Rune’s POV
People always assumed I liked attention.
They were wrong.
I hated it, and I always noticed it—the way conversations stopped the second I walked into a room.
It was annoying.
Today’s audience just happened to be a university hallway instead of an underground arena.
“Did you see that?”
“Harlway actually stepped in.”
“I thought they were going to fight.”
“I’ve never seen Paxton back down.”
I shoved my headphones over my ears.
There wasn’t any music playing; I just wanted people to stop talking to me.
It rarely worked.
I walked straight past the growing crowd without looking back.
Problem solved.
At least, it should have been.
“H-Hey!”
I ignored it.
My class was in five minutes—not that I planned on staying for all of it.
“Wait up!”
Still ignored.
Then, something wrapped gently around my wrist—not hard enough to stop me, but enough to make me pause.
I looked down at the slender, smooth fingers and fair skin.
I followed the hand upward and took note of the pink hair and big brown eyes.
The transfer student.
She slowly let go the second our eyes met.
“Oh.” She cleared her throat awkwardly.
“Sorry.”
I waited for her to speak about why she was following me.
She took a small breath.
“I’m Odessa.”
Silence.
“Odessa Hopkins.”
More silence.
She blinked.
“You’re supposed to say your name.”
“I know that.”
“Oh.”
Another awkward pause.
“You already know my name?”
“Professor Bennett said it yesterday.”
“Right.” She laughed nervously.
“That makes sense.”
I looked toward the hallway, then back at her.
“Were you stopping me for introductions?”
“No.”
“Good.” I turned to leave.
“Wait.”
There it was again—her hand lightly catching the sleeve of my hoodie this time.
I looked at it, then at her, and she immediately let go.
“Sorry.”
She seemed to say that word a lot.
“I just…” She pointed vaguely toward the academic building.
“We need to talk.”
“We don’t.”
“Yes, we do.”
“No.”
I resumed walking, and she hurried after me.
“Professor Bennett assigned me to tutor you.”
“I know.”
“So…”
“So?”
“We should probably decide when to meet.”
“We shouldn’t,” I said. You are reading on g.com, the official source.
She frowned.
“You can’t just refuse.”
“I already did.”
“You walked out of the class yesterday.”
“I did.”
“That’s not how this works.”
“It worked.”
I had almost reached the staircase when she stepped in front of me.
I sighed; she was surprisingly persistent.
“You really don’t give up.”
“I’m trying to help you.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“You failed two quizzes already.”
“I know.”
“You have the lowest grades in class.”
“I know.”
“You might fail the semester.”
“I know.”
She folded her arms.
“You don’t sound concerned.”
“I’m not.”
She stared at me as though trying to figure out if I was joking.
I wasn’t.
School wasn’t my priority.
Passing classes didn’t pay my mother’s debts, so everything else came second.
She exhaled.
“Can you at least pretend to care?”
“No, I can’t.”
“Just a little?”
“No.”
“A tiny bit?”
“No.”
She rubbed her forehead.
“You’re impossible to deal with.”
“I’ve been told.” By professors, teachers, neighbors, my father…
the list was long.
She looked up at me again, and then the next words out of her mouth made me stop walking completely.
“I know about the underground fights.”
For the first time that morning, I looked at her properly—not as the transfer student and not as Professor Bennett’s problem, but as a threat.
She stood there clutching the strap of her backpack so tightly her knuckles had turned white.
She looked nervous.
“What did you say?”
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed.
“I…”
For a second, I thought she might back down.
Instead, she straightened her shoulders.
“I know, Rune,” she said my underground name.
Silence stretched between us.
Students continued walking past, completely unaware that my heartbeat had just become a little louder.
I took one slow step toward her, but she didn’t move.
“You know…” My voice stayed calm.
“…what exactly?”
She hesitated, then quietly answered, “I was there during your fight.”
My jaw tightened and my eyes narrowed.
I glanced down both ends of the hallway; no one seemed to be paying attention.
Good.
I looked back at her.
“You’ve got the wrong person.”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“I saw your tattoos.”
I said nothing.
“I saw your hair.”
Still nothing.
“…you caught my handkerchief.”
That made me freeze.
I remembered the white handkerchief with the silver letter stitched into the corner.
The girl who’d thrown it was her?
“You.”
The word slipped out before I could stop it, and she blinked.
“You remember?”
“I remember the handkerchief.”
“I was wondering if you did.”
I sighed.
“What do you want?”
Her expression became serious again.
“For you to let me tutor you.”
“No.”
She frowned.
“I can help you pass.”
“I don’t want to pass.”
“You need to.”
“I don’t.”
“Professor Bennett—”
“I don’t care what Professor Bennett wants.”
She stared at me for several long seconds, then she sighed.
“I really didn’t want to do this.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Do what?”
She looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear, then she lowered her voice.
“If you don’t agree to the tutoring…” She paused.
“…I’ll report the underground fighting ring.”
I went dead still.
I searched her face; she wasn’t smiling, and she wasn’t bluffing for fun.
She was actually serious.
“You’d do that?”
“I don’t want to, but I will.”
My eyes hardened.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I know it’s illegal.”
“You don’t know who’s involved.”
“I don’t need to.” She met my gaze without flinching.
“I’ll tell the police everything I saw.”
I laughed.
She actually thought it was that simple.
“You think that place would disappear because you made one report?”
“I think it’ll start an investigation.”
“And if it does?”
She hesitated, and I took another step closer.
“What happens to everyone working there?
The waitresses?
The cleaners?
The security guards?
The men getting paid to feed their families?”
Her confidence wavered.
“And the fighters?”
I held her gaze.
“You think they fight because it’s fun?”
She looked away for the first time.
“You don’t,” I said.
Because people like her had never needed to.
They’d never wondered where rent money would come from or counted coins to buy medicine.
She didn’t know.
How could she?
I exhaled slowly.
“So, don’t threaten something you don’t understand.”
Odessa Hopkins looked completely speechless.
And I couldn’t help but smile for the first time in days.