In The Past
LEON'S POV:
The worn armchair in Luca's living room was my preferred quadrant. Sunlight slanted through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing above the pages of the textbook balanced on my knees. Formulas for advanced calculus swam before my eyes, a comforting pattern of predictable logic in a chaotic world. Order. Structure. Everything was where it should be.
Until the door slammed open.
"Leon!" Luca burst in, a whirlwind of energy and that perpetually disheveled charm. His hair was a glorious mess, his tie was loose, and he looked like he'd just escaped a minor explosion, which, knowing Luca, was entirely possible.
He crossed the room in three long strides, snatched the calculus book from my hands, and tossed it onto a nearby table. It landed with a faint thud, the symbol of order temporarily banished.
"Alright, shut down the brain farm for a bit," he announced, grinning. "We've got work to do."
My immediate internal response was an assessment of the interruption. Unscheduled. Priority: High, given Luca's rarely ignorable energy signature. Potential objective: Unknown, but likely outside standard parameters.
"Work?" I asked, pushing myself out of the chair. "What kind of work?" My mind sifted through the usual suspects – tutoring his way out of trouble, helping him 'acquire' obscure items, acting as his designated driver for questionable errands.
Luca's grin widened, taking on a decidedly mischievous, almost predatory edge. He leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially, despite the fact we were alone. "Operation: Orbital Reconnaissance," he whispered, eyes gleaming. "Phase One: Covert Deployment."
I waited. Luca's naming conventions were... unique.
"We're setting up cameras," he elaborated, standing back up straight. "In the school girls' bathroom."
My analytical process stuttered. Girls' bathroom? The data didn't compute with any logical objective I could immediately access. It wasn't about money, influence, or even direct strategic advantage. It was... something else.
"Cameras?" I repeated, my voice flat, trying to parse the information. "Why? Luca, you're already... you know. Handsome. You don't even need to do that." The genuine confusion was evident even to me. He had no difficulty attracting attention. This seemed like an unnecessary, high-risk maneuver for a low-yield outcome, based on my limited understanding of his social goals.
Luca scoffed, running a hand through his already messy hair. "Handsome? Please. This isn't about needing anything, Leon. This is about... principal. As boys, it's our inherent right. A rite of passage, almost. An... assertion of presence. That's why we're going to do this." His justification was purely abstract, based on some self-created philosophy of male entitlement. It wasn't logical, but it was undeniably Luca.
"It's dangerous," I stated, shifting back to the practical obstacles. My mind was already running risk assessments. "School security is way too tight. Cameras everywhere. Sensors. Pressure plates in some areas, supposedly."
He waved a hand dismissively. "Details, details. We'll get through. Security's a challenge, not a wall."
"The girls' dormitory has even more cameras," I pointed out, recalling the schematics I'd mentally filed away after a previous Luca-inspired incident involving a rooftop and a very loud band at 3 AM. "Main entry, hallways, fire escapes... everywhere but inside the rooms and the bathroom itself."
Luca's grin returned, sharper this time. "Exactly. Everywhere but where we need to be. But don't worry about the dorm security. That's already handled. We've got a girl on the inside helping us."
A girl? This added a new, complicating layer. Betrayal vectors. Leverage points. "Who?" I asked, my strategic curiosity piqued.
"Our illustrious class monitor," Luca announced with a flourish. "Mai."
Mai. Organized. Rule-bound. Academically focused. The data points for Mai did not align with "accomplice in illegal surveillance." "How?" I asked, genuinely wanting to understand the algorithm he'd used to bridge that gap. "How did you make her agree?"
Luca's expression softened slightly, losing the predatory edge, replaced by a look that was disturbingly casual, almost empathetic, while describing something utterly cold. "Mai's family... they're having some trouble. Unexpected medical bills, things like that. Her house... there's a need for money. A significant need." He shrugged, a gesture that downplayed the gravity of his actions. "I just... facilitated a situation where that need became overwhelming. Presented myself as a solution, not the cause, of course. In need of money, people will do anything. Or almost anything."
The calculation in his voice, the casual admission of orchestrating someone's financial distress for his own gain... it was chilling. My initial moral unease solidified into a cold, hard assessment of Luca's capabilities. He didn't just break rules; he manipulated realities.
"You're a devil," I stated, the word not an insult, but a simple classification of the amorality I'd just witnessed.
Luca just smiled. It wasn't a malicious smile, but one of simple acknowledgment, like I'd correctly identified a rare species. "Only when necessary."
My strategic mind immediately jumped to consequence management. "What if she betrayed us?" I asked. "Told the girls? Or security?"
Luca leaned back, confident. "Already handled. I did all this without her knowing it was me pulling the strings of her sudden financial crisis, of course. Just an anonymous benefactor offering a large sum for a 'simple task' that requires discretion. Gave her 30% upfront. Incentive. Disappearing now means she loses the rest, and risks me exposing the part she did agree to. Leverage, Leon. Always establish leverage."
He laid out the plan then, detailing entry points, timing, diversion tactics, the required equipment. My role: primary security bypass via laptop. His role: external lookout, physical obstacle negation, smoke deployment. Mai's role:... well, her role seemed to be providing the key internal access and being unaware she was dealing with Luca. We planned it meticulously, running through scenarios, identifying potential failure points. It was complex, high-stakes, and, from a purely technical standpoint, fascinating. The ethical implications remained, a persistent, low-frequency hum beneath the thrill of the challenge, but executing the plan required compartmentalization.
