It Primarily Surfaces The Essence Of Making It Perfect Yet It Reminds Us That Perfection Comes From Revision,

Chapter 8: Blades and Rivalries

Tw: Mild language

Days had begun to settle into a quiet rhythm once I got the hang of everything—by trying everything. But that didn’t make it any less exhausting.

Now, I find myself walking through the library, where the soft patter of rain against the windows casts a monochrome hue over the space. The dull light filtering in makes everything feel muted, as if the world outside had drained all its color and left only shades of gray behind.

The library is vast, its towering shelves stretching endlessly, yet it holds only a handful of students scattered between aisles. Their presence is barely noticeable beneath the heavy silence.

I wander deeper, trailing my fingers along the spines of old books, savoring the rare tranquility—until it's broken.

A voice rises from the other side of the shelf.

"I still can't believe Hagarin has returned," Liviya mutters, her words laced with something sharp, something bitter.

"Why? Does she bother you?" Another voice responds. Sashenka.

I freeze in place, my ears tuning in despite myself.

"Yeah, she does. I suppose you could say she’s stealing my spotlight." Liviya scoffs, the sound grating against the hush of the library.

My brow arches as I process her words. Stealing her spotlight? I comb through my memories, trying to recall a moment where I had even tried to get involved with her. But I had barely interacted with Liviya—let alone threatened her place in anything.

"What do you even mean by spotlight?" Sashenka asked, her tone laced with curiosity.

"She’s taking the valedictorian spot," Liviya replied, and I nearly choked on my own saliva. Woah. Valedictorian? That was the last thing I expected of myself.

"How are you even so sure?" Sashenka asked, skepticism thick in her voice.

"Because I’ve seen her perform in all aspects, and I must admit—she’s no ordinary student," Liviya said, irritation creeping into her words.

Sashenka sighed. "She’s ordinary. What are you even talking about?"

I heard the faint rustle of pages as she reached for a book, and my stomach twisted in panic. If she pulled that book from the shelf, she’d see me standing right here. Too close. Too risky.

Instinct kicked in—I grabbed the book before she could.

For a second, Sashenka tugged at it, confused, as if sensing an unseen resistance. Then, after a brief pause, she let go with a quiet, puzzled huh.

"You don't get me, Sashenka," Liviya said, irritation creeping into her tone. She was too caught up in her own thoughts to notice Sashenka’s growing confusion as she stared at the book.

"I really don’t," Sashenka scoffed. "You make it sound like she’s some all-powerful, high-and-mighty Hagarin, when really, she’s just doing what any student would do."

"You don’t get me," Liviya repeated, her voice firm.

"Oh, I get you," Sashenka shot back, a grin breaking through. "You’re just as crazy as the rest of them." She let out a hearty laugh, and I stood there, utterly lost.

Crazy? Competing? Me?

I hadn't done anything to rival anyone—I could barely keep up with my own inner turmoil. And yet, somehow, I had ended up in the middle of something I never even signed up for.

Without thinking, I turned and walked away.

I didn’t stop until I was back in the main building. Unlike the quiet halls I had left behind, this place buzzed with life—students moving in all directions, their voices blending into an endless hum.

"You’re here?"

I turned at the sound of Hanari’s voice as she appeared behind me, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

"I was bored," I admitted.

Hanari beamed before looping her arm through mine. "Perfect. Come on!"

Before I could protest, she was already dragging me toward the cafeteria.

She pulled me toward the cafeteria, where the hum of conversation and clatter of trays filled the air. The place was alive—brimming with energy in a way that felt almost foreign after spending so much time in the other department.

I glanced around, taking in the familiar scene. It was nice. Comfortable, even. I hadn’t realized how much I missed this until now. Maybe that other place had drained more life out of me than I thought.

Hanari and I grabbed our food before settling at an empty table just outside the cafeteria.

"I kinda doubt that the only reason you're here is because you’re bored," Hanari said, poking at her food before taking a bite.

I sighed. "It’s the truth. Don’t overthink it." I focused on my own meal, hoping she'd drop it.

"Ironic, coming from someone who overthinks everything," she shot back, giving me a knowing look. "Just tell me. I feel like ‘boredom’ is just the tip of the iceberg."

I hesitated but eventually let out another sigh. Fine.

"Someone doesn’t like me," I admitted.

Hanari paused—then burst into laughter. Loudly.

