The next morning felt painfully normal.
Students crowded the school gates, laughing, complaining about homework, half-asleep and dragging their feet toward classrooms. It was hard to believe that just yesterday, Aren had walked out of a sealed rift with a secret in his pocket.
He had barely stepped into the hallway when—
"Aren!"
Here we go.
Hina marched straight up to him, eyes sharp, backpack slung over one shoulder. She didn't even bother with a greeting.
"What was that yesterday?" she demanded. "One second everything's normal, then a rift appears, and you suddenly tell me to leave like you're my boss or something."
Aren kept walking.
Hina matched his pace effortlessly. "And then I hear on the news that the rift closed. Closed, Aren. Do you know how rare that is?"
No response.
She moved in front of him, walking backward now. "Did you do something? Did you know it was going to appear? Why did you push me away like that?"
Aren sidestepped her and continued down the hallway.
"H-hey!" she snapped. "Don't ignore me!"
Too late. He was already doing exactly that.
Hina clenched her fists. "You always do this! Something weird happens, you act mysterious for five minutes, and then you pretend I don't exist!"
Aren finally stopped at his classroom door. He looked at her, expression calm, unreadable.
"You were safe," he said simply.
And then he opened the door and walked in.
Hina stood there, stunned.
"…That's it?" she muttered. "That's all you're going to say?"
The bell rang, cutting her off.
As Aren took his seat by the window, he stared outside, eyes unfocused. The schoolyard looked peaceful. Ordinary. No rifts. No monsters. No keys pulsing in his pocket.
Hina slid into the seat behind him, still glaring. "This isn't over," she whispered. "I'm getting answers."
Aren didn't turn around.
Some things, he thought quietly, are better left unanswered.
The homeroom buzzed with noise long before the teacher arrived.
"Did you see the footage?" "They said it was a mid-depth rift!" "I heard the boss was taken down in minutes." "No way, that doesn't make sense."
Phones were out, screens tilted toward each other, replaying blurry clips of flashing lights and emergency vehicles. The news banner kept looping the same headline.
MID-DEPTH RIFT CLOSED — GOVERNMENT CONFIRMS SUCCESSFUL NEUTRALIZATION
Aren rested his chin on his hand, staring out the window like none of it concerned him.
Behind him, Hina leaned forward. "You're really just going to sit there?"
No answer.
At the front of the room, the classroom door slid open and their homeroom teacher walked in, rubbing his temples.
"Alright, settle down," he said. "Yes, I know everyone's talking about yesterday. No, I don't have insider information. And no, this is not an excuse to skip today's test."
Groans filled the room.
"But," the teacher continued, "what happened was serious. That rift appeared less than three kilometers from this school. You should all be grateful the Convent handled it quickly."
Handled it.
Aren's lips twitched, just barely.
One student raised a hand. "Sir, is it true a single hunter cleared it?"
The teacher hesitated. "That's… what the preliminary report suggests."
The room exploded.
"No way!" "A solo clear?" "Was it an A-tier?" "Probably S-tier, right?"
Hina's eyes snapped to Aren's back.
Aren didn't react.
The teacher cleared his throat loudly. "Enough. Whoever it was, they're a professional. Focus on your own lives."
As he turned to write on the board, Hina whispered sharply, "You hear that? Solo clear. And you just happened to be there."
Still nothing.
She clicked her tongue in frustration. "You made me leave. You knew it was dangerous. You always know things before they happen."
Aren adjusted his posture slightly, gaze still fixed outside.
That's the problem, he thought. I know too much.
At lunch, it got worse.
Groups crowded around tables, theories flying everywhere.
"I heard the hunter crushed the boss with pure force." "No, no, it was a rare Manifestation." "My cousin said the Convent's top people showed up personally."
Someone across the cafeteria said, "Imagine being that strong."
Aren stabbed his food quietly.
Hina sat across from him, arms crossed. "You don't even look surprised."
