The perfume shop stood out the moment we approached it—a small glass storefront filled with shimmering bottles in every color. Soft mist drifted inside, carrying scents of citrus, flowers, and something warm and smoky.
Arin stopped first. "Ooh, let's check perfumes!"
Lilia nodded. "I wanted to try a new one too."
Syna simply followed quietly, clutching her new bag like it was treasure.
Rin whispered to me, "Perfumes? Why? They don't smell BAD."
"That's not why people buy them."
"Oh. Then why—"
"You'll see."
We stepped inside.
The first wave of fragrance hit us—not strong, just… a mix. Arin and Lilia split toward different display racks like bees to flowers.
Arin grabbed a test strip and sprayed something fruity. She brought it up to her nose.
"…Hmm."
She turned around and held it out in my direction. "What about this?"
I blinked. "You're asking me?"
"Yeah." She shrugged. "We're the same age. Your opinion counts."
Lilia joined her. "What about mine?" She held up a pale blue bottle. "Too strong?"
I stared at both strips.
Rin froze beside me. "Oh-no-oh-no-oh-no, Big Brother, what do we DO??? THIS IS A TRAP."
"It's not a trap."
"Yes, it is! Girls asking about smells?! This is like—like—final boss level!!"
"It's normal," I said.
"It's NOT normal for ME."
Arin crossed her arms. "We're waiting."
Rin whispered desperately, "Tell me the rules." QUICK."
I leaned slightly toward him.
"Rule three," I murmured.
"If a girl asks what looks good on her—don't panic. Don't lie. Just tell the truth that they like most… politely."
He stared at me like I'd revealed a sacred martial art.
Arin and Lilia leaned closer.
Rin straightened up dramatically. He pointed at Arin's strip. "That one smells fresh. Like… you."
Arin blinked in surprise.
He turned to Lilia. "And yours is soft. Gentle. It suits you."
Lilia's cheeks pinkened faintly. "Oh… um… thank you."
Even Syna sniffed one and shyly held it toward Rin. "What about mine…?"
Rin nearly passed out from panic.
He turned to me for help.
I mouthed, "Truth." Politely."
He nodded, swallowed, and said, "It's… sweet. And calm. Like you."
Syna lit up.
Arin smirked. "Well, well. Rin suddenly grew manners."
"BIG BROTHER TRAINED ME," he declared proudly.
I shook my head. "I only told you to breathe."
"That's training."
Lilia stepped closer to me. "What about you, Liam? Which ones do YOU think suit us?"
I looked at each strip again.
Arin's—fruity, bright. Lilia's—cool, clean, soft. Syna's—warm, sweet.
"…All three fit you," I said honestly. "They match your personalities."
Arin's eyes widened—not expecting the direct answer. She looked away stiffly. "Oh. Okay. Thanks."
Lilia smiled warmly. "That's… good. Thank you, Liam."
Syna whispered, "Mm… thank you."
Rin leaned in and whispered, "I think you just did a man-level answer."
We went to pay.
Arin insisted she would pay for her own. Lilia did the same.
But while they were busy, I scanned the men's shelf. A simple, dark bottle caught my eye. Subtle. Not strong. It smelled clean—something I could tolerate.
I bought three:
✔ One for me ✔ One for Father ✔ One for Uncle
And two little soft strong ones for Mother and Aunt.
When I returned, Rin looked at the bags. "Big Brother… We're carrying too much."
"Then ask Father to use the ring later."
"Oh, right…"
We left the perfume shop and continued walking through the mall.
Arin held her new bag gently. Lilia looked relaxed. Syna walked closer than before. Rin looked proud of himself.
And I walked quietly beside them—hands full of shopping bags, camera around my neck.
We kept moving—all five of us.
And it felt… normal.
For once, Normal wasn't boring. It was peaceful.
We'd barely stepped out of the perfume shop before Rin pointed toward another glowing sign.
"BOOKSTORE! BOOKSTORE! BOOKSTORE!!"
Arin raised a brow at him."You? Reading?"
"I read the skill descriptions in games!"
"That doesn't count."
I followed them toward the shop anyway.Books meant quiet places—something I still felt comfortable in.
The entrance was lined with floating displays showing book covers.Some rotated in the air, showing blurbs and artwork.Some glowed softly with mana-infused pages.
Inside, everything was warm wood and soft yellow light.People browsed in silence.Perfect.
