The school hallways loomed ahead, students streaming through in clusters, their chatter blending into a low, restless hum. Zhao Lan took it all in with a single glance—open, unsecured, too many entry points. The air smelled of floor wax and fresh paper, a stark contrast to the cold steel and gunpowder she was used to.

Beside her, Le Yao bounced on the balls of her feet. “Well, here it is. ‘Chengyang Academy’. Not as scary as it looks, right?”

Zhao Lan adjusted her glasses. “It doesn’t look scary.”

Le Yao huffed a laugh. “Yeah, fair. But it can be a jungle in its own way. Let’s get you to the office first.” Without waiting for a response, she grabbed Zhao Lan’s wrist and tugged her along.

The moment they stepped inside, Zhao Lan’s senses sharpened. The hallway stretched ahead, lined with tall windows that let in generous sunlight. Students crowded in small groups, laughing, exchanging gossip, groaning about assignments. A boy rushed past with a toast in his mouth, narrowly avoiding a collision. Teachers strode through the halls, radiating authority but little real vigilance.

Too easy to blend into.

Yet, despite knowing she could slip into anonymity, Zhao Lan felt an unfamiliar tension coil in her chest. A battlefield was one thing, but here, she had no clear objective, no enemy, no mission. The unknown had never unsettled her before, but the sheer normalcy of this place made her uneasy.

She was an assassin. She had eliminated targets in high-security compounds. And yet… the thought of walking through this school, of pretending to be an ordinary student, felt strangely daunting.

She did not belong here.

Le Yao, however, didn’t seem to notice her hesitation. “I’ll be your guide for today,” she said brightly. “Consider me your first friend.”

Zhao Lan blinked. “We’re friends?”

Le Yao laughed. “Well, yeah. You’re stuck with me, so might as well make the most of it.”

Zhao Lan stared at her for a moment. Le Yao’s words were casual, but there was something about them—an ease, a sincerity that Zhao Lan wasn’t used to.

“…Alright,” she said at last.

Le Yao grinned. “That was too easy. You don’t have high friendship standards, do you?”

Zhao Lan tilted her head not understanding. “Should I?”

Le Yao just laughed again, shaking her head. “Never mind. Let’s keep moving.”

They arrived at the front office, where an older woman with glasses perched low on her nose, handed Zhao Lan a schedule. “You’re in Class 3-1. The homeroom teacher will introduce you.”

Le Yao peeked at the paper. “Oh! That’s my class too.” She grinned. “Guess I’ll be showing you around more than just today.”

Zhao Lan nodded, filing away the information in her brain.

The classroom was already filled when they arrived, with students chattering in small groups. The teacher, a man with a stern but kind face, looked up as Zhao Lan entered.

“Ah, you must be the transfer student.” He adjusted his glasses. “Introduce yourself.”

Zhao Lan stepped forward, feeling dozens of eyes settle on her. She had prepared for this. Just blend in, stay low-key, and be normal. She adjusted her glasses and spoke in a measured tone.

“My name is Zhao Lan,” she said. “I transferred here recently. I enjoy reading.”

A pause.

Silence stretched a second too long. She frowned slightly. Was that not normal? She had observed that ‘reading’ was a common interest among students.

Le Yao gave her a look.

Zhao Lan added, “…And sleeping.”

There was a small ripple of laughter, breaking the initial tension. The teacher nodded approvingly. “Alright, Zhao Lan, take a seat.”

She exhaled subtly. Mission accomplished. The introduction had gone smoothly, she was now just an average new student.

Class began, and Zhao Lan quickly realized something: this was too easy.

Mathematics? She had calculated bullet trajectories under fire. Biology? She knew exactly where to strike for a silent kill. Literature? Diplomacy? Understanding human nature? She had studied manipulation in high-stakes negotiations.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

She had been trained for far more complicated things than high school subjects.

Still, she remained quiet. When the teacher asked a question, she didn’t raise her hand. When a problem was written on the board, she let others struggle through it. She wasn’t here to impress anyone.

At some point, she noticed Le Yao peering over her shoulder.

"You actually take notes?" Le Yao whispered, sounding surprised.

Zhao Lan blinked. "...Yes?"

"Wow. You’re, like, a model student."

Zhao Lan had no idea what she had done to earn that label, but she let it slide.

Le Yao grinned. "Alright, if I ever forget my homework, I’m copying yours."

Zhao Lan considered pointing out the flaws in that plan but decided against it.

As expected, Zhao Lan’s presence in class went largely unnoticed after that. A new transfer student was only interesting for about five minutes, and she made sure to give no reason for anyone to pay attention to her.

Except for Le Yao, who stuck close, as if already deciding Zhao Lan was hers to look after.

***

As classes finished, Zhao Lan and Le Yao strolled through the school hallways, passing open windows where sunlight filtered through the trees, casting fleeting patterns on the polished floors. Students passed them, chatting, rushing, or simply lingering by their lockers. Zhao Lan observed everything with quiet calculation.

