The woman's gaze flicked toward the boy, her expression unchanging—except for a slight tightening of her jaw at his words.
Her amber eyes cut back to the delinquents with glacial precision.
"…So you targeted a woman." A pause. The air around them seemed to grow heavier, like stone settling over graves. "And then resorted to magical assault when confronted by someone defending her?" Her voice was low, controlled—but a dangerous undercurrent ran through it now.
"You and your friends are going straight into disciplinary custody." Her sharp gaze swept over them, leaving no room for argument.
Her next words were little more than a low, cold whisper. "And I hope they make you all scrub every single Reformatory restroom floor—with your own toothbrushes."
The boy gulped, a chill running down his spine at the sight of the Lorewarden's icy glare. He could practically feel the temperature drop.
She unclasps the badge from her lapel. A soft pulse of magic vibrates through the pin, resonating with its counterpart back at Lorewardens HQ.
A moment later, a voice crackles to life over a hidden comm-spell.
"This is HQ. Go ahead."
"Requesting backup at the Alleyway between Main Street and North Street. Multiple magical offenders apprehended and restrained. I need a transport team here immediately."
The pin hums in acknowledgment. "Understood. Backup on its way, ETA seven minutes."
She looks down at the pinned delinquents, still struggling in vain against the ground.
"My colleagues are on their way now. Just seven minutes."
A mixture of disbelief and anxiety crosses the faces of the delinquents.
"Seven?!" their leader protested, his voice cracking as he tugged uselessly against the stone-hard ground. "You're leaving us here for seven whole minutes?!"
She sighs, her annoyance barely a flicker on her calm, stoic face.
"I'd prefer not to resort to violence."
She raises her right foot casually, and then-
CRACK-
"Gah!"
Her boot connects with the leader's face with a sickening smack, knocking him out cold in a single blow. His body sags limp, face pressed into the cobblestones.
The others yell in surprise and disbelief at their leader's sudden collapse.
"BOSS!!!"
She gives a final, icy glare back at the sprawled delinquents. The cold steel in her expression says more than words.
"Consider this a warning," her voice rings out, cold, clear, and cutting. "The authorities take harassment, threats—and definitely magical assault—very seriously. If any of you ever feel inclined to act like a pack of rabid wolves again,"
"...I'll make your faces even uglier than they already are."
Her boots click against the cobblestones as she pivots on her heel, striding away from the alley and leaving the delinquents pinned helplessly in the street.
The boy's heart thuds in his chest, his hands trembling slightly. He tries to catch his breath, watching in a daze as the woman's footsteps echo down the alley.
A mixture of awe, respect, and something else—something a lot like admiration—stirs within him. He can't help but be drawn to her stoic power, the way she faced down those thugs without a hint of hesitation.
He glances at the stunned delinquents, then after the woman who's walking away.
Without thinking, he finds himself following her.
...
She hears the patter of his footsteps and glances back. For a moment, she seems almost surprised to see the boy catching up to her—though her face betrays no more than a flicker of it.
A subtle pause as she stops in her tracks, pivoting to face him. "What do you want?" Her tone is cool, if not outright frosty, giving no hints of a warm welcome in her otherwise calm demeanor.
The boy freezes mid-step, caught off-guard by her sharp tone. He blinks rapidly before forcing a lopsided grin onto his face.
"Uh—just wanted to say thanks! You know, for the whole... saving-my-ass-from-being-pulped thing?" he gestures vaguely back toward the alley.
Her expression remains unmoved, her eyes coolly appraising beneath the rim of her glasses.
"That was well within the job description," she replies matter-of-factly.
She gives him a once-over with a critical gaze. Noticing his disheveled appearance and the hint of a nervous fidget in his movements.
"...You're a student, correct?" She asks with a subtle edge in her voice.
The boy straightens up under the weight of her gaze, trying to appear less, well, pathetic.
"Uh, yeah, I am," he admits, running a hand through his disheveled hair in an attempt to smooth down the wild bedhead-style it always takes on after a run.
He glances down at his rumpled clothes, wincing inwardly. Maybe he should have taken a minute to brush himself off before trying to talk to this woman.