"I can't believe people over there have the time and energy to hate someone when there aren’t even that many of you!" she cackled. "Like, seriously? They had to go out of their way to despise you?"

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips.

"So? Are you not gonna share the context?" She eagerly waited for me as I sighed. "She said that I have the potential to take the

"The valedictorian spot? I’m clearly just an average student," I said, rubbing my chin before letting out a sigh. "If I were going to compete, it’d only be if I actually had confidence. And honestly? I just hope she won’t be mean to me."

Hanari scoffed. "You can handle yourself in any situation. I doubt you wouldn’t find a way to shut her up the moment she starts spouting nonsense." She nodded, as if already picturing the scene.

"Yeah, but making a big deal out of everything is just a waste of time. For what?" I muttered, shaking my head.

"That’s their problem, not yours," Hanari said simply. "Unless you actually want to take responsibility for something you never even signed up for."

She had a point. I leaned back, mulling over her words before nodding. "I’d only fight back if I have to."

Lunch passed, and I made my way back to the building where I studied, Hanari heading off in her own direction.

While waiting in the elevator, the doors slid open, and as I stepped out, my gaze landed on someone in the hall. He was refilling his water bottle, dressed in an outfit that could only be described as… adventurer-like.

A sun hat—the kind classic explorers wore—sat atop his head, and a camera hung around his neck. His entire attire practically screamed "traveler," though a subtle detail caught my eye. Somewhere on his clothing, a logo of the school was embroidered, almost like a mark of recognition. My eyes lingered on him for a moment longer before walking back to my classroom. 

I settled into my seat just as our professor entered the room, their presence immediately commanding attention.

"We have a visitor today," they announced. "Someone will be offering an opportunity to join the media analyst team."

The door opened, and in walked the same guy I had passed by earlier—the one dressed like an adventurer.

"Good afternoon, everyone." His voice was steady, confident.

"I’m Prince, a member of the media analyst team. I’m both a journalist and an adventurer," he introduced himself, adjusting the camera slung around his neck. "Today, I’m here to recruit students to join our team. In this field, we take on activities ranging from real-world adventures—documenting stories from the outside world—to tackling controversies within the city itself. Everything we uncover, we write and publish in the media."

With a flick of his wrist, a stack of brochures scattered through the air, gliding toward us like leaves caught in the wind. One landed on my desk, and I picked it up, scanning the details.

Almost without thinking, I muttered, "What are the pros and cons of this?"

Silence followed. Did I just say that out loud?

I cleared my throat. "Sorry," I mumbled before quickly lowering my head to read the brochure properly.

A scoff echoed from behind me, sharp and unmistakable. Liviya.

Of course. As if my mere existence offended her. I’ll have to find a way to keep her on her toes.

Prince, however, remained unfazed. "To answer your question," he began, adjusting his glasses with a practiced motion, "the biggest pro is experience—real-world exposure in every aspect. You’ll develop literacy in global issues, gain firsthand knowledge, and sharpen your analytical skills."

He paused before continuing, "However, the cons depending on your personal weaknesses. Some might struggle with the risks, the unpredictability. Others might find the weight of knowledge overwhelming."

I let his words settle in my mind. Exploring the world… that does sound nice.

But leaving home? Maybe that’s where the real downside comes in.

"I’ll return in three days to collect the list of those interested in joining. Please stay tuned for further announcements," Prince said before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

Almost immediately, Sashenka turned to Liviya, who sat behind us. "Are you gonna join?"

Liviya scoffed. "I wouldn’t join if she was in the same room as me. Oh, but let’s be real—I’m too smart to even be there to begin with." She flipped her hair, her tone dripping with self-importance. "Joining a team of journalists to refine political stances and views does sound like a decent choice, but I’m going to be a lawyer. Studying law will sharpen my thinking just fine."

I mentally rolled my eyes so hard I might as well have yanked her hair while I was at it.

"I see…" Sashenka simply nodded, though she stole a glance in my direction. "What about you, Hagarin?"

"I’m considering it," I said casually.

"Ain’t no way!" Clara’s voice shot across the room from the other side. "You’re leaving again?"

I blinked, tilting my head. "I get to leave?"

As if I’d just found a loophole—a perfect escape from this place.

"Oh, but of course," Liviya said, her voice dripping with amusement. "I actually suggest you leave, Hagarin. Maybe people there would find you interesting." She chuckled, her words laced with something just short of mockery.

Sashenka glanced at her but said nothing. No backup this time, huh?

