UNIVERSITY ARC
The alley was dead silent now—except for the groaning bodies of the thugs scattered across the ground. The air still trembled with the echoes of violence.
I stood frozen for a moment, blinking at the whirlwind that had just unfolded. One second I was surrounded—on the brink of being stabbed—and the next, they were all on the ground, twitching or unconscious.
My legs trembled, breath caught somewhere in my throat. I was seconds away from being killed.
And she… she moved like death in red cotton.
A katana. A katana, for god's sake. Where did she even pull it from?
I stared at the girl in front of me—no, the storm in human form. She'd taken down ten thugs in under a minute like it was just another Tuesday. And now she was… twirling her blade like a toy?
I staggered back, hand brushing the wall, heart slamming in my chest like a drum.
"What… are you?" I muttered, still trying to wrap my head around what just happened.
The girl turned slowly, blade angled toward the ground, crimson drops sliding off the edge. Calm. Focused. Expression unreadable.
"Wow. Not even a 'thank you'? Rude. I just saved your life in record time."
"I…" I glanced around at the unconscious men. "You did this?"
She gave a slight nod, as if it wasn't worth mentioning. "They underestimated you. I didn't."
The wind shifted, and I caught the faint scent of jasmine and steel. She wiped the blade with a soft cloth and returned it to the sheath behind her back—hidden so seamlessly it disappeared.
"What the hell just happened?" I muttered, rubbing my temple. "Who are you?"
She grinned, with one hand on her hip.
"Raksha. Just Raksha."
That name—it struck me. Meant protection in traditional language, didn't it? I narrowed my eyes. Something about her didn't sit right. She was too casual, probably same age like me, someone who moved like an assassin.
"Why are you helping me?" I asked, clearly in confusion. My eyes are still shaky. I was wondering why I can't control my own body. Probably because of the scene of the gun shot still in my eyes.
She looked at me for a long moment.
Then, out of nowhere, her serious face cracked. She blinked, smiled wide… and let out the goofiest laugh I'd ever heard.
"Oh god—I was trying so hard to be all stoic and mysterious. Did you see that cool silent type thing I was doing during the fight? Did it work for even a second?"
I gaped at her. "…What?"
"Sorry, sorry!" she wiped her eyes, laughing harder. "That was my dramatic debut. I wanted to make a cool first impression. Did it land?"
"You were—killing people—just now."
"Only a little. They're alive. Maybe." She grinned.
I took a deep breath, still rattled. "Who you really are?"
"Okay, fine, serious mode. You know… security?" She winked. "Well, unofficially. Think of me as your cute little insurance policy with sharp edges. Nice to meet you, Mr. Gold Card."
I frowned. "That doesn't explain anything."
"Oh, it will. Eventually. But first…" she squinted at my shirt, reaching over and wiping a bit of dust from my shoulder. "You've got thug guts on your sleeve. Disgusting."
I stepped back, still trying to piece it all together. "You've been following me. Since the party."
"Ten points to detective Manoj!" she grinned. "Your mom asked me to watch over you. Well, more like ordered me. With a very serious look that made my tea curdle."
I blinked. "Wait. My mother sent you?" My voice sharp.
"Yeah… surprise!" She gave a playful salute. "Yep. She picked me herself."
I blinked. "But you just—"
"I am terrifying," she added with a wink. "Just not to you."
Silence hung for a second.
I stepped closer, gaze fixed. "My mother isn't someone who trusts easily. She plans ten steps ahead. Thinks three times before blinking. And yet… she sent you?"
Raksha's lips curled into a pout so sudden it caught me off guard. She folded her arms and huffed like a kid denied candy.
"Wow. Rude. Someone like me, huh?" she said, puffing her cheeks out. "Tch. You rich boys are so judgy."
I blinked. Was she actually sulking?
"I meant someone who sneaks around in shadows and throws knives like a ninja," I muttered.
She squatted down next to one of the groaning thugs, poked his arm with their blade, then looked up. Her expressions were tightened.
"Well, duh. Of course she tested me. Hardcore. Had to beat two elite trainers, crack a martial trial, and ace some freaky simulation room that smelled like antiseptic and fear." She stood and tapped her temple. "Top-ranked blade specialist. Five martial art certifications. And—get this—I once broke a guy's ribs just for mispronouncing your name."
I raised a brow. "That was necessary?"
"Totally," she said, not even blinking.
Still… something didn't add up. "Why you?"
