Dan practically fell down the stairs, his dark hair—usually a mess of obsidian with those signature crimson streaks—looking like a literal bird's nest today. To make matters worse, a black plastic comb was still buried sideways in the tangle, sticking out like a misplaced antenna. His tie was a complete disaster, twisted into a knot that sat closer to his shoulder than his throat, and his school uniform was so wrinkled it looked like he'd slept in a trash compactor.
"I hear you, Mum!" he barked, his voice echoing off the kitchen tiles as he scrambled toward the cabinets. He slapped two slices of bread onto a chipped ceramic plate, smeared a chaotic glob of strawberry jam across them, and shoved the whole thing into his mouth at once.
"I promise I'll be there tonight," he groaned, his words muffled by bread just as his forehead made a violent, hollow thud against the edge of the hanging cupboard. "Yeah, yeah... tell Dad I said hi."
A small, pained smile flickered on his face as he ended the call, shoving the phone into his bag with zero grace. "I'm gonna be so dead," he muttered, bolting for the exit. He slammed the door behind him—not even checking if it actually locked—and flew down the apartment complex stairs. He hit the pavement in a blur of motion, weaving through morning traffic like a man possessed. Tires screeched and drivers leaned out of their windows, hurling a colorful variety of insults his way, but Dan was already a block away.
Meanwhile, a few houses down, the atmosphere was just as hectic.
"Areia! Wait! You haven't had a bite to eat!" her mother screamed, rushing onto the porch.
"Just toss me an apple like in the movies!" Areia yelled back, already halfway out the gate. She was already glowing with a fine sheen of sweat, her striking snow-white hair whipped into a frenzy around her face. Her deep purple eyes remained icy and focused, even in the chaos.
Dan tore past her without so much as a glance.
"Mum, hurry!" Areia shouted, catching the fruit mid-air before launching herself after him.
"How dare you just leave me like that?!" she groaned, her breath hitching as she pushed her legs to keep pace. She tried to take a bite of the apple while sprinting, but her foot hit a literal snag; the fruit slipped from her grip, bouncing uselessly into the gutter. She didn't even look back.
"Mr. Bora is gonna skin me alive if I'm late again!" Dan yelled over his shoulder, his chest heaving as he gripped the straps of his bag. "Sorry! Next time—if we aren't dying—we'll walk together!"
He didn't slow down, clearing a red light just as the cross-traffic began to surge.
"We're supposed to be in this together!" Areia panted. She didn't even break stride as a low-slung, matte-black Lamborghini pulled out into the street; she planted one hand on the hood and vaulted over it in a seamless, athletic arc. "Wait for me, Dan!"
The school gates loomed just a few blocks away, shimmering under the morning heat. Dan risked a glance at his watch: 8:56 AM. I'll make it, he thought, his lungs burning like they were filled with hot coals. I have to.
"For someone... so fast... you really suck... in the stamina department," Areia panted, finally pulling alongside him. She was a mess; sweat slicked her forehead, and her snow-white hair was plastered against her neck in damp, jagged clumps.
"You're one to talk!" Dan huffed, but his legs were turning to lead. His pace faltered, his stride shortening by the second. Areia didn't answer—she just kept pushing, the gap between them widening as she surged ahead.
Dan let out a final, pathetic wheeze and slowed to a dead halt. He doubled over, hands on his knees, sweat dripping off the tip of his nose and onto the hot pavement. He checked his watch again: 8:58 AM.
"I'm not... going to make it," he muttered to the asphalt.
"What are you doing? Staring at the dirt isn't going to get you to class!" Areia was suddenly back, hovering over him. Before he could protest, she snatched his wrist in a vice-like grip and began hauling him forward. "There's still time! Don't go losing your soul now!" she grunted, her teeth grit in pure determination.
Dan and Areia were slumped in their chairs in the teachers office, heads hanging low like wilted plants.
"So... what's the excuse this time?"
The voice belonged to Mr. Bora. He was a piece of work—bright red hair that defied gravity and a muscular build that stretched the fabric of his athletic jersey. His glasses sat precariously on the very tip of his nose, and in his casual jeans, he looked more like a gym bro who'd wandered into the wrong room than an actual teacher.
"Um, Mr. Bora... you see... my cat fell down a well," Dan said, trying to sound firm despite his exhaustion. "It took an hour to fish the poor guy out. I'd rather prioritize the life of a living creature over a morning of school."
