—WHAAAAT?!

  His mother’s scream pierced Seiyi’s eardrum. In a reflex of pure desperation, he pressed the phone's speaker against his chest, trying to stifle the volume as he felt the gazes of half the cafeteria fixed on the back of his neck.

  —Don't shout, please! —he whispered through his teeth, hunching his shoulders—. I’m in public...

  —You want to come back right now?! Without any prior notice?! —His mother’s voice, even muffled, sounded like a whip—. Seiyi... We aren't millionaires to throw money away like that! We paid for the full program. If I cancel now, I’ll have to pay a fine that will leave us eating white rice for three months.

  Seiyi closed his eyes tightly. Cold sweat began to slide down his neck.

  —I know... I know. But we’ve already decided. I have my reasons... she is the main one. You said it yourself, Mom. You said I had to take care of her.

  —But this was your dream! —she criticized him, shifting the attack toward his weak point—. Are you going to throw the opportunity of a lifetime into the trash? Do you think the Central University of the F.O.W. will look at you the same way with a local high school diploma from Japan? You’re making contacts here, Seiyi! The future is here! In Japan... in Japan, you’ll only be fighting for scraps. I care about you, damn it!

  Seiyi felt a burning knot in his throat. Every word from his mother was a truth he repeated to himself every night before falling asleep.

  —There’s... there isn’t much difference —he lied, and the lie tasted like ash—. I’m fine. I can endure it... I can push myself there.

  —You’re lying! Miyu can come back alone! —the mother sentenced, her voice becoming cold and practical—. If you’re so worried, let her take the plane tomorrow. I’ll receive her. You stay and finish the year. It would be cheaper, more logical...

  —But I... I prom... I prom... —The words got stuck. The weight of the promise he made to his father, the weight of Miyu’s hand trembling when they arrived in California... it all collided inside him.

  —Your sister would also want you to stay if you weren't so stubborn!

  That was the breaking point. Seiyi’s safety valve blew apart. Without warning, he raised his tone, the metal of his chair screeched against the floor, and his voice came out broken, loaded with a poisonous honesty:

  —I DECIDED IT! —he shouted, completely ignoring the students who stopped eating to watch him—. It’s not my fault that my sister has immature problems! I dream big, Mom! I dream more than anyone in this damn school! But... but I can’t break my promise! It hurts, damn it! It hurts so much I don't know what to do!

  A deathly silence invaded the cafeteria. Yarin and Manley stood petrified, watching Seiyi grind his teeth, his fists so tight his knuckles turned white. Yarin didn't know if the "real" Seiyi was behind those words.

  After a few seconds that felt like hours, Seiyi slumped into his seat, his shoulders drooping.

  —Mom... just send me the digital signature —he murmured, his voice barely a thread—. I’ll do the rest tomorrow. If I have to, I’ll work triple when I get back. Just... stop questioning me, okay? I can’t take it anymore.

  The phone went silent. On the other end of the line, his mother exhaled a long sigh, one that carried years of weariness.

  —You will have to work to pay for the cost of this decision, Seiyi —she said, with a serious tone that chilled his blood—. When you get back, there will be no rest. It’s for your own good... as your father would say: "You must learn to accept the consequences of what you choose."

  Seiyi didn't respond. He hung up the call and dropped the phone onto the table with a dry thud. He had a defeated look, as if he had just lost a war against himself. The helplessness was so great that he felt that if he spoke, he would vomit.

  He rested his forehead against the cold table. Manley, in a desperate and clumsy attempt to lighten the mood, pointed under the table.

  —Se... Seiyi. What ended up happening with those runes that were written here?

  Seiyi didn't even lift his head.

  —I don't know... I don't care —he replied with a muted voice—. Some bad joke, surely.

  —Heyyy! How’s it going?!

  Miyu exclaimed, smiling with her typical energy. Seiyi looked at her, tired and trying to fake a smile.

  ?It’s for her own good… it’s for her own good… it’s for her own good… it’s for her...?

  The phrase hammered Seiyi’s skull in an infinite rhythm. He didn't even realize the school bell had rung until the footsteps of hundreds of students leaving the classrooms pulled him from his trance. He positioned himself in the usual spot, under the shadow of the entrance arch. Five minutes passed. Then ten. The bustle began to die down, and the courtyard was almost empty.

