Three Years Ago

The car came to a slow halt in front of the university gates. Aira leaned slightly toward the window before the engine even stopped, her eyes widening as the campus stretched out before her—vast, alive, unfamiliar.

Students moved in clusters, laughter echoing through the open space. The tall buildings stood like silent witnesses to a thousand stories unfolding at once. There was something about it... something overwhelming, something beautiful.

"Wow..." The word slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it. It wasn't just admiration. It was wonder. A small, involuntary smile formed on her lips as she stepped out of the car, the warm air brushing against her face. For a moment, she simply stood there, taking it all in—the noise, the movement, the endless possibilities.

"Ahem." The sound of a deliberate cough broke her trance. Aira turned immediately.

Her father stood beside her, adjusting his watch with a calm, composed expression. Professor —respected, disciplined, and known across the university for his strict principles. Even here, in a place filled with hundreds of students, he carried an authority that made people instinctively straighten their posture.

"Papa..." Aira smiled softly, her eyes still glowing with excitement. "The university is really beautiful."

He followed her gaze for a brief second before nodding. "Yes," he said evenly. "It is. But remember something, Aira." His tone shifted—not harsh, but firm enough to demand attention.

"In a place like this, you will meet all kinds of people. Good ones... and bad ones." He looked at her properly now, his eyes steady. "You will stay away from unnecessary things. Focus on why you are here."

Aira's smile softened, but it didn't disappear. "I know, Papa," she replied gently. "Don't worry. I won't disappoint you." For a moment, something unreadable flickered in his eyes. Then he nodded once.

"Good. Now go. Be careful."

Aira adjusted the strap of her bag, her excitement bubbling quietly beneath the surface. Without another word, she turned and began walking toward the main gate. Behind her, her father got back into the car, leaving to park it. And just like that—She stepped into a new world.

She had barely crossed the entrance when it happened. A sudden push from behind. Not strong—but unexpected. Aira stumbled forward, her balance slipping for a second before she caught herself. Her hand instinctively reached out, brushing against someone else—

Another body. Another interruption. She looked up, slightly startled. A boy stood in front of her. Taller. His posture straightened almost immediately, as if the moment of imbalance had never happened. Books were clutched in his hand—one of them slightly bent from the collision.

"Sorry." The word came quickly. Then again—"Sorry." Not rushed. Not careless. Just... automatic. Before Aira could even react, he adjusted his grip on the books, turned, and walked away—his steps quick but controlled, disappearing into the crowd as if he had never been there.

Aira remained still for a second. Blinking. "What was that..." she murmured to herself. It had lasted barely a moment. And yet... Something about it lingered. She didn't know what. Not his face—she hadn't seen it clearly. Not his voice—it had been too brief.

Maybe it was just the way he had left. Like it didn't matter. Like nothing ever did. She shook her head lightly, brushing off the strange feeling before continuing inside. It was her first day. There were more important things to focus on.

_____

The first thing Aira noticed about him... Was silence. Not the ordinary kind. Not the kind that fills awkward gaps or follows unfinished conversations. His silence was different. It was steady. Intentional. Like he carried something within him—something he had no interest in sharing with the world.

She saw him again the next day.

The campus felt even more overwhelming now that the initial excitement had settled. Corridors buzzed with noise, students rushing past each other, voices overlapping in a constant hum.

Aira stood near the notice board, her books held tightly against her chest. She scanned the list in front of her, trying to focus—but her eyes kept drifting, her mind still adjusting to everything around her. And then—

He walked past. White shirt. Sleeves neatly folded to his elbows. A watch on his wrist—simple, but unmistakably expensive. His steps weren't hurried. Yet people moved out of his way. Not because he asked them to. But because his presence demanded it. People noticed him. But he didn't notice anyone. Or maybe He chose not to.

"Who is he?" Aira whispered softly, leaning slightly toward the girl beside her. The girl—her cousin Sara, a second-year student—glanced once in his direction before a knowing smirk curved her lips.

"Senior," Finance student, she said casually. "Kian."

Kian.

The name settled somewhere deep inside Aira. Quietly. Just like him.

_____

One year passed. And nothing changed. Or maybe everything did— Just not in the way it should have. Aira still noticed him. Not openly. Not in a way anyone could easily see. She had learned to be careful. It was always brief.

A glance across the library. A shadow passing through the corridor. The rare sound of his voice—low, measured, never wasted. He never laughed loudly. Never lingered in groups. He spoke only when necessary. He existed... But never fully belonged.

And somehow—That made her notice him more. "Aira, are you even listening?"

Sara's voice pulled her back. They were sitting in the college canteen, surrounded by the usual chaos—plates clattering, voices rising and falling, someone arguing over something trivial in the corner.

