A Honda Rebel 500 tore across the school grounds, its engine letting out a thunderous, rhythmic roar. Students currently in the middle of their lessons peered out through the windows.

They already knew exactly who was behind the handlebars. Given the stunt she was pulling, everyone wanted to see the spectacle that was bound to follow.

Indiana pulled into the motorcycle lot on the side of the school building, parking in a frantic rush.

"INDIANA!!!" A shout, no less thunderous than her engine, echoed through the entire campus. Indiana, mid-pull as she removed her helmet, jolted in surprise.

"Mr. Yang, I'm sorry! I only did it because I was already late!" Indiana pleaded with the disciplinary officer.

"No more excuses! Not only are you late, but you’ve also cost the school a fortune by tearing up the field’s turf! Go to the Principal’s office. Right. Now!" Mr. Yang barked. The small man, possessing a face carved from hard, unforgiving lines, glared at her with fury.

"N—No! Can't I just do something else for detention? Please, anywhere but the Principal's office..." Indiana begged.

Mr. Yang shook his head firmly.

Indiana let out a defeated sigh and gave a reluctant nod. She had never wished more for the Principal's office to be further away; she took tiny, agonizingly slow steps just to kill time.

But there she was. With a wave of overwhelming dread, Indiana knocked on Principal Mary's door.

"Enter," a cold voice called from within.

Indiana took a deep breath, bracing herself for the inevitable.

Principal Mary was facing away from her. From her posture, Indiana could tell the woman was massaging her temples.

"Can't you go just one day without embarrassing me? Just one day, Diana, where you act like the daughter of a respectable principal," Mary muttered, her voice low and dangerously controlled.

Indiana’s brow furrowed at the sound of her mother calling her "Diana." Mary knew Indiana hated that name; it sounded weak, soft, and overly feminine.

Her late father had named her Indiana, and that was the name she would carry with pride.

Their relationship had been fractured ever since her father died six years ago. Her mother had become a workaholic, drowning herself in her career and leaving a young Indiana to nurse her wounds alone. It was that abandonment that had forged her into the hardened, rebellious girl she was today.

"It’s Indiana. Please respect that. And let's cut the small talk—which hall do I have to scrub after school?" Indiana challenged.

Mary swiveled her chair around to face Indiana. In her hand was a stack of Indiana's quiz papers. Indiana’s jaw tightened instantly, and she looked away, trying to swallow the surge of shame rising in her chest.

"What do you plan on becoming if you keep slacking off like this, Diana?! Isn't it enough that you act like a delinquent? Do you have to intentionally sabotage your future, too?!" Mary finally snapped, losing her composure. She threw the papers toward Indiana, letting them scatter across the floor.

Indiana’s expression turned dark. So many emotions were bubbling up, screaming to be let out, but she refused to give her mother the satisfaction. She wouldn't let herself look defeated.

"What do you care, Mrs. Mary? This is my life. I’m the one living it. Why do you suddenly care now?! Oh, right—it’s probably because I’ve finally succeeded in trashing your precious reputation," Indiana spat.

Mother and daughter locked eyes, glaring at each other like two predators ready to pounce, separated only by the mahogany desk between them.

"Fix this. I don't care how, but that is your punishment. Your grades must meet the passing requirements for Oxyord University. If you fail, I am stripping the name 'Stuart' from your last name. Your father would be ashamed to claim a daughter like you. You have until the end of next semester," Mary delivered the ultimatum without a hint of emotion.

Tears welled in Indiana’s eyes before she could stop them.

"You are the most hateful woman in the world! I'm ashamed to call you my mother! It’s no wonder Dad died early being married to you!" Indiana cursed, her emotions finally overflowing.

Mary simply smiled. She had won. She had shaken Indiana’s defenses; she still held the reins.

"You’re going to study with this boy. Whatever it takes, he’s the one who’s going to help you reach your goal," Mary commanded, once again throwing a stack of papers toward Indiana. These ones, however, were test results with perfect scores.

Indiana picked up the flawless papers and read the name printed at the top.

Finnick Axton.

Is there even a kid by that name in my class? Indiana thought.

Indiana didn't offer a reply. Burning with rage, she stormed out, slamming the door behind her so hard the frame rattled.

Crazy old hag, Indiana cursed.

However, the thought of losing the name 'Stuart' made her heart sink. It was the only thing she had left of her father, and she wouldn't let her mother take that away from her.

Mary, for her part, knew Indiana wasn't stupid. She just needed motivation, and Indiana’s greatest motivator had always been a challenge. It was a game Duncan—her late husband—and their daughter used to play all the time.

