The Military Academy — Chapter 4 part 2

The Next Morning

The gray sun of Ceres was beginning to rise, but the light still looked dirty, filtered through the low clouds. The courtyard was already boiling with the sound of footsteps, shouts, and the anthem being rehearsed on the other side.

Theo walked calmly toward the field, his coat half open, his posture too relaxed for someone who should have been ready for another training session.

Daime, as always, was already there, slouched in his wheelchair, a crooked cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth and an expression that mixed boredom and disdain. When he saw Theo approaching, he let out a harsh laugh.
— Relax a little more and Mother will have you recycled, dumbass — he muttered, not even looking directly at him. — Looks like you forgot everything I taught you.

Theo only let that crooked smile slip, the one that never answered anything — just a low laugh, like someone who accepts the truth without wanting to fight it.

Tycho showed up behind him, still sleepy, rubbing his eyes and grumbling:
— I’m hungry…

Theo shoved a hand into his coat pocket and pulled out a piece of cake wrapped in brown paper. He tossed it to his brother without even looking, as if he already knew Tycho would ask. The boy caught it midair and smiled, chewing without ceremony.

Dru, leaning against a wall on the far side of the courtyard, watched them from a distance. Her green eyes narrowed, and a faint laugh escaped, almost imperceptible. The scene was so typically Theo that she couldn’t help it: that good-hearted idiot, that fake leader who cared for others better than he cared for himself.

That was when the silence of the shrub behind the gym broke. A low, urgent rustling, like an angry breath of wind. Theo was the first to notice — his dark gaze turned instantly toward the sound.

Out of the leaves stepped a girl.

It was impossible not to notice: her long hair hung heavy over thin shoulders, her pale face bore fine, barely healed cuts, and her eyes… her eyes were too big, too deep, blue, arrogant like his own. Eyes that seemed to hold heaven and hell in one place, judging everything they saw. Eyes that hunted wicked souls.

She took another step and staggered. She was weak, as if she had crawled her way there. Her mouth opened slowly and, in a fading voice, she said:
— …Theo…

He was already moving before the whole name escaped her lips. He ran to her, arms outstretched to catch her before she fell. She leaned on him, her frozen fingers clutching the collar of his coat like claws, as if he were the only solid thing left in the world.

Theo lifted her into his arms without asking questions, his face hard, his black eyes fixed on the horizon. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply against his chest.

Daime gave a low whistle, impressed. Tycho stopped chewing, confused, staring.

From a distance, Dru stopped laughing. And for a second — just a second — those green eyes of hers weren’t sure if they should laugh or burn.

And Theo walked with the girl in his arms, slowly, as if carrying a burden he didn’t want to put down.

The Apparition

Daime choked on his own smoke when he saw the figure emerge from the shrub.
— Holy shit… — he muttered, eyes wide, staring at the girl — …looks like a ghost.

Tycho shrank behind his brother, staring without understanding. Theo, however, didn’t hesitate for a second. He already had her in his arms before anyone said a word.

Her blue eyes locked on him, huge and unreadable — arrogant like his, yet fragile in that moment, like a child’s. Even weak, even thin and dressed in dust-stained clothes, she smiled at him. A faint, almost grateful smile, as if she had been waiting for just that moment. As if she trusted him without knowing why.

Daime leaned back in his chair, still in disbelief:
— You’re crazy, Theo… that’s not a person… that’s a specter…

Theo didn’t reply. He held her tight, feeling how little she weighed, and strode across the courtyard. The silence behind him was heavy. Even Dru had stopped laughing, her expression hardening as she watched.

At the infirmary, the nurse was already waiting, hands gloved. It took her only a moment to assess the situation before she pointed to the cot.
— Dehydrated. Starved. Almost hypothermic… — she said, already setting up the IV and calling for two more assistants.

Theo stood in a corner, arms crossed, his eyes fixed on her. He watched every breath, every faint moan as the IV began to flow. Her blue eyes still opened now and then, searching for him. And he was there. Always there.

Until the heavy sound of the courtyard gates opening filled the air.

And they arrived.

Men clad in dark gray, military uniforms reflecting the austerity of Mother Ceres herself. Each face hidden behind an opaque black veil, identical to hers, faceless, merciless. Silencers.

Theo glared at them as they entered. None of them needed words to impose their will. Relentless, they lifted the girl from the cot without ceremony, and even in her weakened state, she kept those blue eyes fixed on him until the last second.

Theo did not look away.

And then, they took her.

The rhythmic steps echoed through the corridor until they vanished into the armored train waiting at the platform, ready to carry her to the Ceres of Ceres — where no common child ever dared even dream of setting foot.

And for a long moment, the entire courtyard seemed frozen in time.

Until Daime grumbled, still trying to mask his fear:
— Told you, man… ghost.

Theo just stood there, silent.
But inside, he knew those blue eyes would haunt him for a long time.

The Ghost in the Courtyard

The sun had barely warmed the courtyard when the students lined up to sing the anthem of Ceres. The dark gray flag, with its crossed keys, swayed cold and imposing in the wind. Theo was there, as always, at the center of the row, his hands in the pockets of his gray jacket, eyes cast down.