Bora's piercing red eyes bored straight into Dan's soul, unblinking. After a beat of silence, his gaze shifted to the girl sitting next to him. "And you? What's your story?"
"There was an armed robbery right near my house," Areia responded, her purple eyes cool and steady. "We were ordered to stay indoors until the danger passed. I couldn't exactly walk into a shootout, sir."
The teacher let out a long, weary sigh. "You know, if you guys are going to lie, you should at least try to make it believable once in a while." He leaned back, a small, devious smirk playing on his lips. "I'll go easy on the punishment since you both had the dignity to pass out cold ten feet from the gate. But an hour late? That's extra homework and some community service for both of you."
"I can't believe him," Dan groaned as soon as Bora turned away, slumping so far back in his chair he almost slid off. "We were so close. It's totally unfair."
"Yeah, tell me about it," Areia sighed. She was already busy nursing a carton of milk, pulling deeply from the straw. With no teacher for the first two periods, the room was a zoo of chatter and shifting desks.
"Since it's Mr. Bora, we're probably scrubbing toilets again," Dan sulked. Then, a cheeky grin cracked through his misery. "Actually, I'm surprised you fainted too. I thought you were the 'unstoppable' one."
"Well, I guess I'm not all that after all," Areia muttered, looking away to hide a faint flush.
She shoved the empty carton into the depths of her desk. Unlike the other girls in their crisp school skirts, Areia wore the dark trousers usually reserved for the boys. Feeling the stifling heat of the room, she finally peeled off her blazer and yanked her tie loose, exposing the sharp lines of her uniform shirt.
"Why were you even wearing the jacket if it's this hot?" Dan asked, resting his head on the cool surface of his desk.
"It didn't exactly occur to me while I was sprinting for my life, okay?" she groaned, grabbing a heavy textbook and using it to fan her face with aggressive, desperate strokes.
The classroom door didn't just open; it slammed against the wall with a crack that silenced the room instantly. Chatter died mid-sentence as students scrambled back to their seats, spines straightening like soldiers. Flynn walked in, his long blonde hair pulled back in a neat, shimmering ponytail. His blue eyes were as indifferent as a frozen lake, and in his tailored charcoal suit and glass-like polished shoes, he looked less like a teacher and more like a CEO arriving for a hostile takeover.
Flynn took his place at the front, his gaze sweeping across the room like a thermal scanner. His eyes snagged on Dan, who was still slumped lazily across his desk, looking like a discarded rag. Without breaking his stride, Flynn plucked a piece of chalk from the tray and flicked it toward Dan's head with lethal precision.
Clack!
Areia didn't even look up. She simply tilted her textbook upward, swatting the chalk mid-air with a practiced flick of her wrist.
The sudden movement snapped Dan awake. He blinked, his eyes meeting Flynn's icy stare, and he bolted upright so fast his chair screeched. The class erupted into a collective snicker.
"Miss Areia," Flynn spoke, his voice dangerously calm. "Next time I am doling out a reminder, I would prefer you didn't interfere."
"I saw a fly, sir. I simply dealt with it," Areia replied, her voice just as cool and steady as his.
"A fly? What are you guys talking about?" Dan hissed through his teeth, using that ventriloquist technique he'd spent weeks mastering to keep his jaw still.
"It's nothing, don't worry about it," Areia hissed back, her eyes fixed forward.
"Anyway," Flynn's voice boomed, recapturing the room's attention. "We have a new student joining us today. I expect you all to be welcoming."
"A new student? At the end of the term?" Dan muttered. He wasn't the only one; a low hum of confused whispers rippled through the desks.
"You may come in now, Miss Antrea," Flynn called out.
The door creaked open slowly. A girl stepped in, and the room seemed to brighten by several shades. Her dark, obsidian hair was impossibly long, cascading down her back until it brushed against her ankles. She stood barely five feet tall, looking tiny against the chalkboard. She wore a vibrant yellow sundress that popped against the sterile classroom, and her bag was a chaotic mosaic of colorful, glittery stickers. She beamed at them, her face etched in a smile so genuine it felt contagious.
"Introduce yourself," Flynn said softly, his tone losing a fraction of its bite.
"I'm Antrea Gold! It is so, so nice to meet you all!" she chirped, her voice like a bell.
For a moment, silence hung in the air. In a school governed by a quiet, unspoken hierarchy, every student was thinking the same thing: Who gets to sit next to the pretty new girl?
"Whoa... she's adorable," Dan whispered under his breath.