Indiana made it back to class, ignoring the teacher at the front as she walked to her desk.

Her eyes swept the room and landed on the quiet boy who, as it turned out, had been sitting directly in front of her all along.

He was an awkward guy who looked like he didn't belong in this world. Every move he made was silent, as if he’d be eliminated if he made even the slightest sound. Indiana wouldn't have even noticed he existed if it hadn't been for Mary’s orders.

To Indiana, Finnick was just a useless NPC—background noise in a game.

Who would have guessed that this very boy was about to flip Indiana's life upside down?

On the other side of the desk, Finnick felt his back burning. He was acutely aware that Indiana was staring a hole through him, but he couldn't fathom why. He had never crossed her path before. What could possibly have caught the delinquent girl's attention?

"Hm—" Finnick shifted uncomfortably, but he had to endure it for the remainder of the period.

As soon as the bell rang for lunch, Finnick tried to slip away toward the library to put some distance between himself and Indiana. He had a bad feeling about her.

Unfortunately, he ran straight into Jax and his crew of bullies in the hall.

Jax shoved Finnick into a locker with a loud, metallic thud. The flow of students heading to lunch came to a halt; they gave the troublemakers space, settling in for the free entertainment.

"Where do you think you're going, rat? Why don't you just disappear? You're an eyesore to the rest of the planet," Jax sneered, his face twisted in disgust.

"Don't be like that, Jax. He's actually pretty useful, you know..." Brock, one of Jax's lackeys, interjected.

Jax looked ready to snap at Brock for talking back, but Brock quickly added, "Wait for it—he’s useful as a punching bag! Hahaha!" Brock’s laughter was echoed by Jax and Rhett.

"You're right about that," Jax smirked.

A second later, Jax’s fist buried itself in Finnick’s stomach, making him gasp for air and slump to the floor.

"Tsk—crap, I touched his clothes. Now I smell like a coward," Jax insulted, shaking his hand as if brushing off invisible filth, his friends laughing along.

Indiana watched the whole scene and scoffed.

'What a total NPC. He can't even make a sound when he's hurt. Pathetic creature,' she mocked silently, watching Finnick lie on the floor, pretending to be out cold.

Jax raised his foot, looking like he was about to deliver a heavy kick to Finnick’s head.

Wait, he's no use to me if he's dead, Indiana decided.

"Baby!" Indiana shouted at Jax.

Jax’s kick froze in mid-air. He turned to Indiana with a wide grin.

"Babe! I didn't think you were coming to this zoo today!" Jax greeted her, swaggering over to Indiana and kissing her deeply.

Indiana glanced at Finnick, who was peeping at them from the floor with an expressionless gaze. Indiana glared at him, her eyes screaming a single command:

This is your chance. Run!

And just like that, Finnick slipped away unnoticed, exactly as he was meant to.

'Was it just my imagination, or did that delinquent girl just help me?' Finnick wondered.

He couldn't shake the nagging thought.

"You owe me one," Indiana’s voice cut through the silence, startling the air behind Finnick as he sat buried under a mountain of books in the library.

She expected him to jump, or at least flinch. To her surprise, the boy didn't even blink.

Indiana felt a flicker of unease. His silence didn't feel like the result of social anxiety; it felt like a deliberate choice. A calculated move. Her gut screamed that something was off.

"Thank you," Finnick replied—short, formal, and utterly devoid of emotion.

"I don't actually need your gratitude. I need something else," Indiana stated, cutting straight to the point.

About time she said what she really wanted. I have no idea what a girl like her could possibly want from me, but I might as well listen—if only to get her out of my sight faster, Finnick thought.

Indiana slid a folded paper across the table: an application form for Oxyord University. "I want to get in here. Tutor me," she commanded, pointing at the logo.

"Pfft—what?" A short, dry laugh escaped Finnick before he could stop it.

Indiana’s eyes flared. She saw it as a mockery. "What? Someone like you thinks they can look down on me? Do you have a death wish?! If I’d known you were this arrogant, I would’ve let Jax rearrange your brain earlier!" she hissed, her temper flaring.

Finnick didn't flinch at her outburst.

"I already said thank you, didn't I?" Finnick said, his tone bordering on a taunt. "I don't think your 'help' earlier was quite big enough to cover a request this impossible."

Indiana’s rage peaked. "You know, I was wrong to think you were just some nice guy who’d help without a second thought. I was dead wrong. I hope you’re happy in your little hypocritical bubble!" She stood up, ready to storm out.

