Three days later.
The first light of dawn spilled through the curtains of Jay's small bedroom, painting the walls with a soft golden hue. Birds chirped outside, though their peaceful melody was abruptly interrupted by the thump-thump-thump of hurried footsteps pounding across the wooden floor.
"Jay! Stop running! You're going to demolish the house with those lightning feet of yours!" Jenn's voice rang from the kitchen, sharp and scolding as always.
"I don't want to be late, you know!" Jay called back, his words echoing down the hall as he dashed toward the bathroom.
Water gushed from the shower a moment later, followed by the faint sound of Jay humming an off-key tune—something that was definitely not helping Jenn's mood. She was already standing by the stove, flipping eggs with a practiced motion, her apron tied neatly around her waist. The smell of breakfast—eggs, toasted bread, and sizzling bacon—filled the air.
In the living room, their grandfather still slept in his recliner, one hand resting over his belly, the other dangling lazily off the armrest. His soft snores rose and fell like waves against the otherwise quiet morning.
Today was the first day of the new term at the Academy. For Jay, it wasn't just any normal school day—it was the day he'd officially begin training as an awakened, alongside others who might one day become heroes… or rivals.
The bathroom door creaked open, and Jay stepped out, steam following him like a personal cloud. His damp hair clung to his forehead, and his uniform was only half buttoned.
"You're hopeless," Jenn sighed, glancing up from the pan. "And tuck in your shirt before the principal thinks you crawled out of bed and ran straight here."
Jay ignored her lecture, sliding into a chair at the kitchen table. Jenn placed a plate in front of him and crossed her arms. "Eat slowly. The Academy isn't going to vanish if you chew like a normal human being."
But Jay wasn't listening. He grabbed his fork and began shoveling food into his mouth at a speed that could only be described as "life-threatening." In under a minute, his plate was nearly empty.
Jenn raised an eyebrow. "One day you're going to choke, and I'm not performing CPR."
Jay wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, stood up, and swung his bag over his shoulder. "Thanks for breakfast, sis! Gotta go!"
"At least say goodbye to Grandpa—"
Too late. Jay was already halfway to the front door. He grabbed the handle, swung it open—
BANG!
Pain bloomed in his forehead as something solid smacked into him. He stumbled back, clutching his head.
"Ow! What the—"
On the other side of the doorway stood Nathan, one hand raised mid-knock, the other holding a small paper bag. His expression was frozen in surprise, but his mouth quickly twisted into a grin.
"Good morning to you too, Jay. I was just about to knock when you decided to headbutt me."
Jay groaned. "Couldn't you have stood a little farther from the door?"
Nathan shrugged. "Couldn't you have opened it like a normal person?"
Jenn appeared in the hallway, hands on her hips. "If you two are done breaking each other's skulls, maybe you can actually leave before the Academy sends a search party."
Nathan leaned around Jay to wave. "Morning, Jenn!"
Jenn gave a curt nod, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Morning. And make sure he doesn't cause trouble today."
Nathan grinned wider. "No promises."
Jay rolled his eyes, squeezing past Nathan and stepping into the cool morning air. The streets were beginning to stir with life—shopkeepers unlocking their doors, carriages and small hover-bikes passing by, students in similar uniforms heading in the same direction.
Nathan fell into step beside him, swinging the paper bag lightly. "Brought some snacks for later. Figured we might need them after the opening ceremony."
Jay smirked. "You planning to eat in class again?"
"Of course," Nathan replied without hesitation. "It's tradition."
Jay couldn't help but laugh as they made their way toward the Academy gates, the sun climbing higher above the rooftops. For a brief moment, it felt like the world was just… normal.
But somewhere deep inside, both of them knew that in a place like the Academy, "normal" never lasted for long.
The Academy's towering gates loomed ahead, their polished steel glinting under the morning sun. Jay and Nathan stepped through side by side, joining the steady stream of students flooding into the courtyard.
The place was alive with energy—voices overlapping, footsteps echoing on the stone pathways, the occasional burst of laughter ringing out above the noise. First-years darted about nervously, clutching their schedules, while older students leaned casually against railings, scanning the crowd like they owned the place.
Jay adjusted his bag strap, scanning the rows of trees lining the walkways. "I didn't think there'd be this many people…"
Nathan smirked. "That's because you never think about anything other than training and sleeping."
Jay shot him a look. "And food."
"Ah, right," Nathan grinned, lifting the small paper bag he'd brought earlier. "Speaking of which, I still have snacks. Want some now or later?"
Jay's stomach growled loud enough to earn a glance from a passing student. "Now."
Nathan handed him a small, neatly wrapped bun. Jay tore into it without hesitation, the sweet smell of red bean filling spilling into the air. "Man… this is good. You should bring these every day."
"I could," Nathan said, "but then you'd start expecting them, and I like to keep you on your toes."
Jay gave him a flat look while chewing. "You're cruel."
They walked past a large fountain at the center of the courtyard, where groups of students were gathering. Some were taking photos, others comparing uniforms or talking about which instructors they hoped to get. Overhead, banners with the Academy's crest swayed gently in the breeze.
"So," Nathan began, "what's the first thing you're going to do once we're allowed in the training grounds? Personally, I'm thinking a little shadow duel."
Jay swallowed the last bite of his bun. "First thing I'm doing is finding the cafeteria. You know, priorities."
Nathan shook his head. "One day you're going to regret that mindset when someone challenges you right after lunch."
Before Jay could reply, a deep, resonant gong echoed across the courtyard. The sound rolled through the air, silencing conversations and turning every head toward the main building.
"That's our cue," Nathan said, straightening his posture.
Students began forming lines under the guidance of uniformed assistants. The flow of chatter turned into a low murmur, and the sense of excitement in the air sharpened into anticipation.
Jay stuffed the empty snack wrapper into his pocket and glanced at Nathan. "Guess the opening ceremony's about to start."
Nathan grinned. "And so it begins."
The two joined the crowd, stepping into a new chapter of their lives—one that neither of them could predict, but both knew would change everything.