The shrill buzz of the alarm cut through the still air, piercing Rai's ears before he slammed it off. His arm dropped back onto the mattress like dead weight, and for a long moment, he just stared at the ceiling fan spinning slowly above. The early morning light crept through the half-closed blinds of his small apartment, painting long stripes across the hardwood floor.
It was supposed to be an important day—his first day of university—but all he felt was a tightness in his chest. A quiet emptiness that never seemed to leave.
His father used to say that architecture was the art of understanding space—not just building it. It was about understanding the silence between structures, the weight of emptiness, the story told by the bones of a place. Rai held on to those words like a lifeline.
The morning routine followed. Brushing his teeth. Shower. Cereal. Everything performed with mechanical precision. Even the mirror, fogged and cracked at the corner, seemed to watch him with dull disinterest. His eyes lingered on the faint scar along his wrist. He touched it out of habit, not pain. It had been there for as long as he could remember. No memory, no story. Just... there.
Outside, the city was alive. Buses roared past. Students chattered in clusters as they made their way toward the university gates. But Rai moved through the current like a ghost, unbothered and unnoticed.
Orientation was a blur. Professors gave tired speeches. Students shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Rai sat in the back, silent and observing. None of it excited him. None of it stirred that dormant part of him he kept locked away.
When it was over, he left without a word and headed straight to the MMA gym where he worked part-time. The smell of sweat, mats, and old leather greeted him like an old friend. Here, among the grunts and punches, Rai found a sliver of purpose. He wasn't the strongest, but his technique was sharp, his instincts honed. He'd learned discipline here. Focus. Control.
After training, he picked up groceries and walked the quiet road home. The sun had dipped below the buildings, turning the sky orange.
She was waiting for him again.
Sumidhi, leaning against the railing outside his apartment complex, arms folded, her expression soft.
"Big first day?" she asked.
Rai shrugged, unlocking the gate. "Nothing special."
"That so?" She smirked. "Want to tell me about it over dinner? I can cook, you know."
"I'm... just tired," he muttered. "Maybe another time."
Sumidhi didn't argue. She just gave a small nod, the kind that said she understood, even if it hurt a little. "Take care, Rai."
He watched her leave before going inside. The groceries sat untouched on the counter. He collapsed onto the couch, pulled out his tablet, and let himself drown in the world of manga and manhwa. At least in those stories, people fought for something.
Three months passed like that. College. Gym. Repeat. Until the group project came—and everything began to change.