She paused. Then, as if the seriousness cracked under pressure, she twirled once like a stage performer and struck a kung-fu pose that was way too dramatic to be real.
"Because," she said, drawing closer with mock pride, "your mom thought you'd be all moody and lonely, and that you needed someone to protect you and annoy you. So—ta-da! Me!"
I stared. For a second, I couldn't decide if she was a bodyguard, a prankster, or a side character from a completely different movie.
And then she burst out laughing again—loud, childlike, and unrestrained.
"Oh man! Your face! You're like, 'Is she gonna stab me or steal my snacks?'" she laughed, clutching her sides.
I couldn't help it. I chuckled. A little. Okay, maybe a lot.
She was absurd. Infuriating. Deadly.
But… I could already tell. With her around, I wouldn't have to keep my guard up all the time.
And weirdly… that felt safe.
I laughed at her. "You're insane."
"Maybe. But you're alive because of me, so… you're welcome." She clapped her hands once. "Anyway! Now that we've had our dramatic introduction, what's next?"
I exhaled slowly, rubbing my temples. "I honestly have no idea."
She tilted her head. "Good. Then I'll decide. Come on, Mr. Gold Card—let's get out of this smelly alley before the police show up."
She turned, walking away like it was the most normal thing in the world, humming a tune.
And for some strange reason… I followed.
...…
We walked side by side through the quiet streets, the buzz of the fight behind us replaced by the hum of insects and distant traffic.
I should've been shaken. But instead, I found myself… weirdly calm.
Raksha skipped ahead, then walked backward to face me, hands behind her head like a smug little ninja.
"You know," she said, "your walking posture's gotten better."
I blinked. "What?"
"Yeah. Ever since the message arrived, your shoulders shifted. You stand taller. Like you finally started breathing like yourself again."
I narrowed my eyes. "How do you know that?"
She smirked, stepping closer. "I know everything, remember? Every step. Every sigh. Every time you glared at your cracked phone screen, missing Kusuma but pretending you didn't."
That stung. I looked away.
"Hey, hey," she added, "I'm not judging. I'm literally paid to care."
"By stalking me?"
"Nope. By protecting you from idiots. Like those creeps tonight. And yourself, occasionally."
I didn't reply. She wasn't wrong.
"You know," she went on, more softly this time, "your mother didn't just pick me out of a catalog. It took two and a half years."
That made me pause.
"What?"
"She started the process before your restrictions were even lifted. She knew. She planned for the day you'd return."
I stopped walking.
Raksha looked back. "She didn't want to be late when you rose again. Said something like, 'When he walks into the world, the shadows will follow. I need someone who can walk faster than them.'" She puffed her chest. "Ta-da. Me."
My heart clenched. So she had known. She always knew.
"Your mother tested me like a maniac, as I said before." Raksha added. "I fought trainers with dull swords until I bled. Ran blindfolded through obstacle zones. Took an exam that made me solve combat scenarios, political traps, and ethical dilemmas while being sleep-deprived. And get this—she even asked me what kind of jokes you'd laugh at."
I raised a brow. "Did you pass that part?"
She winked. "What do you think?"
We finally reached the hostel gates. I didn't realize how heavy my limbs felt until I saw the building. Safe. Familiar. Somehow different now.
Raksha leaned against the gate and stretched.
"So, here's my plan," she declared.
"Plan?"
"Yep! I'm joining your college."
"…What?"
"As your classmate. I already forged the papers. Well, not me. Your mom's people. I'll be in your class, your projects, your canteen time. It's the only way I can stay with you without arousing suspicion. Brilliant, right?"
I stared at her, baffled. "You forged—wait. You're going to be in my class?"
"Of course! I even got a new name for college." She grinned proudly. "Rakshitha. Cute, right?"
I just stared at her in horror.
Then… the memory hit me.
"You… you said you broke a guy's ribs for mispronouncing my name…"
She tilted her head. "Yep."
"And… what if someone bullies me?"
Her eyes lit up with such innocent bloodlust, it made my spine tingle.
"I'll destroy them."
My breath caught in my throat.
"Don't worry," she said brightly, "I'll be subtle. Maybe."
She turned around and skipped toward the building like it was recess.
I stood frozen for a moment, imagining the massacre that would follow if Raksha ever learned about those college guys who used to trip me in the hallways or spread rumors behind my back.
I didn't know what terrified me more—the enemies I couldn't see, or the chaos walking beside me with a blade and a smile.