"Wait. I didn't say no," Finnick said, his voice dropping an octave. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "I’m just saying the price has to be higher than what happened in the hall."

Indiana, who had felt in control of the situation just a moment ago, suddenly felt the tables turn. She felt... intimidated. How?

It was his eyes—sharp, focused, and completely unreadable. Behind those thick, dorky glasses, Indiana noticed something for the first time: his eyes were a piercing, bright blue. And he was handsome. Strikingly so.

He’s hiding all of this? If he ditched the glasses and styled that hair, he’d have every girl in school chasing him. And wait... are those muscles under his sleeves? I thought he was just some scrawny, slouching nerd. This guy is definitely trained. He’s a complete wildcard.

"So, what do you want?" she asked, her voice losing some of its edge.

Finnick didn't answer immediately. He stared at her for a long beat, as if he were weighing her worth. Indiana shifted, the silence becoming unbearable. "Why are you looking at me like that?" she snapped.

Finnick finally exhaled, relaxing into his seat. "Simple," he said. "If I agree to tutor you, we do it my way."

Indiana crossed her arms. "Sounds like a bad deal."

"For me, maybe," Finnick replied flatly. "For Oxyord, it’s still not even enough."

Indiana scoffed. "I don't need your insults."

"No," Finnick countered. "But you need someone to tell you the truth, however bitter it is."

He reached out and snatched the Oxyord form from her hand without asking. His eyes scanned the lines with clinical speed.

"Your math scores are a disaster."

Indiana started to protest, "Hey—"

"Literature is mediocre at best," Finnick continued, ignoring her. "And this personal statement..." He stopped, a small frown forming.

Indiana narrowed her eyes. "What? It’s good, isn't it?"

Finnick held the paper up slightly. "This isn't even an essay. It’s a laundry list of complaints about your life. It’s trash."

Indiana felt a sharp sting in her chest. "Dammit, you didn't even read the whole thing."

"I didn't have to." Finnick’s voice was calm, which only made his words cut deeper.

Indiana leaned in, her eyes burning. This guy thinks he’s so smart! Who the hell does he think he is?! "Fine," she challenged, her voice a low growl. "If you’re so brilliant, what’s the plan?"

Finnick set the paper back on the table. "You will study every day."

Indiana’s eyebrows shot up. "Every day?!"

"Two hours minimum."

Indiana shook her head immediately. "No way. I can't do that."

"See?" Finnick gave a small, dismissive shrug. "I wasn't even finished."

Indiana let out a frustrated growl, tempted to claw the smug look off his face. Instead, she gritted out, "Continue."

Finnick pointed at the form. "I’ll help you rewrite this essay, and—" He tapped the grade section. "—fix this academic wreck you call a transcript."

Then, he looked her straight in the eye. "But there’s one rule."

Indiana waited, but Finnick didn't speak. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, as if ensuring only she would hear. Indiana leaned in too, drawn in by the sudden shift in the air.

They were close. Too close.

In that split second, Finnick froze. His nose caught a scent.

It was soft. Warm. Sweet. It wasn't overpowering, but it was strong enough to pierce through his focus like a needle to the brain.

Finnick’s heart hammered against his ribs—a hundred beats per second. His face began to flush, but he forced it down with sheer willpower. He held his breath, refusing to inhale that intoxicating scent again. His arms, crossed over his chest, tensed until they were rock hard.

Indiana didn't notice. "Well?" she urged. "What’s the rule?"

Finnick turned his head away for a fraction of a second, resetting his mind. When he looked back, his expression was as stone-cold as before. "You will follow my methods. All of them."

Indiana squinted. "All of them?"

"No debating. No complaining."

Indiana let out a dry laugh. "You've got to be joking."

Finnick didn't laugh. His gaze remained icy. Indiana’s smile slowly faded. "...You're serious?"

"If you don't like it," Finnick said, "find another tutor."

Silence stretched between them. Indiana bit her lip. She hated this. She hated that this 'NPC' held all the cards. But she didn't have the money for a professional tutor, and she couldn't lose her father’s name.

She let out a long, defeated breath. "Fine," she muttered. "I agree."

Finnick gave a single, curt nod. "Good."

Indiana grabbed the form back. "So, when do we start?"

"Tomorrow."

Indiana stood up, grabbing her bag. "Fine."

She turned to leave, assuming Finnick had already gone back to his books. She was halfway down the aisle when a low voice stopped her.

"Indiana."

She startled and spun around. Finnick was still sitting there, but his blue eyes looked darker now—deeper, like a storm rolling in.

