Lunch at House Cronos was never crowded.

  Unlike the other houses, students didn’t enroll in Cronos by choice. They were transferred there after disciplinary hearings, violent incidents, reckless magic usage, or behavior deemed “dangerous.” Cronos was where Arcane Academy sent its problems.

  Some stayed. Some earned their way back.

  Most didn’t last long enough to settle in.

  That was why the cafeteria, despite being large and open behind the main building, felt strangely empty.

  Risu carried her tray across the courtyard and sat at the long wooden table where Taren and Kaga were already eating.

  She studied the food in front of her with open skepticism.

  “I’m not picky,” she said, poking something with her fork. “But even for the delinquent house… this is… ambitious?”

  “House of the unhinged,” Taren corrected without looking up. “Delinquent sounds organized.”

  “It’s terrible,” Kaga said bluntly. “That’s why I cook.”

  She opened a neatly prepared lunchbox that looked far superior to anything served that day.

  “You should cook for all of us,” Taren added.

  “You should pay for ingredients then.”

  A tray slid onto the bench beside Risu.

  Tenshi dropped into the seat with casual confidence. Haruka took the spot on Risu’s other side, posture straight, expression unreadable.

  Risu paused.

  Two weeks.

  Two weeks since her transfer.

  And somehow they had decided she was one of them.

  Tenshi leaned slightly closer.

  “Why are you looking at us like that?” he asked. “Any friend of Taren is a friend of mine.”

  “I don’t remember befriending Taren,” she replied, turning toward him.

  “That simplifies things,” Haruka said coolly. “Then you’re free to leave.”

  Kaga sighed. “Don’t start. I like having another unusual case around.”

  “Unusual?” Risu raised a brow.

  “Oh right,” Tenshi said, grinning. “We never explained.”

  “Kaga isn’t here because she messed up,” Taren said, finally setting down his fork. “Her older brother, Ryuu did. In his first year. Big one.”

  Haruka continued.

  “When she enrolled, the Academy transferred her here so she could stay with him. He’s her only family.”

  Risu followed their gaze.

  A lone student sat on a bench near the field. Messy uniform. Long black hair blowing in the wind. He bit into an apple with a permanent scowl carved into his face.

  Taren tilted his head.

  “Wow. That’s such a textbook anime tough-guy introduction.”

  Laughter broke out.

  Risu laughed too—

  And caught herself.

  When did that start feeling natural?

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  She was here for training. For observation. For evaluation.

  Cronos students were supposed to be volatile, unstable, dangerous.

  Yet these four had simply… included her.

  Lunch continued lightly. Tenshi made conversation effortless. Haruka watched carefully. Taren added comments that could have been deflection yet now they felt more like teasing.

  And for the first time, Risu found herself enjoying it.

  The next afternoon, with a rest day ahead, Risu decided to patrol the outer paths of Cronos’ campus.

  Officially: precaution.

  Unofficially: Taren had been leaving campus frequently.

  She spotted him exiting the dormitory, walking toward the forest path with casual ease.

  She followed.

  Silent.

  Measured.

  Through trees.

  Out of campus.

  Into the shopping district as dusk painted the sky.

  Neon signs flickered on one by one. The crowd thickened.

  Taren moved through it effortlessly.

  Then he turned a corner and vanished.

  Risu stopped abruptly.

  She scanned the crowd.

  Impossible.

  Unless—

  A narrow alley.

  She stepped into it.

  City noise dulled behind brick walls. The alley opened into a dim space between buildings.

  Footsteps approached.

  Not Taren’s.

  Four men emerged, eyes scanning her uniform.

  Arcane Academy. Money. Opportunity.

  They circled her.

  “Don’t make this difficult.”

  “Hand over everything.”

  “Jewelry too.”

  Risu shifted her weight calmly.

  “I won’t fall for cheap intimidation.”

  One of them narrowed his eyes.

  “She’s academy. Probably high-grade. Wealthy.”

  Another smirked.

  “Ransom’s better.”

  A voice echoed from the alley entrance.

  “That assumes you can capture her.”

  Taren stepped into view.