“The campus is pretty big,” Le Yao said as they walked. “We’ve got a gym, a music building, science labs, and even a small garden behind the library. It’s a nice place to relax.”

Zhao Lan nodded absentmindedly, but her eyes were scanning exits, blind spots, and the density of students in each corridor. "The security here is weak," she muttered.

Le Yao blinked. "What?"

Zhao Lan looked at her as if realizing she had spoken out loud. "...The fencing. Around the school. It’s easy to climb over."

Le Yao gave her a long look. "Are you planning to break out or something?"

Zhao Lan hesitated. “No.”

“…Right.” Le Yao chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re kinda weird, you know?”

Zhao Lan didn’t answer. She had been called worse things.

As they walked, Le Yao led Zhao Lan through the halls, pointing out classrooms, the cafeteria, and the courtyard with the enthusiasm of a tour guide. Zhao Lan listened in silence, absorbing every detail.

“Over there’s the music building. That’s where the choir practices. Avoid it at all costs unless you want a permanent headache.”

Zhao Lan glanced at the building. “Are they that bad?”

Le Yao hesitated before forcing a grin. “…Nah, they’re actually good. It’s just… not my favorite place.”

Her tone had changed slightly, but Zhao Lan didn’t pry.

They turned a corner, entering a quieter hallway. The atmosphere shifted, the lighthearted chatter fading into an unspoken tension. Zhao Lan noticed the way Le Yao’s shoulders tensed, how her steps slowed as they passed a group of students loitering near the lockers.

One of the girls in the group, a tall student with sleek, neatly tied hair, turned slightly, just enough for her gaze to sweep past them. When the girl's gaze landed on Le Yao, she faintly smirked, the corners of her lips carrying a hidden viciousness. It was brief, but Zhao Lan caught it. A flicker of recognition. Contempt.

Zhao Lan didn’t miss the shift in Le Yao’s breathing, the way her fingers curled slightly at her side. Fear.

Zhao Lan had been trained to detect it, to exploit it if necessary. But right now, she only felt an unfamiliar tug in her chest.

She didn’t ask. She didn’t need to.

Instead, she reached out. The action was so subtle that even Zhao Lan herself barely registered the movement. She gently tugged at Le Yao’s sleeve, just enough to redirect her path.

"Let’s take a detour," Zhao Lan said.

Le Yao hesitated but allowed herself to be led away.

The air was quieter behind the school, where a few cherry blossom trees stood, their petals fluttering lazily in the breeze. A stone bench rested beneath one of them, half bathed in shadow, half in light.

Le Yao sat down with a quiet sigh, hugging her knees to her chest. Zhao Lan remained standing, watching the soft sway of the branches above them.

Minutes passed in silence.

“…It’s stupid,” Le Yao finally muttered. “I shouldn’t let them bother me.”

Zhao Lan glanced at her.

Le Yao let out a humorless laugh. “There’s this girl—Jiang Yue. We used to be friends. At least, I thought we were.” She exhaled sharply. “But she changed. Started acting like I was beneath her. And now, she’s just… there. Always around. It’s like I never really escaped.”

Zhao Lan didn’t know what to say to that.

Zhao Lan had no experience with betrayal. Her world had always been simple—trust was a currency, and debts were paid in blood. But friendships? Those were a different kind of battlefield.

Still, something about Le Yao’s quiet frustration felt… familiar. The feeling of being cornered, of not knowing how to fight back in a battle where strength didn’t matter.

So Zhao Lan did the only thing she knew. She adjusted her stance, calculated the distance, and then—

She awkwardly patted Le Yao’s head.

Le Yao froze. Zhao Lan did too.

What… what was she doing?

She had seen this gesture before—comfort, reassurance. Wei Hu had done it to her once. It was supposed to mean something.

Le Yao slowly turned her head to look at her, eyes wide. "Uh…?"

Zhao Lan cleared her throat and quickly retracted her hand. "...That was supposed to be comforting."

Le Yao stared for a second before snorting. "You’re so bad at this."

"I don’t do this." Zhao Lan crossed her arms, looking away.

Le Yao giggled—a genuine, quiet laugh. The tension in her shoulders loosened. "Well… thanks for trying."

Zhao Lan didn’t reply. She only listened to the wind rustling through the blossoms, the faint laughter of students in the distance.

For the first time, school didn’t feel entirely unbearable.

***

Further away, walking along the school’s veranda, Liu Meiyu paused.

She hadn’t expected to see Zhao Lan here. The mysterious, unreadable transfer student who had introduced herself so plainly in class now sat beneath a cherry blossom tree, gently comforting Le Yao.

The image didn’t match the impression Zhao Lan had given earlier.

She had seemed distant, detached, yet now, there was a different side to her. A quiet kindness, an unpracticed but genuine attempt to comfort someone else. Was this the same girl who had given such a flat introduction in class?

Liu Meiyu found herself lingering, watching just a little longer than she meant to.

Then, realizing she had stopped in her tracks, she blinked and turned away, continuing down the hall.

For some reason, she found herself smiling.