I exhaled slowly, finally turning to face Liviya. "Oh? Was that necessary to say?"

For a split second, her composure faltered—just the slightest crack.

The classroom fell silent. Even Clara, who had been outspoken moments ago, had gone quiet, reduced to a spectator along with the rest. The tension in the room thickened, all eyes flickering between us.

Liviya recovered quickly, offering a play-it-safe response. "Of course, I’m just saying you’d meet more people there."

"As if I’m looking for people to surround me," I shot back, my voice daring her to say what she really meant. "What’s your point, Liviya?"

Before she could answer, the professor’s voice cut through the air.

"That’s enough."

Liviya clicked her tongue. "Tch. Sensitive."

I smirked. "Egotistical.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day, we were gathered in the gym for yet another exhausting activity. Physical combat. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Liviya had somehow decided to turn this into a rivalry—one I couldn’t care less about, yet she still managed to irritate me to no end.

"For the next activity," the instructor announced, "we will be exploring weapons. This exercise is meant to sharpen your skills and help you find a weapon you may prefer. Please take your time testing them before we begin sparring."

I glanced at the collection laid out before us. They were all crafted from wood and other harmless materials—blunt enough to prevent injury but still effective for training.

Reaching into a bag, my fingers brushed against the hilt of a katana. I pulled it out, weighing it in my hands. Not bad. Feels comfortable.

A hushed whisper reached my ears.

"Look at her, using a katana. Isn’t that weird?" Liviya murmured to Sashenka.

Sashenka barely reacted, giving me a quick glance before shrugging it off.

I exhaled slowly, rolling my eyes before casually picking up a small rock and tossing it in Liviya’s direction. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt, just enough to startle her.

Without waiting for her reaction, I swiftly left my spot, making my way over to Clara and Clarence, who were deep in discussion about their weapon choices.

"I saw what you did, Hagarin," Clara chuckled, shaking her head.

Clarence adjusted his glasses. "Liviya’s just looking for any excuse to talk bad about you. A katana is just as useful as any other weapon."

I sighed. "Is she really like that? I almost feel bad for her—arguing with a wall must be exhausting."

Clara raised a brow. "Well, this is a first. I honestly don’t know why she has it out for you either." She picked up a magic book, flipping through the pages. It was the kind designed for combat, filled with spells that could be cast in an instant.

"I overheard her in the library the other day," I admitted. Both of them turned their full attention to me.

"She said I was stealing her spotlight. That I might take her throne as valedictorian." I rubbed my chin, still baffled. "Which is ridiculous. I took months off just to pull myself together. I’m not even caught up yet."

"She’s just afraid of being outsmarted. That’s it."

Ezra strolled toward us, seamlessly joining the conversation.

"Really?" I asked, eyeing him.

Clarence sighed. "You’re back from detention. What did you do this time?"

Ezra let out an awkward chuckle, rubbing the nape of his neck. "Well… I was supposed to prank that egotistical guy in our class by scaring him—but I scared our professor instead. Dang, almost got him. So… yeah." He sighed dramatically.

Clara stifled a laugh. "You’re impossible.""And yeah, about Liviya—she hates being outsmarted," Ezra continued, shaking his head. "She’s been getting on my nerves, too. As if that pretty face of hers makes up for her problematic ass."

"What’d she do to you?" I asked, curious.

Ezra scoffed. "Laughed at me for being mentally unwell. Man, I should’ve kicked her in the face." He groaned, clearly still bitter about it.

Before I could respond, a sharp whistle cut through the air. The professor called us to gather.

"Now that your five minutes of weapon selection is over, we will proceed to picking opponents."

I straightened, gripping the hilt of my katana. Let it be Liviya. I wanted to see her squirm—just a little, just enough to get under her skin.

"Hagarin and Sashenka."

Oh.

Everyone stepped aside, clearing space for the spar.

"The rules remain the same as last time," the professor announced. "If you stay down for five seconds, it will count as a defeat. However, today, supernatural abilities are strictly forbidden. This will be purely physical combat."

I adjusted my grip on the katana, rolling my shoulders as I settled into my stance. Across from me, Sashenka did the same, raising her sword and small shield. A shield? Nice choice.

"Be ready," the professor warned.

The moment the signal rang out, we lunged at each other.

Steel met steel in a sharp clash. Sparks of friction. A test of strength. I dodged a strike, twisting my body to avoid the blade, only for Sashenka to counter just as quickly. We moved like pieces on a chessboard—attack, dodge, counter, repeat.

