Her mask cracked. For the first time, a flush of color rushed to her face, her eyes widening.

"What—? No. I don't need your useless permission for anything."

"Then I don't need yours either. Equal."

The words slipped out smoother than I expected, and I leaned back in my seat, feeling the tiniest bit of satisfaction.

Wait, but why was I even bickering with this girl? What kind of life had I stumbled into where arguing about permission to leave a chair was a hill worth dying on?

"You do," she insisted stubbornly.

I rubbed my temple again, fighting the urge to slam my forehead against the desk.

"And for what reason?"

Her eyes burned into mine, her voice like ice.

"Because I said so."

I stared at her in silence, then let out the longest sigh of my life.

Yeah. If sitting beside her didn't kill me, the arguments surely would.

I wasn't sure how long I was going to live with this girl as my seatmate, but something told me my life expectancy had already been cut in half.

-----------

The moment class ended and the shuffle of feet filled the room, I let my head collapse onto the desk.

Exhaustion seeped into my bones. Class was draining enough, but add hunger on top of it and I was about ready to sell my soul for a plate of rice.

Still… I couldn't complain too much. Yara had actually stopped talking to me throughout the lesson.

My headache might have cracked my skull open if she hadn't. That silence, rare as it was, felt like a blessing.

While I lay there, half-dozing, half-planning what I needed to do before robbing that organization the system dumped on me, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

My head shot up instantly.

Of course. Who else could it be? Yara. Always Yara.

I rubbed my eyes and muttered.

"What do you want now?"

"Don't you know how to ask any nicer?" she replied flatly, though her stare carried the usual sharp edge.

"This is even the nicest I can be," I said, deadpan.

Her expression didn't change, but I swore she looked tired of our endless bickering.

For once, she skipped the verbal sparring and went straight to business.

"I want you to follow me."

My instincts immediately flared.

"To where?" I asked cautiously.

"Just follow," she said again, as if that explained everything.

I rolled my eyes.

"You could at least try to be more civilized when kidnapping someone. Maybe lure me with candy or a fake flyer about a lost puppy. Something less obvious."

Her hand curled into a fist, knuckles tightening, though her face remained as blank as always. But I could feel the heat in the air.

"You know," she said, her tone cold but calm, "you're the first person to ever talk to me disrespectfully, make me repeat myself, question me, and annoy me this much… and still be alive. I could just follow my instincts and kill you right now."

I gave her a thin smile, though every nerve in my body screamed caution.

"I'm quite special, it's an honor, Miss Yara. Besides, I already paid the price for my previous actions, so an apology wouldn't really change anything now, would it?"

Her fist loosened at the word Miss Yara. I caught it instantly, the little shift in her posture, the way the tension bled out just slightly.

So that was it. Her weak spot. Praise her, acknowledge her superiority, survive another day.

I filed that survival tip away in the emergency folder in my brain.

If I was stuck with her, I had no choice but to adapt.

"I'll let that slide. Just for today," she said finally, her eyes narrowing. "It won't another time."

"Noted," I replied, forcing my tone casual even though my pulse hadn't slowed down yet.

"So, since you're so curious about why I want you to follow me…" Yara began, her tone flat but with a hint of hesitation. "Uh, well… I want you to go with me to get something to eat. Food's on me."

I just stared at her. No reply. No nod. Just stared.

"Why? Do you still want to kill me that badly, even though you already said you wouldn't?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

Her hand rose to her forehead like my words had physically given her a headache.

Honestly, I wasn't wrong. She looked like she was regretting even opening her mouth to me.

But I had to be cautious. This was Yara. She wasn't just some random girl from class, she was a walking executioner.

If she really wanted me gone, she could pay off an entire restaurant staff to keep quiet while she stabbed me mid-bite.

Or worse, just slip poison into the meal and watch me choke.

Her teeth ground together before she spoke.

"I'm trying to be as generous as possible, but you're taking it for granted. I'm literally saving your butt."

That caught me off guard.

"Saving my butt? Wait, what do you mean by that?"

Most people would've said 'helping you'. But her exact words were 'saving your ass'. And that sounded way too deliberate. Suspicious.

Normal people might have ignored that detail, but not me. Not here. Not in an academy full of rich brats with family secrets and knives hidden behind their smiles.

Her lips curled into a smirk, her eyes lighting up with amusement like she had just caught me stepping into her trap.

She leaned closer, enough that I could feel the chill of her presence.

"Can't you ever let details go?"

"No," I answered instantly.

"Well then… yes, I really did mean it. I said 'saving your ass' because I am." She paused, clearly enjoying this too much, then dropped the bomb. "I know you have less than five hundred dollars left in your bank, don't you?"

My face went blank. The air around me stiffened.

"Courting death?!" I muttered under my breath.

Her smirk vanished in an instant.

"Huh?" She blinked, caught off guard. For a moment she just stared at me, silent, her expression unreadable.

Then realization seemed to dawn on her. Her eyes widened, and she jabbed her finger toward me, her composure cracking.

"You…!"

But instead of finishing her thought, she abruptly turned her head away. Her voice dropped into a mutter.

"…You dare!"

I leaned back, lips tightening. I hated this. Someone digging into my life like that, pulling out details I hadn't even spoken aloud.

It wasn't just casual curiosity either, Yara's kind of digging wasn't normal. It was invasive, suffocating.

Like having my entire existence displayed on an open page for her to flip through whenever she pleased.

For rich and popular people, privacy didn't exist anyway. But me? I wasn't exactly that popular. I had a name, sure. But now, I actually had secrets, things I couldn't let anyone sniff out.

But I'm not sure she can find out about the system.

"So," she said at last, regaining her calm exterior, "are you coming or not?"

I leaned back in my chair, thinking it through. There wasn't much to lose.

At worst, it wasted some time I could've used planning my quest. At best… maybe it wouldn't be too bad.

But if she wanted me to go, I had conditions.

"If you want me to come along, I have a few rules."

Her eyes narrowed.

"…What?"

"First, you pay."

"…I already said I would."

"Second, don't give me a headache."

She just stared at me. No reply. Of course. That one was practically impossible for her.

I continued anyway.

"Third, don't do anything to harm me."

Still silence. But this one I wasn't letting slide.

I tapped my finger against the table sharply, demanding an answer.

Her lips finally moved.

"…Depends."

"Huh?!" I almost choked on my own spit.

That was not the answer I was expecting.

She looked away, as if the conversation had already ended for her.

It was pointless to force her. If she wanted to dodge, she would.

"Fine, fourth rule," I said. "You'll answer any question I ask."

"Still depends. I can't guarantee that."

I exhaled through my nose, glaring at her.

Annoying. Absolutely annoying.

Still, rules one, two, and three were the important ones. Well… mostly one and three. Two was just wishful thinking.

I shrugged.

"Alright then. With that settled…"

I stood, pushing my chair back, and gestured toward the door.

"…Lead the way, Miss Yara."

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