"Quit staring, you'll bore a hole through her," Areia huffed, her purple eyes narrowing.
"Areia, scoot over!" Dan whispered urgently, nudging her with his elbow. "Move so I can get a seat near her!"
"Like hell I will," Areia grinned, planting her feet firmly.
"Come on, move!" Dan gave her a shove, and Areia shoved back twice as hard. Within seconds, the two were a blur of elbows and hushed bickering.
"To the hallway. Both of you," Flynn's voice cut through the air like an ice pick.
"This is all your fault," Areia hissed through grit teeth. She was standing perfectly still, a heavy plastic bucket of water balanced precariously on her head.
"If you had just moved over, we wouldn't be out here!" Dan huffed, rhythmically pushing a mop across the linoleum floor. "Now she's sitting with Thranduil. Do you know how much of a lead that gives him?"
"She isn't even all that," Areia muttered, lost in thought as she stared at the wall. "I mean, aren't there already a ton of pretty girls in this school?"
"Yeah, come to think of it, this place is heaven," Dan said carelessly, leaning his chin on the top of the mop handle. "There's Lilly from the next class, Cyra in year two, then Nox and Vea..." He paused, looking at the floor. "Put the bucket down for a sec, I need more water if I'm gonna finish this."
Areia complied, her white hair nearly touching the tiles as she lowered the bucket. "And?"
"And what?" Dan asked, thinking hard. Then, his eyes traveled up to her face. He caught the look in her eyes and a mischievous grin spread across his face. "Ohhh, I see what you're doing. You want me to call you pretty, don't you?"
Areia flinched, her face turning a sudden, sharp pink. She lunged forward, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him down to her level. "Say it!" she growled.
"Nah, I don't think I will!" Dan laughed, using the mop like a shield to keep her at bay.
"Oh, come on!" Areia's voice went small and desperate, though she didn't let go of his tie.
"Aren't I pretty, too? Just say it!"
"Get away from me!" Dan wheezed, dying of laughter as they stumbled down the half-mopped hall.
A group of older boys rounded the corner, stopping dead in their tracks at the sight of the two bickering juniors.
"What are those two even doing?" one of them asked, completely baffled.
The leader of the group sighed, shaking his head as he walked past. "Just leave them. Don't stare too long... whatever they have, it's infectious."
Dan's sneakers lost their grip on the suspiciously shiny floor. "Wait! Wait! Areia! I'm gonna fall!" he yelled, his arms windmilling wildly in a desperate attempt to defy gravity.
Too late. Dan's feet slid out from under him, and as he went down, he instinctively grabbed the nearest thing—which happened to be Areia's blazer. He went down hard, taking her with him, and the heavy plastic bucket followed suit. A tidal wave of lukewarm, grey soapy water cascaded over them, drenching them from head to toe in an instant.
Dan blinked, staring up at Areia's face hovering inches from his. She was pinning him to the floor, her white hair dripping suds onto his nose as she clutched her head in a daze.
"You planning on getting off me anytime soon?" Dan asked, a cheeky grin finally breaking through his shock.
"Oh, shut up," Areia huffed, rolling off him to sit on the soaked linoleum. She didn't even bother trying to dry off; her uniform was already translucent in spots and heavy with water. They were both officially ruined.
"This is totally your fault," Dan groaned, turning his head away to hide his smirk. They sat in silence for a few heartbeats, the only sound being the drip-drop of water hitting the floor, before they both burst into uncontrollable laughter.
Unfortunately, at the far end of the hallway, a familiar silhouette appeared. Mr. Bora was standing there, arms crossed over his muscular chest, his red hair practically glowing with annoyance at the mess.
By the time they finally stumbled out of the school gates, it was 8:00 PM. Between the extra cleaning, the mountain of makeup homework, and the sheer exhaustion of detention, they were barely functioning.
"I feel like I could build a literal rocket right now with the amount of info Mr. Bora drilled into us," Areia huffed, her bag slung haphazardly across one shoulder.
Dan didn't respond. He walked beside her in silence, his face washed in the bluish light of his phone screen. Areia glanced at him, her brows furrowed.
"What's wrong? Did someone hack your gaming account or something?" she asked, leaning in close.
"No, nothing like that," Dan muttered, his thumb scrolling frantically. "My mum is hosting a barbecue tonight at nine. If I go all the way back to my place to change, I'm definitely gonna miss the food. It's already 8:45!"