Aira blinked, slightly disoriented. "Hmm? What?"

Sara leaned back, crossing her arms dramatically. "I've been talking for five minutes. Where do you disappear every time?"

Aira forced a small smile. "Nowhere."

Sana narrowed her eyes. "Don't tell me... you were looking at him again."

Aira's fingers tightened subtly around her glass of water. "I wasn't."

"You always say that," Sara muttered, following her gaze anyway. "But your eyes never lie."

Aira didn't respond. Because he was there. Sitting at the far corner. Just like always. A small group surrounded him—but he wasn't really part of it. He listened more than he spoke. Occasionally nodding. Occasionally glancing at his phone. Untouchable. Unreachable. Unaware.

"You've liked him for a year," Sara said, her tone softer now. "A year, Aira. And he doesn't even know you exist."

Aira looked down. "I know."

"Then say it. Just once. What's the worst that could happen?"

Aira let out a quiet breath, her lips curving into something faintly sad. "The worst?" she murmured. "He could look at me... and feel nothing."

Sana frowned. "And that's worse than this? Watching him from a distance?"

Aira didn't answer. Because some distances... Felt safer than rejection. She was still lost in that thought when the atmosphere around her shifted. The noise didn't disappear. But it changed. Lower. Tense.

A group of boys entered the canteen—loud, careless, carrying an arrogance that made people instinctively look away. Aira didn't notice them at first. Not until a chair scraped loudly beside her. She stiffened. One of them their leader Neil had taken the empty seat next to her. Too close.

"Hi, sweetheart." The smirk in his voice was enough to make her blood boil.

Aira turned sharply, her eyes flashing with irritation. "You again? How many times do I have to tell you not to follow me?"

Neil only leaned back, unfazed. "How many times do I have to tell you..." he said lazily, "I won't stop until you agree to be my girlfriend?"

Aira let out a short, humorless laugh. "Girlfriend?" she snapped. "I wouldn't even consider you my enemy. That would be an insult to the word."

The boys around him chuckled. But his expression didn't change. If anything—It darkened.

Aira looked away, refusing to engage further. That was her mistake. Because the next second— His hand grabbed her wrist. Hard. He pulled her slightly, forcing her to turn toward him. The movement was sudden. Unwanted. Unacceptable.

For a split second, everything inside her froze. Then— Something snapped. Aira jerked her hand free with force, her eyes blazing with anger. Before he could react—

Slap.

The sound echoed louder than anything else in the room. Silence fell. Sharp. Immediate. "Don't," she said, her voice steady but filled with warning. "Ever touch me again." Without waiting for a response, she picked up her bag and walked away.' sara run behind her."  Her steps were firm. Unshaken. But she didn't look back. She didn't see the way his expression shifted.

The way his jaw tightened. The way his eyes followed her— Not with amusement. With something far more dangerous. that say, This wasn't over.

From the corner table—Kian had seen everything. He hadn't moved. Hadn't said a word. But under the table, his hand had clenched into a fist. His gaze lingered on the direction she had walked away. Not curious. Not surprised. Just... watchful.

_____

That evening, the sky melted into shades of gold and orange as Aira stepped out of the college gates. Her father was already there. Waiting. As always.

"Late," he said, glancing at his watch.

"Class ran longer," Aira replied quietly.

He nodded once. No further questions. That was how he was. Disciplined. Controlled. Unwavering. As the car pulled away from the campus, Aira found herself looking back. Just once. Through the rear window.

And there he was. Standing near the gate. Someone was talking to him—but it didn't seem like he was really listening. For a brief moment— Their worlds existed in the same frame. Then the car turned. And he disappeared. Aira leaned back, closing her eyes slowly.

One year. Countless glances. Endless silence. Her fingers curled slightly in her lap. Maybe... Some feelings were never meant to be spoken.

On the other side—Kian stood still for a moment longer, watching the road where her car had disappeared. A quiet breath left him. Then he turned—And walked away. Like he always did.

______

By the time Aira reached home, the sky had softened into the quiet warmth of late afternoon. The familiar gate creaked slightly as she pushed it open, the sound oddly comforting after the constant noise of the university. Home was never loud in the same way—its chaos was softer, woven with routine, with voices she had known all her life.

She stepped inside, her shoulders heavier than they had any right to be after just one day. Behind her, she heard the car door shut. Her father. Right on time, as always.

The moment she entered the living room, her mother looked up from where she stood near the dining table, adjusting a stack of plates. A gentle smile spread across her face the second she saw Aira.

"It's only been one year, Aira," she said warmly, walking forward as she took her husband's bag from his hand. "And you already look this tired. How are you going to survive the next two?" There was no real criticism in her tone—just light teasing, softened by concern.

