Vivian didn't sleep that night.
Every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was the look on Kyle's face—the quiet way he had turned away from her. No anger. No demands. Just disappointment.
That was worse than anything else.
She had expected something. A confrontation. A second chance to explain. But Kyle didn't even give her that.
And maybe… maybe she didn't deserve it.
---
The Days That Followed
Kyle didn't avoid her, but he didn't acknowledge her either.
He sat across from her at meals, but he never spoke. He passed her in the halls without so much as a glance. He trained alongside her in group drills, never hesitating to block her attacks or counter her movements—but it was mechanical. Detached.
Like she was just another soldier.
Jace noticed first.
"You two aren't talking," he remarked one afternoon, flopping onto the bench beside Vivian in the mess hall.
She barely stirred her food. "We're fine."
Jace snorted. "That's a lie."
She shot him a glare, but it lacked real fire.
Jace sighed, leaning back. "He's hurt, you know. Kyle doesn't say much, but he feels things deeply. If he trusted you once, that means something."
Vivian's grip tightened on her fork. "I didn't have a choice."
Jace's expression darkened. "That's an excuse."
She flinched.
Silence settled between them.
Then Jace sighed, rubbing his face. "Look, I'm not saying he'll never forgive you. But you're gonna have to be the one to fix it."
Vivian scoffed. "And how do I do that?"
Jace shrugged. "Figure it out."
Mix properly pls
Kyle's Payback (Without Even Trying)
Silence was its own kind of punishment. But sometimes, the universe had a way of delivering justice without anyone lifting a finger.
Vivian learned that the hard way.
---
The shift in treatment was subtle at first.
Vivian had always been used to dealing with harassment. It was an old routine by now—sidestepping bullies, taking the insults, keeping her head down. But this was different.
Before, the students who mocked her did it casually, like she was an easy target no one cared about. They tripped her, called her names, pushed her just enough to humiliate her—but never enough to break her completely.
But now?
Now, it was different.
It started when some of the Level 2 and 3 students—the ones who usually ignored her suffering out of self-preservation—began looking at her differently. They weren't just avoiding her anymore.
They were pitying her.
She didn't understand at first. Not until she caught part of a conversation between two students in the mess hall.
"Did you hear?"
"Yeah. Kyle doesn't talk to her anymore."
"Guess she really messed up."
"She must've done something bad for him to cut her off like that."
And just like that, Vivian realized—Kyle hadn't needed to do anything.
His silence was enough.
Kyle wasn't just any student. He was rising fast, catching the attention of instructors and stronger students alike. He had respect, even if he didn't ask for it. He wasn't powerful yet, but people were watching him.
And now they were watching her.
---
The social shift was brutal.
Before, the bullying had been almost… casual. Just a game for those stronger than her.
But now, they acted like she was tainted.
Some students outright refused to spar with her, as if associating with her would drag them down.
Others sneered when she entered a room, muttering things under their breath. "There goes Kyle's reject."
Even the ones who used to mock her with amusement now did it with disgust.
Before, she had been weak. That had been bad enough.
Now, she was weak and untrustworthy.
And in this academy, that was worse than anything.
---
The worst part?
Kyle didn't even seem to notice.
Or maybe he did. Maybe he just didn't care.
Vivian saw it during training.
Before, when she struggled, Kyle would have stepped in—not to help, but to push her forward. To make her improve. To challenge her in a way no one else did.
Now?
He didn't even glance her way.
She got knocked down in a sparring match? He didn't react.
Her training partner deliberately tripped her? No acknowledgment.
She walked past him in the hall? Nothing.
It was like she had never existed.
And that, somehow, was worse than any punishment.
---
It all came to a head during a strategy simulation test.
The students were divided into teams, and as fate would have it, Vivian and Kyle ended up in the same group.
Before the test:
The team huddled, discussing tactics. Kyle gave instructions, efficiently sorting out their roles.
He assigned tasks to everyone—except her.
Vivian waited, expecting him to acknowledge her presence. But instead, he just moved on, treating her like dead air.
She finally spoke. "What do you want me to do?"
Kyle's gaze flicked to her for the briefest second before he turned away. "Do whatever you want."
No orders. No role. Nothing.
The others shifted uncomfortably. Some smirked. Kyle had just publicly confirmed what everyone suspected—Vivian Marchand was nothing to him.
---
During the test:
Kyle was sharp, focused, leading the team with brutal efficiency.
Vivian tried to contribute—tried to support from the back—but no one cared. They didn't listen. They didn't even bother rejecting her ideas.
They just acted like she wasn't there.
And when they won the match?
Kyle turned, gave a brief nod to the others, and walked off.
Vivian stood there, hands clenched, throat tight.
This was worse than hatred.
At least if Kyle had been angry, she could have argued. She could have fought back.
But this?
This was indifference.
And indifference was a wound that didn't heal.
---
Kyle's Perspective
Kyle didn't hate Vivian.
That would've been easier.
Hate was simple. It was an emotion you could burn away. But disappointment? That sat in his chest, cold and unmoving.
He still remembered her hesitation. The guilt in her eyes.
She knew what she was doing.
And she had done it anyway.
That's what stung the most.
Jace had tried to bring it up once, but Kyle had shut it down with a look. He didn't want to talk about it.
Instead, he threw himself into training.
---
Late at Night – The Training Grounds
The air was cool, the training field empty. Kyle's muscles ached from hours of drills, but he didn't stop. He welcomed the burn.
He needed to be stronger.
Stronger so he wouldn't be caught off guard again. Stronger so no one could manipulate him like that ever again.
A quiet rustle caught his attention.
He didn't turn. He already knew who it was.
Vivian.
She hesitated at the edge of the field, watching him.
Kyle ignored her. Kept training. Kept moving.
A long silence passed.
Then, softly, she spoke. "Kyle…"
He didn't stop.
Didn't answer.
She sighed. "I—"
Whatever she was about to say, she cut herself off. Because she knew, just like he did, that words wouldn't fix this.
So instead, she stepped onto the field.
And took a fighting stance.
Kyle finally looked at her.
She met his gaze head-on. "If you won't talk to me, then fight me."
A test. A challenge. A way to force his attention.
Kyle exhaled slowly. Fine.
If that's what she wanted—then so be it.
He shifted into his own stance.
And the fight began.
---