Chapter 52| Notebook

Chapter 52: Chapter 52| Notebook

Zane pushed through the dormitory entrance at 6:15 PM.

He’d used the elevator and climbed to the seventh floor. The seventh floor corridor was quieter than the daytime version. Most students were back in their rooms. The specific evening energy of a building that had run hard all day and was finally exhaling.

He was three steps from room 714 when Dex appeared in the doorway.

Leaning against the frame. Arms crossed. The expression of someone who had information and was deciding how to deliver it.

"Someone came looking for you," Dex said.

Zane stopped. "Who."

"You know that guy who you lost to," Dex said. "The one that kicked your ass in Round Three."

Zane looked at him.

"Ryan?." he asked.

"I don’t know his name," Dex said. "Tall guy with white hair. He left about ten minutes ago." He tilted his head. "Thought you would’ve seen him on your way in."

’Ten minutes,’ Zane thought. ’I was still in the courtyard with Nyx.’

"That asshole," Zane said.

Dex shrugged. "He seemed different from what I expected based on what you told me about him. Not aggressive. Just came, knocked, waited a few minutes, left."

Zane looked at the corridor behind him like Ryan might still be in it.

He wasn’t.

"Fine," Zane said. "Aggression doesn’t always show on people’s faces. He can wait."

He pushed through the room door.

Dropped his bag on the bed. Kicked off his shoes. Sat down still in his training gear.

Then looked at his hands.

His notebook.

He looked at the bed. The desk. His bag.

’Where is...’

’I was holding it when I crossed the courtyard,’ he thought. ’After Nyx left. I had it under my arm when I....’

He stood up fast.

"Dex," he said.

"What," Dex said from his chair without looking up.

"I’m coming back," Zane said. "Don’t touch anything."

He was out the door before Dex could respond.

He took the stairs down to the sixth floor first, scanning the corridor as he moved. Checking the windowsill, the bench outside the stairwell, the spot near the water dispenser where he sometimes set things down without thinking.

Nothing.

He took the elevator the rest of the way down to the main entrance.

The entrance area was quiet. A few students coming and going. The building terminal on the far wall blinking its standby light.

He scanned the space.

No notebook on the floor. Not on the bench near the entrance. Not on the window ledge.

Then he heard footsteps behind him.

He turned.

Ryan Castellan was standing at the entrance doors.

Still here. Hadn’t left after all.

And in his hand — Zane’s notebook.

He was reading it.

Not flipping through it. Reading it. The specific focused attention of someone who had found something interesting and was giving it the time it deserved.

Zane looked at him.

Ryan looked up from the notebook.

Their eyes met.

Neither of them said anything for exactly three seconds.

Then Ryan looked back down at the page he’d been reading.

"Four words," Ryan said. Not mockingly. Just stating it.

"Give me that," Zane said.

Ryan closed the notebook slowly. The deliberate pace of someone who had seen what was inside and was processing the gap between what he’d expected to find and what was actually there.

He held it out.

Zane crossed the entrance and took it. Checked the page. Four words. Still there. Undisturbed.

He closed it.

"You were reading my notebook," Zane said.

"I found it on the bench outside," Ryan said. "Picked it up to return it." He paused. "It fell open."

"To the hero name page," Zane said.

"To the hero name page," Ryan confirmed.

They stood in the entrance area. The building terminal blinking. A student passing through without registering either of them.

Ryan looked at him with the expression that didn’t have a category yet. Not the social campaign energy. Not the recalibrated neutrality from the corridor. Not even the focused opponent energy from the Round Three arena floor.

Something else. Something that had apparently been sitting in him since Maren went down on a stretcher and he’d walked off the floor without acknowledging what he’d done.

"You came to the dorm earlier," Zane said.

"Yeah," Ryan said.

"Why," Zane said.

Ryan looked at him for a long moment.

"I went over the top," he said. "In the match against..." he paused. "The C-rank girl."

Zane kept his expression flat.

"Her name is Maren," Zane said.

"Maren," Ryan said. The name landing like he was making sure he had it right. "I went over the top. The hit that put her in the infirmary. That wasn’t a trial move. That was something else."

Zane said nothing.

"I’m not apologising," Ryan said. Flat. Honest. "I don’t do that. But I’m.." he stopped. Looked at the entrance doors. "I’m acknowledging it. To you specifically. Since you clearly have a problem with it."

’To me specifically,’ Zane thought. ’Not to Maren. Not to the institution. To me.’

’Because he clocked that it mattered to me,’ Zane thought. ’And he came to address it on those terms.’

The Ryan file shifted.

Not closed. Not even close to closed.

But shifted.

"Noted," Zane said.

Ryan looked at him.

"The name," Ryan said. "On that page." He glanced at the notebook in Zane’s hand. "I thought I saw projection boy." He laughed.

Zane looked at him.

"Projection boy?." Zane said flatly.

"Four words on that page," Ryan said. "First two I saw." He shrugged. "Could be wrong."

"You’re wrong," Zane said.

Ryan smiled. Not the social campaign smile. Something more genuine than that. The specific amusement of someone who had found something unexpected and was enjoying the surprise.

"I’ll make you pay back one way or another," Zane said. He held up a hand before Ryan could respond. "Friendly oath. You see."

Ryan looked at him for a second.

Then something pulled at the corner of his mouth. Not the social campaign smile. Just genuine amusement from someone who hadn’t expected that response.

"Friendly oath," Ryan repeated.

"Friendly oath," Zane confirmed.

Ryan held his gaze one more moment.

"I’ll hold you to that," he said.

He turned and walked out the entrance doors without looking back.

Zane stood in the entrance area alone.

’Rat,’ he thought.

He didn’t know if it was an insult or compliment but he gave an obnoxious expression.

’Not wrong,’ he thought. ’Just missing the full picture.’

The file stayed open.

Zane stood in the entrance area alone.

His Notebook finally in his hand.

’Fucking asshole,’ he thought.

He almost smiled.

『 System Note: Ryan Castellan is not an ally. He is not an enemy either. He is something the current framework does not have a clean label for. File accordingly. 』