"Can't we just go as we are?" Areia suggested, looming over his shoulder to peek at his screen. "I mean, I know you don't live with your folks, but you can just stay the night there. Besides, I'd totally like to tag along... if that's okay?"
"Yeah, I was gonna bring you anyway," Dan said, shoving the phone into his pocket. "But I can't show up like this. We got soaked in hallway water, Areia. I can literally feel the lemon-scented soap suds in my armpits. It's gross."
"It's not that bad," Areia said, lifting her collar to sniff herself.
"Easy for you to say! I was the human sponge on the bottom!" Dan sulked.
"Fine, fine. Why don't we just stop by my place then?" Areia suggested. "I'm sure I've got some oversized clothes you could squeeze into. Plus, I have my bike—we can ride to your mum's place together and save time."
Dan paused, weighing his options. "Honestly, I'm tempted. It's the only logical choice... but your parents always look at me like I'm some high-level delinquent whenever I show up," he groaned as they reached the corner, waiting for the street light to flip.
"Don't worry, you'll just be in my room, so they won't get the chance to pester you," Areia smiled, her purple eyes bright in the dark.
"Then it's a deal," Dan grinned back. He checked the countdown on the crosswalk and his eyes widened. "Actually, let's move! We are officially out of walking time!"
Without warning, Dan bolted, his damp shoes squeaking against the pavement.
"Wait for me!" Areia yelled, throwing her head back and sprinting after him into the night.
Areia swung the massive iron gates open, bowing slightly as Dan strutted past.
"Thank you, my humble maid," Dan said, his voice dripping with mock royalty. Areia just laughed, a sharp, genuine sound that cut through the quiet of the wealthy neighborhood.
"You remember the usual spot?" she whispered, her eyes darting toward the glowing windows of the main house. Unlike Dan's cramped apartment, Areia's place was a massive, sprawling duplex—the kind of house that made people stop and stare.
"Yeah, yeah. Round the back, up the tree, and through the window," Dan whispered back, already moving toward the shadows. "I'll see you up there. Don't make a sound, 'cause I'm definitely beating you to the room."
As he turned the corner, a small, territorial bark erupted from the porch. Areia lunged forward, scooping up her tiny, furry terror of a dog before it could alert the entire street. She shot Dan a frantic signal to start climbing, then plastered on a fake smile as she headed for the front door with the wriggling animal in her arms.
Dan crept around the back, his shoes silent on the manicured grass. He found the familiar oak tree and scaled it with practiced ease, reaching for the windowsill. He nudged the glass, and it slid open with a soft groan.
"Back again, I see."
Dan froze, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. He looked down. Standing in the garden below was Areia's mother, Miss Venta. She was a plump, radiant woman with rich brown hair tied back, holding a set of gardening shears and a fresh potted plant.
She didn't look angry; she just smiled up at him, her eyes twinkling. "Don't worry, I'm not going to rat on you. Just get inside before you fall."
"Thanks, Miss Venta!" Dan called down, his face heating up as he scrambled through the window and tumbled into the room.
"Kids these days," he heard her chuckle as she wandered off toward the rosebushes.
Even though Dan had been in Areia's room a dozen times, the sheer scale of it always caught him off guard. The space was a minimalist's dream—pristine white walls that made the colorful lava lamp on her desk look like a glowing alien artifact. Right next to it sat a massive custom PC setup, the dual monitors glowing with the paused screen of a high-stakes game. A plush, black-and-purple gaming chair sat empty, looking like a throne.
Dan collapsed onto Areia's bed. The black sheets were soft and smelled faintly of her shampoo, and the mattress was so comfy he felt like he was floating on a cloud.
Because the room was soundproof, the house was eerily silent until the door clicked open. Areia walked in, looking strangely triumphant, still clutching her mean little dog. The second the dog spotted Dan, its eyes turned red with fury and it let out a jagged bark. Without missing a beat, Areia tossed the dog straight out the open window.
"Don't ruin this for me!" she yelled after the falling fluff-ball.
"That... was a little harsh, don't you think?" Dan said, wide-eyed.
"He's fine, he'll land on his feet," Areia sighed, letting her school bag fall to the floor with a heavy thud. She turned toward her closet, her energy shifting as she started unbuttoning her uniform shirt right there. "I'm gonna bathe first. While I'm in there, you freshen up at the sink and I'll toss you the clothes."
She glanced at Dan, who had turned a bright, violent shade of pink and was staring intensely at a spot on the opposite wall.