  ?Where did she get to? Did she fall asleep again??. Seiyi toyed with his phone, debating between calling her or just waiting. ?Maybe I should tell her we’ll eat something sweet. Yeah, that’ll compensate for Mom’s shouting?.

  In the distance, a small figure appeared among the shadows of the hallways. It was Miyu. She walked with a strange slowness, dragging her feet as if carrying an invisible weight. She looked fragile, like a rag doll.

  Seiyi didn't think twice. He needed to release the pressure from the call; he needed to remember why he was sacrificing his future. He ran toward her, letting his backpack fall to the floor, and wrapped her in a desperate hug, like a sloth clinging to its only tree.

  —There you were! —Seiyi exclaimed, burying his face in his sister’s shoulder—. Shall we go eat something? My treat.

  Miyu tensed for a second, surprised by the sudden contact. Her body felt rigid.

  —What bug bit you, Sei? —she tried to joke, but her laugh sounded hollow—. No... today I’d rather go straight home.

  Seiyi pulled back a bit, looking for her gaze.

  —Did something happen? You’re pale.

  —No! No, no... it’s just that... for some reason, I’m not in the mood to eat —Miyu blurted out suddenly, placing a hand on her stomach and clutching the fabric of her uniform, as if she could still feel the pressure of the dragon’s claw crushing her lungs.

  —Really? —Seiyi frowned. It was then that he noticed: Miyu’s uniform was covered in dirt, scraps of dry leaves, and dark stains—. Hey, did you fall? Those stains are going to be impossible to get out, Miyu.

  —Oh... yeah. It was P.E. class —she lied quickly, looking down at her shoes—. I tripped on the field. It’s nothing important. Shall we go?

  Without waiting for a response, Miyu stepped ahead toward the bus stop. Seiyi stood static, watching her walk. Something didn't fit. Miyu never rejected free food, let alone looked so defeated by a simple fall.

  ?She didn't want to go eat. She’s going straight to sleep as always... P.E. class must have been a torture for her to be like this, although...?.

  Seiyi felt a chill that had nothing to do with the weather. He stared at the digital calendar on his wristwatch.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  —Today is Tuesday... —he murmured to himself.

  The road back home was a desert of words. Neither of them dared to break the silence, fearing that the slightest spark would blow up the secrets they carried in their pockets.

  Upon crossing the residence threshold, the air felt heavy. Seiyi went straight to the kitchen, emptying a water bottle and refilling it with cold water. For her part, Miyu collapsed onto the sofa, shedding her pink sweater with a clumsy movement and leaving it lying there like dead skin.

  Seiyi sighed. Seeing the dirty clothes triggered the orderly instinct he used to avoid thinking.

  ?It’s a mess. I have to wash it before going out for groceries, but... five minutes. I just need five minutes of peace?.

  He reclined on the other end of the sofa, feeling the springs creak under his weight. Miyu got up immediately and locked herself in her room. Seiyi, driven by a mixture of duty and suspicion, got up a moment later and opened her bedroom door without warning.

  Miyu jumped, pressing her back against the wall with a look of panic. Her hands were behind her, trying to hide the trace of the device she had attached.

  —Hey, give me the clothes that...

  PLACK!

  A pillow flew across the room and smashed right into Seiyi’s cheek.

  —Idiot! There’s something called privacy, knock on the door! —Miyu shouted, her voice trembling but sharp.

  Seiyi rubbed his face, blinking from the blow.

  —I don't care about your privacy if your clothes look like a construction worker’s! I’m here for your basket. Put whatever’s left in the washer when you’re ready.

  He grabbed the wicker basket, but he couldn't help but notice that Miyu wouldn't move from the wall. She moved sideways, watching him like a cornered animal. Suspicious, yes, but Seiyi was too drained to start an investigation. Just as he was about to leave, his sister’s voice stopped him, this time with no trace of anger.

  —Sei?

  —What? —he replied, turning around in the doorway.

  —Maybe it’s a silly thing, but... what do you know about the Legion of Mages?

