I. Trost und Zuhause (Comfort and Home)
The phone rang only once before Suo answered. His voice was bright, but Himari caught the faint surprise beneath it.
Suo: "Himari? Hallo, wie geht's?" — "Himari? Hello, how are you?"
She forced her tone light, though the heaviness in her chest made every word drag. Himari: "Mir geht's gut, danke. Und dir? Ist alles in Ordnung?" — "I'm fine, thanks. And you? Is everything okay?"
There was a pause — too long, too careful. Suo's reply came slower than usual, as if he were testing the truth of her words. Suo: "Ja, alles gut hier. Du sagtest, du bist in Ordnung?" — "Yes, everything's good here. You said you're okay?"
Walls don't collapse in silence; they crack first. Himari's had been cracking all day, but she still clung to composure. Himari: "Ja, alles ist okay. Suo, ist Tante zu Hause?" — "Yes, everything is okay. Suo, is Aunt at home?"
That question startled him. She had never asked for his mother before. Suo: "Ja, meine Mutter ist zu Hause." — "Yes, my mother is at home."
Himari: "Könntest du mir ihre Nummer geben? Ich muss jetzt mit ihr sprechen." — "Could you give me her number? I need to speak with her now."
Suo hesitated. He knew her too well — this wasn't casual. Suo: "Himari, bist du in der Akademie?" — "Himari, are you at the Academy?"
Himari: "Nein, ich habe heute einen Tag frei genommen." — "No, I took a day off today."
His voice sharpened, worry breaking through the thin veil of politeness. Suo: "Warum? Ist wirklich alles in Ordnung? Bist du krank?" — "Why? Is everything really okay? Are you sick?"
She seized the excuse, though the lie tasted bitter. Himari: "Ja, ich bin krank. Ich muss Tante wegen Medizin fragen. Jetzt, bitte, die Nummer." — "Yes, I'm sick. I need to ask Aunt about medicine. Now, please, the number."
But Suo's tone shifted, firm now, protective. Suo: "Warte. Du bist im Wohnheim, oder? Ich komme dich abholen. Du solltest nach Hause kommen. Mamas Handy ist kaputt, sie kann nicht abheben. Warte dort, okay?" — "Wait. You're at the dorm, right? I'll come pick you up. You should come home. Mom's phone is broken; she can't answer. Wait there, okay?"
Before Himari could protest, another voice slipped into the line — calm, steady, and unmistakably caring.
Aunt: "Himari Liebling? Wir lassen dich nicht allein kommen. Suo wird dich abholen und nach Hause bringen. Du klingst müde, also bleib im Wohnheim und warte. Ich mache dir Suppe fertig." — "Himari darling? We won't let you come alone. Suo will pick you up and bring you home. You sound tired, so stay at the dorm and wait. I'll prepare some soup for you."
It wasn't a scolding, just simple certainty — the kind of care that left no room for argument. Himari felt her carefully built composure falter.
Himari: "Danke, Tante. Danke." — "Thank you, Aunt. Thank you."
When the line clicked off, she sat motionless, the phone heavy in her hand. Relief pressed against her ribs, but so did shame — how easily she had let herself be rescued. Yet in that moment, she couldn't deny it: this was the only family who truly loved her.
II. The Classroom and the Missing Book
DJ sighed. Waiting for Professor Arata's meeting to end felt impossible, so she slipped down the hall toward Advanced Magical Theory.
The classroom was already crowded, though the professor hadn't arrived. The hum of voices filled the air, a restless energy that made DJ's steps quicken. She offered a few bright greetings as she scanned the room, her smile practiced, her eyes searching.
Her gaze landed on the familiar cluster — Maishe and Kiro Reian, seated in their usual informal grouping. DJ walked over, trying to appear casual, though her eyes betrayed her focus: they locked on Kiro.
Sliding into the empty seat beside Maishe, she forced cheer into her tone. "Morning, everyone. Rough start to the week, huh?"
Kiro barely glanced up. His indifference was sharper than any reply. DJ leaned closer, lowering her voice so only he might hear. "Hey, Kiro… did you manage to submit the research analysis from the Archives last night?"
