Chapter 2: Reality
Back in the academy yard, Shinra and Ren sat at their usual spot.
Shinra was already eating.
"Why aren't you eating, Ren?" he asked, mouth half-full.
Ren stared at his untouched lunch.
"How are you even eating right now?" he snapped, suddenly turning on him. "Aren't you stressed at all about the exam?!"
He clenched his fists.
"My dream of becoming the greatest Goshin in history is on the line!"
A brief silence followed.
"Nope," Shinra said simply. "Not stressed."
Ren looked at him like he was staring at something inhuman.
"You don't get it…" Ren muttered, barely audible.
He looked down.
His hands clenched at his sides, knuckles turning white.
"Ren—" Shinra started.
But Ren was already on his feet.
He turned away, blinking hard as tears of frustration welled in his eyes, and then he ran.
It's always the same, his thoughts spiraled as he pushed through the crowd.
Everyone looks down on me.
Even Shinra…
Is he only with me because he feels sorry for me?
Why does everyone look at me like I'm—
Brrriiiing—!
The bell cut his thoughts short.
Ren clenched his teeth as he headed back toward the classroom with the others.
Hmph. Whatever, he told himself.
I'll show them.
Just before they reached the classroom door—
"Ren!"
Shinra jogged up beside him. "Hey, wait up. Where did you run off to? Are you okay?"
Ren didn't slow.
"Yeah! I'm fine," he replied quickly — a little too quickly. His voice was louder than usual.
Shinra watched him for a moment, searching his face.
"…If you say so," he said at last.
But as they walked back inside, his gaze lingered on Ren's back.
Once everyone was seated, Regna stood at the front of the classroom.
Takami was beside him, smiling as always.
And next to them—
A boulder-sized toad.
"Alright, everyone, settle down," Regna began. "The first portion of the practical exam will measure the Rei level you possess. It is worth twenty-five percent of your overall result."
Murmurs rippled through the room.
"Oh, thank goodness… there's no way to mess that up."
"Isn't that unfair? Rei levels are something you're born with."
Before the murmurs could escalate—
"Quiet," the toad said.
The classroom froze.
For a solid three seconds, no one moved.
Even Shiro slowly turned away from the window.
"WHAT?!" someone shouted. "It can talk?!"
The room erupted.
"I've heard of talking animals, but aren't those supposed to be legendary?" Yuri asked, genuinely confused.
"Indeed they are," Regna replied, sounding pleased by the reaction. "Which should tell you how important this exam is."
"My name is Kimichi," the toad said impatiently. "To measure your Rei, you will come forward one by one and hold my tongue."
"Eww! No way!" several girls protested.
"Whoa! That's awesome!" Ren shouted, his earlier anxiety completely forgotten as he bounced in place. "I wanna try! I wanna try!"
Regna sighed, rubbing his temples. He looked exhausted.
"Okay, okay, Ren. You can go first," he said. "But keep your voice down."
"Why is the loser so eager to go first?" a few classmates snickered.
Ren ignored them completely.
With an eager grin, he stepped forward and reached for Kimichi's tongue.
"Here goes nothing…"
The moment his fingers made contact, nothing happened.
A heartbeat passed.
Then—
A bright orange light flared across Kimichi's tongue.
"Gah—!"
Kimichi recoiled violently, jerking his tongue back as his massive body lurched away.
"T-Twenty out of twenty!" Kimichi croaked. "Full marks!"
The classroom went dead silent.
Every student stared, eyes wide.
Even Shiro turned away from the window, his gaze locked on Ren.
"Whoa!" Ren shouted. "I got full marks? For real?!"
He pumped his fist into the air. "Take that!"
Shinra smiled.
Regna stared at Ren in disbelief—then slowly, a proud smile crept onto his face.
Takami said nothing.
His expression was unreadable.
"Is the toad glitching?" a few students murmured.
"No way Ren got full marks," another whispered.
They weren't stupid. They had seen it with their own eyes.
And yet—
Their entire lives, Ren had been the loser.
Someone like him wasn't supposed to shine.
Accepting his score meant accepting that they had been wrong all along.
"Enough," Regna said sharply, cutting through the chatter.
His gaze swept across the room until silence returned.
"We are not lining up all day. Form a line."
One by one, the students stepped forward to have their Rei measured.
The girls hesitated at first, wrinkling their noses in disgust, but with no other option, they followed suit.
"Yuri — fourteen out of twenty," the toad droned.