Arin nudged me."You like books, right?"
I nodded.
"Go. Pick whatever you want."
I walked toward the shelves.
Titles passed by —Basics of Core Awakening,Mana Theory for Beginners,Elemental Affinity and Flow,History of Aeren Thalla.
Then novels:
Moonlight in Alloy Streets—a soft glow caught my eye.A crime-mystery fantasy.Beautiful cover.
I grabbed it without thinking.
Then two more:
✔ A general world history book✔ A guide for new awakeners
Arin peeked into my basket."Serious books. And a novel?"
I nodded.
"You read a lot, huh?"
"…Yes."
Rin shouted from the kids' section,"BIG BROTHER! LOOK! A BOOK WHERE A DRAGON EATS LIKE TEN PEOPLE!!"
Arin snatched it out of his hands."You're NOT reading that."
"But why—?!"
"It'll turn you into YOU, but worse."
He gasped."That's impossible!"
Even I laughed quietly at that.
I took another picture —Arin scolding Rin,Lilia and Syna browsing cute fairy-tale books,the warm lights behind them.
Arin caught me."You're taking pictures again."
"…Yes."
"You like it?"
"…Yes."
"Good."She smiled."You're good at it."
After paying for the books, we walked toward the ice cream kiosk.The menu floated overhead, colorful and animated.
Rin jumped."I want mint chocolate!!"
"Everyone knows that," Arin said.
Syna asked softly,"Liam… What flavor do you like?"
I blinked.Why did that matter?
"…Vanilla."
"That suits you," she said.
Lilia nodded."It does."
Arin smirked."So plain."
I put the book in front of my face like a shield.
Rin giggled."NERD!"
I lowered the book.
They laughed.
We ordered:
Vanilla for me
Mint chocolate for Rin
Strawberry for Arin
Blueberry for Lilia
Cotton candy swirl for Syna
We sat on a bench near the glass railing overlooking the ground floor of the mall.
I took a picture —the five ice creams lined up on the railing,the mall glowing below.
Then one more —when Rin dropped ice cream on his shirt and Syna handed him a napkin.
We walked without rushing.No one was forcing jokes or dragging topics.Just walking.
Arin: "Don't spill again."Rin: "It was tactical."Lilia: "That's not what 'tactical' means."Syna: "He tried…"Me: quietly taking a picture of all four heads in a row.
Every shop had different lights and different scents.
A jewelry store shimmered like stars.A smoothie stall made fruit smoothies with mango chillers.A toy store displayed a dancing slime plush.
Rin pressed his face to the slime store glass."I WANT IT."
"No," Arin said.
"Why??"
"You have 40 plushies."
"No, I don't!"
"Yes, you do. I counted."
Rin gasped."You spy on me?!"
"I have EYES, Rin."
I took a picture of Rin's shocked face.
Arin flicked the camera lens gently."You're seriously addicted to photography."
"…Maybe."
She grinned."Good. Keep doing it."
Syna tugged my sleeve shyly."Can I… see the pictures?"
I showed her the screen.
Her eyes widened."They're… really pretty."
Lilia leaned closer."You captured the lights well. And the timing."
Rin jumped in,"SHOW ME SHOW ME SHOW ME—!! Did you take a cool one of ME??"
I scrolled.
There he was —Mid-fall, mid-scream, ice cream dripping.
He shrieked."DELETE IT!!!"
"No."
"BIG BROTHERRRRRRR!!!"
Arin laughed so hard she almost dropped her cone.
We had walked for nearly two hours now.The afternoon sun shifted through the glass ceiling, turning the floor golden.
Arin stretched."We should go meet the parents soon."
Lilia nodded."We bought everything."
Syna hugged her bag."And… gifts…"
Rin looked at me."Big Brother… Can I give Syna her gift NOW?"
"No. Later. With everyone."
"Why??"
"It's fair."
He sighed dramatically."Life is hard."
Arin patted his head."You'll survive."
We walked toward the meeting spot —bags in hand,ice cream melting,camera full of pictures,a new calm feeling inside me.
For the first time in two lives,this felt like being…a normal kid with friends.
They were already waiting when we came back to the fountain.