His eyes were cold, his answer clipped. "That's already submitted. Don't worry about it, DJ. Ask your friend."
It wasn't just dismissal; it was a wall. And DJ hated walls.
III. The Unspoken History
DJ frowned, unwilling to be shut down. Yesterday's image still haunted her — Kiro standing close to Himari, protective in a way that didn't fit his usual detachment.
She leaned in, voice low, insistent. "The way you stayed with her yesterday… you both disappeared last night. Do you… know each other?"
Kiro's stare was blank, carefully measured. He held her gaze a moment too long before answering. "Yeah. We know each other."
The words were simple, but they carried weight. DJ's breath caught, louder than she intended. "Really?!"
Her surprise sliced through the classroom chatter. Heads turned. Maishe's especially — her cool mask faltered, curiosity flashing sharp and dangerous. She didn't speak, but her silence was louder than any question.
IV. The Cover Story
Kiro's confirmation left DJ staring, her curiosity now stronger than caution. "How? How do you know her? If you're comfortable telling me."
Kiro sighed, the sound more weary than defensive. "We studied at the same school years ago."
DJ's confusion deepened. "But… she just transferred from Cyprus. She didn't seem to know you at all."
Kiro nodded easily, as if the contradiction didn't matter. "Maybe she doesn't remember. It was years ago. I came here in first year, before she transferred. It's just a school connection, nothing more."
DJ leaned back, unsettled. The explanation was simple, but it left too many shadows.
Maishe, silent until now, let her gaze linger on Kiro, then on DJ. Her lips curved — not quite a smile, not quite a frown. It was the kind of expression that promised she had heard enough, and that she would remember every word.I. Trost und Zuhause (Comfort and Home)
The phone rang only once before Suo answered. His voice was bright, but Himari caught the faint surprise beneath it.
Suo: "Himari? Hallo, wie geht's?" — "Himari? Hello, how are you?"
She forced her tone light, though the heaviness in her chest made every word drag. Himari: "Mir geht's gut, danke. Und dir? Ist alles in Ordnung?" — "I'm fine, thanks. And you? Is everything okay?"
There was a pause — too long, too careful. Suo's reply came slower than usual, as if he were testing the truth of her words. Suo: "Ja, alles gut hier. Du sagtest, du bist in Ordnung?" — "Yes, everything's good here. You said you're okay?"
Walls don't collapse in silence; they crack first. Himari's had been cracking all day, but she still clung to composure. Himari: "Ja, alles ist okay. Suo, ist Tante zu Hause?" — "Yes, everything is okay. Suo, is Aunt at home?"
That question startled him. She had never asked for his mother before. Suo: "Ja, meine Mutter ist zu Hause." — "Yes, my mother is at home."
Himari: "Könntest du mir ihre Nummer geben? Ich muss jetzt mit ihr sprechen." — "Could you give me her number? I need to speak with her now."
Suo hesitated. He knew her too well — this wasn't casual. Suo: "Himari, bist du in der Akademie?" — "Himari, are you at the Academy?"
Himari: "Nein, ich habe heute einen Tag frei genommen." — "No, I took a day off today."
His voice sharpened, worry breaking through the thin veil of politeness. Suo: "Warum? Ist wirklich alles in Ordnung? Bist du krank?" — "Why? Is everything really okay? Are you sick?"
She seized the excuse, though the lie tasted bitter. Himari: "Ja, ich bin krank. Ich muss Tante wegen Medizin fragen. Jetzt, bitte, die Nummer." — "Yes, I'm sick. I need to ask Aunt about medicine. Now, please, the number."
But Suo's tone shifted, firm now, protective. Suo: "Warte. Du bist im Wohnheim, oder? Ich komme dich abholen. Du solltest nach Hause kommen. Mamas Handy ist kaputt, sie kann nicht abheben. Warte dort, okay?" — "Wait. You're at the dorm, right? I'll come pick you up. You should come home. Mom's phone is broken; she can't answer. Wait there, okay?"
Before Himari could protest, another voice slipped into the line — calm, steady, and unmistakably caring.
