed by the tension that still lingered in the air. "I saw you bolt out of the hallway like a banshee. I figured either you were chasing someone or you were late for lunch. Based on your expression, I'm guessing it's not lunch."
"You think?" she muttered, eyes scanning the alleyways from above.
Behind them, the rooftop door creaked open again, slower this time.
"Wow," Qiao Zeyan's voice cut through the wind, sharp and steady. "Are rooftops your thing, Yan Xiyan? Or were you just hoping for a dramatic exit?"
She didn't turn around immediately. She couldn't. His tone was playful, sure but there was something sharper beneath it. She could feel his gaze peeling back her layers, trying to get a glimpse at the truth hidden under the mask of 'ordinary schoolgirl.'
"Maybe I like the view," she said, finally standing. "Peaceful. Quiet. No nosy classmates breathing down my neck."
"Is that what I'm doing?" he smirked, stepping closer. "Breathing down your neck?"
Fu Shuwen made a dramatic gagging sound. "Alright, I'll leave you two to flirt or fight or whatever weird foreplay this is."
"Get out, Shuwen," they both snapped at once.
As the door slammed behind the comic relief, Qiao Zeyan's smile faded. "Who were you chasing?"
Yan Xiyan tilted her head slightly. "Why do you think I was chasing anyone?"
He didn't answer, just held up a small black item between his fingers, a single dart, slim and sleek. Military-grade. She recognized it instantly. One of hers.
He'd picked it up.
She cursed inwardly.
"I found this near the railing," he said. "Funny thing is, our school doesn't exactly keep tranquilizer darts lying around."
"Maybe it's part of the biology lab's new curriculum," she replied coolly, snatching it from him. "Might work on students who don't know when to mind their own business."
He laughed. And it wasn't the charming, boyish kind. It was low, calculated. "I'm not sure who you are, Yan Xiyan. But I'm starting to think you're not just the quiet girl who aces math and disappears during lunch breaks."
The tension snapped like a tripwire between them. For a moment, neither moved.
Then he stepped forward. Closer. The wind caught the loose strands of her hair, sending them fluttering. His voice dropped just above a whisper. "Tell me. Who was that figure you were chasing? Someone from your past?"
Her eyes darkened not with fear, but fire.
"…If I tell you, you won't believe me."
"Try me."
She almost did.
But instead, she turned and walked away. Her voice floated behind her, light as a feather but sharp as a blade: "One day, Qiao Zeyan, you'll wish you never asked."