OPERATION:FIRST LOVE

[KADE POV] The Cardoso International Academy gates were gold. Real gold. Or gold-plated. Kade didn’t care. Either way, they were meant to make you feel small before you even stepped inside. Of course they were. Kade Adebayo stood across the street at 6:47 AM, tucked into the shadow of a suya stand that hadn’t opened yet. The Lagos morning was already hot. Sweat traced the collar of his black and white uniform. He hated the uniform. It was a costume. And costumes got people killed. Across the road, cars rolled in. Bentley. Range Rover. G-Wagon with tinted windows. Drivers in black suits stepping out to open doors for children who had never waited in line for anything in their lives. Lagos elite. Lagos prey. And somewhere inside those gates was his target. His earpiece clicked. Static. Then a voice. "Status report, Agent 07." Commander Bello. The man hadn’t raised his voice once in 9 years. He didn’t need to. Kade still remembered being 8 years old, kneeling on broken glass because he missed a target by 2 centimeters. The Commander’s voice was the same then as it was now. Cold. Flat. Final. "On position," Kade said. His voice didn’t shake. It never did. They’d trained that out of him. "Remember the mission parameters," Bello continued. "Infiltrate Cardoso International Academy. Pose as SS2 transfer student. Get close to Zara Cardoso. Extract intel on Chief Adebayo Cardoso and his offshore accounts. No attachments. No deviations. No mistakes." A pause. "If the girl becomes a liability to national security... eliminate." Click. The line went dead. Kade exhaled through his nose. Thirty days. That was the timeline. Thirty days to get in, get what they needed, and get out. Nine years of training for this. No birthdays. No friends. No school plays or first crushes or staying up late to watch football. Just training rooms with no windows. Guns that felt more familiar than his own name. Lies that tasted like metal. And now this. A school. He adjusted his tie. Black and white. Too tight. It felt like a noose. He hated how normal it made him look. Like he belonged. He didn’t belong anywhere. At 6:55 AM, he crossed the road. The gold gates slid open with a hydraulic hiss. Two security men scanned him. One of them had a gun under his blazer. Kade clocked it in 0.3 seconds. Amateur. "Name?" "Kade Adebayo. Transfer from Abuja." New files. New identity. SSS was good at that. The guard nodded him through. Cardoso International Academy. Manicured lawns. Fountains. A building that looked more like a hotel than a school. Students everywhere. Girls in perfectly pressed skirts. Boys with watches that cost more than Kade’s entire childhood. They all laughed too loud. Moved too freely. They had no idea what it was like to have someone else own your life. First period. SS2A. Room 12. Kade stood outside the door for 3 seconds. Counting. Breathing. Then he pushed it open. 32 heads turned. The classroom smelled like perfume, expensive cologne, and meat pie. Sunlight poured through floor-to-ceiling windows. Everyone was staring. Whispering. And then she smiled. Zara Cardoso. Yellow ribbon tied in her hair. Dimples that could get a man killed. Holding a textbook in one hand and a half-eaten meat pie in the other. She was wearing the same uniform as everyone else but somehow she looked different. Brighter. She looked like sunlight. Like everything he’d been trained to destroy. "New boy!" She said, loud. Too loud for a classroom. Like she wasn’t afraid of him. Like she wasn’t afraid of anything. "Our teacher said we’re getting a transfer. You must be Kade." She walked right up to him. Bare feet in loafers. No fear. Stuck out her hand. Kade stared at it. At 8, they taught him how to break a hand in 3 seconds. Wrist, elbow, shoulder. At 10, they taught him how to make it look like an accident. At 17, a girl was offering hers to shake. Her nails were painted yellow. To match the ribbon. He took it. Her skin was warm. Softer than he expected. "Hi," she said. Her grip was firm. "I’m Zara. Welcome to Cardoso. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you survive." She winked. The teacher, Mrs. Okafor, cleared her throat. "Miss Cardoso. Seat. Mr. Adebayo, introduce yourself." Kade let go of Zara’s hand. It felt wrong to let go. He turned to the class. 31 pairs of eyes. Assessing. Judging. "I’m Kade Adebayo," he said. Voice level. "From Abuja." That was it. That was all they were getting. He took the only empty seat. Back row. Corner. Clear view of the door and windows. Old habits. Zara sat two rows in front of him. She turned around immediately. "So," she whispered, grinning. "What’s your story? Why’d you leave Abuja?" Kade didn’t answer. "Okay, mysterious," she said, not offended at all. "I like a challenge." For the next 40 minutes, Kade didn’t hear a word Mrs. Okafor said about Economics. Instead he was counting. Exits: 2. Cameras: 4. People who looked at him too long: 7. People who looked at Zara like she was the sun: everyone. She kept turning around. To show him a meme on her phone. To ask if he wanted half her meat pie. To ask if he was okay because "you look like you haven’t slept in days." He hadn’t. When the bell rang, everyone flooded out. Zara waited for him. "Come on," she said. "I’ll show you around. You look lost." "I’m not lost," Kade said. "Your face says otherwise." She linked her arm through his before he could stop her. Physical contact. Unplanned. His first instinct was to dislocate her shoulder. His second instinct was... nothing. She just felt warm. They walked through the halls. People greeted Zara. Hugged her. Called her name. She was loved here. She was safe here. And he was here to destroy all of it. "So," Zara said as they passed the fountain. "Project time." "Project?" "Project: Make The New Boy Human." She said it like it was an official thing. "Rule number 1: You have to talk to people. Rule number 2: You have to smile at least once today. Rule number 3: No more brooding by the gates." Kade stopped walking. "Why are you doing this?" Zara tilted her head. The yellow ribbon caught the sun. "Because you look like someone forgot to tell you that you’re allowed to be a person." The words hit him like a bullet. For 9 years, no one had said that to him. His earpiece itched. Even though it wasn’t in. Get close to Zara Cardoso. Extract intel. No attachments. But her hand was still on his arm. And she was looking at him like he wasn’t a weapon. Like he wasn’t a mistake waiting to happen. And Kade felt something dangerous. Something he hadn’t felt in 9 years. Guilt. Because in 30 days, according to the Commander, he was supposed to ruin her life. And for the first time, Kade wasn’t sure he could pull the trigger.