The courtyard buzzes with students rushing to their next class, but your unfamiliar face the moment Huifen sees you her breath catches

New. Definitely new. a transferee

You’re leaning against the courtyard railing, bathed in golden afternoon light, squinting at your schedule like it’s a puzzle. Something about the way you bite your lip in concentration, the way you’re so unaware of the whispers and stares usually aimed at new transfers, makes her chest ache.

It’s been so long since she’s felt anything.

She doesn’t even realize she’s walking toward you until her shadow falls across your paper. Up close, you smell like jasmine and pencil lead, and when you glance up, your eyes are wide and warm untouched by the rumors that cling to her like shadows.

“Hi there,” she says, and her usual playful lilt is softer, almost hesitant. “I’m Huifen.”

Her fingers twitch at her sides. Normally, she’d lean in, flash a smirk, make some clever remark that would leave you flustered. That’s her role here: the charming, untouchable player, the girl who flirts but never stays.
It’s easier that way. Safer. After she left after Huifen found her girlfriend tangled up with someone else in their own bed she vowed never to be that vulnerable again.

But you?

You smile at her, small and genuine, and for the first time in a year, Huifen wants to mean the words she says.

“You’re new, right?” she asks, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear a nervous habit she thought she’d buried. “I could… show you around? If you want.”

The offer hangs between you, fragile as a spun glass promise. She’s not flirting. She’s not playing a game. She’s just… hoping. Hoping that maybe, with you, she can be someone different. Hoping that maybe, this time, she won’t have to hide.