"Fine, fine! I'll go to the bathroom!" she huffed, grabbing a change of clothes and disappearing behind the ensuite door.
Dan took a long, shaky breath, his heart still racing for an entirely different reason now. Just what is she thinking? he wondered, burying his face in his hands.
Dan cupped his hands under the tap, washing his face with the warm water. It felt incredible, washing away the grit of the school day and the sticky residue of the mop-bucket disaster.
Suddenly, the bathroom door creaked open just a crack. Areia poked her head out, her long white hair still heavy with water and clinging to her shoulders like silk.
"Hey, Dan? You don't have a problem with wearing matching outfits, do you?" she called out, her purple eyes shimmering with a hint of mischief.
Dan grinned into the mirror, wiping droplets from his chin. "Nah, as long as it's not one of those 'pink girl' aesthetics. I have a reputation to uphold, you know."
Areia let out a sharp laugh and lobbed a fresh bar of soap at his head. "You know I don't do that! Catch!"
A few minutes later, Areia stepped out into the room, looking effortlessly cool. she had swapped her uniform for a massive, oversized chocolate-brown hoodie and slim-fit black jeans. On the front of the hoodie, a bold, detailed graphic of a Gundam-style pilot stared back at him.
"Here's yours," she said, tossing a bundle of fabric his way.
Dan caught it, unfolding the heavy cotton. His eyes widened as he saw the print—a matching character from the same series, wielding an absurdly large mechanical rifle.
"Wait, isn't this the new character from—"
"—Mystery Robot?!" they both finished in perfect unison, their voices echoing in the soundproof room.
Dan pulled the hoodie over his head, adjusting the hem. The fabric was soft and smelled like expensive laundry detergent. He traced the lines of the character on his chest, still reeling from the latest episode.
"I still can't believe he died just like that," Areia giggled, leaning against her desk. "Talk about a plot twist."
"Right?! And who would've guessed his dog was the mastermind the whole time?" Dan added, shaking his head. Just as he was about to dive into a full fan-theory, his phone buzzed violently in his pocket. He pulled it out, a bright notification lighting up his thumb.
"Mum says she's giving us an extra ten minutes before the food is served," Dan said, a relieved smile spreading across his face. "I think we'd better get moving if we want to beat the rush."
"Yeah. Take the window route again," Areia said, snatching up her headset and her phone in one smooth motion. "I'll meet you at the back gate. I've gotta go grab the bike keys without being seen."
She shot him a quick wink before slipping out of the bedroom door, leaving Dan to scramble back toward the oak tree.
The bike was a masterpiece—a sleek, jet-black beast with neon purple accents that matched Areia's eyes perfectly. It looked fast even while standing still.
"When you said a bike, I thought you meant a bicycle or something! I didn't think you'd actually have a full-blown motorcycle," Dan said, his jaw practically hitting the garage floor in awe.
"Quit nagging," she sighed, plucking a spare matte-black helmet from the shelf and tossing it at his chest.
"Do you even have a license for this thing?" Dan asked, catching the helmet with a thud. "What if we crash? I'm too young and handsome for a skin graft!"
"I'm eighteen, genius. I wouldn't have the bike if I didn't have the license. Besides, we literally got ours at the same time, remember? Or are you not actually Dan, but an alien copy?" She grinned, her eyes glinting under the garage lights.
"Affirmative. I am Mac 2.4. I have replaced the human known as Dan for research purposes," Dan spoke in a flat, metallic monotone, his head tilting like a glitching droid. Areia erupted into a fit of giggles.
"Don't you two have somewhere to be?" Miss Venta's voice drifted over from the corner of the garage. She was leaning against the wall, having already opened the heavy automatic gates. "The gate's been open for five minutes now."
"Sorry, Mum! And thanks again," Areia smiled, sliding her helmet on and mounting the bike in one fluid motion. Dan hopped on behind her, feeling the power of the engine beneath them. "Cover for me, Mum! I might not be home tonight!" she called out, her voice muffled by the visor.
"Yeah, yeah," Miss Venta waved them off dismissively, a knowing look in her eyes. "Have fun, you two."
"We will!" Dan shouted back. "Having fun is my entire life's purpose, after all!"
With a sudden, violent kick, the bike roared to life. The engine's growl echoed through the garage, vibrating in Dan's chest. Areia revved the throttle, and the bike surged forward like an angry tiger released from a cage. She carved a perfect arc through the driveway and vanished out into the street, the red taillights streaking into the night.