"What now?" she asked.

Finnick paused for a beat. "Tomorrow..."

Indiana waited.

"Don't wear that perfume."

Indiana frowned, lifting her shoulders to sniff her jacket. She wasn't wearing perfume—she never did. She thought it was too 'girly.' "Why?" she asked skeptically, thinking he was insulting her.

Finnick didn't answer immediately. His gaze dropped for a second before returning to her face.

"It’s distracting."

Indiana stared at him, trying to tell if it was a joke, but his face was deathly serious. She let out a huff. "Whatever," she called back, turning on her heel. As she walked away, she kept sniffing her own sleeve.

"I’m not even wearing anything..." she grumbled to herself.

As soon as Indiana disappeared behind the shelves, Finnick slammed his book shut and let out a shaky breath. He pressed the bridge of his nose, trying to ground himself.

"God..." he whispered so softly it was barely a breath.

"...why does it have to be her?"

The next day arrived sooner than Indiana had hoped, she spent half the night nearly regretting the deal she’d made with Finnick.

Yet, here she was, feeling like a total fool.

The school library wasn't too crowded yet when Indiana pushed open the glass doors. Morning light streamed through the high windows, reflecting off the polished wood floors. And just as she expected, Finnick was already there.

He sat at the same table, now buried under an even larger stack of books than yesterday, with his laptop open. Pens were lined up in a row, as straight as a phalanx of soldiers.

Immaculate... Indiana noted silently, watching Finnick, who looked more like a robot than a human in her eyes.

Indiana stopped a few paces away, but he didn't look up. He was writing something rapidly, his brow furrowed in deep concentration.

What a prick, she thought.

She walked over and dropped her bag onto the chair across from him with a heavy thump.

Finnick stopped writing and slowly lifted his gaze. His bright blue eyes locked onto Indiana for a split second before returning to his screen.

"You’re three minutes late," he protested.

Indiana rolled her eyes. "Good morning to you too," she shot back sarcastically.

"I wasn't hired to be friendly," Finnick countered, making Indiana scoff again.

Indiana leaned back in her chair, every fiber of her being wanting to get up and walk away, but Mary’s ultimatum kept her anchored in her seat.

"You know, normal people usually start a conversation with 'hello.'"

Finnick kept typing. "Normal people also don't apply to Oxyord with math scores that pathetic," he retorted.

Indiana glared at him. "Okay. So we're moving on to personal attacks now?" She was ready for war; she didn't care about Mary’s ultimatum anymore. She was sure she could find another way without this arrogant, stiff-necked guy.

Finnick finally closed his laptop and slid a thick book toward her.

"Basic Mathematics."

Indiana looked at the book as if it were a mortal enemy. "You’ve got to be kidding me."

"You need a foundation before you can build anything. Strengthen the basics, then we move forward," Finnick commanded, tapping the book with his index finger.

Reluctantly, Indiana flipped open the first page with a clear air of skepticism. Finnick, meanwhile, was fighting a hard battle not to laugh at the stubborn girl in front of him.

A few seconds passed. Indiana was already groaning. "I hate this," she complained.

"That much is clear," Finnick replied flatly.

Indiana slammed the book shut. "Can't we start with something more... advanced? Come on, I’m not that bad. You're seriously underselling me here. I don't trust your judgment."

Finnick crossed his arms. "Your skills are exactly as basic as this book."

Indiana was about to snap back when—

"Indy!"

The voice shattered the tension like a stone through glass. Indiana turned instantly. Jax strolled into the library with a casual swagger, his bag slung over one shoulder. A wide grin spread across his face the moment he saw her.

"So this is where you’ve been."

Indiana let out a small sigh. "Jax, I’m busy—"

Jax was already standing behind her chair. His hand landed casually on her shoulder. "Studying?" he mocked, glancing at the book on the table. He let out a dry laugh. "Since when?"

Indiana nudged his stomach lightly. "Shut up."

Jax then glanced at Finnick for the first time since entering the library, and his expression shifted. "Ah." His voice went flat. "The nerd."

Finnick didn't react. He simply reopened his laptop. Indiana watched him closely, relieved to see no change in his expression or a sharp retort. She couldn't imagine the chaos if Finnick’s silver tongue started wagging now.

However, his silence acted as if Jax didn't even exist in the room. And that clearly grated on Jax.

He pulled an empty chair next to Indiana and sat down close, completely ignoring Finnick's presence as he wrapped an arm around Indiana's shoulder.

"So, you guys are studying together now?"

Indiana tried to push his arm off. "He’s my tutor."

