The city never slept, but it did dream.

  Above the obsidian sea of skyscrapers, the night sky flickered with artificial consteltions—corporate logos that burned brighter than stars ever could. Rain fell in sheets, each droplet capturing fragments of neon until the streets below became rivers of liquid light. And at the heart

  of it all stood Neon Arcadia Academy, its spire pulsing with the steady rhythm of a mechanical heart, drawing the ambitious and the desperate alike.

  Kae Virex watched the incoming first-years from her perch against the mag-tram rail. Her augmented eyes—liquid gold with flecks of amber circuitry—methodically cataloged weaknesses, potential, threats. The reactive threads of her cropped jacket shifted like mercury, occasionally revealing glimpses of the cybernetic enhancements beneath her bronze skin. She wasn't looking for friends. She was calcuting assets.

  Until she saw her.

  The girl was different—a soft anomaly in a hard-edged world. She clutched her datapad like it contained secrets worth killing for, violet eyes downcast beneath a too-rge hood. Everything about her screamed vulnerability, and in Neon Arcadia, vulnerability was currency.

  "Fresh," Kae whispered to herself, the word both assessment and promise.

  Their assigned living quarters—Dorm 38B—hung suspended halfway up Tower Theta like a silver teardrop. Inside, minimalist luxury: two beds separated by a gulf of polished floor, a shower pod of smart gss, and floor-to-ceiling windows that transformed the cityscape into living art.

  The girl—Rin Sori, according to the academy registry—stood frozen in the doorway.

  "We're sharing?" Her voice barely registered above the ambient hum of the building's life support systems.

  Kae tossed her duffel onto the right-side bed, ciming territory. "Co-ed assignments aren't standard procedure." A deliberate stretch, the subtle click of subdermal tech realigning. "But then, I'm not standard either."

  Rin's expression flickered between apprehension and something else—something Kae recognized all too well. Fascination. The beginning of desire.

  Kae smiled. The hunt was always her favorite part.

  The Academy operated like a well-oiled machine, processing raw potential into weaponized excellence. Combat training. Neural hacking. Tactical simutions. Kae excelled effortlessly, her body moving through the rigid structure of each day with predatory grace.

  She made certain Rin noticed—the way she moved, the confident tilt of her smile, the calcuted brushes of contact when they passed in the narrow spaces of their shared quarters. It was a game Kae had pyed before. The rules were simple: circle, approach, retreat. Create tension. Build hunger.

  Rin responded predictably, with blushes and stuttered words, her small frame seeming to colpse inward whenever Kae entered her orbit. But there was something unusual in those violet eyes—an intelligence that caught sparks when Kae wasn't looking directly at it, a depth that suggested hidden complexities.

  For three nights, they existed in cautious orbits around each other. Kae, all calcuted movement and deliberate provocation. Rin, quiet and watchful, retreating into the glow of her datapad, coding with an intensity that suggested escape.

  Then came Monday.

  Kae returned from night drills, muscles humming with exertion, skin sheened with sweat. She discarded her training gear piece by piece, creating a trail of abandoned armor across the floor. The shower beckoned—a gss sanctuary promising heat and release.

  She stepped inside, leaving the door slightly ajar. Steam billowed, painting the gss translucent. Water cascaded over the curves of her body, sluicing away the day's efforts. She closed her eyes, surrendering to sensation.

  And did not see Rin watching.

  Did not see the violet eyes widen, the parted lips, the flush climbing from throat to cheeks. Did not witness the moment of discovery—when Rin saw all of her, the fullness of what she was, the secret she carried between her thighs.

  Did not notice the want that bloomed, sudden and violent, in the quiet girl's gaze.

  Afterward, something shifted.

  Kae continued her siege of small provocations—stretching nguorously when Rin entered the room, wearing less than necessary after showers, letting her gaze linger. "You blush so easily," she would tease, misreading the cause.

  But Rin had changed. Her shyness took on new dimensions. When their hands brushed during tactical bs, she no longer pulled away—instead, she lingered, eyes carefully averted but breath catching audibly. When Kae sprawled across her bed in the evenings, Rin's gaze would track her movements with newfound intensity before darting back to her studies.

