Suddenly, something wet splashed against my face.
I froze.
The Mongolian lizard–looking Asier had spat on me.
"Fuck no!" it barked, recoiling as if I were filthy.
Laughter erupted around us.
I glanced at my father. He had turned away—barely holding back a laugh.
My chest tightened.
This is humiliating.
I don't like this.
They're all staring. Laughing. Mocking.
"HEY! HEY! HEY!"
A voice cut through the noise. The Amaia stepped forward, wearing that same infuriatingly cheeky grin.
"Aww," he teased. "Your hands are trembling. Did I make daddy's boy sad?"
I looked down.
My hands were shaking.
"I-I-I—I mean, this is actually a good deal," I rushed out. "You'd get to see the world, y'know? You live underground and—"
"Only a fool would want to go outside during this time."
The words landed clean.
Ah.
He thinks I'm a fool.
…Can't blame him.
"You live a privileged life," the Amaia continued. "Why would you throw yourself into a battlefield and risk dying?"
Because I don't want to be seen as a spoiled brat.
Because I want to be capable of something.
Anything.
"I just wanna feel it," I said weakly. "Y'know… nothing special. Hahaha."
An awkward smile crept onto my face.
The Amaia stared at me.
Not judging.
Not mocking.
Dissecting.
It felt like he was peeling me open, seeing everything I tried so hard to hide. I gulped.
"I'll tell you what," he said, stepping closer. Then he began to circle me slowly.
"You tell me the real reason you want me to be your contractor. And if I'm satisfied with your answer…"
He leaned in.
"I'll be your contractor. Zezezz."
He cackled.
Easy, I told myself.
I just have to say it.
Because I want to prove I'm capable.
Because I want to be the next head of the Bureau.
But—
What am I capable of if I keep relying on others?
Why can't I do something myself—for once?
Why am I so… useless?
"HEY. HEY," the Amaia snapped. "Earth to earth—or however that saying goes."
He tilted his head.
"So. What do you say? Are you coming tonight or not?"
I swallowed.
"I will," I muttered.
"I CAN'T HEAAAR YOU," he mocked, cupping his ears.
"I—I WILL!"
"ZEZESZZZEEE!" the Amaia cackled.
Ben's & Friends — Local Diner
"You're an idiot," Adda said flatly, sipping her coffee while scrolling through her phone.
"I knew you wanted to kill yourself," she added, "but I thought you'd choose a less painful method."
"I didn't know you were a masochist," Katie chimed in. "Is it a new kink you picked up from one of those manhwas' you read?"
"I DON'T READ NSFW!" I snapped. "And number one—if I'm going to be the future head of the Bureau, it's only right I fight in this war!"
"This reminds me of those white guys who wanna be Black so bad," Adda muttered.
"WHAT DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING?" I yelled.
"Nothing," she said calmly. "Just seeing some similarities."
"…Anyway," I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Why are you even here? Aren't you supposed to be training?"
She smirked.
"Can't celebrate my friend making a terrible decision?"she grined
I clenched my fists, my face sizzling with anger.
…Then I sighed.
I slurped my milkshake in silence, pointedly ignoring Katie—until I felt her staring.
"What are you doing?" I asked, clearly annoyed.
She pulled out her phone.
"Nothing. Just taking your funeral photo."
I spat my drink everywhere.
"There," she said proudly, showing Adda the screen.
It was a picture of me mid–spit, eyes wide, dignity dead.
"I'm going to get you!" I shouted, jumping to my feet and chasing her around the diner.
The bell above the door jingled.
We froze.
A boy with blonde hair and striking purple eyes stepped inside, scanning the room like he owned it.
"Great," Adda muttered. "If it isn't the walking STD."
Raphael spotted us instantly and began striding over at an alarming speed.
"HELLOOO, Paschar," he sang. "Or should I say Mr. Paschar?" He grinned ear to ear.
"Paschar is fine," Adda answered.
"I didn't ask you, you walking corpse."
"Whatever…" Raphael waved her off, then turned to me. "So, Paschar—why are you here?"
"I could ask you the same thing," I said. "Raphael, why are you here?"
"Excellent question!" he said dramatically. "I heard you'd be joining the Bureau, and of course you'll need a team, and of course you'll need a healer, and of course—"
"Get to the point," Adda cut in.
He placed a hand on his chest.
"May I be your team healer?" Raphael said. "I'm one of the best. And honestly, who wouldn't want a fine face like mine around?"
He flipped his hair.
I swear I saw roses.
"You make me want to barf," Adda said without looking up from her phone.
"The dead don't talk," Raphael replied smoothly.
"Well, one is talking now," Adda said coldly, "and it's about to kick your ass."
Katie immediately grabbed her arm. "Adda—don't."
"Oh, come on," Raphael scoffed. "Try me. I'll just heal myself."
"Then let's see," Adda replied.
She drew her sword.
The air shuddered.
A thousand whispering spirits spilled out, curling around the blade like smoke given teeth. The diner lights flickered.
"STOP."
I pressed my fingers hard against my forehead.
"This is not the place to fight," I snapped. "And if you want to kill each other so badly, do it at the training center—not here."
I turned and headed for the door.
"Where are you going?" Katie called after me.
"I'm going home," I said without looking back. "I want to sleep."
The bell above the door rang as I left.