"Seriously?" Jax laughed again. "Indy, you must be really desperate."

Indiana opened her mouth to argue, but something made her stop. Finnick was still silent, but his fingers, which had been flying across the keys, had stopped.

Indiana didn't know why she was watching him. Maybe because... the silence felt different now.

She stole a glance at Finnick. He was still staring at his screen, but she could see his jaw tightening. Just a fraction. If Indiana hadn't been paying close attention, she wouldn't have noticed it.

"Hey, Indy." Jax suddenly grabbed Indiana’s chin, forcing her face toward him. "Look at me when I’m talking to you."

Indiana swiped his hand away. "Don't be dramatic."

Jax laughed. "Just kidding," he lied.

But this time, he moved even closer. His hand slid down from her shoulder to her waist. Indiana stiffened instantly.

"Jax."

"What?"

"Don't."

Jax just smirked. Indiana glanced at Finnick again, who remained silent, seemingly indifferent to them.

See? Indiana thought. An NPC is still an NPC. But for some reason, she felt a wave of crushing disappointment—a feeling that surprised even her.

Jax leaned in close to Indiana. "So you really want to get into Oxyord?"

Indiana sighed. "Yeah."

"Why bother?" Jax commented, tapping the math book with his finger. "You're not the type to study," he added.

Indiana pulled the book away from his fingers. "I have my reasons."

Jax stared at her for a few seconds, then gave a thin smile. "Because of your dad?"

Indiana went rigid. "You know nothing. Don't bring him into this."

"Why not?" Jax’s tone turned sharper, more mocking. "Aren't you the one always saying you want to prove something to him?"

Indiana felt a tightening in her chest. She hated this conversation. And Jax knew it. Worse, he was doing this in front of Finnick—the last person she wanted knowing her reasons for studying.

Jax always knew which buttons to press to regain control, and Indiana cursed her big mouth for ever being stupid enough to tell Jax anything.

Jax grabbed Indiana's wrist. It wasn't overly hard, but it was enough to make her wince in discomfort.

"Let go."

"Calm down," Jax commanded, his voice sharp and demanding.

His grip tightened slightly. Indiana tried to pull her hand away. "Jax."

Across the table, Finnick closed his laptop. The sound was quiet, but enough to make Indiana look.

And that’s when she saw it.

Finnick’s eyes.

They weren't the flat, bright blue they usually were. Something in them was darker now, deeper. Indiana’s heart skipped a beat.

Finnick stood up slowly, his movements eerily calm. So calm that Jax hadn't even noticed yet. Jax was still holding Indiana’s hand, now leaning in to try and kiss her neck.

"You're so teasing—" Jax rasped, his voice thick.

Indiana tensed, revulsion washing over her.

Then, she saw something strange. Finnick's hand at his side—his fingernails looked slightly longer than before. An illusion, maybe? Indiana thought, unsure.

But Finnick’s entire posture had shifted. His shoulders were taut, his body leaning slightly forward. Like an animal holding itself back with every ounce of its strength.

Jax finally glanced at Finnick. "Oh?" He let out a dry laugh. "You're still here, I see."

Finnick didn't answer. His gaze dropped to Jax’s hand, which was still gripping Indiana’s wrist. Indiana suddenly felt the air in the room grow heavy and suffocating. Other students in the library began to steal glances their way.

Jax smirked. "What?" he scoffed at Finnick, intentionally pulling Indiana closer. "Jealous?"

Indiana let out a frustrated breath. "Jax, seriously—"

Jax’s grip suddenly turned rough, making Indiana wince. "Ah—that hurts."

Then, it happened fast.

Finnick took one step forward, causing his chair to screech against the floor. The sound echoed through the room, which had gone suddenly silent.

Indiana stared at him. There was something in Finnick’s face she had never seen before. A raw, dangerous instinct. His blue eyes were now completely dark.

Jax didn't catch it. He just mocked him further. "What are you gonna do, nerd boy?"

Finnick didn't answer, but his gaze never left Jax’s hand. When he spoke, his voice was low, bone-chilling, and felt like a heavy command.

"Let. Her. Go."

The three words fell like stones into still water, sending out massive ripples. The entire room seemed to freeze. Everyone knew those words were a battle cry; a confrontation was now unavoidable.

Somewhere in the back, someone dropped a book, but no one dared to react.

Indiana felt a strange shiver run down her spine. It wasn't because of Finnick's words—which she thought were suicidal—but because of the aura he was exuding.

For the first time, she felt it. A scream echoed in her mind: This man is not just a nerd!