The system paused for a fraction of a second before the blue text shifted again.
[CAPACITY SCALE: LEVEL 2 INVENTORY]
0% - 25%: Equivalent to the maximum reserves of a Grade 2 Sorcerer (e.g., Megumi Fushiguro).
25% - 75%: Equivalent to the maximum reserves of a Grade 1 Sorcerer (e.g., Kento Nanami).
75% - 100%: Equivalent to the raw output of a baseline Special Grade Curse.
Reading the breakdown, a slow, genuine smile finally broke across his face in the dark.
A casual wave of his hand dismissed the screen. The interface vanished, letting the dim, comfortable shadows reclaim the room.
Moving quietly back to the bed, he checked on Mai. Her breathing stayed deep and even. He caught the edge of the slipped blanket and pulled it back over her bare shoulder, blocking out the chill of the air conditioner.
He sat back down on the edge of the mattress, resting his forearms on his knees as he watched the last of Shibuya's neon lights fight against the early dawn outside the window.
The soft rustle of sheets finally broke the quiet.
He pushed off the bed and stepped over to lean against the window frame. Behind him, Mai groaned, dragging a pillow over her head to block the morning sun spilling past the curtains.
"Turn the sun off," she mumbled into the fabric.
He let out a quiet scoff. "It's barely past seven."
She tried to sit up and stretch but froze halfway. A sharp hiss slipped through her teeth before she dropped heavily back onto the mattress, squeezing her eyes shut.
"Sore?"
"Shut up," she snapped. She glared at him through a mess of tangled dark hair. "I feel like I got hit by a truck."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
She yanked the pillow off her face and hurled it at him. He snatched it out of the air with one hand and tossed it onto the sofa without breaking eye contact.
Before she could swing another insult, her phone buzzed hard against the wooden nightstand. The harsh rattling sound filled the room. Mai rolled over and squinted at the bright screen.
Her expression dropped. She let her head fall back against the headboard with a hollow thud. "Oh, no."
"Who is it?"
"Utahime." She stared at the vibrating plastic like it was about to explode. Clearing her throat, she braced herself, tapped the screen, and pressed it to her ear.
"Hello?"
Even from a few feet away, the shrill, stressed voice of the Kyoto instructor bled clearly through the phone speaker.
"Mai Zen'in! Where exactly are you?"
Mai winced, pulling the device an inch from her ear. "I'm... in Tokyo, Sensei."
"Tokyo? You were supposed to be on the train back to Kyoto yesterday afternoon! Todo just broke another training dummy, Mechamaru is refusing to leave his room, and you just vanish without a word? Get to Shinagawa Station right now. You have three hours before Principal Gakuganji starts asking questions, and I am not covering for you again!"
"Yes, Sensei. I'm leaving right now. I'm sorry."
She dropped the call and tossed the phone onto the bed, staring at the ceiling in pure defeat.
"Trouble in paradise?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Rubbing her temples, she let out a long, exhausted sigh. "I'm going to be on weapon-cleaning duty for a month. She sounded like she wanted to strangle me."
"Better get moving, then."
She threw the blanket off and swung her legs over the edge. As soon as her bare feet hit the carpet and she tried to stand, her knees gave out. She caught herself on the edge of the nightstand, her face instantly flushing a brilliant, violent red.
He stepped over and picked up her discarded shirt from the floor. Handing it to her, he made zero effort to hide his amusement. "Need me to carry you to the station?"
"I will literally shoot you," she threatened, snatching the fabric from his hand. She refused to make eye contact, quickly pulling it over her head while her cheeks kept burning.
Navigating the morning commuter crowds, Mai's usual confident, runway-model strut was completely gone. She walked with a careful, stiff gait, arms crossed tightly as she glared at anyone who happened to look her way.
He kept close beside her, deliberately shortening his strides to match her slower pace, and casually bumped his shoulder against hers.
"You know, if you just hold onto my arm, it'll take some weight off your legs."
She clicked her tongue. "I don't need help. I'm fine."
Two steps later, she let out a quiet sigh. Uncrossing her arms, she looped her hand through the crook of his elbow and leaned heavily against his side.
"Not a word," she muttered, staring straight ahead.
"My lips are sealed."
They navigated the rest of the way in comfortable silence. Down on the Shinkansen platform, the northbound train was already waiting, its doors sliding open with a soft hiss.
Mai let go of his arm. She stood awkwardly for a second as commuters rushed past, her defensive walls flickering. Looking up, she reached out and lightly grabbed the sleeve of his jacket.
"Hey," she said quietly, her voice losing its usual sharp edge. "Yesterday... it was nice. Really nice."
"Yeah. It was." He smiled, reaching up to tuck a stray piece of dark hair behind her ear. "Text me when you get to Kyoto."
She rolled her eyes, a genuine smile breaking through the exhaustion. "Whatever, idiot. See you around."
She turned toward the open train doors, but before she could take a step, he caught her wrist.
The pull wasn't rough, but firm enough to spin her right back around. She let out a short, startled sound as her momentum carried her squarely into his chest. Before she could process the shift in balance, he dropped a hand to her waist, tilted his head, and kissed her.
It wasn't a quick peck. It was deliberate and grounding, completely ignoring the chaotic blur of the morning commute swirling around them.
For exactly one second, Mai froze. Then, the reality of where they were crashed into her.
She shoved both hands hard against his chest, breaking the kiss and stumbling back half a step. Her face went brilliantly red again. Her dark eyes snapped wide open, darting frantically at the passing salarymen, students, and tourists.
"Are you actually insane?" she hissed in a frantic, strangled whisper. She smacked his arm, though her fingers lingered on the fabric for a second. "We are in the middle of the station! Anyone could see us. Are you trying to get me killed?"
Unbothered by the rush-hour audience, he just smiled and tucked his hands casually into his jacket pockets. "Just making sure Utahime isn't the only thing on your mind today."
Her jaw dropped slightly. She opened her mouth to argue, closed it, and settled for glaring daggers.
"You are the absolute worst," she muttered, taking a quick step backward onto the train. "I hate you. Don't text me."