  Seiyi let out a dry laugh.

  —Are you still traumatized by what I said yesterday?

  —It’s not that. It’s just... what do we really know about them?

  Seiyi shrugged, resting the basket on his hip.

  —Almost nothing. They’re terrorists who fight the F.O.W. Bad people, Miyu.

  —Right... but how bad?

  Seiyi stared at her. The doubt in his sister’s eyes bothered him.

  —Miyu, there’s news every day. Explosions, robberies, forbidden magic. Do you doubt what everyone says?

  —No, no... I was just wondering.

  Without another word, Seiyi let out a sigh loaded with frustration and closed the door. He didn't have the energy for moral debates. He returned to the sofa, turned on the TV, and put on the first thing he found: a sitcom that didn't require thinking.

  ?I’ll watch half and then I’ll go for the groceries. It’s the beginning of the month?.

  But the body has its own rules. The murmur of the television and the glow of the phone became a blurry mass. Unconsciously, Seiyi closed his eyes.

  When he woke up, the apartment was bathed in a blue light. The streaming platform was rolling the credits of a movie he didn't know, and his mouth felt dry, as if he had swallowed sand. He looked at his phone with squinted eyes.

  11:00 PM.

  —Shit! —He jumped off the sofa, hair messy and heart racing—. I fell asleep...

  If he didn't go now, tomorrow they’d be eating air for breakfast. He put a hoodie over his wrinkled uniform and ran out of the residence. The California night was fresh, and the silence of the streets felt artificial.

  As he passed the bushes that faced his window, something glinted under the light of a streetlamp. He stopped. It was a piece of pink plastic. He crouched down and picked up half of the wand that he himself had thrown out the window the day before. A few steps further, he found the other half, dirty with soil. He felt a pang of guilt in his chest.

  ?Wow... I didn't think this junk would still be here. Miyu must have been really sad about this?. He tucked the pieces into his hoodie pocket, feeling the cold plastic against his leg. ?Maybe I can fix it with glue before she wakes up. It’s the least I can do?.

  With the pieces of that wand in his pocket, Seiyi hurried his pace. The neon light of the convenience store could already be seen in the distance.

  Upon entering, the door chime let out a sharp tinkle that broke the night's silence. Seiyi, carrying a pang of regret for having fallen asleep, picked up the pace. He started throwing things into the cart with a mechanical urgency: milk, cereal, bread. He knew every minute lost was one minute less of sleep before the alarm clock dragged him back to reality.

  ?I need meat… Although last time it expired in five days. I should look for the one at the back, the freshest one.?

  He approached the freezer section. Suddenly, the chime of the bell rang again, but this time it was accompanied by a dry thud, as if someone had kicked the door on their way in.

  —Control yourself! —a male voice growled, slurring the words—. That door didn't do anything to you, you animal.

  —Yeah… I’m sorry —another voice replied, even more unstable and pasty—. That kind of door… they’re always so… open. They provoke me.

  —Right, it’s a damn public store. Are you drunk or just a moron?

  Seiyi tensed immediately. From the tone, he thought they might be vagrants looking for a fight. Without looking at them directly, he ducked his head between the shelves, pretending an absolute concentration on the labels of canned tomatoes. To his bad luck, the alcohol section was right behind him.

  He heard footsteps. Bottles clinking against each other. Voices too loud for a nearly empty store.

  ?What bad luck… I didn't know there’d be so many drunks at this hour. I hope they don't do something crazy. I still have to find a few things?.

  The murmurs drew closer, and the conversation became clearer.

  —I don't agree, I really don't understand —one of them said. Seiyi caught a glimpse of a guy with glasses placed awkwardly over his forehead and messy hair. —Which one are you going to want?

  —Maybe a… jasmine tea —the other laughed, a ruder-looking but equally wobbly man—. Would you like that, you fucking Asian man?

  Seiyi gripped the cart. For a second, he thought the insult was directed at him, but he realized they were fighting with each other.

  —Hey… there’s no need to insult me, you know? —the one with the glasses replied—. You must learn to listen to opinions. Don't be so rude.