But his mind… was still in the night before.
Still trapped in those enormous blue eyes.
Eyes that seemed to hunt his soul without effort.
Eyes that asked nothing, only took.
And he… let them.

Dru and Daime approached after the anthem ended. Dru clung to his arm, with that insolent air of someone who always seemed in control. Daime stayed on the other side, chewing a cigarette like it was gum.
— See, Dru? — Daime said, with that cheeky grin — Told you our dear Theo’s changed. Got shaken, huh?

Theo raised an eyebrow but stayed silent.

Daime wouldn’t let it go:
— Shaken in a good way, of course. A ghost like that, with a bath, a little lipstick, she’d already be good to take home. A tasty little ghost, even.

Dru smacked the back of his head, annoyed:
— Shut up, Daime! You only talk crap.

— Ah, come on — he grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. — You’re just jealous because the ghost looked at him in a way she never looked at you. It’s true, Dru. Don’t even try to hide it.
Dru let out a nervous laugh, and her fingers gripped Theo’s arm tighter.
Theo finally stopped staring at the flag and looked at the two of them. A faint smile — almost imperceptible — appeared at the corner of his lips.
— That’s not it, he said, in that same calm voice.
— Oh, of course not, Daime shot back, laughing. — You only spent the whole night thinking about her because… I don’t know… you wanted to pray for her.
— And you? Theo countered, glancing sideways. — Want me to pray for you too?
Daime burst out laughing, Dru huffed, and Theo simply turned his gaze back to the flag.
But deep down, he knew: that ghost… had really captured something inside him. And he had no idea how to get rid of it.

The Hidden Corner

In the weeks that followed, Theo was no longer the same.
He was too discreet to admit it, but it was there — in the moments when he drifted off during practice, in the misplaced passes, in the long silences at meals.
The ghost’s eyes.
They followed him, even when he closed his own.
And it left him… restless.

One afternoon, after training, Dru called him to a hidden corner of the courtyard, behind the greenhouses where students almost never went. It was quiet there, heavy with the smell of plants and far from prying eyes. It was her spot when she wanted to trade something in secret — or when she needed to just be Dru, not the ruthless hustler.

She was already waiting, sitting on a pile of empty crates, her gray cap crooked over her short blond hair.
Theo leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets, unsure how to begin.
Dru looked at him for a long moment.
— I know, she finally said softly. — I know what you feel.
Theo raised an eyebrow.
She stood up slowly and faced him.
— Your eyes aren’t yours anymore, Theo. They’re not mine either. Now they… belong to her. I can see it. She swallowed hard, her tone trembling even though she tried to keep her pose. — And… that’s okay. I knew this day would come.

Theo lowered his gaze, as if it were possible to hide the pain and confusion in his chest.
He opened his mouth, but no words came.

Dru took a deep breath, forcing a smile.
— You don’t have to say anything. You’ve always been transparent with me. You’ve always been yourself.

And then, without asking permission — because she never asked — Dru grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and kissed him.
It was a long, deep, aching kiss.
A kiss that said everything they both knew and everything they couldn’t change.
A kiss that felt like goodbye, but also like “see you soon.”

When she pulled back, her eyes already shone with tears she wouldn’t let fall there.
— If it all goes wrong… she said, her voice breaking, I’ll still be here. You know that.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, trying to hide the tremor.
— Even if… our hearts belong to other people… the company stays the same, Theo.

For the first time that afternoon, Theo looked her in the eyes — and in that gaze, Dru saw it: he felt it too.
He felt everything.
But he had no choice.

She took a step back, adjusted her cap, and turned before he could see the first tear.
She left quickly, carrying only the faint scent of improvised perfume and leaving behind a heavy emptiness in his chest.

Even if they were just friends, he would always be a part of her.
And for Dru… that already hurt more than it should.

The Chemistry Lab

The lab was already buzzing with voices when Theo walked in.
He was always the last to arrive. Never late, but never early either.
On purpose.

The noise fell silent for a moment as he walked through the door — as it always did — then rose again in a muffled chorus of whispers and snickers.

He already knew.
He smelled it before he saw the silver trail leaking from the doorframe.
Hydrogen peroxide.

When he pushed the door, the poorly balanced bottle slipped from the top and shattered, drenching him in the liquid.
Theo moved, but not to dodge. He only turned his face by instinct.
The water ran down his black hair, filling the air with a sharp, acidic scent.

For a moment, no one breathed.
And then came the laughter.

Dark, leaning against a workbench with his arms crossed, was laughing like an idiot.
The rest of his crew too, pounding the tables, pointing, tossing out little jabs like jackals smelling blood.

Theo just stood there in the middle of the room, his bangs dripping clear drops onto the gray collar of his jacket.
He didn’t say a word.
Didn’t defend himself.
Didn’t even bother to wipe it off.

He just walked to his seat as if nothing had happened, his footsteps echoing on the cold floor, ignoring the whole spectacle around him.
Dark tried to provoke a little more, but his laughter died quickly when he realized nothing could break Theo.

On the next bench, Dru watched everything in silence.