Miss Venta stood in the driveway, watching the light disappear into the distance with a soft smile on her lips. She glanced up at the main house; a man— Areia's father—was standing at the second-floor window, having watched the whole escape play out. Miss Venta threw him a silent thumbs-up, and he responded with a small, approving nod before drawing the curtains. She hit the remote, and the automatic gates began to hiss shut, sealing the quiet luxury of the estate as she walked back toward the front door.
Out on the open road, the wind was whipping past them in a cold blur.
"Whoa! You're a pretty good rider after all!" Dan yelled over the roar of the wind, his hair whipping wildly under his helmet.
"Quit talking and grab onto me!" came Areia's muffled, commanding voice from the front.
Lizzy's wild mane of red hair shook like a flame as she bent over the outdoor fridge, clattering drinks and ceramic plates together. Her eyes, a striking shade of ruby that matched her brother's, twinkled with mischief.
"Arthur! Have you seen the beer I brought home yesterday?" she yelled toward the house. The large, sprawling bungalow looked festive, its perfectly manicured lawn now transformed into a party zone with glowing string lights, heavy-duty grills, and folding tables.
"No!" Arthur's voice drifted back from the depths of the living room.
"You drank it, didn't you?" Lizzy called back, a knowing smirk on her face. "At least be honest about it, you big baby!"
"Yeah... I did," came the muffled, guilty response from indoors.
"You owe me fifty bucks!" she yelled, laughing as she stood up.
She skipped over to the main grill, where a girl much taller than her was expertly flipping steaks. Croc stood there in a sleeveless denim jacket and ripped jeans, her short black hair swaying as she hummed along to the music pumping from a nearby speaker. An apron was tied tightly over her outfit, looking slightly out of place but totally necessary.
"Croc, how's the meat coming along?" Lizzy asked sweetly.
"Better than I hoped," Croc replied with a confident smile, the sizzle of the grill providing the perfect percussion.
"Thank God I tied Arthur to the couch," Lizzy laughed, leaning against a side table. "He wouldn't leave the grill alone if he were out here. I seriously wonder what it is with men and their obsession with fire and raw meat."
"Shula! I'm here!" A deep, familiar voice rang through the night.
Bora hopped over the perimeter fence with the grace of a mountain cat, landing softly on the grass while balancing a heavy pack of drinks in his hand.
"I didn't think you'd actually show up, you big slug," Lizzy grinned, walking over to greet him.
"Come on, cut me some slack," Bora responded with a faint shrug and a tired smile. "It's not every day my sister invites me to one of these things."
"Go help Croc with the grill," Lizzy sang, skipping happily back toward the house. "I'm going to go let Arthur off the leash!"
"Make sure no shenanigans happen!" Bora called after her. "You guys tend to go off the rails whenever there's a bed or a bottle involved!"
"I'll try!" Lizzy's melodious voice floated back as she vanished inside.
"Am I... late?"
Flynn stumbled through the front gate, doubled over and panting for breath. Bora stared at him like he was a walking squid, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline.
"Did you actually run here?" Bora asked, genuinely baffled. "That is so incredibly out of character for you."
"Shut up," Flynn groaned, straightening his shirt. In his casual gear—simple trousers, a plain T-shirt, and a pair of foam Crocs—he looked oddly approachable, far from the icy "celebrity" teacher he was at school.
"Have the kids not arrived yet?" Flynn asked, scanning the lawn for two specific troublemakers.
"Well, you know those two," Bora said, shrugging as he handed a drink to Flynn. "Apart, they're almost functional. But together? They're a nightmare waiting to happen. I've definitely got my work cut out for me this term."
Flynn chuckled, a rare, slow sound. "Yeah... you'll probably need something stronger than a crane to pry those two apart."
"Getting carried away Shula! Bora yelled towards the house.
The backyard was peaceful for about five seconds before the bungalow erupted.
A heavy crash echoed from the living room, followed by the distinct sound of porcelain shattering and a series of muffled, rhythmic grunts.
"Ouch!" Lizzy's voice shrieked from inside."My head.
"Arthur, no! Stop it right now!"
Bora didn't even flinch; he just leaned back, shaking his head with a long, weary sigh. "I can clearly see where Dan gets his spite from. It's definitely in the blood."
"Agreed," Flynn nodded solemnly, taking a cautious sip of his drink as he watched the front door.