Aunt: "Himari Liebling? Wir lassen dich nicht allein kommen. Suo wird dich abholen und nach Hause bringen. Du klingst müde, also bleib im Wohnheim und warte. Ich mache dir Suppe fertig." — "Himari darling? We won't let you come alone. Suo will pick you up and bring you home. You sound tired, so stay at the dorm and wait. I'll prepare some soup for you."
It wasn't a scolding, just simple certainty — the kind of care that left no room for argument. Himari felt her carefully built composure falter.
Himari: "Danke, Tante. Danke." — "Thank you, Aunt. Thank you."
When the line clicked off, she sat motionless, the phone heavy in her hand. Relief pressed against her ribs, but so did shame — how easily she had let herself be rescued. Yet in that moment, she couldn't deny it: this was the only family who truly loved her.
II. The Classroom and the Missing Book
DJ sighed. Waiting for Professor Arata's meeting to end felt impossible, so she slipped down the hall toward Advanced Magical Theory.
The classroom was already crowded, though the professor hadn't arrived. The hum of voices filled the air, a restless energy that made DJ's steps quicken. She offered a few bright greetings as she scanned the room, her smile practiced, her eyes searching.
Her gaze landed on the familiar cluster — Maishe and Kiro Reian, seated in their usual informal grouping. DJ walked over, trying to appear casual, though her eyes betrayed her focus: they locked on Kiro.
Sliding into the empty seat beside Maishe, she forced cheer into her tone. "Morning, everyone. Rough start to the week, huh?"
Kiro barely glanced up. His indifference was sharper than any reply. DJ leaned closer, lowering her voice so only he might hear. "Hey, Kiro… did you manage to submit the research analysis from the Archives last night?"
His eyes were cold, his answer clipped. "That's already submitted. Don't worry about it, DJ. Ask your friend."
It wasn't just dismissal; it was a wall. And DJ hated walls.
III. The Unspoken History
DJ frowned, unwilling to be shut down. Yesterday's image still haunted her — Kiro standing close to Himari, protective in a way that didn't fit his usual detachment.
She leaned in, voice low, insistent. "The way you stayed with her yesterday… you both disappeared last night. Do you… know each other?"
Kiro's stare was blank, carefully measured. He held her gaze a moment too long before answering. "Yeah. We know each other."
The words were simple, but they carried weight. DJ's breath caught, louder than she intended. "Really?!"
Her surprise sliced through the classroom chatter. Heads turned. Maishe's especially — her cool mask faltered, curiosity flashing sharp and dangerous. She didn't speak, but her silence was louder than any question.
IV. The Cover Story
Kiro's confirmation left DJ staring, her curiosity now stronger than caution. "How? How do you know her? If you're comfortable telling me."
Kiro sighed, the sound more weary than defensive. "We studied at the same school years ago."
DJ's confusion deepened. "But… she just transferred from Cyprus. She didn't seem to know you at all."
Kiro nodded easily, as if the contradiction didn't matter. "Maybe she doesn't remember. It was years ago. I came here in first year, before she transferred. It's just a school connection, nothing more."
DJ leaned back, unsettled. The explanation was simple, but it left too many shadows.
Maishe, silent until now, let her gaze linger on Kiro, then on DJ. Her lips curved — not quite a smile, not quite a frown. It was the kind of expression that promised she had heard enough, and that she would remember every word.I. Trost und Zuhause (Comfort and Home)
The phone rang only once before Suo answered. His voice was bright, but Himari caught the faint surprise beneath it.
Suo: "Himari? Hallo, wie geht's?" — "Himari? Hello, how are you?"
She forced her tone light, though the heaviness in her chest made every word drag. Himari: "Mir geht's gut, danke. Und dir? Ist alles in Ordnung?" — "I'm fine, thanks. And you? Is everything okay?"
There was a pause — too long, too careful. Suo's reply came slower than usual, as if he were testing the truth of her words. Suo: "Ja, alles gut hier. Du sagtest, du bist in Ordnung?" — "Yes, everything's good here. You said you're okay?"
Walls don't collapse in silence; they crack first. Himari's had been cracking all day, but she still clung to composure. Himari: "Ja, alles ist okay. Suo, ist Tante zu Hause?" — "Yes, everything is okay. Suo, is Aunt at home?"
