"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty!"
The warm cocoon of blankets was ripped away. A blast of air-conditioning swept over Serein's bare skin, sharp and merciless. She groaned, curling into herself, blindly reaching for the last scrap of warmth still lingering on the sheets.
Shrrk! The curtains were yanked open. White daylight flooded the room.
"Aaagh!" Serein yelped and threw a pillow over her head. But that too was stolen before she could settle back into darkness.
"Up, Serein. The sun's already past its peak!"
Her heavy eyelids cracked open. Clara stood at the window, sunlight gilding her golden hair until she seemed like a streak of radiance carved out of the morning.
"It's Sunday, Clar…" Serein muttered, her face wrinkled in a grimace.
"Exactly." Clara's smile only grew brighter as she marched over, seized both of Serein's hands, and hauled her upright. "Sunday means parties."
That one tug roused the soreness buried deep in Serein's body. Pain flared across her muscles and she inhaled sharply, nearly betraying herself with a groan. She clamped her teeth together instead, unwilling to let Clara notice.
"Do I… look like someone who enjoys parties?" Serein's voice cracked under the strain, her levo trembling dangerously close to breaking loose.
"No. But you are going." Clara answered matter-of-factly, then—without a trace of shame—slung her smaller friend over her shoulder and carried her toward the bathroom.
"Plenty of handsome men will be there, you know."
Blood rushed to Serein's head as her body was flipped upside down. Whatever dregs of drowsiness had clung to her were obliterated. She wriggled uselessly in Clara's iron grip.
Right. Clara wasn't just anyone. She was a B-Rank Hunter, and the only one who knew Serein's true identity.
Serein could have used her powers to resist, but her energy and Clara's were utterly incompatible. Forcing a guiding link would only result in searing pain for them both.
And after last night's reluctant fight, her body was already aching down to the bone. She had no choice but to surrender, letting Clara drag her away from what should have been a quiet Sunday at home.
When she finally emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a rush, Serein began scouring her messy bedroom for her wallet. Who knew where she had tossed it this time?
"You're really going out dressed like that?" Clara's eyes lifted from her phone and swept her freind up and down with all the cutting judgment of a runway critic.
Serein glanced down at herself, dropping the pillow she'd been clutching. Gray hoodie, dark jeans. Serviceable. Comfortable.
"It's not Fashion Week." she muttered, scratching her head while continuing her search.
"Oh, poor, pitiful Serein." Clara's voice dropped into syrupy pity as she rose, pulled her friend into a crushing hug, and sighed theatrically. "You've been suffering so much. That dreary office job has drained the life out of you, hasn't it?"
What now? Another performance?
Serein's salary wasn't bad at all. It had been enough to pay half the down payment for this apartment. She had simply funneled all her savings into that purchase, leaving little left over for appearances.
"Clar… can't… breathe." Serein wheezed, crushed under the weight of those ridiculous curves pressing against her chest.
Goddamn it. What the hell does she eat to get that size? And how on earth does she even fight monsters with two wrecking balls hanging off her chest?
While Serein gnashed her teeth in bitter envy, Clara released her just long enough to pull out a sleek black card and wave it like a trophy. A brilliant smile lit up her face.
"Don't worry. Big Sis will take you shopping today."
The black card. Unlimited credit, issued by the CBAA to Awakeners. Not something everyone had—only special cases.
Serein's chest tightened. She froze, then glared at Clara with dark fury.
"You took an over-rank mission, Clar?"
Over-rank missions. When a low-rank Hunter stepped into a Gate far above their level, gambling their life for obscene rewards. That black card was one such reward, a prize often bought with blood.
And it was the very same lure that had led to Serein's death in her last life. That man had dragged a ragtag party of C through A ranks, with only her—an S Rank Guide—into an S Rank Gate, chasing the black card to fund his guild. He had lived. She had not.
Clara's smile stiffened. "Well… you know how it is. Gates are opening everywhere, numbers spiking out of control. Hunters and Guides are…"
Her voice trailed off, unwilling to say aloud what the entire world already feared. The truth Serein had been running from.
Serein pressed her lips together. Her black eyes flickered with a storm of tangled feelings.
Clara knew that silence well. Serein was angry. Her own tone softened.
"Come on. Don't give me that look." Her hand slipped down to clasp Serein's. "We've been blessed. If we don't step forward to protect humanity, then who will?"
"How noble."
Serein slipped her hand free and turned away, a mocking smile curling her lips. She wasn't sure if her scorn was meant for Clara's heroics or her own cowardice.
"And when your body gets digested in the gut of some beast, who will mourn you then? The humanity you protected? Or the loved ones you abandoned?"
Clara only gave a sheepish laugh, scratching her cheek. "I'm not that noble, Se. I just want to retire early. So I need to save up fast, that's all."
Hunter salaries weren't meager enough to justify risking an over-rank mission just for money. Serein knew it. Clara knew it. She was only making excuses.
And nothing Serein said would change her mind. From the moment Clara awakened her powers, she had branded herself a hero. She wore that mantle with pride, even if it dragged her into a dungeon grave.
That was the one difference between them, the only real divide after fifteen years of friendship.
"If you die in a Gate, I'm not going to your funeral." Serein muttered, clucking her tongue as she pulled a dress from her closet.
Clara didn't look hurt. She only smiled faintly.
"That's fine. But at least promise to water my roses."
It was a joke, said lightly. Yet the words pressed heavy on both their chests. Because they both knew such a day could come at any time.
One accepted it with ease. The other shrank from it in fear.
Serein swallowed the bitterness burning on her tongue, refusing to let regret drag her back toward that path of blood and death.
The cheerful mood from earlier had thinned into silence. Clara, unwilling to let it linger, raised her voice in mock complaint as Serein tugged the dress on.
"So you really won't let me be your sugar mommy?"
"I'm not that pathetic."
Her wallet was still missing. And she refused to spend Clara's blood-stained money anyway.
"This is the last time I'm going anywhere with you." She grumbled.
"Don't be so grumpy. I can't let my best friend waste away in lonely spinsterhood, can I?"
Clara stepped close, helping her change outfits, touching up her hair and makeup.
Half of what she said was the truth. The other half was fear—fear that if she died in some dungeon, there would be no one left to stay by Serein's side.
Serein understood those thoughts. But inside, her own resolve had long since hardened.
She would never, ever let herself fall into love's snare again.
***