Aira let her bag slip from her shoulder, exhaling as if she had been holding her breath the entire day. "What can I do, Mama?" she replied, her voice carrying a quiet exhaustion. "There are so many projects already, and it's just the first year. I don't even want to imagine what they'll give us in the final years."

She paused, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "I thought if I took admission in Papa's university, I would at least have some privilege... you know, being the professor's daughter." Her eyes flickered toward her father briefly before she added, half joking— "But it turned out the opposite. Now I have to maintain his reputation there too."

A soft chuckle escaped her father as he moved toward the sofa, loosening his watch slightly before sitting down. "There is no privilege for anyone," he said, his tone firm but not harsh. "Every student is the same for me. It doesn't matter if they are my children or not."

Aira didn't argue. She never did. Because she knew he meant every word. Their home reflected that same balance.

It wasn't large enough to be called luxurious, but it wasn't small either. A modest two-floor house with five rooms—each space lived in, each corner holding something familiar. It carried the quiet dignity of a family that had built everything through discipline, not excess.

Her older brother had already graduated and now worked full-time, often coming home late but always bringing a sense of responsibility with him. Her younger brother, still only fifteen, filled the house with a kind of restless energy that no one else could match.

And then there was her bua—her father's sister—who had been living with them for years now after her divorce. She carried her own quiet strength, her presence steady and uncomplaining. Her daughter, Sara, was not just Aira's cousin. She was... something closer. A constant.

"Mama, I'm going to my room," Aira said, already turning toward the stairs. "Please don't disturb me."

"Oh really?" her mother's voice followed immediately, sharper this time. "And who is going to have lunch?"

Aira stopped mid-step, closing her eyes briefly. "Mama... can I skip it today?" she said, her voice softer now. "I don't even have the energy to lift a spoon." It wasn't just the studies. It was the day. The confrontation. The lingering unease. And somewhere in between all of that—

Him.

"Eat first, Aira," her father's voice cut through, calm but firm. "Then you can rest." That was enough. It always was. Aira turned back slightly and nodded. "Okay, Papa. I'll come after changing." She didn't wait for a response before heading upstairs.

Her room was simple. Shared. Familiar. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it for a moment, letting the quiet settle around her. The walls here didn't feel suffocating. The air didn't feel heavy. This silence... was kind.

She moved slowly, changing her clothes before heading into the bathroom. The cool water against her skin helped, if only a little. It washed away the dust, the sweat, the visible exhaustion—But not the thoughts.

Not the memory of his hand gripping her wrist. Not the way the room had gone silent after the slap. Not the way someone had been watching. When she stepped out, toweling her hair lightly, Sara was already in the room, leaning against the edge of the bed.

She looked up the moment Aira entered. "You know..." Sara began, her tone careful but serious, "you didn't have to slap him like that." Aira paused. "What if he does something now?" Sara continued. "He's not normal, Aira. Him and his group—they're not just some college boys. They're... different. Dangerous more like gangs."

Aira's expression hardened slightly. "I don't care if they're a group or a gang," she said, her voice steady but edged with frustration. "I've had enough of him. He's been following me for a year, Sara. A whole year."

She shook her head, anger surfacing again. "How long was I supposed to tolerate it? I stayed quiet because I didn't want this to reach Papa. But now... that's enough." She looked directly at Sara. "If he tries anything again, I won't stay silent. I'll go straight to the principal. And after that—Papa will handle it."

Sara studied her for a moment. Then nodded slowly. "That's true," she admitted. For a brief second, the tension eased. Then Sara's expression shifted—something more thoughtful now. "You know your first year is almost over," she said. "Just a few more weeks and you'll be in second year."

Aira frowned slightly. "So?"

Sara rolled her eyes lightly. "So? That means it's his final year."

Aira stilled. "You'll only have one year left, Aira," Sara continued, her voice quieter now but more direct. "One year to actually say something. Or are you planning to spend that one too just... watching him from a distance?"

The words landed heavier than they should have. Aira didn't respond. Because her mind had already gone somewhere else.

His final year.

The thought echoed in her chest. A strange tightness formed, something she couldn't quite name. Time. It was slipping. Quietly. Without waiting for her to be ready. Her fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the towel in her hand. For a whole year, she had convinced herself there was no rush.

That there would always be time. That distance was safe. But now— Now it didn't feel that simple. Aira looked away, her voice softer when she finally spoke. "I don't even know if I exist for him."

Sara didn't interrupt this time. Because some truths didn't need answers. They just needed to be felt. Outside, her mother called them for lunch. Life continued. Unaware of how quietly, how deeply—Everything was beginning to change.
_______
And their journey started from here, 
Let's meet in next chapter. 
bye bye take care love's