Alex Hunter was a sophomore at St. Aldric's Academy—an institution seated proudly at the top of London's educational world. An elite school that prized natural talent and hard work more than the numbers printed on a report card. For someone like Alex, it almost felt as if the place had been designed with him in mind long before he was born.
"Yo, Alex! Wait up!"
He paused and turned, although he already knew whose voice that was.
"Hurry up," Alex said as James stumbled toward him. "We're already late as it is. I really don't want more trouble because of you."
"Alright, I hear ya," James panted, finally reaching him.
The boy's yellow hair was a mess, and his brown eyes were slightly unfocused—he was breathing like he'd sprinted nonstop since dawn. He slumped against Alex's shoulder, using him as a support while catching his breath.
"Man, you really need to calm down," James said, still winded. "I asked you to wait for me in front of your house, and you just ditched me. Not cool, man."
"Not cool my ass," Alex shot back. "I waited almost fifteen minutes. You never showed up. And get off me—you're wrinkling my shirt." He shook James off with mild irritation.
"Yeah, but still… you could've walked slower," James muttered as he straightened up. The two boys continued toward the academy.
They traded small talk until the school gates came into view. Just before entering, Alex suddenly stopped walking. James halted beside him, confused.
"I don't want to ask this," Alex said with a tired look, "but… James, you did your homework, right?"
"Homework?" James blinked with pure confusion.
Alex rubbed his eyes. "I knew it."
With a sigh, he opened his bag, took out a notebook, and held it out.
"Here. All the assignments and their answers are in this book."
James brightened instantly—he clearly hadn't even known homework was assigned. He reached for the notebook, only for Alex to pull it back slightly, making James meet his eyes.
"Huh?" James murmured, unsure.
"I'm giving this to you, James," Alex said, voice firm—almost a warning. "Not the class. Not your friends. You. Understand?"
"Of course. You're giving it to me," James replied jokingly.
"No, you really don't understand." Alex's tone sharpened. "Last time I lent you my book, it went missing for a week. I lost marks because of that. And when I finally found it—without your help—it was missing pages. I had to spend my entire weekend rewriting everything."
"Oh…" Realization finally dawned on James's face, as if he'd only just remembered the whole incident.
"Don't 'oh' me," Alex snapped lightly. "Just keep my book to yourself this time. Got it?"
"Yeah, no problem," James replied jokingly.
"I said stop laughing," Alex muttered as the two of them headed into the school building.
By lunchtime, Alex was at his desk as usual—sitting quietly with his head slightly lowered, listening to the steady stream of gossip drifting across the classroom.
What new info would I be getting this time? he wondered, one eye twitching beneath the desk.
Call me pathetic all you want… I don't have friends apart from that one dumb-ass, he continued in his mind, sounding as though he were narrating to an imaginary reader. It's not like I need more friends or anything.
Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice the footsteps approaching until a hand gently rested on his shoulder.
Alex jolted upright, springing from his seat as if shocked by electricity. The entire class froze, startled by his reaction—James included, the very person who had touched Alex's shoulder.
"...You okay, Alex?" James asked softly, his voice low and careful, concern written across his face.
"...Y-yeah," Alex muttered, trying to piece together why he'd reacted so violently.
Did you see that?
Yeah.
I heard he has some kind of mental illness.
Oh my god, really?
Is that why he has no friends?
Maybe?
Whispers swept across the room, faster and harsher than usual. This time, the target was Alex.
I don't suffer from any mental illness… and I don't have friends because I don't want to, Alex seethed internally as the rumors buzzed around him.
"Don't listen to them, okay? It's all—"
James didn't get to finish.
"SHUT UP!! THE HELL DO YOU KNOW?! STOP ACTING LIKE MY THERAPIST!"
Alex's voice blasted through the classroom, sharp enough to silence every corner of the room. James stood there, stunned—face filled with shock and confusion. He had no idea why Alex was suddenly treating him like this.
"...I don't need your pity. So you can shove it up your ass," Alex snapped before turning toward the door.
"Oh—and return the book when you're done with it," he added, slamming the door behind him.
"Hah…" Alex exhaled shakily as he walked down the hallway, hands shoved into his pockets, head bowed.
As he moved, two girls came walking from the opposite end, chatting and giggling.
"What was the name of that handsome Japanese actor again?" one asked.
"I'm telling you, he was sooo good-looking. His name was Reiji."
They passed by him without a second glance—leaving nothing but silence in their wake.
Wait… what did those girls say?
Alex froze, his expression twisting slowly into horror. That name… I know it. I've heard it before. Where… where… where? He repeated the question over and over in his mind.
"M-My head hurts…" he whispered, clutching his temples as a sharp pulse of pain shot through his skull.
