Kota stepped into the elevator, the doors sliding shut behind him with that familiar metallic groan. The hallway light from the 11th floor dimmed as the car started its descent, leaving him alone with the faint smell of old metal and the lingering echo of Beckett's notification pings in his head. He leaned back against the wall, letting out a long breath. His arms still ached from dragging that ridiculous crystal, sweat drying into a sticky film under his hoodie. The phone in his pocket buzzed once, sharp and insistent.
He fished it out. Theo's name lit up the screen.
Kota answered on the second ring. "Hey."
Theo's voice came through soft and a little muffled, like he was lying flat on his back somewhere plush. "Kota. Hi. You busy?"
"Just escaped Beckett's crystal palace. What's up?"
A small laugh from Theo, tired but warm. "Lucky you. Tomorrow's Monday. School. I have to be there. As principal. Which means waking up at, like, actual dawn. I can't do it."
Kota smirked, shifting his weight as the elevator dinged past the seventh floor. "You're the principal. You literally make the rules. Just cancel classes or something."
"I wish. Dad would have my head. He already texted me twice today about 'maintaining institutional presence' and 'setting an example for the younger generation.' Like I'm not literally the youngest person running the place. I'm twenty-two. I should be napping through lectures, not giving them."
Kota chuckled. "Sounds rough. Poor baby, stuck in the big chair with all that power."
"Don't tease. I'm serious. I'm so lazy right now I can't even motivate myself to get up for water. My legs feel like lead. I was thinking of faking a migraine. Or food poisoning. Something dramatic enough that no one questions it but not so bad that Dad sends a doctor over."
Kota stepped out into the lobby, nodding at the bored security guard behind the desk. The evening air hit him as he pushed through the front doors, cool and sharp against his damp skin. "Food poisoning? Bold move. You'd have to commit. Moaning on the phone to the nurse, maybe some fake vomiting sounds. You got the acting chops for that?"
Theo groaned. "I could try. But I'd feel guilty the second someone brought me ginger ale. I'm bad at lying. You know that."
"Yeah, I do. Remember when you tried to tell your brothers you weren't home last month? You literally whispered 'I'm not here' into the phone. They heard every word."
Theo laughed, the sound muffled again like he'd buried his face in a pillow. "Shut up. That was one time. And they were being annoying. Point is, I need an excuse that feels believable but doesn't require Oscar-level performance. Maybe I say I pulled an all-nighter working on budget reports. Technical difficulties with the heating system in my office. Something boring and adult."
Kota started walking toward his building, streetlights flickering on overhead. "You're getting way too comfortable in that cushy principal gig. Used to be you were the one sneaking out of class. Now you're stressing about attendance policies and heating repairs. Look at you, all grown up and responsible."
Theo made a small, indignant noise. "Hey. I am not cushy. I work hard. I deal with teachers complaining about copier jams and parents demanding meetings because their kid got a B-minus. It's not glamorous. It's exhausting."
"Uh-huh. And you have your own parking spot. And an expense account for office snacks. And nobody can give you detention anymore. Face it, Theo. You're living the dream. Meanwhile I'm hauling eight-foot crystals for your weird brother like some unpaid moving company."
Theo huffed. "Okay, fine, the parking spot is nice. But it's not like I asked for any of this. Dad basically strong-armed the board into appointing me after the last principal quit. Said it was 'family legacy.' I didn't even want the job. I just wanted to finish my degree without everyone treating me like a kid."
Kota softened a little. "I know. I'm messing with you. You're doing good up there. Kids probably like having a principal who actually remembers what it's like to be a student."
"Yeah?" Theo sounded pleased, almost shy. "You think?"
"I know. You're fair. You don't play favorites. That's more than most adults manage."
A quiet pause stretched between them. Kota could picture Theo smiling into his pillow, cheeks pink.
"Thanks," Theo said softly. "That means a lot. Especially coming from you."
Kota reached his building, fishing for his keys. "Don't get sappy on me. So what's the plan? You really calling in sick tomorrow?"
"I don't know. Maybe I'll just show up and suffer. Solidarity with the rest of the workforce. Or maybe I'll fake a cough. A light one. Nothing dramatic."
Kota snorted as he climbed the stairs. "You're hopeless. Just go. You'll survive. Principals get coffee machines in their offices, right? Lean into the perks."
Theo laughed again, lighter this time. "True. The espresso machine is elite. Okay, fine. I'll go. But only because you called me out."
"Damn right."
Another beat of quiet. Then Theo's voice dropped, more serious. "Hey. Speaking of family... you still looking after Beckett? He hasn't, like, tried to tie you to the crystal or anything weird, has he?"
Kota paused on the landing, hand on the railing. "Yeah, I'm looking after him. Sort of. I just spent the afternoon hauling his giant rock upstairs and listening to him monologue about photon angles. He's... intense. But he's not dangerous. Just very Beckett."
Theo exhaled. "Good. I worry about him sometimes. He's so far in his own head he forgets other people exist. Thanks for dealing with him. Seriously. I know it's a lot."
Kota shrugged even though Theo couldn't see it. "It's fine. Keeps me busy. And honestly? He's weird, but he's not mean. Just... different."
"Yeah. Different is the nice way to put it." Theo yawned, long and audible. "God, I'm wiped. I should probably—"
A muffled voice came through the line, distant but unmistakable. Hawthorne senior, sharp and impatient. "Theodore! Up here. Now."
Theo sighed. "That's Dad. Board call or something. I gotta go."
"Go handle your empire. Don't let him bully you into staying up all night."
"I won't. Talk tomorrow?"
"Yeah. Text me if you fake that cough. I want updates."
Theo laughed softly. "Deal. Night, Kota."
"Night."
The call ended.
He climbed the last flight, unlocked his door, and stepped inside. The apartment was quiet, Khalil still at his overtime shift. Kota kicked off his shoes, peeled off the sweaty hoodie, and headed for the shower. Tomorrow would bring whatever it brought—school for Theo, more weirdness from Beckett, maybe even a normal day for once.
He turned on the water, letting steam fill the small bathroom. For the first time in a while, the future didn't feel quite so heavy.