📍Setting: Aiah's Room – The Morning After Dinner
Aiah's POV
I woke up with the worst taste in my mouth.
Not from food.
From words I shouldn't have said.
I didn't regret walking out last night — not really.
But I regretted the way Mikha looked at me before I left.
Like... she understood.
And that scared me more than anything.
Because if she understood...
Then maybe I wasn't hiding my pain as well as I thought.
⸻
There was a soft knock.
Not like her usual knock — not the strict three taps.
It was gentler today. Barely there.
I didn't answer. But the door opened anyway.
Mikha (quietly):
"We have to be at the training center by 9. Breakfast is ready downstairs."
I nodded.
She didn't ask if I was okay.
She didn't say sorry.
And weirdly... I liked that.
I didn't want pity.
I just wanted someone to still show up.
⸻
📍Training Center – Quiet Day
There were no fights today.
Just drills.
Basic ones.
Mikha called them "maintenance movements" — boring stretches, mild cardio, footwork.
Narration (Aiah's POV):
I didn't realize she was studying me while I trained.
Not watching to criticize.
Just observing.
Making mental notes, probably.
Or maybe... making sure I didn't fall apart.
⸻
Mikha (softly, handing me water):
"Your stance is better. You're less reactive today."
I blinked.
Wait, was that a compliment?
Aiah (frowning, suspicious):
"Okay... are you dying or something? Did you hit your head?"
Mikha (just shrugged):
"Progress deserves recognition."
She said it like it was no big deal.
But something about those words stuck in my head the rest of the day.
⸻
📍POV Switch: Mikha's POV – Later That Night
I watched her from the hallway monitor.
She was on the balcony again.
Same spot. Same expression.
Blank. Quiet. Thinking too much.
Narration (Mikha's POV):
She's starting to break the rhythm.
Not as loud. Not as defensive.
Still sarcastic, still guarded.
But something shifted.
Something small.
And small things?
They're usually what crack walls the fastest.
⸻
📍2AM – Alarm Triggered
Narration (Mikha's POV):
It started with one beep.
Then a flash on the screen.
Sensor tripped. South gate. Movement detected.
I didn't wake anyone. Not yet.
I grabbed my weapon, slid into the shadows, and went alone.
Stealth mode. Fast breath. Muscle memory.
It could've been a false alarm.
But deep down, I knew better.
⸻
What I found:
• Cigarette ashes on the stone ledge
• Faint muddy footprints
• Security wires scratched — not cut, tested
Someone was watching us.
Someone who wanted to come back.
⸻
📍Aiah's Room – A Few Minutes Later
Aiah's POV
I jolted awake to the sound of her boots.
She was in my room before I could even sit up.
Aiah (sleepy):
"What? Anong—"
Mikha (serious):
"Stay inside tomorrow. No balcony. No solo walks. No sneaking out. Got it?"
Aiah (blinking):
"What? Why? What happened?"
Mikha (firm but calm):
"There was someone by the south fence."
I stilled.
Her eyes weren't just alert — they were calculated. Sharp.
Like she'd seen this before. Too many times.
Aiah (quietly):
"Are you sure?"
Mikha:
"Always."
And somehow, that answer made me feel safer than any lock in this house ever did.
⸻
📍Narration (Aiah's POV)
I didn't ask her to stay.
But she did.
Sat by the door.
Back against the wall. Eyes scanning the room.
Silent. Unmoving.
Like a ghost guarding a castle.
And that's when I realized...
I've never had anyone stay after saying I was difficult.
Not until her.
⸻
📍Narration (Mikha's POV)
She fell asleep again eventually.
Her breathing evened out.
I stayed. Not because I had to.
But because this time... I wanted to.
Not to protect her body.
But to protect the part of her she keeps trying to bury.
The soft part. The hurt part.
The part she swears doesn't exist.