Each step, each motion, was calculated.

And neither of us was willing to be the first to fall.

Our blades clashed in a sharp burst of motion. Sashenka struck first, aiming for my side, but I parried with the katana’s blunt edge before twisting away from her shield bash. She was fast. I had to admit that. Each swing came with precision, her balance unwavering.

She wasn't just swinging wildly—she was testing me.

I stepped back, dodging another strike before retaliating, slashing toward her shoulder. She blocked it with her shield, the impact vibrating through the air, and shoved me back with a quick push. I skidded a step before regaining my footing.

Sashenka smirked. She's good.

I exhaled. Fine. Let’s speed this up.

I darted in again, feinting to the right before pivoting left, slashing low. She barely raised her shield in time, but the movement left her sword arm vulnerable. Taking my chance, I twisted my grip and struck toward her wrist.

A clean hit.

She hissed, losing her grip for a split second—long enough. I swung again, forcing her to step back, her defense breaking apart. I pressed forward, relentless, pushing her into a corner.

She raised her sword for one final attempt at striking me down.

But I was already a step ahead.

Ducking under her blade, I swept my leg out, hooking behind her ankle. Her balance wavered. A moment of hesitation—just a moment.

Then she fell.

Her back hit the ground hard, sword slipping from her grasp as I stepped forward, pressing the dull side of my katana against her chest.

"One… two… three…" The professor began counting.

Sashenka groaned, glaring up at me before letting out a small, breathless laugh.

"Four… five! Match over!"

Silence filled the gym for a beat before a few murmurs broke out. I exhaled, stepping back and offering Sashenka my hand. She took it, shaking her head as she got up.

"Damn," she muttered. "Guess you aren't as rusty as people think."

I smirked. Damn right.

I glanced at my friends who were silently cheering then to Liviya with a prose of envy. 

That's her problem now. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

2,949 words

Next Chapter

Chapter 8: Blades and Rivalries

Tw: Mild language

Days had begun to settle into a quiet rhythm once I got the hang of everything—by trying everything. But that didn’t make it any less exhausting.

Now, I find myself walking through the library, where the soft patter of rain against the windows casts a monochrome hue over the space. The dull light filtering in makes everything feel muted, as if the world outside had drained all its color and left only shades of gray behind.

The library is vast, its towering shelves stretching endlessly, yet it holds only a handful of students scattered between aisles. Their presence is barely noticeable beneath the heavy silence.

I wander deeper, trailing my fingers along the spines of old books, savoring the rare tranquility—until it's broken.

A voice rises from the other side of the shelf.

"I still can't believe Hagarin has returned," Liviya mutters, her words laced with something sharp, something bitter.

"Why? Does she bother you?" Another voice responds. Sashenka.

I freeze in place, my ears tuning in despite myself.

"Yeah, she does. I suppose you could say she’s stealing my spotlight." Liviya scoffs, the sound grating against the hush of the library.

My brow arches as I process her words. Stealing her spotlight? I comb through my memories, trying to recall a moment where I had even tried to get involved with her. But I had barely interacted with Liviya—let alone threatened her place in anything.

"What do you even mean by spotlight?" Sashenka asked, her tone laced with curiosity.

"She’s taking the valedictorian spot," Liviya replied, and I nearly choked on my own saliva. Woah. Valedictorian? That was the last thing I expected of myself.

"How are you even so sure?" Sashenka asked, skepticism thick in her voice.

"Because I’ve seen her perform in all aspects, and I must admit—she’s no ordinary student," Liviya said, irritation creeping into her words.

Sashenka sighed. "She’s ordinary. What are you even talking about?"

I heard the faint rustle of pages as she reached for a book, and my stomach twisted in panic. If she pulled that book from the shelf, she’d see me standing right here. Too close. Too risky.

Instinct kicked in—I grabbed the book before she could.

For a second, Sashenka tugged at it, confused, as if sensing an unseen resistance. Then, after a brief pause, she let go with a quiet, puzzled huh.

"You don't get me, Sashenka," Liviya said, irritation creeping into her tone. She was too caught up in her own thoughts to notice Sashenka’s growing confusion as she stared at the book.

"I really don’t," Sashenka scoffed. "You make it sound like she’s some all-powerful, high-and-mighty Hagarin, when really, she’s just doing what any student would do."

"You don’t get me," Liviya repeated, her voice firm.