"Sami — fifteen."
The numbers continued—flat, ordinary, unremarkable.
Yet no one was really listening.
Everyone's thoughts were still fixed on Ren…
and the impossible benchmark he had just set.
Then it was Shiro's turn.
He stepped forward and placed his hand against the toad's tongue.
A purple light flared.
The toad froze.
Its eyes widened.
"…Twenty out of twenty," it said after a brief pause.
"Finally—someone else who got twenty," a few students murmured in relief.
Shinra frowned.
Why was his color different from Ren's?
Most of the others had been blue or green…
"Next," the toad said, its voice slipping back into bored monotony. "Shinra."
Shinra stepped forward and touched the tongue.
This time, the light was white.
The toad stiffened.
Its eyes widened.
"…Twenty out of twenty," it said—a clear surprise creeping into its voice.
No one reacted the way they had with Ren.
Still, three perfect scores remained etched in everyone's mind.
"Thank you, Kimichi, for measuring the Rei levels," Regna said, offering a slight bow.
The toad responded with a grumpy croak — then vanished in a sudden swirl of wind.
Regna turned back to the class.
"Alright, everyone. Now for the final phase of the exam."
He adjusted the papers in his hands.
"This phase will test Rei control. It is worth fifty percent of your overall result."
Ren looked like he was about to throw up.
Why this? Why now?
I'm done. I'm completely screwed.
Several students visibly relaxed.
Yuri, in particular, wore a small smirk — a rare sight.
Others looked confused.
Shinra raised a hand.
"Sensei," he asked, "why is this portion worth fifty percent, when the previous two were only worth twenty-five each?"
Regna didn't hesitate.
"Because none of it matters," he said evenly. "Not theory. Not raw Rei."
The room stilled.
"If you cannot put it into practice, it is meaningless. Rei control is what separates potential from ability."
"That's not fair!" Ren shouted, jumping to his feet, his finger shaking as he pointed at Regna.
"Ren," Regna said, his voice tight. A vein throbbed at his temple. "What about is not fair?"
"But I—"
"No," Regna cut in, exhaling slowly. "Listen."
He met Ren's gaze.
"You scored twenty percent on the theory exam. That translates to five percent overall."
Ren froze.
"You received full marks on the Rei measurement. That adds another twenty-five percent."
Regna set the papers down.
"That puts you at thirty percent. You need ten more to graduate."
His tone softened — just slightly.
"You have a real chance. Don't waste it."
Ren opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
His gaze dropped to the desk. His hands clenched at his sides, knuckles whitening.
What's the point?
No one listens anyway.
He stared at his roughened hands — memories of endless afternoons in the woods flashing through his mind.
Training.
Failing.
Again and again.
Shinra looked over at him, concern tightening into anger.
I was there, he thought. We trained together.
Seeing Ren dismissed as a slacker felt like an insult — not just to Ren, but to himself.
"Alright," Regna said, reclaiming control of the room. "The paper I've distributed works the same way as the practice sheets you've used in class."
He paused.
"The only difference is that these are more sensitive."
His gaze swept across the students.
"When I say begin, pour Rei into the paper. We'll see how long you can maintain control without damaging it."
"Begin," Regna said.
The classroom filled with a faint hiss as Rei flowed into paper.
Ten seconds passed.
—
Rrrrip—!
Ren's paper tore apart violently.
The room froze.
Regna glanced at him, his expression unreadable.
"Ten seconds," he said calmly. "Five out of thirty."
He marked his notes without another word.
At the corner of the room, unnoticed by everyone else—
Takami smiled.
Ren's face was drained of color.
He stared at the ruined paper, unable to even process what five out of thirty meant.
—
Rrrrip—!
Shinra's paper tore.
Twenty seconds.
Gasps rippled through the room.
—
Snap—!
Shiro's paper followed moments later.
Twenty-two seconds.
Regna's jaw tightened.
"Shinra — eight out of thirty. Shiro — nine."
Frustration edged his voice.
"Tch."
Shiro clenched his fist, jaw locked tight.
Shinra's hand tightened as well — but his eyes were on Ren.
Five out of thirty…
That's not even twenty percent.
Below forty.
The rest of the class continued the exam in stunned silence.
Ren was expected to fail.
Shinra and Shiro were not.
The rest of the exam passed in heavy silence.
Every so often, the quiet was torn apart by the sharp sound of paper ripping — followed by Regna calmly calling out a score.
