UNIVERSITY ARC
Raksha stood by the results board, her eyes gleaming with joy.
It should've been a moment of celebration—laughing, high-fiving friends, soaking in the praise. But Raksha? She just stood there, still as a statue, staring at her name like it wasn't even real.
I watched from a distance. Something about her silence unsettled me. Not in a dangerous way—but in a way that made me wonder…
What's really going on behind those eyes?
Everyone saw the bright, perfect student. The girl who could ace an exam and silence a crowd with one look.
But I saw more.
There were moments when I caught her lost in thought, her smile lingering too long, like it was stitched in place. Times when laughter didn't quite reach her eyes. And every now and then, just for a flash, I saw a flicker of something… deeper.
Pain. Loneliness.
A longing to belong to a world she was trained to never trust. And for once, I didn't feel like teasing her. I didn't roll my eyes or make some sarcastic comment.
I just stood there, unsure of what to say.
Maybe… she's hiding something. Not a secret. But a scar.
Something from her past—something that still haunted her in quiet moments like this.
I could've asked her about it. I wanted to. But as I watched her eyes shimmer with victory, I held myself back.
Because if this was one of her rare moments of happiness, I didn't want to ruin it.
Some things are better left unspoken—until the right time.
...
Later that evening…
In my hostel room, as I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, her face kept flashing in my mind.
That smile. That quiet joy. That flicker of sadness behind her strength.
I thought about everything she'd done—protecting me, supporting me, even trying to blend into a world that didn't feel like hers.
And I realized something.
Maybe my mother didn't just send her to guard me. Maybe… she sent her to heal me.
For the first time, I wanted to treat her differently—not as someone who was assigned to me, not as a protector, not as a mystery to solve.
But as someone who deserved to be seen.
...
Sleep was a distant thought that night.
I tossed, turned, and stared at the ceiling as if answers might be written there. But the silence kept pulling me back to Raksha. Her laugh. Her sharp tongue. Her flawless scores. Her sword.
Her laughter in class, the sharp glint in her eyes when she got competitive, the way she acted like nothing could touch her. But now... I saw more. The exhaustion behind her smile. The sadness she never let escape.
The image of her holding that golden card in the same rank as me—it still lingered. And somehow, it made me feel… ashamed. Not because she beat me, but because I never imagined she could.
A part of me used to look down on her—just a brat with good reflexes.
But now…..
I stepped out onto the balcony, needing air, needing to clear this storm in my head.
The wind was still, the night wrapped around the world like a blanket. From five floors up, I had the perfect view of the front gate.
A figure standing. Still. Focused. Alone.
Her back leaned casually against the wall, but her eyes were scanning the shadows like a hawk. I saw the glint of the sword on her back.
My eyes widened. It was her. Raksha.
What is she doing there late at night?
Hold on! Was she guarding?
Then it hit me—this wasn't a one-night thing. She'd been doing this every night, hadn't she? All this time? While I slept… ?! And I never even noticed?
But how?!! Then…..how could she be able to…?
She didn't see me—too focused. But something about her posture tonight… it wasn't her usual act. No humming. No tapping her foot. No playing games. Like I was seeing someone who I didn't know at all.
She was serious.
I felt something squeeze inside my chest.
I found her still at her post as I walked down the steps, barefoot on the cold marble. Her head turned sharply before I even reached her.
"Huh?" she blinked, pretending to be annoyed. "What's the big idea, Mister gold card? Can't sleep so you thought you'd come down and ruin my patrol?"
I smiled faintly. "You always guard like this?"
"Tch. Of course. What, you thought I was out here catching fireflies?"
She tried to be casual. But I saw it. The faintest tension in her shoulders. The way she avoided my eyes.
"Every night?" I asked, softly this time.
She shrugged. "It's my job. Well, duh. You disturbed the sacred silence of Raksha, the Night Watcher. Be ashamed."
She crossed her arms, pretending to pout. But her eyes looked heavier than usual, as if they hadn't rested in days.
"You're not a machine." I replied.
She gave a dramatic gasp. "How dare you! I am a sleek, ultra-powerful, one-of-a-kind anti-bad-guy system! Fully upgraded!"
"No. You didn't get it."
Silence.
She glanced away.
I stepped forward. "You're awake all night guarding me. Then you attend every class, study harder than anyone, act like nothing's wrong... I didn't see it before. But now I can't unsee it."
Her lips parted, like she was about to deflect with a joke. But I stopped, by stepping closer, lowering my voice. "You don't have to do this."
Raksha blinked. She wasn't expecting that.
"Let's go for a walk," I said.
She tilted her head. "What? Now?"
"Yes."
She hesitated. "But—what if someone attacks?"
"I trust you'll protect me with your ultra-powerful, sleek machine reflexes," I teased back.
Her cheeks puffed out slightly. "Hmph. You're lucky I'm feeling generous."
....
We walked through the quiet campus, side by side. No destination. Just space.
The sky stretched endlessly above us, silver-lit clouds drifting past the moon. Her footsteps were light, quiet. For once, she wasn't acting like a clown.
