The corridors of the academy stretched long and echoing as Mika led the way, his usual silence filling the space between them. Kuro followed just behind, still thinking about the smile Mika had shown him earlier. His chest tightened at the memory, but he shook it off before Mika could notice.
[If you keep staring at him like that, Kuro, people are going to think you're some lovesick idiot,] Elvastia muttered in his head. [Not that they'd be wrong.]
{I wasn't staring. I was just… thinking...about what's happening to me...like I've seen him smile many times but why do I feel like this after seeing him smile today...?}
[For f***sakes you're hopeless.]
Kuro bit the inside of his cheek to hide a smile. "So," he said softly, "Monster Philosophy. Do you think it'll be better than history?"
"Anything's better than history," Mika replied flatly. His gaze flicked toward Kuro, sharp as always, but it softened for half a second before returning forward. "At least this one matters."
When they entered the classroom, it was already half full. Murmurs ran through the students, though this time the eyes that turned toward them weren't filled with fear alone—they were curious, too. Still, some shrank back when Mika passed.
[Oh, look at that. They're still scared s***less of him. Good. Means they've got some survival instinct left.]
{They shouldn't be scared of him}
[They should be scared of everyone, Kuro. That's how you stay alive. You trust too damn easily, and it's going to get you f***** killed one day]
{You sound worried about me.}
[I'm worried about being stuck in your skull if you end up dead. There's a difference. Like how f***** stu-]
{sure..}
[ARE YOU F**** ASS KIDDING ME....I thought if I didn't say that word for some time I would be able to say it...f***** hell.]
Kuro sighed inwardly and sat with Mika at the back again.
The professor arrived—a tall, hawk-eyed man with streaks of silver in his hair. He clapped his hands once, sharp enough to silence the room. "Monster Philosophy," he announced. "The study of the thinking, behavior, and culture of the beings that share this world with us. Today, we begin with goblins."
The word alone was enough to stir groans across the room.
"Goblins," the professor continued, "are often dismissed as savage nuisances. And while their tribes are violent, do not underestimate their cunning. They value survival above all else. What does that teach us about them?"
Hands shot up.
[They're little bastards, that's what they are,] Elvastia cut in. [Filthy green nightmares with voices like broken pans. Kill on sight—that's all you need to know.]
(That's cruel, also I just realized you can say another swear word.)
(It's true. Trust me, they'll bite your fingers off before you can say 'peace offering.' But OH YEAH, ANOTHER WORD HEHEHEHEHEH)
"Savage pests," Mika muttered, leaning back in his chair. "But dangerous in groups."
Kuro glanced at him, startled. It sounded almost like Mika had answered Elvastia directly.
Next came fairies. Then the professor's tone dropped lower. "Demons," he said, and the class stiffened. "Beings of immense power and appetite. They thrive on conflict and chaos. Tell me—what lesson do they embody?"
"Strength," someone answered.
"Pride," another muttered.
[Arrogance, more like. Demons are walking disasters with horns. Always so sure they're the top dogs until someone smarter guts them.]
{You've fought them too? I thought you never even had a human form...}
[Fought them? I've killed more demons than you've had conversations, Kuro. And let me tell you—they deserve every blade that finds their necks. Also, I had a life before having to be inside of you...wait that sounds weird...]
Mika shifted beside him, his gaze flicking subtly toward Kuro, a shadow crossing his features. "Demons are reckless. They die because they don't know when to stop." His words sounded sharp—too sharp, almost like he'd heard Elvastia's venom and was responding. But there was also a tint of bitterness in his words.
Kuro's chest tightened. He glanced at Mika but said nothing.
"And lastly for today," the professor said, his eyes sweeping the class, "elves."
Whispers erupted immediately. Several heads turned toward Kuro, their gazes sharp with curiosity.
"Elves," the professor went on, "are long-lived. Scholars, healers, warriors, known for their beauty. They value balance, tradition, and knowledge above all. But do not mistake longevity for wisdom. Even elves are flawed." His eyes, deliberate, flicked to Kuro.
Kuro swallowed but lifted his chin, meeting the look calmly. "Flawed, yes," he said softly, "but we learn from those flaws."
[Here we go. Mr. Elf making speeches. Don't blush, Kuro. They'll eat you alive if you look weak. Many people don't like elves, that's why they are used as slaves.)
{I'm not blushing...}
[You are. You're practically glowing f****** red, might as well turn into a tomato.)
Mika let out a small, quiet sound—barely audible. It could've been a scoff. But his eyes, when Kuro glanced, were softer than before. Almost approving.
The professor nodded. "Good. Philosophy is not about answers, but about questions. Remember that."
The bell rang, ending class.
Students gathered their things quickly, some whispering about demons, others glancing curiously at Kuro. Mika stood, stretching as if he hadn't listened at all.
"See?" he said, voice calm but edged. "This class has value. History never will." His gaze flicked to Kuro again, just a fraction longer than necessary.
[Oh, fantastic. Now he's brooding and staring. This'll end well. Don't trust that smile, Kuro.]
(You don't trust anyone. And we can trust Mika, he's special.}
[Damn right I don't. Someone has to keep you alive. And of course, you find him special...f***** hell, Kuro, you're gonna be the death of me...]
This time, Kuro felt warmth beneath the sarcasm. And when Mika's hand brushed his shoulder on the way out—subtle, quick, but deliberate—Kuro couldn't help but wonder if Mika had heard more than just his words all along.