A moment later, Lizzy marched out of the house. Her face was a shade of red that rivaled her hair, her eyes wide and flickering with leftover adrenaline. She looked like she'd just been through a wrestling match. With stiff, mechanical movements, she yanked her black shirt straight and brushed the dust off her jeans before stomping over to join Croc at the grill.
Arthur followed her out a second later, looking remarkably unfazed. He was a mountain of a man—towering at the same height as Croc and nearly as jacked as Bora. His tank top struggled to contain his shoulders, and his long black hair was pulled back into a surprisingly neat ponytail.
His golden eyes scanned the yard, locking onto Flynn. A slow, easy grin spread across his face as he walked over.
"Mr. Stick-in-the-Mud," Arthur chuckled, reaching out and nearly crushing Flynn's hand in a massive, heavy handshake. "Good to see you."
"Still got that it, eh, Arthur?" Flynn replied, managing a strained smile as he tried to keep his hand from going numb.
"Shut it, both of you!" Lizzy shrieked from the grill, her voice hitting a pitch that made the birds in the nearby trees scatter. She was still vibrating , her face flushed crimson from embarrassment as she flipped a burger with enough force to nearly launch it into the neighbor's yard.
Croc just tilted her head, watching Lizzy with a look of pure, silent curiosity, her spatula poised mid-air.
Your romantic passion is actually making me feel a little jealous," Flynn joked, leaning back against a wooden fence post.
"Jealous of what? Who would want to live with a red-haired tornado all day?" Arthur whispered, leaning in conspiratorially. "Honestly, she drains the life out of me." He didn't even have to look—he instinctively ducked as a hot, grease-slicked spatula whistled through the air exactly where his head had been a second ago.
"Don't you dare talk about that!" Lizzy yelled, her face reaching a new, impossible shade of pink.
"Nah, I think I'll yell it to the entire world!" Arthur grinned, his golden eyes flashing with mischief. "Let me get my speaker!" He bolted toward the house like a sprinter off the blocks.
"Hell no!" Lizzy screamed, launching herself after him. Within seconds, the bungalow was alive again with the sounds of heavy crashes, creative swearing, and the unmistakable rhythm of two people wrecking a living room like a pair of human bowling balls.
Amidst the chaos of the house, a low, guttural rumbling began to echo from the street. A sleek black motorcycle pulled into view, its engine purring before cutting out right in front of the gate. For a long moment, neither rider moved. Dan stayed plastered to Areia's back, his arms locked around her waist.
"Aren't you... going to let go of me?" Areia's voice came out muffled from inside her helmet, hiding the fact that her face was absolutely hearth-hot.
"Nah, I'm pretty comfy right here," Dan grinned, squeezing a little tighter just to be a menace.
"What?! Right now?!" Areia yelled in silent, flustered surprise. "Get off!"
They began a clumsy, seated wrestling match on the bike, tilting dangerously to one side. On the lawn, Flynn and Bora stood side-by-side, perfectly synchronized as they took identical sips of their beer while watching the struggle.
"See what I'm talking about?" Bora muttered, not taking his eyes off the gate.
"Yeah," Flynn added, his voice dry. "They really just need to kiss already and get it over with."
Finally, Dan hopped off the bike. He yanked his helmet off, shook out his dark, red-streaked hair, and struck a dramatic, hero-esque pose. Areia followed suit, dropping into a perfectly timed crouch right beside him.
"Together, we are the Protectors of Mevaik!" they both bellowed in unison, throwing their helmets into the air with triumphant flair.
"They are literally sharing a single brain cell," Croc muttered from the grill, shaking her head.
The "Protector" moment lasted exactly half a second before gravity took its revenge. Both helmets reached the peak of their arc and came crashing straight back down, landing with a pair of hollow clunks right on Dan and Areia's heads.
The heroic duo immediately dissolved into a mess of pained groans, both of them clutching their skulls and rubbing the sore spots before trudging onto the lawn to join the adults.
Arthur stepped back out onto the lawn, looking completely unbothered despite the carnage that had just occurred inside. Lizzy was perched triumphantly on his shoulders, her legs draped over his thick neck as she ran her fingers through his long, silky ponytail.
"It's so unfair," Lizzy groaned, tugging playfully on a strand of his dark hair. "How do you get the tameable, perfect hair while I—and your son—are stuck with this wild mess?"
Bora stared at them, his jaw practically unhinged. "I don't get it. Both of you just sprinted into that house like a pair of rabid animals, tumbling and fighting over a speaker. How did you come out looking like that?"