That question startled him. She had never asked for his mother before. Suo: "Ja, meine Mutter ist zu Hause." — "Yes, my mother is at home."
Himari: "Könntest du mir ihre Nummer geben? Ich muss jetzt mit ihr sprechen." — "Could you give me her number? I need to speak with her now."
Suo hesitated. He knew her too well — this wasn't casual. Suo: "Himari, bist du in der Akademie?" — "Himari, are you at the Academy?"
Himari: "Nein, ich habe heute einen Tag frei genommen." — "No, I took a day off today."
His voice sharpened, worry breaking through the thin veil of politeness. Suo: "Warum? Ist wirklich alles in Ordnung? Bist du krank?" — "Why? Is everything really okay? Are you sick?"
She seized the excuse, though the lie tasted bitter. Himari: "Ja, ich bin krank. Ich muss Tante wegen Medizin fragen. Jetzt, bitte, die Nummer." — "Yes, I'm sick. I need to ask Aunt about medicine. Now, please, the number."
But Suo's tone shifted, firm now, protective. Suo: "Warte. Du bist im Wohnheim, oder? Ich komme dich abholen. Du solltest nach Hause kommen. Mamas Handy ist kaputt, sie kann nicht abheben. Warte dort, okay?" — "Wait. You're at the dorm, right? I'll come pick you up. You should come home. Mom's phone is broken; she can't answer. Wait there, okay?"
Before Himari could protest, another voice slipped into the line — calm, steady, and unmistakably caring.
Aunt: "Himari Liebling? Wir lassen dich nicht allein kommen. Suo wird dich abholen und nach Hause bringen. Du klingst müde, also bleib im Wohnheim und warte. Ich mache dir Suppe fertig." — "Himari darling? We won't let you come alone. Suo will pick you up and bring you home. You sound tired, so stay at the dorm and wait. I'll prepare some soup for you."
It wasn't a scolding, just simple certainty — the kind of care that left no room for argument. Himari felt her carefully built composure falter.
Himari: "Danke, Tante. Danke." — "Thank you, Aunt. Thank you."
When the line clicked off, she sat motionless, the phone heavy in her hand. Relief pressed against her ribs, but so did shame — how easily she had let herself be rescued. Yet in that moment, she couldn't deny it: this was the only family who truly loved her.
II. The Classroom and the Missing Book
DJ sighed. Waiting for Professor Arata's meeting to end felt impossible, so she slipped down the hall toward Advanced Magical Theory.
The classroom was already crowded, though the professor hadn't arrived. The hum of voices filled the air, a restless energy that made DJ's steps quicken. She offered a few bright greetings as she scanned the room, her smile practiced, her eyes searching.
Her gaze landed on the familiar cluster — Maishe and Kiro Reian, seated in their usual informal grouping. DJ walked over, trying to appear casual, though her eyes betrayed her focus: they locked on Kiro.
Sliding into the empty seat beside Maishe, she forced cheer into her tone. "Morning, everyone. Rough start to the week, huh?"
Kiro barely glanced up. His indifference was sharper than any reply. DJ leaned closer, lowering her voice so only he might hear. "Hey, Kiro… did you manage to submit the research analysis from the Archives last night?"
His eyes were cold, his answer clipped. "That's already submitted. Don't worry about it, DJ. Ask your friend."
It wasn't just dismissal; it was a wall. And DJ hated walls.
III. The Unspoken History
DJ frowned, unwilling to be shut down. Yesterday's image still haunted her — Kiro standing close to Himari, protective in a way that didn't fit his usual detachment.
She leaned in, voice low, insistent. "The way you stayed with her yesterday… you both disappeared last night. Do you… know each other?"
Kiro's stare was blank, carefully measured. He held her gaze a moment too long before answering. "Yeah. We know each other."
The words were simple, but they carried weight. DJ's breath caught, louder than she intended. "Really?!"
Her surprise sliced through the classroom chatter. Heads turned. Maishe's especially — her cool mask faltered, curiosity flashing sharp and dangerous. She didn't speak, but her silence was louder than any question.
