Aren't you among those girls?" Kaito asked, eyes narrowing as he leaned slightly toward Hiyori, his tone casual but his gaze sharp. The low buzz of the cafeteria seemed to hush around them.
"Huh...who, me?" she blinked, startled, her voice rising slightly as her eyes darted away.
A nervous flick of her eyes, her fingers gripped the edge of her tray tighter.
Kaito didn't answer. He just stared.
She fidgeted, brushing her hair behind her ear nervously before forcing a laugh. "Of course he is attractive... right?" Her voice cracked slightly.
Still, Kaito stared. Unblinking. The only movement was the slow, deliberate blink of someone reading far deeper than the surface.
It made her uneasy.
Well, it's true. Since Natsuki was among them, I was genuinely anxious about which opponent I'd end up with. I didn't want to fight any of the girls, so I declined, altogether...The memory sharpened like someone hit play on an old recording, static flickering at the edges.
When it came to the boys, the few I faced, I did win. But I remember dragging myself home, my body aching. Each footstep in that memory felt like a sledgehammer. Every joint, a creaking hinge. My mom scolded me for days, her voice had cracked between anger and worry. A wooden bowl clattered when she accidentally dropped it.
She kept hovering while cleaning up my wounds, her hands trembling slightly. She looked so heartbroken. Bandages unrolled with shaky fingers. The smell of antiseptic was strong in the air. I was so beat up like a hunting horse that had been run down and pierced by a dozen spears.
The metallic sting of blood still clung to the memory.
Even now, thinking about her expression that day makes my chest tighten. Squeeze. One heartbeat louder than the next. I guess it was too much to try fighting with raw strength!
But Kaito didn't buy Hiyori's story although he didn't say a word. He just kept sipping slowly —SLUUUURP— The sound dragged like nails on a blackboard, slicing through the tension.
Renji wasn't among my opponents. But his grudge? It's personal because we have known each other since childhood and his aware of my feelings for Natsuki. So he's convinced I'll take her from him one day.
Renji's eyes in that memory burned with more than rivalry, it was something raw. Deep-rooted.
My relationship with the boys? Well it's not warm nor hostile either. It's just... neutral. Somewhere between cold silence and wary nods in the hallway. Nothing spoken, nothing trusted, I just try to keep a distance.
As we finished eating, Kaito took a loud sip of his juice —SLURRRP— the sound dragging across the room like nails on glass. His eyes flicked from me to Ayumi, then back looking over at Hiyori, he tilted his head, voice drawn out, "Eehhh... are you sure about that?" The way he said it stretched like gum. Teasing, but with venom hiding behind the grin.
---
Meanwhile...
In another corner of the city, the marble floors of the Generation Hunter's Guild echoed under my father's heavy footsteps.
—CLACK. CLACK. CLACK— His boots struck like authority itself. The sound bounced off the walls.
The air buzzed with distant murmurs, and the scent of oil and parchment filled the halls. Pages turned. Fountain pens scratched, the cold gleam of sword hilts lined the room walls. He had just arrived-tall, sharp-eyed, authoritative. One of the five guild presidents. Coats fluttered behind him, eyes turned to watch.
The first person he locked eyes with was Mr. Yanajikan Aoyama, Lulua's father. Mr. Aoyama stepped forward, a gust of tension following in his wake, voice stern, skipping greetings entirely. "There's a problem," he said. The weight of those three words cracked like thunder. The air grew tight.
Without hesitation, my dad nodded once.
"Let's call for a meeting, right now. Everyone needs to know." Doors opened. Footsteps sped up. The hum of mana detectors clicked in the background.
---
Back at the academy, the cafeteria had mostly cleared out. Lunch was over and now came the idle time before 3 p.m., when we'd finally be dismissed. Footsteps echoed off the tiles. Trays scraped across tables being stacked, chairs screeched.
I went to find Nasuke, he stood near the hallway window, the sunlight dancing across his white hair. The sunlight glittered faintly, as if trying to crown him with calm. I asked him if he also had the remaining half of the day ideal? He said he still had a session to attend. The sparring arena was off limits, so we were left with nothing much to do than idealise.
"I'll wait for you," I told him. "Then we'll go home together." He looked surprised, almost touched. His mouth opened slightly, like he wanted to say something more but didn't.
Then came the question. "Don't you feel ashamed walking with me? I mean... you call me a stranger. A weirdo, too, right?"
I shrugged, brushing my fingers through my hair. The strands slid between my fingers, soft but unruly. "Don't treat me like a robot. I have emotions, you know. But yeah, you're kind of a stranger to me... so don't get too excited."
He laughed, loud and honest.
HAH! "You're really weird." He said.
I smirked, turning away. "Guess that makes two of us."
I made my way back toward class. My shoes tapped gently, steadily, as the hallway emptied around me. That's when I ran into her.
Hiyori.
She stood there leaning on the hallway glass wall, arms crossed, giving me a glare sharp enough to cut glass. Her eyes flared, like she'd been standing there for a while, stewing in something she wanted to say. It was the kind of look you gave someone who just took the last piece of your favourite cake.
I didn't flinch. I just kept walking. Her gaze burned into the back of my neck, but I didn't let it show. Three steps passed then she called out my name.
"Nageya!"
I stopped for half a second, then continued. Steps dragging slightly against the tile floor.