Through it all, two students were trapped in their own thoughts.
Ren was sweating bullets, biting his nails raw.
Okay, five out of thirty… that's, uh—
GAH!
I don't know!
He squeezed his eyes shut.
Maybe it's a pass, right?
It's gotta be.
He nodded to himself desperately, clinging to the idea.
Shinra, meanwhile, gripped the edge of his desk, knuckles turning white.
I'm fine, he thought. Even without the last test, I'm over forty percent.
His jaw tightened.
But Ren…
Why is it always him?
Memories flooded his mind.
Memories of Ren and his training.
Memories of Ren trying his hardest.
Yet every single time. He never got his hard work acknowledged and it never changed the result at the end.
Is hard work useless …
Shinra clicked his tongue.
Tch. He laughs it off, he thought. Acts like it doesn't bother him.
But I know it does.
Why?
Shinra had asked himself that question a million times.
Why Ren?
Why him?
He had never found an answer.
And today, more than ever, the need to know felt unbearable.
The final paper tore.
Yuri had lasted the longest.
"Thirty out of thirty," Regna announced, pride clear in his voice. "Yuri Henma."
Sweat rolled down Yuri's forehead, but she was smiling.
Regna straightened.
"Now," he said, "I will call the names of those who have graduated and become Haze."
His gaze swept across the room.
"When your name is called, come forward and receive your Seer badge."
The classroom erupted with cheers.
"Shiro Nagi."
"Yuri Henma."
One by one, students stepped forward, each receiving a star-shaped badge with a fire symbol at its center — the mark of a Seer.
Eventually, Shinra's name was called.
He walked forward.
Took the badge.
Pinned it to his chest.
He barely registered any of it.
His eyes were on Ren.
Ren sat alone, biting his nails, staring ahead — waiting for his name.
The list continued.
And then it ended.
"That's all," Regna said. "Your parents are waiting in the academy courtyard. Go celebrate."
Silence.
"Uh… Regna-sensei?" Ren asked.
His voice wavered despite his effort to keep it steady.
"Did you… forget to call my name?"
Wide brown eyes searched Regna's face.
Hoping.
Needing there to be a mistake.
The room went dead silent.
Regna didn't answer right away.
For a brief moment, his gaze rested on Ren — longer than it needed to.
Then he looked away.
"Ren," he said quietly. "No. I didn't forget."
The pride from earlier was gone from his voice.
"You failed the exam. The passing requirement was forty percent."
He paused.
"…You scored thirty-nine."
Takami stepped forward. "Regna, he tries hard. He's a good kid. Perhaps we could make an exception. It's only one percent—"
Regna's jaw tightened.
"No."
The word wasn't sharp.
It was heavy.
"He can try again next year."
He turned away immediately after, already gathering the remaining papers.
"Regna-sensei… maybe we could let him try the potential test," Takami chimed in.
Silence followed.
"Takami," Regna began, his voice tight, "you can't be serious—"
"I'll do it," Ren said.
The words came out before he could second-guess them.
"What is the potential test?"
The entire class froze.
The potential test?
The question hung in the air—unspoken, but shared by everyone.
Takami smiled.
"You see, Ren-kun," he said smoothly, "the potential test is a bonus exam for students who just need a little push."
He folded his hands behind his back.
"As the name suggests, it evaluates one's potential as a Seer. Based on the results, the instructors may adjust a student's score to allow them to pass."
Every student was listening now.
Even Shiro.
Regna's jaw tightened.
"Takami," he said slowly, "you know the risks of that test—"
"What do I have to do?" Ren cut in again.
His voice shook—but his eyes didn't.
Takami's smile widened.
"It's simple," he said lightly. "All you have to do is perform a summoning technique. You will either summon a spirit animal, a spirit item… or nothing at all."
"Not that simple," Regna cut in, his voice tight with frustration.
He stepped forward.
"You can only attempt this summon once. If you fail—or if what you summon is unworthy—you are bound to it for the rest of your life."
His gaze locked onto Ren.
"That is why Seers train their Rei and spirit before ever attempting it."
The classroom gasped.
Shinra clenched his fist, jaw tightening—but he said nothing. He neither encouraged nor discourage Ren.
Ren stared at his hands.
Roughened. Scarred.
Memories of failure flooded back—endless training, endless disappointment.
He closed his eyes.
Then opened them.
"I'll do it," he said.
His voice was steady.
End of Chapter 2