"Oh, I get you," Sashenka shot back, a grin breaking through. "You’re just as crazy as the rest of them." She let out a hearty laugh, and I stood there, utterly lost.

Crazy? Competing? Me?

I hadn't done anything to rival anyone—I could barely keep up with my own inner turmoil. And yet, somehow, I had ended up in the middle of something I never even signed up for.

Without thinking, I turned and walked away.

I didn’t stop until I was back in the main building. Unlike the quiet halls I had left behind, this place buzzed with life—students moving in all directions, their voices blending into an endless hum.

"You’re here?"

I turned at the sound of Hanari’s voice as she appeared behind me, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

"I was bored," I admitted.

Hanari beamed before looping her arm through mine. "Perfect. Come on!"

Before I could protest, she was already dragging me toward the cafeteria.

She pulled me toward the cafeteria, where the hum of conversation and clatter of trays filled the air. The place was alive—brimming with energy in a way that felt almost foreign after spending so much time in the other department.

I glanced around, taking in the familiar scene. It was nice. Comfortable, even. I hadn’t realized how much I missed this until now. Maybe that other place had drained more life out of me than I thought.

Hanari and I grabbed our food before settling at an empty table just outside the cafeteria.

"I kinda doubt that the only reason you're here is because you’re bored," Hanari said, poking at her food before taking a bite.

I sighed. "It’s the truth. Don’t overthink it." I focused on my own meal, hoping she'd drop it.

"Ironic, coming from someone who overthinks everything," she shot back, giving me a knowing look. "Just tell me. I feel like ‘boredom’ is just the tip of the iceberg."

I hesitated but eventually let out another sigh. Fine.

"Someone doesn’t like me," I admitted.

Hanari paused—then burst into laughter. Loudly.

"I can't believe people over there have the time and energy to hate someone when there aren’t even that many of you!" she cackled. "Like, seriously? They had to go out of their way to despise you?"

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips.

"So? Are you not gonna share the context?" She eagerly waited for me as I sighed. "She said that I have the potential to take the

"The valedictorian spot? I’m clearly just an average student," I said, rubbing my chin before letting out a sigh. "If I were going to compete, it’d only be if I actually had confidence. And honestly? I just hope she won’t be mean to me."

Hanari scoffed. "You can handle yourself in any situation. I doubt you wouldn’t find a way to shut her up the moment she starts spouting nonsense." She nodded, as if already picturing the scene.

"Yeah, but making a big deal out of everything is just a waste of time. For what?" I muttered, shaking my head.

"That’s their problem, not yours," Hanari said simply. "Unless you actually want to take responsibility for something you never even signed up for."

She had a point. I leaned back, mulling over her words before nodding. "I’d only fight back if I have to."

Lunch passed, and I made my way back to the building where I studied, Hanari heading off in her own direction.

While waiting in the elevator, the doors slid open, and as I stepped out, my gaze landed on someone in the hall. He was refilling his water bottle, dressed in an outfit that could only be described as… adventurer-like.

A sun hat—the kind classic explorers wore—sat atop his head, and a camera hung around his neck. His entire attire practically screamed "traveler," though a subtle detail caught my eye. Somewhere on his clothing, a logo of the school was embroidered, almost like a mark of recognition. My eyes lingered on him for a moment longer before walking back to my classroom. 

I settled into my seat just as our professor entered the room, their presence immediately commanding attention.

"We have a visitor today," they announced. "Someone will be offering an opportunity to join the media analyst team."

The door opened, and in walked the same guy I had passed by earlier—the one dressed like an adventurer.

"Good afternoon, everyone." His voice was steady, confident.

"I’m Prince, a member of the media analyst team. I’m both a journalist and an adventurer," he introduced himself, adjusting the camera slung around his neck. "Today, I’m here to recruit students to join our team. In this field, we take on activities ranging from real-world adventures—documenting stories from the outside world—to tackling controversies within the city itself. Everything we uncover, we write and publish in the media."

With a flick of his wrist, a stack of brochures scattered through the air, gliding toward us like leaves caught in the wind. One landed on my desk, and I picked it up, scanning the details.

Almost without thinking, I muttered, "What are the pros and cons of this?"

Silence followed. Did I just say that out loud?

I cleared my throat. "Sorry," I mumbled before quickly lowering my head to read the brochure properly.

A scoff echoed from behind me, sharp and unmistakable. Liviya.

Of course. As if my mere existence offended her. I’ll have to find a way to keep her on her toes.