Varis Ardew stood with his hands folded behind his back, posture easy but contained, as if he were a man who'd never stopped being on call. Serin Ardew sat beside him, smoothing Syna's hair with one hand and watching the kids with that soft, practical look mothers have
On the other side, Kael Kaelen leaned against the rail, elbows tucked in, with the kind of stillness that said he'd rather be anywhere than fussing—except right here. Elra Kaelen glanced up the moment she saw us and rose as if the sight of us had been the day's best present.
"Welcome back," Serin said before anyone got close, like it was a greeting and a thank you all wrapped together.
Rin burst forward, arms full of small bags, his zombie game case already peeking out. He did a clumsy, triumphant little dance. "Look! Look what I got—"
Elra immediately moved, gentler than a breeze, and fixed the smear of ice cream on his cheek. "Slow down, Rin. You'll trip," she said in that exact calm voice that stopped a child from doing anything worse than falling.
Kael's eyes slid toward me long enough to say the thing no one had announced in the hallway. It was low, private, but not small.
"Liam awakened," he told Varis, as if it were the sort of fact to set a room's weight. "Shadow and Fire."
Varis gave a low whistle that could have been a laugh. "Shadow and Fire. That's not something you see every day. Congratulations, Liam."
Serin's smile widened. Lilia—who had been quiet at my side the whole afternoon—blinked, the blue in her eyes brighter for a second. Syna's head popped out from behind Serin, and she peered like something shy and curious at a new toy.
I felt the camera against my chest and let my fingers brush the strap. I didn't know whether to feel proud or small. The sound of people saying congratulations felt foreign and warm at once.
Varis reached out and gave me a quick, measured clap on the shoulder. "You did well," he said. "This generation… they're showing promise."
Elra squeezed my shoulder with both hands. "We're proud," she said, so soft it could have been a thought.
A small cluster of onlookers clapped quietly; a couple of low-rank trainees who recognized Kael came over and offered short congratulations. Nothing loud. No ceremony. Stillness with a few bright points of noise—the kind of thing that meant small respect rather than spectacle.
Kael opened his hand. The ring on his finger—a simple band with a faint red pulse at its core—glimmered. He lifted the bags the kids handed him; one by one, they vanished with the softest ripple of light that looked like a breath. Rin's mouth dropped open. "Whoaaa—Dad, it's magic!"
"It's practical," Kael said, but the corners of his mouth twitched with a smile that didn't try to hide the relief in it. Serin and Elra exchanged the faint grin of two people who'd been through the same trenches.
"Your dad still has that ring?" Varis asked, amused.
"He keeps it for useful things," Elra said. "Not for leaping into dungeons." The small joke made both men laugh—men who used to move through danger, now arguing over who had the better tool for keeping toys from scattering around a mall.
There was a moment of something like ceremony as the adults settled themselves on the benches by the fountain. The children collapsed on the low walls nearby like exhausted birds. Kael sat, elbows on his knees. Varis leaned in. Serin watched the kids with half an eye.
Then, without anyone making a fanfare, Varis said the next thing I had been waiting for—and the thing that almost made Kael look sheepish as he admitted it.
"The academy principal saw Kael's message," Varis said, amusement in his voice. "He didn't just see it—he announced it to half the faculty and then sent Kael back three affirming messages. He's thrilled."
Elra's eyebrows arched. "Threat level: proud father?"
"Threat level: child," Kael muttered, and then shrugged. "He's my son."
Serin laughed, the sound warm and easy. "Kael talks like a little child when he's excited about his kids," she said. "We all know it."
Arin—who had been leaning with her back to the fountain, folding one leg under the other—nudged me with an elbow, eyes on Kael as if trying to read the map of his face. "He really did message the principal?" she asked, more curious than amused.
"He did," Varis answered. "And the principal sent a message back: if Liam can reach F-rank within two and a half months, the academy will place him directly into Arin and Lilia's class. Skip the foundation cohort. Jump right into the main line."
The words landed in the space between my ribs like cold water.
Arin froze. Lilia's mouth smoothed into a line. For a heartbeat, both girls looked as if someone had told them the weather would suddenly change; not a reaction of anger, not exactly unhappiness, but surprise that had the shape of something thoughtful and cautious. Their faces said, "Already?" like two people who had planned out a season and found a new contour on the horizon.
Then Arin forced a smile, small and brittle at first, but it expanded. "That's… good," she said, because there was too much weight in silence. The tone was careful; I caught the brief glance she slipped my way—nothing accusatory, only hesitant. Lilia nodded after a slow breath. "Yes. We'll help him catch up."
