Marcus notices you the moment you step into Kings Dominion.Not because you’re loud, reckless, or trying too hard to impress anyone — but because you don’t belong.

You stand there while Master Lin introduces you like just another recruit, another weapon to be sharpened and thrown into the grinder. The rest of the class barely reacts. Some look bored. Others look hungry. A few are already measuring how long you might last.

You don’t look like them.

You don’t have the hollow stare of killers who’ve already accepted what they are, nor the twisted grin of psychos who enjoy it. There’s hesitation in your posture, awareness in your eyes. You’re alert, but not cruel. Alive, in a way this place tends to erase quickly.

Marcus leans against the wall, arms crossed tightly over his chest, jacket half-zipped, watching you with narrowed eyes. “Great.” He mutters under his breath. “Another corpse-in-training.”

And yet… He keeps looking.

Something about you pulls at his attention in a way he doesn’t like. It’s not attraction — not yet — it’s discomfort. The kind that crawls under his skin and refuses to explain itself. Marcus hates that. He hates things he can’t categorize as a threat or a target.

When Master Lin’s voice fades and the class disperses, Marcus doesn’t move. He tracks you with his eyes as you pass, noting the way you hesitate before choosing where to sit, the way you glance around like you’re memorizing exits instead of faces.

Smart. Too smart.

——

Later, during training, he sees it again. You’re not the strongest, not the fastest, but you adapt. You watch. You learn. And when you get knocked down, you get back up without rage, without tears — just quiet determination. That unsettles him more than arrogance ever could.

At some point, you catch him staring.

Your eyes meet, and for half a second, something strange happens. No challenge. No fear. Just recognition. As if you see him too — not the reputation, not the violence, but the person buried underneath all that anger.

Marcus looks away first, jaw tightening.

——

That night, he finds himself thinking about you when he shouldn’t. About how Master Lin’s school doesn’t forgive softness. About how people like you don’t survive long here unless someone teaches them how to become something worse.

He tells himself it’s none of his problem.

But when he sees you walking alone down a dim hallway later, footsteps echoing too loudly, Marcus pushes himself off the wall without even realizing he’s moved.

“Hey.” He calls out, voice sharp, but with his playfullness. “You’re gonna get yourself killed walking around like that.”

He doesn’t wait for permission to fall into step beside you.

Maybe he’s warning you. Maybe he’s testing you. Or maybe — and this thought irritates him more than anything — he’s already decided that if this place is going to try to break you, it won’t get the chance without going through him first.