And he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for another dose of judgment.
"Right. Uh. I'm Isagani Tanaka. Nice to meet you, miss...?"
He gives her a hopeful look, waiting for her to introduce herself in turn.
She studies him for a long moment—long enough that it almost feels like she's weighing the merit of answering at all.
Finally, her hand lifts just slightly to adjust her glasses again, a small but deliberate motion.
"Iris. Iris Clayborne."
Her response is clipped, almost formal, and her expression gives no hints as to what she may be thinking beneath her calm gaze.
"Pleasure to meet you, Isagani."
For a moment, Isagani is at a loss for words. The way she says his name—
He shakes his head slightly, bringing himself back to reality. This isn't the time for being flustered by someone's voice.
He forces a grin, plastering on his best 'charming' expression.
"Heh. 'Pleasure' is an understatement. Not every day you get rescued by a badass woman." He gives her a wink.
Iris eyes narrow slightly at his wink and charming grin, as if seeing right through his attempt.
"Save the flattery. I'm not easily impressed."
Her tone is dry, bordering on disdainful, and she clearly doesn't seem too amused by his attempt at flirtatious banter.
Isagani's grin falters for half a second before he recovers, coughing into his fist.
"Yeah... yeah, I know. Just keeping it real," he mutters with forced casualness.
Rubs the back of his head, still trying to salvage the situation.
"Hey, uh, I was just thinking..." he begins, a bit uncertain. "You did just save my ass back there... so I was wondering if, you know, you'd let me treat you to, uhh, a coffee or somethin'?"
He figures he might as well go all in at this point, throwing caution to the wind.
"Oh, and uh, I should mention—I'm kinda... new to this city. I've been here for almost a week now, and there's still so many things I gotta figure out, ya know?"
He gives a self-deprecating laugh, running a hand through his messy hair. "So hey, if you're willing, I could really use a local's insight. Plus, coffee's on me."
Iris expression remains maddeningly stoic, but the slightest furrow appears between her sculpted eyebrows as she considers his offer.
"You're... asking me for a coffee date."
The words sound almost like a statement, a challenge. She's clearly suspicious of his intentions.
Isagani winces, realizing his faux pas. He quickly backpedals, raising his hands in a defensive gesture.
"Whoa, whoa, hold up. It's not a date. I swear!" He forces a chuckle, trying to sound casual. "Think of it as... educational. I get info, you get coffee. No strings attached."
He gives her a pleading look, silently praying that she'll give him a chance to rectify his blunder.
A flicker of something—satisfaction? Amusement?—flashes in her eyes. Like she's enjoying how flustered he is.
"Hm."
Another long moment of assessing silence as she deliberates on his offer. She looks him over again, her gaze lingering on his disheveled appearance and nervous body language.
Then, she speaks.
"You're paying, I assume."
He lets out a sigh of relief, his shoulders slumping slightly. Finally, she's agreeing to his offer.
"Of course, of course," he assures her quickly, a lopsided grin spreading across his face. "I did promise coffee, didn't I? You can choose the place. It's whatever you want."
He rubs the back of his head, still slightly flustered. "I'm a rookie around here, so I'm clueless about the good spots."
The corner of her mouth twitches—like she's suppressing the ghost of a smile. She crosses her arms, her expression still infuriatingly flat.
"How about 'The Golden Bean'? It's a few blocks from here. Good coffee and pastries."
It's impossible to tell if her choice of venue is a good or bad sign.
His eyebrows shoot up at the name, his brain instantly conjuring some kind of magical coffee shop with floating beans and enchanted pastries.
"Uh—'The Golden Bean'?" he repeats, blinking. "That sounds... way too fancy for someone like me. Are we talking actual gold in this coffee or something? Because my budget is more 'instant ramen' level."
He hesitates for a second before shaking it off with a grin.
"But hey! If you say it's good, then I'm down."
Iris lets out a small, almost imperceptible sigh—whether at his nervousness or his joke is unclear.
"Just follow me."
Her tone leaves no room for argument as she turns on her heel and starts walking toward the street without another glance back.