He had first met Jomaira in the second semester of his first year in middle school. He was being held in detention, again, after defending himself against the school bully. No one believed him. After all, Araichians were one of the most powerful species, and Yahya, despite not inheriting any Araichian strong genetic characteristics, was regarded as such. He was small, when they were tall and strong. He had uninteresting golden skin and brown hair paired with brown eyes, unlike his mother's silver hair and bright amethyst eyes like the auroras on planet Gardia.

According to his mother, he looked more like his father. Him too, despite his Araichian ancestry was leaning on the negative side of the genetic spectrum. He had once seen a picture, tucked deep into his mother's closet, locked inside her safe that she forbade Yahya from accessing. His smiling brown eyes looked lovingly at his mother. A ship's hull at their back.

He was a pilot. And so will Yahya be one day.

He was sitting on his chair, the teacher not paying him nor the other misbehaving students a glance, deep into her romance novel. Something about a princess who turned a rebel to the bright side, forfeiting his bad ways for the sake of love.

Of course Yahya hadn't read it. But it was so popular there was no way to shelter oneself from hearing a few whispers about this event and that in classrooms or even sport's fields.

Ridiculous really. Why would a princess stoop so low as to fall for a rebel. Someone who barely showered once every full moon. He must have stunk like a pit of unwashed pigs.

Jomaira was sitting behind him, to the side. She was glaring daggers at their detention teacher, huffing now and then, her bright blue eyes promising revenge for whatever for she was dragged here.

Yahya had never seen someone like her before. Liekis were mostly private and tended to stay in closed communities away from other species. Her skin had a faint blue tint to it, her eyes the deepest shade of blue.

“First time?” Yahya grinned. He had been detained after school at least once a week that he saw himself as an authority on the subject.

Jomaira frowned at him, her eyes roaming over the dark bruises that must have formed around his eyes and his lower jaw. He could already feel his eyes starting to close from the swallowing, though the medicine given by the school nurse took the edge of the sting.

His grin widened further. “You should see the other guy.”

She huffed, and turned back to her paper where each of them was supposed to write what wrongs they had committed and what they should have done instead, and what they would do in the future.

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Yahya had long given up trying to explain why he acted as he did. And the teachers had long given up getting him to write something close to remorse about his actions. They merely collected his paper and put it where it would never see the light of day again. Probably tucked under the pile of their exam papers, discarded till the end of the year when they'll be damped at the recycling facility.

At least they served a purpose. Nature and all.

Yahya turned to his paper and quickly scribbled a cartoonish sketch of the teacher. He crunched the paper in his hand and threw it on Jomaira's desk.

She raised an eyebrow at him, but straightened the crumpled paper. She let out a choked laugh and their teacher knocked on her desk in warning. She threw them suspicious looks before deeming them inoffensive and turning back to her novel, her goofy smile back on place.

Jomaira snickered. She turned the paper and quickly drew something on it, then threw it back at Yahya.

Another sketch. more ridiculous than the one Yahya drew.

They stayed at it the whole period. Throwing papers back and forth. By the end of detention, they had exchanged their names and their contact number.

The day after, he was ambushed by Tobias and his goons. He was outnumbered. Still, he threw himself over the huge bully, kicking and scratching. It took two teachers to separate them. He was escorted to the director's office to wait for his mother's arrival. His eyes met Jomaira's in the hallway but she quickly turned around and left.

A prickling sensation of sadness spread on his chest. More painful than the sprained ankle he had suffered. He thought he had made a friend. He straightened his shoulders and walked with as much dignity as he could muster. It was okay, he told himself, he was used to it.

His mom was angry. But not at him. She stared down at his bully's parents, her eyes turning a deep purple in her anger. At least Yahya could rest with the knowledge that his mom believed him. She was the only one that mattered.

He was suspended for three days to rethink his actions. He had spent the whole duration playing video games. There was nothing to rethink. He merely acted in self defense.

On his first day back to school, he trudged to the assembly hall leaning on his crutches despite his utter dislike for the apparent weakness. For how did he expect the others to respect him when he appeared so weak?

Before the flag raising ceremony, the whole school erupted into chaos.

Tobias was perched on the school rooftop overlooking the assembly hall, in only his underwear screaming at the top of his lungs that he was the fiercest bully in all Andor, and called the teachers weak, narrow-minded bumbling fools who would never be able to stop him.

Yahya was baffled. What had happened? Tobias was indeed dumb, but not to the point of getting himself in deep trouble. He looked around the hall, looking for the real culprit. Who could do this? But everyone was staring shocked at the incredulous sight before them. Everyone but one.

On the other side of the hall, Jomaira stood. Instead of looking at Tobias, she was looking at him. When their eyes locked, she grinned.

They had been inseparable since.