  Hands in pockets.

  Relaxed.

  The men scowled.

  “Stay out of this, kid.”

  “This isn’t your business.”

  “It isn’t,” Taren agreed. “But if you take another step toward her… you’ll make it my business.”

  “I’m not a damsel in distress,” Risu snapped. “I can handle them.”

  “Sure you can,” one thug sneered. “Ready up.”

  Energy gathered around their fists. Rough, unstable magic layered over muscle.

  Protocol was clear.

  Magic justified magic.

  Orange light ignited around Risu’s body, forming a compact aura that clung close to her frame. From the base of her spine, energy surged outward and shaped itself into a large, voluminous squirrel tail—thick, luminous, unmistakable. It moved with weight and balance, powerful enough to strike.

  The men lunged.

  Their enhanced punches collided with her reinforced forearms.

  She didn’t flinch.

  She pivoted, parried, countered. Stronger. Faster. Controlled.

  One attacker slipped behind her.

  A knife flashed.

  Energy ran along its blade.

  Too close.

  Her squirrel tail twitched instinctively, sensing the shift in air—

  But he was already within striking range.

  A sharp snap cracked through the alley.

  The knife hit the ground.

  Risu turned.

  Taren stood behind her, gripping the attacker’s wrist. Thin arcs of electricity crawled along his arm—brief, contained, precise.

  For a moment, his relaxed aura was gone.

  His eyes were focused.

  He struck once.

  The thug collapsed.

  Taren glanced at her.

  “Behind you.”

  The calm tone returned.

  She nodded.

  They moved as one.

  Risu grabbed another attacker and drove her thick, glowing tail into his abdomen with a heavy, decisive strike.

  Taren slipped past a wild swing and delivered a compact electrically charged kick.

  Only one remained.

  Risu swept his legs and launched him upward with her tail—

  Taren understood her intention, he stepped forward and ended it with a single punch.

  Silence.

  Her orange aura faded slowly. The squirrel tail dissolved last, curling inward before vanishing.

  Taren stretched lightly.

  “So,” he said, “were you going to keep following me, or was that coincidence?”

  Her cheeks flushed.

  “You knew?”

  “You’re not subtle.”

  “I just wanted to know where you were going.”

  “I was heading to my favorite place,” he replied simply. “You should come.”

  Reluctantly, she agreed.

  As she followed him, her mind spiraled.

  Favorite place.

  A secret high-end restaurant reserved for political elites?

  An underground establishment run by crime syndicates?

  A hidden divine hangout?

  A shady bar full of delinquent magic users?

  Did he drink?

  Was he that type?

  She had grown up in police barracks and academy halls. Alcohol meant reports. Incidents. Suspensions.

  What if—

  He stopped beneath a neon sign.

  BURGERS.

  Red and blue light flickered over them.

  Risu stared in disbelief.

  “This?”

  “They have the best burgers in the city,” Taren said with complete sincerity.

  Inside, it was painfully ordinary.

  Plastic menus. Worn booths. No secrets.

  They sat.

  He ordered two burgers with cola without hesitation.

  “Thank gods,” he muttered when the food arrived. “I was starving.”

  Risu shook her head.

  “I was expecting something… more.”

  “Like?”

  “I don’t know. Something that explains you.”

  He laughed. “Like a month-reservation-only rooftop experience?”

  They ate.

  After a few bites, she spoke.

  “Electricity.”

  He looked up.

  “Hard to hide.”

  “You were holding back,” she said. “You barely used it.”

  He leaned back slightly.

  “Well,” he said casually, “you don’t show everything on the first date.”

  Her face burned.

  “First date?”

  But instead of snapping—

  She laughed.

  A genuine laugh.

  “How can this be a first date? You didn’t even ask me out properly.”

  He blinked, momentarily caught off guard.

  Then smiled.

  The conversation flowed easier after that. The tension hadn’t disappeared—but it had softened into something warmer.

  Risu glanced at the window, neon reflecting faintly in the glass and her face.

  A quiet thought surfaced.

  He’s either very good at pretending…

  …or I’m starting to want him to be innocent.