"I'm hungry," Aren said flatly.
She stared at him, then leaned back with a sigh. "One day, you're going to slip. And when you do, I'm going to be ready."
Aren finally glanced at her.
"…Eat your food," he said.
But even as school life carried on like nothing had changed, Aren could feel it.
The air was different.
People were talking. Watching. Wondering.
And somewhere beyond the school walls, forces far bigger than classrooms and rumors had already started paying attention to a C-tier student who shouldn't have mattered at all.
The bell rang, signaling the end of the day.
Chairs scraped. Bags zipped. The classroom slowly emptied, but Hina didn't move.
Aren did.
He stood, slung his bag over his shoulder, and headed for the door.
"Hina blocked his path."
"No," she said. "You're not leaving."
Aren sighed. "Move."
"Not until you tell me the truth," she shot back. "About yesterday. About the rift. About why you forced me to leave like I was some kind of burden."
Students nearby slowed, pretending not to listen. They absolutely were.
Aren tried to step around her.
Hina grabbed his sleeve.
That was the mistake.
"Why do you always do this?" she demanded, voice tight. "You shut me out every time something serious happens. You act like I'm stupid, like I can't handle anything!"
Aren stopped.
Slowly, he turned to face her.
"You want the truth?" he asked quietly.
Hina froze. She nodded. "Yes."
The hallway went silent.
Aren's grip tightened around his bag strap. "The truth is that if you had stayed yesterday, you would've died."
Hina's breath caught.
"You don't know that," she said, but her voice wavered.
"I do," Aren snapped.
Heads turned.
"You think that was some accident?" he continued, voice low but sharp. "You think I told you to leave because I felt like playing hero?"
Hina opened her mouth. Nothing came out.
"I told you to leave because I couldn't protect you and fight at the same time," Aren said. "Because one wrong move and you'd have been collateral."
Her grip loosened.
"You keep asking why I don't tell you things," he went on. "It's because knowing doesn't make you safer. It just puts you closer to danger."
"That's not fair," Hina whispered. "You don't get to decide that for me."
Aren laughed once. Bitter. "Someone has to."
The words hung heavy between them.
"I'm not ignoring you because I don't care," he said more quietly. "I'm ignoring you because I care too much."
Silence.
Hina stared at him, eyes shaking, pride and worry colliding in her chest. "Then stop carrying everything alone."
Aren looked away.
"I can't," he said. "Not this."
He stepped past her and walked down the hallway without looking back.
Hina stood there, heart pounding, watching him disappear.
For the first time, she realized something she hadn't wanted to admit.
Aren wasn't being mysterious.
He was being scared.
And whatever world he was stepping into… it wasn't one she could follow easily.
Aren didn't stop walking.
The hallway emptied behind him, footsteps fading until it was just the echo of his own shoes against the floor. He kept his eyes forward, jaw tight, like if he slowed down even a little, something inside him would crack.
You didn't have to say it like that.
He clenched his fist.
But he did. Because if he didn't draw a line now, she would keep getting closer. And that scared him more than any rift ever had.
Hina was the only one left.
The thought hit harder than he expected.
Everyone else had drifted away over the years. Friends who stopped calling. People who decided he was "too quiet" or "too weird" or just not worth the effort. He'd gotten used to that. Losing people was easy when you expected it.
But Hina never left.
She noticed when he was tired. When he skipped meals. When he went quiet for days. She asked questions even when he ignored them. She got angry, but she stayed.
And that was exactly the problem.
If something happens to her…
He didn't finish the thought.
Every day he ignored her on purpose. Walked ahead. Answered with one word. Pretended not to notice her waiting for him after school. Not because he didn't care.
Because he cared too much.
If I keep her at a distance, she stays safe. If she hates me, she stays alive.
It was a cruel kind of logic, but it was the only one he trusted.