Syna chirped, "Good," honest and immediate. Rin, oblivious to the subtlety, pumped his fist. "BIG BROTHER IN YOUR ACADEMY!!" he yelled, and everyone laughed, which broke the hold of tension as a stone breaks ice.
Varis had that thin, proud look that fathers get when they talk about future blades and the shape they'll carve in the world. "Lilia awakened water at eleven," he said, bright with the sort of pride that doesn't keep itself small. "She'll be at E in a month if she keeps this rate. Syna… she's small but steady with a sword. Like me." He let out a short chuckle and gave Serin a sideways look that was fond and tired at once.
Kael, seeing the pattern, softened. "Liam learned to read and write in a month," he said simply. "Not because someone forced him, but because he wanted to. That convinced the principal. Shows determination and brains." He said it like a fact that could not be argued.
The principal's name came up then, a half-joke from Varis about how the man would probably put up a portrait of Kael in the headmaster's office if Liam showed up and passed the first test. I felt a small, almost foolish swell of something that might have been pride. The whole affair felt unreal—the world nudging me forward with expectations that were both heavy and oddly promising.
Arin and Lilia shared a look again, and this time their expression softened. It was a small, human thaw—like ice melting at the edge. Arin's voice dropped, private. "We'll talk about it later," she told me, not a reprimand but a promise to explain why she'd gone quiet.
I stored that promise in a place where I kept things I planned to ask about later. The kids played at the fountain edge. Rin showed Syna his friendship band and was as proud as any boy could be when she accepted it with the faintest smile. Syna leaned into Serin's side and clutched the rabbit plush like a talisman; the sight made my chest ease.
When it was time to leave, we moved as a tired, satisfied swarm toward the escalators. Kael's ring shimmered one last time and swallowed our morning's loot. Gifts were distributed in the haste of goodbyes.
"Here," I said quietly to Lilia as we parted, pressing a slim diary with a ribbon and the pen into her hands. "For notes. For… stories."
She accepted it with both hands, surprised, then suddenly warm. "Thank you, Liam," she said, and there was no show in it—just the simple kind of gratitude that speeds up your step. For Syna I handed over the rabbit plush; Rin, clumsy with his heroics, had already thrust a tiny pink charm onto her wrist. She blushed, hiding the bundle of ribbon and plastic as if it were something precious.
Varis and Serin thanked me for the perfumes. Serin kissed Syna's head as she did so. Kael just nodded and offered what passed for a fatherly blessing—the kind you don't hear, only feel. He tapped my bracelet once, a private gesture. "Keep the balance practical," he said. "Don't blow it on games."
Rin misheard and said, "He won't, right?" and I smiled and told him I wouldn't. He screamed in relief, like I'd promised him the moon.
We rode home in a pair of low, quiet cars—the sort parents used when they didn't want fuss, just movement. I sat with the window down and took pictures as the city unrolled itself into evening: lanterns that hovered like slow fireflies, vendors packing up, and kids still racing bicycles in the square. Arin sat beside me and tapped my shoulder when I took a photo of a street vendor balancing a tower of glowing fruit. "Stop being a tourist," she said, but there was no sharpness in it.
"Will you tell me about class later?" I asked when it was just the two of us in the back seat, with Rin asleep with the game case on his lap and Elra humming something in the front.
She looked at me, the expression small and complicated. "Yeah," she said finally. "I'll tell you everything. How it is now. Who's strict. Who's not. And why I went quiet back there. It wasn't that I didn't want you—" she stopped, searching for the right words, "—I was just… surprised. You just showed up in the picture without the rest of the season arriving first. I didn't know how to be ready."
"Okay," I said. The moonlight sliding through the window seemed to agree; it made the edges of us softer.
At home, I set the camera on the shelf, where it caught light like a small promise. Mom folded the scarf I'd given her into the drawer she kept close to her heart. Father went down to the small underground training area and, later, I heard the practiced rhythm of wood meeting leather as he warmed up—he'd put the gloves on the minute he came back, the quiet gratitude of a man for something small and useful.
Before bed I opened the diary Lilia had already started in her head and wrote one sentence, the kind of sentence that is both a note and a vow:
Today, I felt like I might belong to something that wasn't only me.
It was a small line. It was enough for now.