IV. The Cover Story
Kiro's confirmation left DJ staring, her curiosity now stronger than caution. "How? How do you know her? If you're comfortable telling me."
Kiro sighed, the sound more weary than defensive. "We studied at the same school years ago."
DJ's confusion deepened. "But… she just transferred from Cyprus. She didn't seem to know you at all."
Kiro nodded easily, as if the contradiction didn't matter. "Maybe she doesn't remember. It was years ago. I came here in first year, before she transferred. It's just a school connection, nothing more."
DJ leaned back, unsettled. The explanation was simple, but it left too many shadows.
Maishe, silent until now, let her gaze linger on Kiro, then on DJ. Her lips curved — not quite a smile, not quite a frown. It was the kind of expression that promised she had heard enough, and that she would remember every word.I. Trost und Zuhause (Comfort and Home)
The phone rang only once before Suo answered. His voice was bright, but Himari caught the faint surprise beneath it.
Suo: "Himari? Hallo, wie geht's?" — "Himari? Hello, how are you?"
She forced her tone light, though the heaviness in her chest made every word drag. Himari: "Mir geht's gut, danke. Und dir? Ist alles in Ordnung?" — "I'm fine, thanks. And you? Is everything okay?"
There was a pause — too long, too careful. Suo's reply came slower than usual, as if he were testing the truth of her words. Suo: "Ja, alles gut hier. Du sagtest, du bist in Ordnung?" — "Yes, everything's good here. You said you're okay?"
Walls don't collapse in silence; they crack first. Himari's had been cracking all day, but she still clung to composure. Himari: "Ja, alles ist okay. Suo, ist Tante zu Hause?" — "Yes, everything is okay. Suo, is Aunt at home?"
That question startled him. She had never asked for his mother before. Suo: "Ja, meine Mutter ist zu Hause." — "Yes, my mother is at home."
Himari: "Könntest du mir ihre Nummer geben? Ich muss jetzt mit ihr sprechen." — "Could you give me her number? I need to speak with her now."
Suo hesitated. He knew her too well — this wasn't casual. Suo: "Himari, bist du in der Akademie?" — "Himari, are you at the Academy?"
Himari: "Nein, ich habe heute einen Tag frei genommen." — "No, I took a day off today."
His voice sharpened, worry breaking through the thin veil of politeness. Suo: "Warum? Ist wirklich alles in Ordnung? Bist du krank?" — "Why? Is everything really okay? Are you sick?"
She seized the excuse, though the lie tasted bitter. Himari: "Ja, ich bin krank. Ich muss Tante wegen Medizin fragen. Jetzt, bitte, die Nummer." — "Yes, I'm sick. I need to ask Aunt about medicine. Now, please, the number."
But Suo's tone shifted, firm now, protective. Suo: "Warte. Du bist im Wohnheim, oder? Ich komme dich abholen. Du solltest nach Hause kommen. Mamas Handy ist kaputt, sie kann nicht abheben. Warte dort, okay?" — "Wait. You're at the dorm, right? I'll come pick you up. You should come home. Mom's phone is broken; she can't answer. Wait there, okay?"
Before Himari could protest, another voice slipped into the line — calm, steady, and unmistakably caring.
Aunt: "Himari Liebling? Wir lassen dich nicht allein kommen. Suo wird dich abholen und nach Hause bringen. Du klingst müde, also bleib im Wohnheim und warte. Ich mache dir Suppe fertig." — "Himari darling? We won't let you come alone. Suo will pick you up and bring you home. You sound tired, so stay at the dorm and wait. I'll prepare some soup for you."
It wasn't a scolding, just simple certainty — the kind of care that left no room for argument. Himari felt her carefully built composure falter.
Himari: "Danke, Tante. Danke." — "Thank you, Aunt. Thank you."
When the line clicked off, she sat motionless, the phone heavy in her hand. Relief pressed against her ribs, but so did shame — how easily she had let herself be rescued. Yet in that moment, she couldn't deny it: this was the only family who truly loved her.