The world he was stepping into didn't forgive mistakes. Rifts didn't hesitate. Monsters didn't spare people because they were kind or curious or stubborn enough to stay close.
Hina didn't belong in that world.
You're better off thinking I'm an idiot, he thought. Or a jerk. Anything but someone worth following.
Aren slowed to a stop near the school gates, breathing out slowly.
"She's the only one who still cares," he murmured under his breath.
And that was why he would keep ignoring her tomorrow.
And the day after that.
Until he was strong enough that "stay away" wasn't the only way he knew how to protect her.
Until then…
Being alone was the price he was willing to pay.
Hina stood near the classroom window long after Aren was gone.
Students passed by. Laughter echoed. Life moved on like nothing had happened.
She didn't.
He didn't yell because he was angry, she realized slowly. He yelled because he was scared.
The memory replayed in her head. His voice. Not loud. Not wild. Just sharp enough to hurt. Sharp enough to push her back.
If you had stayed yesterday, you would've died.
Her fingers curled around the strap of her bag.
Aren never lied. Not about things that mattered.
And suddenly, all the little things she'd ignored over the years lined up too neatly to be coincidence. The way he always walked ahead of her. The way he avoided crowds. How he always positioned himself between her and danger without saying a word.
He's not shutting me out because he doesn't care, she thought.
He's doing it because I'm the only one he still does care about.
That realization hurt more than his words.
Hina swallowed, eyes stinging. "Idiot," she whispered. "You don't get to decide that alone."
She didn't chase after him.
Not yet.
But she made a quiet promise to herself.
If you're trying to protect me… then I'll figure out what you're protecting me from.
Across the city, far from school halls and teenage rumors, Kael Veyran stood on the balcony of a high-rise building, arms crossed as the city stretched beneath him.
A holographic screen hovered beside him, displaying surveillance summaries and Convent reports.
Subject: Aren
Tier: C
Solo Mid-Depth Rift Exit
Behavioral Notes: Avoidant. Emotionally restrained. Protective tendencies toward civilian female (schoolmate).
Kael's lips curved slightly.
"So that's it," he murmured.
He dismissed the data with a flick of his fingers, eyes sharp, thoughtful.
"Power without ambition is rare," he said. "But power mixed with attachment…"
He glanced toward the distant direction of Aren's school.
"…that's either a fatal weakness," Kael continued, "or the reason someone surpasses every limit."
Kael had seen hunters break because they had nothing to fight for.
He had also seen them break because they had too much.
Aren, though?
"He's walking the edge," Kael said quietly. "And he doesn't even realize it yet."
The wind tugged at his coat as he turned away.
"Good," he added. "That means he's worth watching."
Aren stopped under a streetlight a few blocks away from school.
The sky had darkened, clouds drifting slowly overhead, the city lights flickering on one by one. He stood there for a moment, letting the noise of the day fade.
Then he pulled out his phone.
The screen lit up, illuminating his face. His thumb hovered over a contact he hadn't touched in a long time. No name. Just a number.
He hesitated.
This is where things change, he thought.
With a slow breath, Aren pressed call.
It rang once.
Twice.
Then—
"Yeah?" a voice answered on the other end. Calm. Familiar. Dangerous in a way Aren couldn't quite explain.
"It's me," Aren said. "I need a favor."
Silence followed. Not surprise. Not confusion. Just understanding.
"…So you finally decided," the voice replied.
Aren looked up at the sky. "I want to get stronger. Fast."
A low chuckle came through the speaker. "You sure you're ready for that?"
Aren's grip tightened around the phone.
"No," he said honestly. "But I don't have a choice anymore."
Another pause.
"Then meet me tomorrow," the voice said. "Same rules as before."
Aren closed his eyes. "I'll be there."
The call ended.
He slipped the phone back into his pocket, the key pulsing faintly beside it.
Aren started walking again, shadows stretching long behind him.
Whatever waited at the other end of that call…
It wasn't going to be easy.