Prince, however, remained unfazed. "To answer your question," he began, adjusting his glasses with a practiced motion, "the biggest pro is experience—real-world exposure in every aspect. You’ll develop literacy in global issues, gain firsthand knowledge, and sharpen your analytical skills."

He paused before continuing, "However, the cons depending on your personal weaknesses. Some might struggle with the risks, the unpredictability. Others might find the weight of knowledge overwhelming."

I let his words settle in my mind. Exploring the world… that does sound nice.

But leaving home? Maybe that’s where the real downside comes in.

"I’ll return in three days to collect the list of those interested in joining. Please stay tuned for further announcements," Prince said before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

Almost immediately, Sashenka turned to Liviya, who sat behind us. "Are you gonna join?"

Liviya scoffed. "I wouldn’t join if she was in the same room as me. Oh, but let’s be real—I’m too smart to even be there to begin with." She flipped her hair, her tone dripping with self-importance. "Joining a team of journalists to refine political stances and views does sound like a decent choice, but I’m going to be a lawyer. Studying law will sharpen my thinking just fine."

I mentally rolled my eyes so hard I might as well have yanked her hair while I was at it.

"I see…" Sashenka simply nodded, though she stole a glance in my direction. "What about you, Hagarin?"

"I’m considering it," I said casually.

"Ain’t no way!" Clara’s voice shot across the room from the other side. "You’re leaving again?"

I blinked, tilting my head. "I get to leave?"

As if I’d just found a loophole—a perfect escape from this place.

"Oh, but of course," Liviya said, her voice dripping with amusement. "I actually suggest you leave, Hagarin. Maybe people there would find you interesting." She chuckled, her words laced with something just short of mockery.

Sashenka glanced at her but said nothing. No backup this time, huh?

I exhaled slowly, finally turning to face Liviya. "Oh? Was that necessary to say?"

For a split second, her composure faltered—just the slightest crack.

The classroom fell silent. Even Clara, who had been outspoken moments ago, had gone quiet, reduced to a spectator along with the rest. The tension in the room thickened, all eyes flickering between us.

Liviya recovered quickly, offering a play-it-safe response. "Of course, I’m just saying you’d meet more people there."

"As if I’m looking for people to surround me," I shot back, my voice daring her to say what she really meant. "What’s your point, Liviya?"

Before she could answer, the professor’s voice cut through the air.

"That’s enough."

Liviya clicked her tongue. "Tch. Sensitive."

I smirked. "Egotistical.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day, we were gathered in the gym for yet another exhausting activity. Physical combat. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Liviya had somehow decided to turn this into a rivalry—one I couldn’t care less about, yet she still managed to irritate me to no end.

"For the next activity," the instructor announced, "we will be exploring weapons. This exercise is meant to sharpen your skills and help you find a weapon you may prefer. Please take your time testing them before we begin sparring."

I glanced at the collection laid out before us. They were all crafted from wood and other harmless materials—blunt enough to prevent injury but still effective for training.

Reaching into a bag, my fingers brushed against the hilt of a katana. I pulled it out, weighing it in my hands. Not bad. Feels comfortable.

A hushed whisper reached my ears.

"Look at her, using a katana. Isn’t that weird?" Liviya murmured to Sashenka.

Sashenka barely reacted, giving me a quick glance before shrugging it off.

I exhaled slowly, rolling my eyes before casually picking up a small rock and tossing it in Liviya’s direction. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt, just enough to startle her.

Without waiting for her reaction, I swiftly left my spot, making my way over to Clara and Clarence, who were deep in discussion about their weapon choices.

"I saw what you did, Hagarin," Clara chuckled, shaking her head.

Clarence adjusted his glasses. "Liviya’s just looking for any excuse to talk bad about you. A katana is just as useful as any other weapon."

I sighed. "Is she really like that? I almost feel bad for her—arguing with a wall must be exhausting."

Clara raised a brow. "Well, this is a first. I honestly don’t know why she has it out for you either." She picked up a magic book, flipping through the pages. It was the kind designed for combat, filled with spells that could be cast in an instant.

"I overheard her in the library the other day," I admitted. Both of them turned their full attention to me.

"She said I was stealing her spotlight. That I might take her throne as valedictorian." I rubbed my chin, still baffled. "Which is ridiculous. I took months off just to pull myself together. I’m not even caught up yet."

"She’s just afraid of being outsmarted. That’s it."