That evening, we waited near the girls' dorm, blended into the shadows of the landscaping. Equipment bags were at our feet – my laptop and various hacking tools, Luca's kit containing miniature cameras, adhesive strips, wires, and, yes, smoke bombs. The air was cool, quiet, filled with the scent of night-blooming jasmine. Tension was a palpable thing, tightening my chest.
The objective time arrived: dinner. The main doors of the dorm opened, and a stream of girls, laughing and chatting, flowed out towards the cafeteria. The building emptied, leaving it quiet, vulnerable.
"Go," Luca whispered, giving me a nod.
I took out the laptop, connecting a small, discreet interface device to a nearby network access point I'd identified during planning. Fingers flew across the keyboard, bypassing the dormitory's aging digital defenses. Firewalls crumbled, camera feeds flickered and went dark on their monitoring loops, sensor grids showed false negatives. My area of expertise. Order restored to the digital chaos.
"Clear," I murmured, packing the laptop away.
We slipped inside. The air was different here, scented with perfumes and something else... flowery. The sound of distant voices from the cafeteria was a low drone. Guided by the layout I'd memorized, we moved quickly, silently, to the bathrooms.
The dressing room was empty. Beyond, we could hear the sounds of water, splashing, muffled voices. Girls were already in the showers. We had to be fast.
Inside the bathroom proper, the steam was thick, the sound of the showers a constant white noise. Working together, moving with practiced efficiency, we deployed the cameras. Small, coin-sized lenses with micro-transmitters, concealed in light fixtures, behind mirrors, tucked into ventilation grates. Placement was key – maximizing coverage while minimizing visibility. Strategic deployment.
Everything was recording. The feeds were live, being stored remotely. Phase One: Covert Deployment - Complete.
We retreated back to a service crawl space above the dressing room, the planned waiting area. The air was dusty, cramped, but provided cover. The plan was simple now: wait until the dorm was completely silent, everyone asleep, then slip out under the cover of darkness. A few hours of tense stillness.
"Hey Leon," Luca's voice, normally relaxed in these waiting periods, was suddenly tight. "We're fucked."
My senses went on high alert. Fucked? External variable detected. Threat level: Immediate. "Why?" I whispered back, scanning the faint light filtering under the crawl space door.
"Mai," he stated, his voice grim. "She told everyone. Security just got an alert – 'Suspicious activity in the girls' dorm dressing room.' She's coming here. With guards."
The betrayal vector had materialized. Mai hadn't just not helped; she'd actively sabotaged the operation. A variable I'd considered, but Luca had dismissed as unlikely given his leverage. His leverage had failed. Or she had higher priorities.
We heard footsteps approaching, heavy boots mixed with lighter ones. Voices calling out.
"Girls are still in the bath," Luca said, confirming my quick assessment. "Good. They won't come out practically naked. Means we only have the guards to worry about."
We heard the dressing room door open. Orders being barked. "Anyone in here! Come out slowly with your hands up!"
"Here." Luca thrust a handful of small, cold cylinders into my hand. Smoke bombs. Diversion. Tactical disengagement protocol initiated.
"Ready?" Luca whispered.
"Ready."
"Now!"
Luca threw one smoke bomb towards the dressing room entrance. It immediately erupted in a thick, disorienting cloud.
"Go!"
We dropped from the crawl space, landing silently behind the lockers. The smoke was already spreading, guards coughing. We didn't hesitate. Guided by the layout we'd memorized, we moved. Fast. Through the confusing haze, past shouting guards.
It wasn't a clean escape. We hit some of them – elbows, shoulders, anything to create space, disorientation. They were strong, trained, but compared to the intensity of our training, our reflexes, they were... manageable obstacles. We navigated corridors, slipped through service exits, vaulted low walls in the darkness outside. Every turn, every jump, every dodge was muscle memory from countless training drills. Strategic execution under pressure.
We didn't stop until we reached the relative safety of the boys' dorm. Up the stairs, down the familiar hallway, into Luca's room. We collapsed, chests heaving, the adrenaline slowly receding, leaving behind exhaustion and the smell of smoke.
Luca didn't waste time. Still catching his breath, he pulled out another laptop, connecting it wirelessly. This one was a receiver, linked to the feeds from the deployed cameras. The bathroom was now empty, the water silent, the air thick with leftover steam and maybe a hint of panic.
He did something with the files, converting them, compressing them. His fingers moved with the same focused intensity mine had during the hacking phase. He worked quickly.
"Alright," he said, leaning back. "Operation: Orbital Reconnaissance. Modified success."
Then he did something I hadn't anticipated. He wirelessly transferred a file. Not to a remote server, but... back into the school network? Specifically, he sent the raw footage file directly to a personal drive I recognized from my security bypass – Mai's personal student account.
"What was that?" I asked, catching my breath.
He shrugged. "Sent Mai a little something. Proof of concept. Let her know we succeeded. Despite her... change of plans." A subtle, cold act of dominance. A message: you can't stop me.
He closed the laptop and handed it to me. "Here. This one's yours now."
My eyes widened slightly. The laptop containing... all of it.
"Don't show it to anyone," he added, his tone casual. "Don't sell it. Don't upload it. That part was just for... me. And for Mai." He paused, a strange look in his eyes. "But the data itself... the access... that's yours. Do... whatever you want with it, I guess. Keep it. Delete it. Up to you."
"Why?" I asked, the question genuine. Not about the laptop, but the core objective. "Why do all of this... if you didn't even want to watch it yourself?" Based on his actions, he'd prioritized the planning, the execution, the challenge, the message to Mai, over the actual voyeuristic material.
Luca just smiled. That same, unsettlingly casual smile that held too many layers to dissect.
"Just for fun, Leon."