"Aren't you gonna say hi to me?" She asked. But I wasn't interested. I said nothing, my silence hung in the air like mist. Heavy. Awkward.
"What? Aren't we friends?"
Still quiet, although it left me wondering when we had become friends?
"You don't want to talk to me?" She could clearly tell it was pointless, but wasn't ready to give up. As of she had been patiently waiting for the day I would finally talk to her. But again I just stayed silent dragging my feet forward as she talked to herself.
She stepped to the centre of the hallway, exasperated. "You really are strange, Nageya. You act like we're enemies or something. You can't even talk to your own classmates." Each word landed with a thud, frustration bubbling behind every syllable.
Whatever she wanted from me seemed important to her, but I barely even knew her. That's when I stopped. Fully. I turned slowly and looked at her. Just for a moment. "Who are you again? I don't think I remember you."
She didn't flinch.
Instead, she gave me a smirk, not offended, not shocked. Just resigned, like she'd seen this side of me before. And maybe... she had. The smirk wasn't of anger. It was familiarity. Disappointment served cold.
Truthfully, I wasn't trying to hurt her. I'm good with faces, especially the girls, they're always hanging around. But names? I don't bother unless you've done something unforgettable. So trying to chat like we were old friends in the middle of the hallway?
Felt like counting blank pages one by one.
She narrowed her eyes, "You really need to watch your back, Nageya." Then she walked away, her footsteps deliberate and sharp.
—CLACK. CLACK. CLACK. —Each step was like punctuation. As if just hearing one word from me had satisfied her.
Moments later, I got a call. The ringtone buzzed in my ear, slicing through the silence.
—VRRRR-VRRRR— It caught me off guard. After the call, I walked back to class then I caught sight of Ike. Then the thought hit me. "Hey." Ike! That was your name, right?
"Hey, what's up." Yeah, that's me, you need anything? His voice calm and clear but I could see in his eyes that he was surprised.
"I need you to come by my neighbourhood this evening," I said, slipping my phone back into my pocket. But I guess I was too bold for some who I wasn't even close to.
He raised a brow. "Cool. What time?" Hmm... he accepted too quick without questions, as if he was waiting for it.
"After online studies. Think you can improvise?" He smirked. "I'll finish early. Three lessons straight, boom. I'll head over right after."
"Alright. Sounds cool." Now, that was easy. For a person like Ike who I wasn't even close to, his response was a surprise, and he didn't even ask questions.
Meanwhile, Ayumi was bent over my desk, carefully gathering my books. Her movements were precise, her brows furrowed in concentration. Her fingers tapped softly against the book covers. Her focus was unreal, like she was solving a puzzle only she could see.
Only my bag with what i neede to take home remained. Ike nudged me with his elbow. A playful bump-just enough to jolt me. "Man, you're seriously lucky." I tilted my head slightly. "What do you mean?"
He nodded toward Ayumi. Her braid bounced as she leaned forward slightly, still working. "Look at her, so focused. Like she's getting paid to be your secretary."
I chuckled. "Maybe she is. Only she knows why she's doing it. But I like it with her around." Time slipped by, the air felt softer.
Then Nasuke arrived, panting lightly, sweat glistened on his forehead. His chest rose and fell with controlled breaths as if he was trying not to mis his bus. "I'm ready to go home brother. Is Dad giving us a ride?"
I shook my head, "Nah. We'll walk." Stretching slightly, my shoulders cracked quietly. Ike's gaze flicked between us. "Dude... is that your brother?"
I answered with a smirk. "Yeah-I mean, no. No, he isn't." Nasuke let out a sight. "If you're gonna lie, at least commit."
That's when Ike's face lit up like he'd just discovered a secret level in a game. He darted to Nasuke and grabbed his hand.
Nasuke flinched slightly at the sudden attention. "Wait, are you really his brother? You guys look totally different! Your hair! Your height! What are you? Are you really nine, like they say? What's your secret?!"
Then he turned to me. "How old is he, really?" I muttered to my shoulder, "I really don't know that guy... total stranger."
We finallyset off, blending with the river of students flooding the streets. Bags swinging. Laughter bubbling nearby. Footsteps layered like soft rain.
Then Nasuke squinted. "Isn't that Dad's car?" I followed his gaze. Tires screeched slightly as it sped past.
SKRRRT!— "Yeah, it is."
"Why's he in such a rush?" He asked dragging in his steps. I didn't want to hide it from him, he would get mad if he found out and first thing he thinks of while upset is to spar and obviously I'm his opponent always. So i just let it out. "Something about the dungeon thieves."
Nasuke's voice rose. "What?! I thought they were sealed!"
"They were. Looks like they broke through. Now they're in the city." Nasuke's steps slowed even more. "That's why he's in a hurry..."
"Yeah." Then I added, "But he's just going home, though."
When we reached the house, Mom was already at the door. She flung it open the second we stepped onto the porch.
CREAK-THUD!— "Welcome home, my babies!" she called, arms wide like wings. Her voice was sunshine, pure, bright, and warm.
Same old Mama, still treating us like kids. The scent hit me instantly, our favourite, chicken-rice porridge soup. The steam wafted like a hug in the air. Spices gentle but deep. Warm. Nostalgic. Comfort in a bowl. She sat us down, beaming, the bowls clinked gently on the table. Her smile didn't fade.