The week rolled in slowly like a lazy river. Morning classes, lectures on qi circulation, and alchemy theory became the standard melody of Jigen's new life at Celestial Root High. And through it all, Jigen continued to blend into the background like a perfectly average boy—despite being anything but that.
Except now, he had a tail.
Not literally.
Her name was Akai.
From the moment Jigen agreed to be her best friend—under questionable restroom pressure—Akai decided it was an unbreakable contract. She followed him during lunch, sat beside him during lectures, even matched his pace in the hallways.
Jigen didn't dislike her presence. He just didn't understand it.
Why her?
Why now?
Why him?
He didn't ask. He just continued his lazy, slow-moving life, pretending to be exactly what the world believed he was—a non-cultivator with zero presence.
But Akai didn't treat him like the rest of the school did. She didn't look at him with pity. She didn't mock him for being unable to activate a single wisp of qi. She just… stayed by his side, like a quiet force of nature.
Even now.
They sat on the rooftop during lunch break. Akai had brought two boxed meals again. She always cooked too much for herself "by accident."
"You like rice cakes?" she asked, offering one.
Jigen took it. "I don't dislike them."
"That means you like them," she interpreted.
"No, it means I don't dislike them."
"Same thing."
"It's really not."
She squinted at him. "You argue too much."
"I'm just being accurate."
Akai leaned back against the fencing, her long white hair catching the sunlight like woven silk. "You're a strange guy."
Jigen chewed thoughtfully. "So I've been told."
Her gaze softened as she watched him.
"People talk about you, you know."
"Let them."
"They say you don't belong here. That you're a waste of space."
Jigen didn't respond immediately.
"I don't mind being underestimated," he finally said. "It gives people confidence. And confidence makes people predictable."
Akai blinked.
"You don't sound like someone who doesn't have cultivation."
He shrugged. "Maybe I read too much."
"Hmm."
She studied him carefully, as though trying to peel back layers he'd hidden behind a bored expression.
Then she smirked.
"Alright, bookworm. After school today, we're going on a date."
Jigen froze mid-chew. "…A what?"
"A date."
"That's not something best friends do."
"Says who?"
"Says everyone."
"Then we'll be best friends on a date."
Jigen narrowed his eyes. "That's… not how logic works."
"Too bad," she said, standing up. "Meet me at East Garden Plaza after school. If you ditch me, I'll break into your house and eat your snacks."
"That's trespassing."
"That's friendship."
Jigen sighed into his rice cake.
"She's crazier than I thought."
**
After the final bell rang, students poured out of classrooms like a swarm of spirit bees. Many ran to their family carriages or private flying swords. Others stayed for club practice—beast taming, formation dueling, or elixir brewing.
Jigen strolled out alone, his backpack lazily slung over one shoulder.
He made no effort to hide his direction. East Garden Plaza was only a short walk from the academy. A public square lined with tea shops, noodle stalls, floating lotus ponds, and occasional street performers balancing elemental flames for tips.
Akai was already waiting.
She wore a casual outfit—dark jeans, a pale sweater, and a red ribbon tied into her hair. Her cold and aloof aura from school seemed to vanish when she smiled at him.
"You came," she said.
"I was hungry," Jigen replied.
"I brought you snacks."
He accepted the small box. Inside were spicy tofu cubes and rice balls shaped like little foxes.
"You… made these?"
She nodded proudly.
"You don't seem like the cooking type."
"You don't seem like the breathing type."
"…what does that even mean?"
Akai grinned. "Let's walk."
The two strolled past food stalls and glowing koi fountains. Children practiced their first qi spells on the sidelines while parents cheered them on. A group of teens sparred nearby, sending bursts of flame and water into the air.
Jigen kept his hands in his pockets, calmly observing.
Akai watched him with curiosity.
"You ever wish you could do what they're doing?" she asked.
"Nope."
"Not even a little?"
"I'd rather not get sweaty."
She laughed. "You're hopeless."
They stopped by a small tea stand run by an old cultivator with a long beard and a blindfold over his eyes. He handed them two steaming cups of lotus blossom tea.
Akai took a sip and glanced sideways. "So… what do you want to do in the future?"
Jigen tilted his cup. "Sleep. Eat. Avoid stress."
"That's not a dream. That's just sloth."
He shrugged. "It's a peaceful dream."
She stared at him for a moment. Then smiled.
"…You're weird, Jigen."
"I know."
"And I like that."
He looked at her, expression unreadable.
She blushed slightly, then looked away. "Not like that. I mean I like that you're different."
Jigen didn't reply. Instead, he finished his tea and placed the cup back on the cart.
As they continued walking, the lights of the city began to glow softly. Streetlamps carved from spirit jade lit up with golden halos. The breeze carried a hint of medicinal herbs and sweet tofu.
Akai suddenly stopped.
"Hey, Jigen."
"Hm?"
She turned to him, her tone softer than usual.
"I know everyone thinks you're weak. But I don't care about that. I just… want you to know that you're not alone."
A pause.
Jigen looked at her for a long moment.
"Thanks," he said simply.
Akai smiled.
"Let's be best friends for a long, long time."
He nodded.
"…Sure."