"Where's Sel? … Wait. Who is Sel? … What am I even talking about?"
"Dammit, my head hurts like hell… I'm starting to feel dizzy. I need to go to the nurse's o-f…fice—"
Before he could finish, his body buckled. Alex collapsed to the floor, still trying to move whatever parts of his body would respond.
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Akio Watanabe considered himself your average office worker… or at least, that's what he liked to believe. In truth, he was an animator at BITE Studios—hardly the hallmark of a typical salaryman. But it paid the bills, and that was enough. Survival came before pride.
Recently, his team had been assigned to animate the new season of the beloved manga 'Two Kick Man.' The reception, to put it gently, had been… brutal. Fans tore it apart. Not that he blamed them.
If anyone was at fault, it was the production committee. They were failing spectacularly at their jobs, dragging the entire team down with them.
"It's not as if we don't take some responsibility," Akio muttered as he pushed open the door to a convenience store. "But everything could've been avoided if the production team just did the bare minimum."
He paid for a pack of cigarettes, then glanced up at a convex mirror hanging overhead. His own reflection stared back—pale skin, disheveled hair, and dark rings beneath his eyes.
I look terrible. Look at those damn eye bags… he thought as he stepped outside. A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do, I guess.
"Ugh…" Akio pressed a hand against his forehead. "My head's been hurting more than usual these past few days. I should buy some painkillers before heading back."
He turned around to re-enter the store, but a pair of women approached the door at the same time. Out of habit, and halfhearted politeness, he stepped aside and held the door for them.
"Yeah, he said his name was Alex. I think he was a foreigner," one woman said as she passed.
"Yeah? Well, what did you say to him?" the other replied.
Akio froze.
"Hmm?… What is this feeling of déjà vu? Am I really that tired?" he murmured as he lingered by the door.
Whatever. I'll just grab the painkillers and go home. I can't remember the last time I got proper rest, he thought, stepping back inside.
Later that night, the streets outside were almost unnaturally dark. Not a single car passed by; even the wind felt loud enough to echo.
"It's really windy… Where the hell did this come from?" Akio said, stopping mid-step.
"I'm sure the weather forecast didn't mention anything like this. And it's not even the season for it…" He shielded his eyes as a sudden gust roared through the street.
"I wonder if Sel could make this stop."
The wind vanished instantly.
"Huh?… It stopped?" Akio lowered his arm, glancing around in confusion. "Did… I make that stop?"
A short, incredulous laugh burst out of him.
"Hahaha—yeah, right. Akio, man… full-grown adult and still imagining you've got supernatural powers. What the hell's gotten into me?" He wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes.
But then he froze again.
"Sel?… Who is that?" he whispered. "I'm pretty sure I've never even heard that name before."
"Ugh, my head… What's with this sudden headache? Am I seriously sick?" He pressed both hands to his temples.
The pain spiked sharply—so intense his briefcase slipped from his grip, clattering to the ground. He abandoned it, clutching his head with both hands now.
"Dammit… this is bad… I'm getting dizzy… need… hospital…" He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone—and immediately dropped it.
"No—!" Akio bent down instinctively, but the motion triggered another surge of agony.
He screamed.
The world blurred. His vision dissolved into pulsing streaks of color, then darkness. He felt his body collapse, but the moment it hit the ground—
Everything vanished.
Weightlessness.
Silence.
No body. No sensation. Only drifting.
Ah… I'm back here again, he thought. Am I truly dead this time? I'm so tired… I just want this to end…
The void wrapped around him like a soft blanket. Peaceful. Quiet. Eternal.
It wouldn't be so bad to spend eternity like this…
"I GOT YOU, MASTER!!"
A voice shattered the silence.
Suddenly he felt weight. Limbs. The ground beneath him. His senses snapped back as if someone had plugged him into reality.
"Sel…? Is that you?" Akio looked toward the voice, but saw nothing. The space was still pitch-black.
I think Sel did something like this, he thought, imagining the darkness turning white.
And the void obeyed.
The realm of nothingness slowly brightened until a white patch—only a few meters wide—formed around him. As the space reshaped, a familiar figure appeared.
Sel.
She sprinted toward him and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him so tightly that a normal human's spine would have snapped instantly. Tears streamed from her eyes as she clung to him, refusing to let go.
Akio felt something stir in his chest—comfort. Warmth. A sense of belonging deeper than anything he'd felt in years. Even the gentle silence of the void couldn't compare.
"Sel…" he whispered, hugging her back as tears rolled down his own cheeks. It felt as though centuries had passed since he last held her.
Eventually, they pulled away just enough to hold hands.
"Sel… what happened?" he asked softly. "I can vaguely remember… but not everything."
Sel wiped her tears with the back of her hand.
"The thing… was…"