Hakus 5th, 08:49 P.M

  — Ilyachius! What happened to you, honey!? — shouted Elisa, holding Ilya’s face still with both hands, like his head was about to fall off. — Are you okay…? Me and your father were so worried. You can’t just… disappear like that for three days and come back with a bunch of bandages around you!

  — I’m fine now, okay? Listen, Mom, at least the police found me, and one of their officers told me I’ll be kept under watch. — Ilya answered, the corners of his mouth lifting in a comforting gesture.

  Elisa stayed silent for about five seconds, slowly letting go of her son’s face and backing away to the kitchen counter. The room was enveloped in the comforting scent of vegetables frying while a steak browned in the pan. That would’ve normally eased the tension — if only the tension were coming from a bad grade on a test, and not from a near-death situation.

  There was a click from the front door, and after a few footsteps, a tall, athletic man appeared in the doorway. The figure had dark, messy hair, similar to Ilya’s in a way, and a large scar crossed his left cheek up to the bridge of his nose. He had a serious expression, like always. After all, Korrin Moren wasn’t known for playfulness.

  — Red Hooks? What made you cross the gate, Ilya? — said the man with a deeply calm voice. He was dressed in a long black coat. Korrin brought a hand up to adjust his glasses, then continued. — You know that place is already full of violent beggars. No money? Stabbed. What were you doing there?

  Ilya let out a sigh, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms. His mother sensed the heavy atmosphere and spoke before the boy could open his mouth.

  — I told him to go buy bread, hun’. It was a familiar route, and it wasn’t far past the gate, so the factions never step close enough to actually do any harm… — she looked down, gripping the edge of her sleeve. Her voice slowed considerably, like it was painful to speak. — I shouldn’t have sent him down there in the first place.

  — Mom, it’s not your—

  — Go to your room. And don’t forget to message your friends about any due homework, Ilya. — Korrin cut in, stepping aside from the door. — We’ll call you when dinner comes out.

  Ilya hesitated, but reluctantly let go of the counter and walked past the doorway, his feet practically dragging over the stairs as he went to his bedroom.

  Hakus 7th, 07:30 A.M

  Nero inspected Ilya’s bandages. The white material was wrapped around the dark-haired boy’s skin — at his wrists, forehead, torso, chest… basically every limb. After a long time of listening to scolding, Ilya was finally let go by the blonde boy.

  — Damn! Who did you even owe that much? I mean, I didn’t know you were beefing with the Red Hooks, dude. They really went all out… wait, were those from knives or guns?

  — Obviously knives. If these were all from guns, I’d be dead. Dumbass. — Ilya spoke with a hint of annoyance. He sat down on his chair, turning sideways to face Nero.

  Nero rolled his eyes ridiculously, then proceeded to take a seat across from Ilya, forcing him to turn in his chair again. Nero spun around to look at the other boy with some sort of pout.

  Pathetic, Ilya thought.

  — How long are those going to take to heal, though? Like… you’re pretty fucked up. Really. — Nero questioned, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand.

  — I’m not sure. But if I had to guess, at least over the next year.

  Nero stared at Ilya with a disappointed look.

  — No shit. Of course it’s not gonna be this year. We’re in Hakus, idiot — it’s not like you’ll heal in twenty-six days. — Nero paused, as if noticing something unusual. His eyes traveled over Ilya’s bandages, and he squinted. — Hold on. You had surgery, like… six days ago? And you’re apparently fine?

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Ilya paused, looking down at his shirt, where a faint pain still pulsed underneath it. Then he looked back at Nero and shrugged.

  — Not fine, of course, but… I think the stabbing probably wasn’t that deep.

  — Whatever you say, man…

  After a trilogy of boring classes, the bell finally rang for a small break. Ilya made his way toward the rooftop to meet up with Nero again. However, in the corner of his eye, a strangely unfamiliar figure passed by. Ilya turned his head and saw a girl entering his classroom.

  She had straight brown hair crossed by a braid. Amber eyes.

  Had that girl always been his classmate?

  Ilya decided to ignore the thought and proceeded toward the rooftop. The cold winter breeze hit his face as he arrived. Nero was already sitting on a bench, eating a stick of butter like it was a chocolate bar. He looked at Ilya and waved briefly.

  — Yo, sweet little Ilya. You usually arrive faster.

  — Don’t speak with your mouth full. And… are you eating that shit again? — Ilya stared at the butter stick, his eyes slowly filling with judgment. — I’m not showing up to the funeral if you die from cholesterol.

  Nero gasped mockingly, then ate another piece, chuckling.

  — It’s organic. Trust me.

  — Organic. Sure…

  It didn’t take long for the break to end. The remaining students on the rooftop walked down the stairs after the bell rang, while Ilya finished his small snack.

  The two boys went down to the second floor, then parted ways toward their classrooms.

  Entering 2-A, the biology teacher was already at the front board, so Ilya sneaked inside and claimed his seat in the back. He couldn’t help but notice how the same girl from before was now sitting right beside him.

  How great — the desk he chose because no one sat in the other chair was now shared.

  His deskmate caught his staring when she turned her head. Ilya almost died from shame, but she only smiled and waved before looking back at the board.

  What a weird-ass girl.

  The biology teacher cleared her throat, adjusting her glasses and the dark bangs that covered her forehead. Her hair was tied into a messy bun, and she didn’t look very old. She wrote her name on the board — Aya Koth — and turned to the students, hands behind her back.

  — Class, shut up! First of all, we’re revising reproduction today, and I better hear no giggles when I talk about sex.

  A wave of restrained chuckles rippled through the room.

  — Second of all, we do have a new classmate.

  Aya’s eyes moved toward the girl seated next to Ilya, and she smiled.

  — Welcome to 2-A, honey. Can you stand up and introduce yourself, or are you shy?

  The girl shook her head and stood up, ignoring the looks from everyone — including Ilya — and tapped her own cheek.

  — I didn’t think of an introduction… Well, my name is Angela Solace. I come from the High Ring, and… — she paused, looking up in thought. — Is there anything else to say?

  — Maybe what you’re aiming to be when you grow up? — the teacher suggested.

  — Oh, yeah! I wanna be a doctor. — Angela said with a smile, clasping her hands together.

  — How noble of you, Angela. You can sit down. You guys better treat her well — she’s a little angel. Okay, back to class!

  The rest of the lesson passed in a blur. A few hours later, the bell rang. A crowd of students could be already seen in the hallway through the window.

  Angela stood up, swung her backpack over her shoulder, and walked toward the door. Ilya felt something strange pulling at him — subtle, unsettling, like an ant following a pheromone trail.

  What a stupid analogy.

  Of course, he followed her.

  When he turned left down the hallway, the girl was already leaning against the wall, waiting. When her eyes met his, a cold sensation settled in his stomach.

  — So… were you stalking me, or what?

  Ilya almost fainted from embarrassment. He crossed his arms, fighting the heat rising to his face.

  — Obviously not. I just thought I’d seen you somewhere. Did you study at Cabophria when you were a kid?

  Angela tilted her head, thinking.

  — Cabophria…? Nope. You’re tweaking. — she said casually, pushing off the wall and putting her hands behind her back.

  Ilya narrowed his eyes.

  — I’ll ignore that last comment… — he sighed. — Forget it. Bye.

  — See ya, Ilya boy.

  She turned and walked away. Ilya watched her retreat — and then the realization hit him.

  — How did she know my name?