  —Look… I’d rather be a drug dealer with delusions of grandeur than a guy over-exploited twenty-four hours a day.

  —Ah, so you’d rather risk your life and not even be able to walk at night just for a little dirty money?

  —No one would kill me! —the agent raised his voice, making an employee at the back of the store look up—. Damn it… I’m… I’m almost immortal, you know?

  —It’s a hypothetical case. Any person… any normal guy would choose to live comfortably in a first-world country.

  —If you like the first world so much, maybe we should try this thing —he said, lifting a bottle—. “Single Malt,” original from California. Looks good, eh?

  —I think you shouldn't change the subject when I’m talking to you. Learn some basic manners, damn it.

  Seiyi tried to move toward the register. ?Just the bread… the bread and the tomato… what the hell are these guys talking about??.

  —You know? —the one with messy hair continued—. I’m starting to think that guy on the red sofa would agree with me. He wouldn't be as… annoying as you.

  —What? —the other replied—. That guy wasn't even listening to the talk earlier.

  —I’m telling you… —he insisted—. That guy must know something. You can see it in his eyes. Just look at him, you know?

  Seiyi swallowed hard.

  —No, friend… I know many drunk stares —the one with glasses replied, with absolute cynicism—. And that look in particular leads to something else. Maybe he even suspects something already.

  —Ha, as if. Whatever. We’ll get out of here and say we only went to check on the MystiCorps kids. That ends the problem and we get what we want.

  Seiyi froze for a second.

  ?MystiCorps… it’s the company that sponsors Elementalist…?. His eyes went wide. Those weren't vagrants.

  —You know… you behave like a real criminal —the other continued—. Maybe Miguel gave you classes or something, but you must belong… you must belong to the Third World.

  —Fuck you. I’d rather live freely there a thousand times over than have a boss with problems of… I don't know, erectile dysfunction? —The agent let out a laugh that echoed in the aisles—. Those sons of bitches have it small… telling me what to do. Let him fix his marriage problems first… damn it, does that make me racist?

  —Hahaha!

  Minutes later, Seiyi approached the register with the groceries ready. The two guys stepped ahead of him, staggering. They placed the bottle of Single Malt and two bags of potato chips on the counter. Seeing them up close, under the raw white light of the checkout, Seiyi felt his blood freeze.

  Under their careless jackets, he caught a glimpse of a reinforced cloth patch. A sign embroidered with silver thread that shone with authority: F.O.W.

  ?Wait… that on their backs says…?, shit… they’re from the F.O.W. I could take the chance to ask about… no. Maybe it’s not important. It’s just a joke. No one knows Gronk'tar well enough to write it… heh?.

  While he waited, he continued listening to them.

  —Yeah… he was always cool —the one with glasses was saying, while searching for money in his pockets—. Pity he had that addiction to harassing his female co-workers.

  —If I had that power to vibrate, I’d do it too —the messy-haired agent replied—, but with consent. I’m not a damn harasser like him.

  The cashier, a woman who looked like she had died inside years ago, swiped the products through the scanner.

  —That’s fifty-two dollars.

  —Fifty-two?! —the careless one exclaimed, slamming the counter—. Dan, this piece of shit bottle costs forty-five!

  —What’s the matter? Don't have any money, Mr. “Lieutenant”? —Dan smiled maliciously—. I promise you, if you ask me to pay one more time, I’ll kill you right here.

  —Shit, Dan, I only have forty-six dollars. Come on, it’s just a bit more.

  —You owe me more than a hundred and twenty! I see why you want to go to the Third World; there you could afford whatever.

  —Gentlemen, you’re holding up the line! —the cashier interrupted, tapping the counter with her fingers.

  In the end, with a grunt of frustration, the Lieutenant pushed the two bags of potato chips aside. They paid for the bottle and left the store arguing and shoving, leaving a trail of tobacco smell and cheap alcohol. When his turn came, Seiyi looked at the two bags of chips abandoned on the counter.

  ?These guys look like idiots… but maybe I can do a good deed. It would be the least I could do… the F.O.W. took care of us once?.

  —Excuse me —Seiyi said, pulling an extra bill from his pocket—. Could you also add those two bags there?