  Nights became territories of silent warfare. Kae, unaware of what Rin had seen, slept easily. Rin y awake, repying memories, desire coiling tight in her abdomen.

  Rain painted the windows one evening, transforming the city beyond into a kaleidoscope of bleeding color. Kae lounged on her bed, one arm tucked behind her head, watching Rin pretend to study.

  "You know," she said, voice honeyed with suggestion, "I could teach you more than just code sequences."

  Rin's fingers stilled over her datapad. "I—what?"

  "You keep staring." Kae's smile was knife-sharp. "You trying to learn something—or just enjoying what you see?"

  The flush that swept across Rin's pale features was answer enough. She started to deny it, but Kae was already moving—closing the distance between them with deliberate steps, leaning down until their faces nearly touched.

  "You were," she whispered, breath warm against Rin's cheek.

  Rin didn't retreat. Her eyes, those impossible violet pools, held steady. "Maybe I was."

  Something flickered in Kae's expression—surprise, quickly masked. She brushed a strand of dark hair from Rin's face, fingers lingering. "It's cute, how you think you can handle me."

  She returned to her bed, leaving Rin trembling in her wake.

  That night, neither slept.

  Kae feigned unconsciousness, one arm thrown carelessly across rumpled sheets, tank top riding high above her waist. Through narrowed eyes, she watched Rin watching her—saw the hunger there, the indecision, the silent battle between desire and fear.

  Rin knew what she had seen. Knew what Kae was. And still wanted.

  The realization sent heat spiraling through Kae's core.

  The next evening, Kae emerged from the shower wrapped in a towel that revealed more than it concealed. Droplets traced paths down the curve of her neck, collecting in the hollow of her colrbone before continuing their journey beneath the fabric.

  Rin tracked their progress, no longer pretending disinterest.

  "Like what you see?" Kae asked, the question routine but the tone sharper.

  "Maybe." Rin's voice had changed—steadier now, ced with something that might have been courage.

  Kae moved closer, trailing the scent of rain-fresh skin and synthetic musk. "You're bolder than before."

  Rin said nothing, but her pupils dited, bck eclipsing violet. The air between them thickened, charged with unspoken possibilities.

  Later, in the artificial night of their shared space, both y awake. Separate. Wanting. Neither brave enough to cross the divide.

  Days passed. Tension built like atmospheric pressure before a storm.

  Then came the night of the fuschia lightning, when the city's weather manipution grid malfunctioned, painting the sky in electric purple. The academy tower trembled with distant seismic activity—aftershocks from the coastal recmation project.

  Kae returned te, flushed from victory in the virtual dueling arena, her augmented eyes still glowing with residual connection. She found Rin bent over her desk, shoulders curved in concentration, oversized hoodie slipping to reveal the pale curve of her neck.

  She approached silently, stopping close enough that her presence would register as heat. "Still working, Sori?"

  Rin's fingers stilled mid-keystroke. "I can't focus when you're this close."

  "You finally going to admit you like it?" Kae's voice dropped to a register meant for secrets.

  Rin turned, bringing their faces inches apart. "I think I like you."

  Kae leaned closer still, her breath caressing Rin's ear. "You have no idea what you're saying."

  "I know more than you think," Rin whispered, and something in her tone—a certainty, a knowledge—made Kae pause.

  Their eyes locked. Understanding dawned slowly, then all at once.

  "Then maybe," Kae said, her smile turning predatory, "you're ready."

  She reached down, confident, expectant.

  But Rin caught her wrist. Not in rejection—in control. "Not yet." Her voice trembled but held firm. "Soon."

  Kae tilted her head, reassessing the quiet girl who suddenly seemed anything but fragile. "Pying games now?"

  Rin smiled—the first genuine smile Kae had seen from her—and the sight of it sent an unexpected thrill down Kae's spine.

  "Maybe," Rin said.

  And in that moment, the bance shifted. The hunter recognized that perhaps, all along, she had been hunted as well.

  Their game continued—Kae teasing, Rin watching. Kae pushing, Rin burning. Neither saying what they both now knew. But both wanting more, circling closer to inevitable collision.

  In the neon-soaked shadows of Dorm 38B, two secrets danced—one hidden, one discovered. And the space between them narrowed with each passing night.