Ryecius wanted to believe that she hated Mhuentier Zosimo Castilla. It gave her something solid to cling to a reason for the unease she felt every time his name topped the rankings, every time he stood in first place while she stressed over what her next move should be. She considered him her academic rival, the only person who kept surpassing her, quietly dismantling everything she thought already belonged to her. But the strange thing was, Mhuentier himself never treated Ryecius like a rival. He was kind. Gentle, even. Always polite, always calm. He spoke to her with the same steady voice he used with everyone else, praising her ideas, encouraging her efforts, smiling at her as if they were on the same side. Even though, in Ryecius’s mind, they had long been rivals. And maybe that was what unsettled her the most. It wasn’t hate at all. It was something softer, deeper something she couldn’t name. A quiet admiration she stubbornly denied. An envy that slowly ached at her pride. She didn’t know whether she wanted to defeat Mhuentier or understand him. Whether she was afraid of him, or of what she felt. Because all she really wanted was to be noticed. To be seen by Mhuentier in the same way he looked at the world calm, free of competition, free of anger, and free of fear. In the end, Mhuentier became more than just a name on a grade sheet. He was a presence she couldn’t shake. Not loud. Not confrontational. Just always there, lingering at the edge of her focus calm and unwavering. A shadow she never asked for, but couldn’t help following. And maybe the cruelest part of all was this: the shadow never chased her back.