II. The Classroom and the Missing Book
DJ sighed. Waiting for Professor Arata's meeting to end felt impossible, so she slipped down the hall toward Advanced Magical Theory.
The classroom was already crowded, though the professor hadn't arrived. The hum of voices filled the air, a restless energy that made DJ's steps quicken. She offered a few bright greetings as she scanned the room, her smile practiced, her eyes searching.
Her gaze landed on the familiar cluster — Maishe and Kiro Reian, seated in their usual informal grouping. DJ walked over, trying to appear casual, though her eyes betrayed her focus: they locked on Kiro.
Sliding into the empty seat beside Maishe, she forced cheer into her tone. "Morning, everyone. Rough start to the week, huh?"
Kiro barely glanced up. His indifference was sharper than any reply. DJ leaned closer, lowering her voice so only he might hear. "Hey, Kiro… did you manage to submit the research analysis from the Archives last night?"
His eyes were cold, his answer clipped. "That's already submitted. Don't worry about it, DJ. Ask your friend."
It wasn't just dismissal; it was a wall. And DJ hated walls.
III. The Unspoken History
DJ frowned, unwilling to be shut down. Yesterday's image still haunted her — Kiro standing close to Himari, protective in a way that didn't fit his usual detachment.
She leaned in, voice low, insistent. "The way you stayed with her yesterday… you both disappeared last night. Do you… know each other?"
Kiro's stare was blank, carefully measured. He held her gaze a moment too long before answering. "Yeah. We know each other."
The words were simple, but they carried weight. DJ's breath caught, louder than she intended. "Really?!"
Her surprise sliced through the classroom chatter. Heads turned. Maishe's especially — her cool mask faltered, curiosity flashing sharp and dangerous. She didn't speak, but her silence was louder than any question.
IV. The Cover Story
Kiro's confirmation left DJ staring, her curiosity now stronger than caution. "How? How do you know her? If you're comfortable telling me."
Kiro sighed, the sound more weary than defensive. "We studied at the same school years ago."
DJ's confusion deepened. "But… she just transferred from Cyprus. She didn't seem to know you at all."
Kiro nodded easily, as if the contradiction didn't matter. "Maybe she doesn't remember. It was years ago. I came here in first year, before she transferred. It's just a school connection, nothing more."
DJ leaned back, unsettled. The explanation was simple, but it left too many shadows.
Maishe, silent until now, let her gaze linger on Kiro, then on DJ. Her lips curved — not quite a smile, not quite a frown. It was the kind of expression that promised she had heard enough, and that she would remember every word.I. Trost und Zuhause (Comfort and Home)
The phone rang only once before Suo answered. His voice was bright, but Himari caught the faint surprise beneath it.
Suo: "Himari? Hallo, wie geht's?" — "Himari? Hello, how are you?"
She forced her tone light, though the heaviness in her chest made every word drag. Himari: "Mir geht's gut, danke. Und dir? Ist alles in Ordnung?" — "I'm fine, thanks. And you? Is everything okay?"
There was a pause — too long, too careful. Suo's reply came slower than usual, as if he were testing the truth of her words. Suo: "Ja, alles gut hier. Du sagtest, du bist in Ordnung?" — "Yes, everything's good here. You said you're okay?"
Walls don't collapse in silence; they crack first. Himari's had been cracking all day, but she still clung to composure. Himari: "Ja, alles ist okay. Suo, ist Tante zu Hause?" — "Yes, everything is okay. Suo, is Aunt at home?"
That question startled him. She had never asked for his mother before. Suo: "Ja, meine Mutter ist zu Hause." — "Yes, my mother is at home."
Himari: "Könntest du mir ihre Nummer geben? Ich muss jetzt mit ihr sprechen." — "Could you give me her number? I need to speak with her now."
Suo hesitated. He knew her too well — this wasn't casual. Suo: "Himari, bist du in der Akademie?" — "Himari, are you at the Academy?"
Himari: "Nein, ich habe heute einen Tag frei genommen." — "No, I took a day off today."
His voice sharpened, worry breaking through the thin veil of politeness. Suo: "Warum? Ist wirklich alles in Ordnung? Bist du krank?" — "Why? Is everything really okay? Are you sick?"