"What's wrong, Bora?" Lizzy asked, a perfectly matched, malicious grin spreading across both her and Arthur's faces. "I guess you just wouldn't get it since you're not married." She leaned down, planting a lingering, affectionate kiss on Arthur's forehead.
As she pulled back, her face flushed a soft pink, and her eyes finally landed on the guest sitting near the edge of the lawn.
"Hello, Miss Shula," Areia waved nervously from her chair, still rubbing the spot where her helmet had clocked her.
"Hey there, Croc!" Dan beamed, hopping over to the towering girl at the grill with enough energy to power a small city.
Croc stopped flipping meat for a second, her stoic gaze traveling from Dan's hoodie to Areia's, then back again. "What is with the matching clothes?" she asked, her voice flat but curious.
"I'm so glad you asked!" Areia said, standing up and marching toward the grill with a newfound dramatic flair.
"I represent Peace!" she began, striking a sharp, angular pose.
"And I represent Justice!" Dan added, sliding in behind her and pointing toward the moon.
"Together, we are the HEROES OF MEVAIK!" they bellowed in perfect, unsettling unison.
Croc just stood there, completely dumbfounded, the spatula hanging uselessly in her hand. "Your coordination is... honestly a little disturbing," she muttered.
"I think it's cute!" Lizzy chirped from her husband's shoulders as Arthur carried her toward the group.
What followed was a whirlwind of family chaos—quick hugs, loud laughter, and Lizzy nearly falling off Arthur's head as she reached down to squeeze Dan's cheeks.
"I thought you guys said you were the Protectors of Mevaik ten minutes ago?" Bora interjected, leaning against a table with a smirk.
"SAME THING!" Areia and Dan yelled back, their voices hitting the exact same note.
I think it's done," Croc announced from the grill, her voice steady as she began stacking the feast onto massive platters.
"Perfect!" Lizzy chirped. She didn't just climb down from Arthur's shoulders; she launched herself into the air, landing a flawless backflip on the grass before dropping into a deep, theatrical bow. The yard erupted in applause, though Flynn just blinked in surprise and Croc stood frozen, tongs in hand, looking like she'd just witnessed a glitch in the matrix.
For a few golden minutes, the only sound was the clinking of silverware and the blissful silence of people with their mouths full of hot steak. Well, almost everyone. Near the edge of the lawn, the quiet was punctured by the clack-clack-clack of wooden sticks as Dan and Areia "crossed swords" over a particularly juicy piece of brisket.
"Do those two ever stop? Seriously," Bora asked, his voice thick with genuine concern as he watched a stray stick nearly take out a garden gnome.
"It makes you wonder how they even function when they're apart," Flynn added, leaning back as he watched Areia successfully wrestle Dan into a headlock on the grass.
A few yards away, the "adults" were having a different kind of fun. Bora and Flynn watched in half-horrified awe as Arthur proceeded to chug empty beer cans like a man trying to set a world record, while Lizzy sat on the grass beside him, cheering him on with the energy of a professional cheerleader.
"I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. They all give off the exact same chaotic energy," Flynn noted, shaking his head.
"I hear ya," Bora nodded, taking a much more measured sip of his own drink.
Croc, who had finally abandoned the grill to sit near the two wrestling juniors, watched them for a long moment while sipping from a heavy mug. She waited for a lull in the grappling before dropping the bomb.
"Are you two dating, by any chance?" she asked, her voice blunt and devoid of teasing.
The world seemed to stop. Dan and Areia froze mid-tumble. They slowly untangled themselves, smoothed out their matching Mystery Robot hoodies, and sat cross-legged on the grass with unnervingly serious expressions.
"Define... 'dating,'" Dan asked, his voice dropping into a deep, pseudo-intellectual baritone as he stroked an imaginary beard.
"If she is referring to the chronological tracking of calendar days, I believe we are quite proficient at it," Areia responded in the same "important" tone, resting her chin on her palm with a scholarly nod. "But I would assume she means romantically, isn't that right, my esteemed colleague?"
"That is exactly right," Dan spoke, his eyes narrowing with mock intensity. "And if that is the case, what should be our response? Typically, in the cinematic arts, the protagonists scream 'No' in unison, but wouldn't that just serve to confirm the suspicion, my colleague?"
"Precisely! You catch my drift," Areia said, nodding so solemnly you'd think they were discussing nuclear physics. "Therefore, if that is the case..."
"We'll leave it to your imagination!" they finished in perfect, chilling unison, flashing identical mischievous grins.