Ezra strolled toward us, seamlessly joining the conversation.

"Really?" I asked, eyeing him.

Clarence sighed. "You’re back from detention. What did you do this time?"

Ezra let out an awkward chuckle, rubbing the nape of his neck. "Well… I was supposed to prank that egotistical guy in our class by scaring him—but I scared our professor instead. Dang, almost got him. So… yeah." He sighed dramatically.

Clara stifled a laugh. "You’re impossible.""And yeah, about Liviya—she hates being outsmarted," Ezra continued, shaking his head. "She’s been getting on my nerves, too. As if that pretty face of hers makes up for her problematic ass."

"What’d she do to you?" I asked, curious.

Ezra scoffed. "Laughed at me for being mentally unwell. Man, I should’ve kicked her in the face." He groaned, clearly still bitter about it.

Before I could respond, a sharp whistle cut through the air. The professor called us to gather.

"Now that your five minutes of weapon selection is over, we will proceed to picking opponents."

I straightened, gripping the hilt of my katana. Let it be Liviya. I wanted to see her squirm—just a little, just enough to get under her skin.

"Hagarin and Sashenka."

Oh.

Everyone stepped aside, clearing space for the spar.

"The rules remain the same as last time," the professor announced. "If you stay down for five seconds, it will count as a defeat. However, today, supernatural abilities are strictly forbidden. This will be purely physical combat."

I adjusted my grip on the katana, rolling my shoulders as I settled into my stance. Across from me, Sashenka did the same, raising her sword and small shield. A shield? Nice choice.

"Be ready," the professor warned.

The moment the signal rang out, we lunged at each other.

Steel met steel in a sharp clash. Sparks of friction. A test of strength. I dodged a strike, twisting my body to avoid the blade, only for Sashenka to counter just as quickly. We moved like pieces on a chessboard—attack, dodge, counter, repeat.

Each step, each motion, was calculated.

And neither of us was willing to be the first to fall.

Our blades clashed in a sharp burst of motion. Sashenka struck first, aiming for my side, but I parried with the katana’s blunt edge before twisting away from her shield bash. She was fast. I had to admit that. Each swing came with precision, her balance unwavering.

She wasn't just swinging wildly—she was testing me.

I stepped back, dodging another strike before retaliating, slashing toward her shoulder. She blocked it with her shield, the impact vibrating through the air, and shoved me back with a quick push. I skidded a step before regaining my footing.

Sashenka smirked. She's good.

I exhaled. Fine. Let’s speed this up.

I darted in again, feinting to the right before pivoting left, slashing low. She barely raised her shield in time, but the movement left her sword arm vulnerable. Taking my chance, I twisted my grip and struck toward her wrist.

A clean hit.

She hissed, losing her grip for a split second—long enough. I swung again, forcing her to step back, her defense breaking apart. I pressed forward, relentless, pushing her into a corner.

She raised her sword for one final attempt at striking me down.

But I was already a step ahead.

Ducking under her blade, I swept my leg out, hooking behind her ankle. Her balance wavered. A moment of hesitation—just a moment.

Then she fell.

Her back hit the ground hard, sword slipping from her grasp as I stepped forward, pressing the dull side of my katana against her chest.

"One… two… three…" The professor began counting.

Sashenka groaned, glaring up at me before letting out a small, breathless laugh.

"Four… five! Match over!"

Silence filled the gym for a beat before a few murmurs broke out. I exhaled, stepping back and offering Sashenka my hand. She took it, shaking her head as she got up.

"Damn," she muttered. "Guess you aren't as rusty as people think."

I smirked. Damn right.

I glanced at my friends who were silently cheering then to Liviya with a prose of envy. 

That's her problem now. 

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2,949 words

You wanna know what I hate? People who don't tag properly, whether it be on AO3, Tumblr, ECT. Tags exist for a fucking reason.

A great example of not tagging properly is a fic I found that was marked "Dazai/reader" so it must be an x reader, right? WRONG! It was a Dazai x AN OC. AN OC WITH A WHOLE ASS NAME.

It pisses me tf off

*Puts them in my pocket*

i love themso mcuh i love themmmm // this took. 3 and a half hours :(

also version w js black outline,, and have their eyss bcuz hearts

<3

this is still the funniest set of panels of all time

Hello Chen! ⊹₊⟡⋆

I’m finally getting back to you about your story—so sorry it took a while, life’s been hectic to say the least! Thank you again for trusting me with your work. 💛

From a storytelling perspective, your story is genuinely engaging. The plot is strong, and I really enjoyed the dynamics between the characters. That said, here are a few areas I think you could focus on:

1. World-building: This is so important for immersing readers in your story. It took me a little while to realize the setting wasn’t medieval, so adding clearer context about the time period, culture, and tech level would really help anchor readers in the world you're creating.