The next morning arrived with the slow hum of city life. Shanghai, in the year 5679, never really slept. Hover-transport carriages buzzed overhead, spiritual birds chirped on high towers, and qi street lights blinked softly like stars along the sidewalks.
Jigen sat in the back seat of his family's sleek black hover-carriage, staring out the window as the driver took him to school.
"Akai again today?" asked the driver, a middle-aged man with a friendly smile.
Jigen tilted his head. "What do you mean?"
"I see her waiting for you every morning now."
"…She's persistent."
"Persistent girls are usually the dangerous kind," the driver chuckled.
Jigen didn't reply. He just leaned his head against the glass, letting his thoughts drift.
He didn't dislike Akai. Not even close. But every day she followed him, every time she smiled or forced her way into his space, she made it harder for him to keep his mask on.
He wasn't supposed to have friends.
He wasn't supposed to be close to anyone.
That was the rule.
He'd made it himself.
**
At Celestial Root High, the morning bell echoed through the jade corridors like a divine chant. Students hurried to class, dressed in their signature white and gold robes—though some wore custom colors depending on their cultivation clans.
Jigen, of course, wore simple black.
No clan sigil.
No spirit rings.
No aura.
He may as well have been a broomstick standing in a classroom.
Akai was already in her seat beside him, sketching something in her notebook.
He glanced over. "What's that?"
She tilted the page. It was a drawing of a man with spiky hair holding a sword made of flames. "My ideal man," she said flatly.
Jigen blinked. "...That's not me."
"Nope."
"Why show me, then?"
"Because you're my best friend, and I want your opinion."
He raised an eyebrow. "Looks like he's compensating for something."
Akai burst into laughter, nearly dropping her pencil.
"You're evil," she said.
"No. Just honest."
She nudged him with her elbow. "That's why you're interesting."
Before Jigen could respond, the teacher entered the room—a tall man in golden robes with a long scar across his forehead.
"Today," the teacher began, "we study the Eight Paths of Cultivation. Those of you from ancient clans already know this. Those of you who don't… try to keep up."
Jigen sighed internally.
Another lecture he didn't need.
He already knew more than this teacher could ever dream of. But he sat still, took notes, and pretended to be confused like everyone else. He even raised his hand once just to blend in.
Akai glanced at him halfway through class.
She didn't say anything.
But her eyes seemed to ask a question he didn't want to answer.
**
At lunch, Akai dragged Jigen to the courtyard again.
He preferred eating alone, under some tree far from noise. But Akai had different plans.
She laid out a full picnic blanket under a floating plum tree. Spirit blossoms fell around them as if on cue.
Jigen stared. "You do realize we're just eating sandwiches, right?"
"It's about the ambience, dummy."
"I feel like I'm on a date."
"We are on a date."
"Didn't we agree we were best friends?"
"We did."
"…Then?"
"Best friends can date."
"That's not how logic works."
"Logic is overrated."
Jigen gave up and sat down.
She handed him a sandwich. "This one's beef with phoenix-spice."
He bit into it. "Too spicy."
"Then suffer."
He sighed. "You're really trying hard."
Akai looked at him, more seriously than before.
"Yeah. I am."
"…Why?"
"Because you don't open up. You act like nothing matters. But I can tell—you're carrying something."
Jigen's hand paused.
"I'm not," he lied.
She didn't argue. Just took a sip of her water.
"You're good at hiding," she said after a while.
He looked up. "And you're bad at giving up."
Akai smiled. "Exactly. So I'll keep annoying you until you talk."
"Good luck with that."
"I don't need luck. I have charm."
Jigen smirked. "…Debatable."
She threw a pickle at him.
**
Later that day, Jigen walked home alone under the evening lights of Shanghai. Spirit dragons flew overhead like decorative lanterns, casting long shadows down the street.
He passed a group of kids practicing their first cultivation techniques. A little girl summoned a glowing butterfly. A boy managed to hover an inch above the ground before falling on his butt.
Jigen smiled faintly.
So innocent.
So excited.
So vulnerable.
He missed that.
He reached his house—an enormous estate surrounded by spiritual wards and protective barriers. The gates opened for him automatically. Servants bowed as he walked in, but he said nothing.
His father, Jiang Su, waited in the study.
"How was school?" he asked, sipping tea.
"Same as usual."
"Anything new?"
"Girl named Akai won't stop following me."
His father raised an eyebrow. "White-haired girl?"
"Yeah."
"She's from the Akai clan. Noble bloodline. Dangerous reputation."
"I figured."
"You want me to… handle it?"
Jigen shook his head. "No. It's fine."
His father leaned forward. "You getting attached?"
"No."
"Good. It's not time yet."
"I know."
"Keep your mask on, son. The world isn't ready."
Jigen nodded.
"I'll stay ordinary."
His father smiled. "That's my boy."
Jigen left the study, walked to his room, and sat on the edge of his bed.
From his pocket, he pulled out a small folded note.
He hadn't noticed it earlier—Akai must've slipped it into his backpack.
It read:
> "Even if the whole world laughs at you, I won't.
I'll be here.
Waiting."
Jigen stared at it for a long moment.
Then folded it neatly and placed it in his drawer.
He lay back on his bed, arms behind his head.
No one must know who he truly was.
Not yet.
But maybe…
Just maybe…
It wouldn't hurt to keep a friend.
Just one.