The first thing XH learned about Campus 2 was that time didn't belong to anyone.
Not students.Not teachers.Not even the building itself.
Time belonged to the schedule.
It was printed everywhere. On notice boards. On laminated sheets taped crookedly to walls. On group chats that buzzed nonstop. Time blocks stacked neatly on top of each other like they made sense.
08:30–10:00, Anatomy Basics (Room- 201)
10:15–11:45, Physiology foundsation (Room -302)
13:00–14:30, Lab Session (Room- 404)
15:00–16:45 Microbiology (Room- 401)
XH stood near the main lobby that morning, staring at a large campus map mounted to the wall. The building rose above him, tall and rectangular, its glass reflecting the pale sky.
CAMPUS 2 – ACADEMIC BLOCK
Floor 2: Lecture Rooms 201–210
Floor 3: Lecture Rooms 301–315
Floor 4: Labs and Seminar Rooms 401–410
It looked simple.
It wasn't.
Students poured in from every direction, some walking with confidence, others hesitating, phones in hand, schedules pulled up again and again as if the words might rearrange themselves.
XH adjusted the strap of his bag and checked his phone for the third time.
Room 203.Then 304.Then 401.
Three different floors. Three different crowds.
"Why does it feel like a maze?" TR muttered beside him, spinning slowly like he expected the building to move.
PL squinted up at the floor numbers. "Because it is."
JP stood a few steps away, already calm, schedule memorized. "You start low, you end high. It's symbolic."
"Symbolic of what?" TR asked.
JP shrugged. "Suffering."
They joined the flow toward the stairwell because the elevators were already clogged with bodies and impatience. Every step upward brought new faces.
Too many to remember.
Names floated by like static.
"Did you catch his name?""No.""Was she in our section?""I think so?"
Classroom 203 was already half full when they arrived. Rows of seats stretched toward the back. Conversations overlapped. Someone laughed loudly. Someone else complained about the air conditioning.
XH slid into a seat near the middle.
He took a slow breath.
This was real now.
More students filed in. Different styles. Different accents. Some already looked like they knew each other. Some looked as lost as he felt.
The door closed.
A man stepped in briefly. Middle-aged. Calm posture. Sharp eyes.
He didn't introduce himself properly. He didn't need to.
"Good morning," he said. "I'm THKM."
The room quieted instantly.
He glanced around once, like he was measuring something invisible.
"This is not high school," he continued evenly. "You will be responsible for knowing where you need to be, when you need to be there, and why."
XH felt something settle in his chest.
A presence.Not warmth.Not cruelty.
Authority.
THKM spoke for only ten minutes. Outlined expectations. Referenced upcoming labs. Mentioned assessments without details. Then he left as abruptly as he arrived.
The room exhaled.
"Why did that feel like a warning?" PL whispered.
"Because it was," JP replied.
Between classes, the stairwells filled again. Students rushed upward, downward, sideways. The building echoed with footsteps and voices.
On the third floor, XH caught sight of a woman standing near a doorway, clipboard in hand. Younger than he expected. Hair tied neatly. Expression gentle but alert.
She smiled at a student passing by, correcting their room number softly.
"Wrong side," she said kindly. "You want 304, not 314."
Her voice carried just enough to reach XH.
Something about her felt… grounding.
"Who's that?" TR asked quietly.
"I don't know," HS replied. "But she looks dangerous in a nice way."
Later, someone would tell them her name was Lola.
For now, she was just another face that stayed in XH's mind longer than expected.
Room 304 was louder. Bigger. More chaotic.
Students packed in tightly, chairs scraping, bags shoved under desks. Names were exchanged rapidly and forgotten just as fast.
Someone started a group chat on the spot.
Someone else complained about the Wi-Fi.
XH scribbled notes, not really listening, absorbing more atmosphere than content.
By the time they reached the fourth floor for Room 401, exhaustion had already set in.
Labs smelled different.
Cleaner. Sharper. Something metallic underneath.
As they waited outside the room, conversations drifted.
"That lab on the west wing?""They say the lights turn off by themselves.""My cousin studied here. He said don't stay late."
TR perked up immediately. "Late how?"
A girl they didn't know leaned in conspiratorially. "After six. Especially on the fourth floor."
PL frowned. "Why?"
She lowered her voice. "Because that's when the noises start."
XH blinked. "What noises?"
"Footsteps," someone else added. "When no one's there."
"Doors opening," another whispered. "Then closing."
"Stop," HS said, half-laughing. "That's just cheap horror."
"That's what everyone says," the girl replied. "Until they hear it."
Laughter followed. Nervous. Excited.
Cheap Asian campus horror.
The kind everyone pretends not to believe but secretly files away.
By the time classes ended, the sun was already lowering. The building looked different from outside now, shadows stretching longer across the ground.
Students spilled out, tired, overstimulated, relieved.
XH walked toward the station with the others, the day replaying in fragments.
Schedules.Floors.Names.Faces.
The train platform was crowded. Commuters mixed with students. Bags rested against legs. Phones glowed.
That's when he saw her.
She stood a little apart from the crowd, headphones on, gaze unfocused like she was somewhere else entirely. Dark hair falling naturally over her shoulders. Expression unreadable.
XH didn't know her.
He had never seen her before.
And yet something about the way she stood, the way she seemed both present and distant, pulled his attention without explanation.
She glanced up briefly.
Their eyes met.
Just for a second.
Then the train arrived with a rush of sound and movement, swallowing the moment whole.
XH boarded without thinking, heart beating slightly faster than it should have.
He told himself it was nothing.
Just another face.
Another student.
Another stranger on the way to somewhere else.
He didn't know her name.
He didn't know she would matter.
He didn't know that one day, she would stand at the center of everything he was afraid to choose.
As the train pulled away, Campus 2 faded into the distance, its floors stacked neatly behind glass.
201 to 401.
Schedules set.
Stories already forming.
And somewhere inside that building, between rumors and reality, the first quiet threads of something irreversible had begun to weave themselves together.