She seized the excuse, though the lie tasted bitter. Himari: "Ja, ich bin krank. Ich muss Tante wegen Medizin fragen. Jetzt, bitte, die Nummer." — "Yes, I'm sick. I need to ask Aunt about medicine. Now, please, the number."
But Suo's tone shifted, firm now, protective. Suo: "Warte. Du bist im Wohnheim, oder? Ich komme dich abholen. Du solltest nach Hause kommen. Mamas Handy ist kaputt, sie kann nicht abheben. Warte dort, okay?" — "Wait. You're at the dorm, right? I'll come pick you up. You should come home. Mom's phone is broken; she can't answer. Wait there, okay?"
Before Himari could protest, another voice slipped into the line — calm, steady, and unmistakably caring.
Aunt: "Himari Liebling? Wir lassen dich nicht allein kommen. Suo wird dich abholen und nach Hause bringen. Du klingst müde, also bleib im Wohnheim und warte. Ich mache dir Suppe fertig." — "Himari darling? We won't let you come alone. Suo will pick you up and bring you home. You sound tired, so stay at the dorm and wait. I'll prepare some soup for you."
It wasn't a scolding, just simple certainty — the kind of care that left no room for argument. Himari felt her carefully built composure falter.
Himari: "Danke, Tante. Danke." — "Thank you, Aunt. Thank you."
When the line clicked off, she sat motionless, the phone heavy in her hand. Relief pressed against her ribs, but so did shame — how easily she had let herself be rescued. Yet in that moment, she couldn't deny it: this was the only family who truly loved her.
II. The Classroom and the Missing Book
DJ sighed. Waiting for Professor Arata's meeting to end felt impossible, so she slipped down the hall toward Advanced Magical Theory.
The classroom was already crowded, though the professor hadn't arrived. The hum of voices filled the air, a restless energy that made DJ's steps quicken. She offered a few bright greetings as she scanned the room, her smile practiced, her eyes searching.
Her gaze landed on the familiar cluster — Maishe and Kiro Reian, seated in their usual informal grouping. DJ walked over, trying to appear casual, though her eyes betrayed her focus: they locked on Kiro.
Sliding into the empty seat beside Maishe, she forced cheer into her tone. "Morning, everyone. Rough start to the week, huh?"
Kiro barely glanced up. His indifference was sharper than any reply. DJ leaned closer, lowering her voice so only he might hear. "Hey, Kiro… did you manage to submit the research analysis from the Archives last night?"
His eyes were cold, his answer clipped. "That's already submitted. Don't worry about it, DJ. Ask your friend."
It wasn't just dismissal; it was a wall. And DJ hated walls.
III. The Unspoken History
DJ frowned, unwilling to be shut down. Yesterday's image still haunted her — Kiro standing close to Himari, protective in a way that didn't fit his usual detachment.
She leaned in, voice low, insistent. "The way you stayed with her yesterday… you both disappeared last night. Do you… know each other?"
Kiro's stare was blank, carefully measured. He held her gaze a moment too long before answering. "Yeah. We know each other."
The words were simple, but they carried weight. DJ's breath caught, louder than she intended. "Really?!"
Her surprise sliced through the classroom chatter. Heads turned. Maishe's especially — her cool mask faltered, curiosity flashing sharp and dangerous. She didn't speak, but her silence was louder than any question.
IV. The Cover Story
Kiro's confirmation left DJ staring, her curiosity now stronger than caution. "How? How do you know her? If you're comfortable telling me."
Kiro sighed, the sound more weary than defensive. "We studied at the same school years ago."
DJ's confusion deepened. "But… she just transferred from Cyprus. She didn't seem to know you at all."
Kiro nodded easily, as if the contradiction didn't matter. "Maybe she doesn't remember. It was years ago. I came here in first year, before she transferred. It's just a school connection, nothing more."
DJ leaned back, unsettled. The explanation was simple, but it left too many shadows.
Maishe, silent until now, let her gaze linger on Kiro, then on DJ. Her lips curved — not quite a smile, not quite a frown. It was the kind of expression that promised she had heard enough, and that she would remember every word.