The Transfer Student

The classroom smelled faintly of expensive perfume and printer ink.

The topic; shear boredom.

Rain tapped softly against the massive windows of Class A-3, though no one paid attention to it. The students of Helios Academy rarely paid attention to anything that didn’t directly benefit them.

Future politicians sat beside heirs to billion-dollar companies. Children of celebrities laughed quietly near the back. At least three students in the room had bodyguards waiting downstairs. At the center of it all sat Lucien Arden.

Perfect posture.

Perfect grades.

Perfect face.

The kind of person people lowered their voices around without realizing it. The teacher continued writing equations across the board, explaining concepts Lucien had already memorized three weeks ago through audio diffusion during sleep. His gaze rested lazily on the rain outside while his fingers tapped lightly against his desk in precise rhythm.

Three taps.

Pause.

Three taps again.

A pattern.

Everything had patterns.

People especially.

“Emotional response is often caused by environmental pressure—” The teacher’s voice blended into background noise.

Two rows ahead, a girl was pretending to take notes while secretly watching luxury bag auctions on her tablet.

A boy near the window had been trying to hide his shaking leg for the past twelve minutes. Another student was cheating during an online test using reflections from a smartwatch. Predictable. All of them. Lucien exhaled quietly. Boring.

Then the classroom door opened. The teacher stopped speaking immediately.

Interesting.

Not because interruptions were unusual. Because teachers at Helios Academy hated interruptions.

Yet this teacher straightened his tie nervously before speaking. “We have a transfer student joining us today.” Whispers immediately spread across the room. Almost everyone in this academy was addicted to gossip. Lucien ignored them at first.

Transfer students usually lasted less than a month before breaking under Helios Academy’s social hierarchy. But then footsteps echoed across the classroom floor.

Slow.

Confident.

Lucien finally looked up.

And paused.

The boy standing near the front desk wore the academy uniform perfectly despite clearly wearing it for the first time. Black hair fell slightly over sharp eyes filled with effortless amusement.

Not nervous.

Not intimidated.

Smiling.

That alone was unusual.

“Introduce yourself,” the teacher said.

The transfer student glanced at the class briefly.

One look.

That was all.

Yet somehow it felt like he had already categorized everyone in the room.

Useful.

Forgettable.

Annoying.

Threats.

Lucien narrowed his eyes slightly.

Interesting.

“My name is Kieran Vale,” the boy said smoothly. “Please take care of me.”

Half the class was already staring. Of course they were. Beautiful people were treated like natural disasters at elios Academy. Everyone noticed when they arrived. Unfortunately, or fortunately, Kieran was the architect of the storm to came after the calm.

The teacher awkwardly cleared his throat. “You can sit ne—”

“No.”

The word left Lucien’s mouth before the teacher finished speaking. Silence dropped across the room.

Several students looked horrified. The teacher blinked. “Excuse me?”

Lucien rested his chin against one hand calmly.

“He talks too much,” he said lazily.

A few students nearly choked trying not to laugh.

Kieran tilted his head slightly before smiling wider.

“And here I thought Helios students were welcoming.”

His voice carried amusement so naturally it almost sounded genuine.

Almost.

Lucien studied him carefully.

That smile was deliberate.

Measured.

Weaponized.

Then suddenly—

Apple slices.

Lucien’s expression darkened almost invisibly.

A memory surfaced from years ago.

A charity gala overflowing with fake smiles and expensive champagne.

Small hands reaching into a lunchbox.

Young Lucien silently offering imported apple slices to another child sitting alone beneath a staircase.

The child had stared at him coldly before saying:

“Why would I eat food from strangers?”

Then he stole Lucien’s juice box greedily and walked away.

Lucien had never forgotten.

His eyes sharpened slightly.

Impossible.

The teacher nervously laughed. “Lucien, don’t be difficult.”

Kieran’s gaze shifted toward him again.

This time more carefully.

Recognition flickered faintly in his eyes.

Then—

“Oh.”

Lucien immediately knew.

He remembered.

Unfortunately, Kieran smiled right after.

Not apologetically.

Mockingly.

“You’re the apple boy.”

Several students looked confused.

Lucien felt something rare crawl into his chest.

Irritation.

Pure irritation.

In his thoughts: “oh, this irritating creature survived?”

“You stole my juice.”

“And you cried about it.”

“I was seven.”

“You still look upset.”

The classroom had gone completely silent now.

No one had ever seen Lucien Arden argue over apple juice before.

One girl discreetly started recording under her desk.

The teacher looked seconds away from resigning.

Kieran finally walked toward the empty seat beside Lucien anyway before sitting down casually.

Close enough for Lucien to notice the faint scent of expensive cologne and rain.

Dangerous.

That was the first thought that crossed his mind.

Not because of appearance.

Because Kieran’s eyes moved constantly.

Observing.

Calculating.

Controlling.

Like a puppeteer checking invisible strings.

Kieran leaned back in his chair comfortably.

Then, without looking at him, he said quietly:

“You’re staring.”

Lucien replied just as softly.

“You survived.”

A pause.

Then Kieran laughed.

Soft.

Genuine.

Terrifying.

For the first time in months—

Lucien wasn’t bored anymore.

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