"You really don't sleep, do you?" I said.
"Nope," she muttered. "I'm like Batman. But cuter."
I smiled. "You study during the day. You guard me at night. When do you rest?"
"I don't," she said flatly. "That's the secret. I run on noodles and spite."
I glanced at her. She avoided my eyes. Then softer—quieter than before—I said, "You don't have to pretend to be around me."
She flinched. Just a little.
"I'm not pretending," she whispered. "This is just… how I survive."
I looked at her. Something was unsure in her eyes. Like…I can't explain it. Maybe it can only be understood by facing it.
We stopped near a bench under a tree. She sat first, legs swinging childishly.
"What's your story? I know something is bothering you. What is it?" I asked.
I need to know about her. That's the only option for me to understand and be able to help her.
"Hey, where is it coming from? Are you sleepy, Mr. boss?" She replied, as usual.
I know, she was not that kind of person who would tell that easily.
"My mother kept me locked away for ten years." I started, sitting near her.
Her gaze shifted back to me.
"I was told I wasn't ready. That I couldn't handle the world. I lived in shadows, without friends, without answers. I thought... maybe you're like me. Just suffering in a different way."
She blinked. That teasing spark in her eyes?
Gone. Replaced by something raw. But only for a second.
Then she scoffed, hands on hips. "Wow. What a drama king. Should I get you a violin or just a tissue?"
I chuckled softly. "You're not fooling me, Raksha."
She narrowed her eyes. "I'm not trying to."
Another silence.
Then I spoke, gently: "Look, I can clearly tell by looking at you. Don't forget that I already faced it all like you. But I have a great friendship that helps me to recover. The truth is, sharing is the only way to lite us, Raksha. Can you do it?"
She froze. For a moment, the wall cracked.
Her teasing smirk faltered.
"I..." her voice was low. And this time, she didn't recover fast.
"I never asked for this," she muttered, looking at the sky. "My family forced me into martial arts. Said it was my destiny. I didn't get to choose."
Her voice trembled.
"I used to sneak into libraries. Just to touch books. I wanted to study, to learn like normal people. But every time I tried… they'd pull me back. Training. Targets. Rules. No crying. No complaining. Just obey."
A bitter laugh escaped her.
"I got so good at killing… that I forgot how to feel."
I said nothing. My throat tightened. She looked up at the sky.
"Even when I topped those exams… I didn't feel proud. Not even cried. Of course I never was. Just... relieved. Like I proved something to ghosts."
I turned to her, eyes stinging. "You… never cried? Not even once?"
She shook her head. "No. I know it can't change anything."
The way she said it—like it was both a badge of honor and a curse—broke something in me.
So that's why she always teases people. Like at least that can help her to skip, able to handle any situation like it was nothing.
"You're stronger than me," I whispered. "Stronger than anyone I know."
She didn't speak. Just stared at the sky like it was safer than looking at me.
Then—softly—she whispered, "You're the first person to ever say that."
I reached out, barely touching her wrist.
"I mean it."
She didn't pull away. Didn't tease. Didn't joke. She just sat there, for the first time without a mask.
Raksha tilted her head, eyes fixed on the sky. "You ever think stars are just… watching us? Like an old friend who got tired of waiting to meet?"
I blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Never thought of it that way."
She gave a small smile. "Yeah. Me neither. Just made it up now. Sounds cool, though, right?"
I smiled. "Cooler than you pretending you don't care about anything."
She rolled her eyes and muttered, "There he goes again. Getting smart."
I looked over, surprised by the shift in her tone.
As time moving, she told me about the places she visited and how many people she irritated.
As we started moving back, she was started digging into her jacket, and a second later, she pulled out something and offered it to me. A photo—slightly creased at the edges, like it had been carried around too long.
"I found this in an old box," she said, quieter than usual. "My family. When I was still... just Raksha."
I took it from her hands and looked down.
The picture was simple. There were three people. A man with a strict posture, a younger Raksha, no sword, no mask. A little girl standing between her parents.
But my eyes landed on the woman beside her. And—my breath caught.
I stopped walking.
No. It couldn't be.
That face. That woman. I'd seen her before—no, I remembered her.
My grip on the photo tightened. A memory buried deep clawed its way out.
The day when it was raining, She'd burst into that dark room. Her voice was completely nervous—shaky: "Don't be afraid. I'm here."
Then—chaos. A blade slicing through air. A scream. Her body falling. My eyes dropped on her.
I swallowed hard.
That dream…..what is it? Is she real? Why am I seeing her now?
"Manoj?" Raksha's voice broke through my haze. "What is it?"
I shook my head quickly, forcing a smile. "Nothing. I just… it's nothing.
Raksha's expression changed for just a second—too fast to fully read—but it was there. Then she grabbed the photo back with a shrug.
"Nothing, huh?" she said with a smirk. "Tch. You are sleepy, I guess."
I chuckled faintly, but inside, I was shaken.
That was her. The woman in that dream.
But why? Who are these people? Why….why I'm feeling like Raksha was still hiding something?
I didn't ask. Maybe this wasn't the time.