2. Magic system/powers: Expanding on how the magic works would help readers understand the boundaries and possibilities within your world. Consider things like: How is it learned? How does it shape daily life or personal identity? A well-defined system can really deepen the reader’s immersion and raise the stakes in key moments.

For example, in Chapter Seven, you mentioned that Hagarin trained to improve her abilities. I think that’s a great opportunity to show us more—what exactly did she go through to get better? How did it feel, both physically and emotionally? Did she isolate herself during training? Did it change how others perceived her, or how she saw herself? Small moments of struggle or growth here could really enrich her character and make her journey more impactful.

3. Grammar and writing clarity: Personally, grammar isn’t a dealbreaker for me, but I know a lot of readers can be pulled out of a story by clunky phrasing or typos. Tidying up a bit would make the experience smoother and more enjoyable for a broader audience.

To help with world-building and storytelling, I recommend these two YouTube channels—they document the creative process and refining ideas: Channel 1 Channel 2

I follow them regularly, and while my own writing leans more into emotional depth than structure, their content has helped me a lot.

Also, this Instagram reel on character building is super interesting if you’re looking to deepen character motivation and nuance.

And for tools, I’d recommend using Grammarly and Reverse Dictionary—they’ve helped me polish my writing and find more precise wording when I’m stuck.

Writing something entirely original is a huge undertaking, and I really respect you for it. I know for myself, I often work within the BSD universe because the world is already familiar—it gives me room to focus on character and emotion without having to build everything from the ground up. It’s a helpful shortcut when you're trying to connect quickly with readers.

That’s also why I think writing for fandoms can be a great way to grow your audience. People are already emotionally invested in the characters, so they’re more likely to engage. I know it’s a slow process, but I’ve found the payoff in genuine reactions and reader thoughts to be really rewarding.

You’re doing such a good job. Be kind to yourself and keep writing from the heart. We are alive to create and make art—to turn our thoughts, our feelings, and our fleeting moments into something that can be shared, remembered, and felt by others.

Art isn’t just for galleries or perfect prose. It’s in the act of trying. Of daring to shape something from the inside of you and offer it to the world, even if your hands are shaking.

It’s okay if it’s messy. It’s okay if it takes time. Keep going because your voice and your story matter.

Sending you kisses and good vibes, QT <3

HI HI HI!

Thank you so much for the feedback. I’ve been really rereading the chapters I published to see if there are any holes in the execution of every scenario, and I’m thankful you dropped these massive tips that I could apply in my writings! NGL, I’ve been drowning myself in fantasy books or animes lately to get more references and inspiration on how will I refine my story more especially MHA.

I do use Grammarly, and it’s been 5 years since I’ve been using it haha, but the reverse dictionary caught my attention, I will try to use it.

As for chapter 7, upon re-reading it, I was a bit skeptical of myself of why I published it a little too soon because I did too notice the lack of detail and explanation of depts of what Hagarin felt during that time. I will revise it, promises!

I will also revise the chapters where Reneè was explaining the magic system in their world. I’ll refine it soon.

And hey, I used to write fanfics too haha, I just stopped because I found myself afraid of mischaracterizing characters. I’m quite an overthinker. LMAO.

Overall, I’m thankful you left a comment. It felt so much better that I knew I had something to fix. Thank you for the reassurance too in regards of my struggles in writing. ☹️💕

MWAMWMAMWAAA💋

edit: it's okay if it took you awhile. Take your time!

Chapter 1: Present time

This chapter contains themes that may be sensitive to some readers, including:

References to past violenceMentions of death, Light school stress and academic pressure, Brief mention of dangerous creatures and plants (idk how sensitive are yall but hell yeah), Mild language.

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Hagarin's POV After many years, we are finally old enough to leave the institution and live independently in the city. My sisters and I are still together and living under the same roof. I also saw several changes in ourselves as we grew up.

And today, both Hanari and I are 15 years old. We spent years studying within the facility and never had the opportunity to attend a regular school. Now that we are living alone, we can finally attend school. I considered staying at home and do houseworks while my two sisters continue with their studies, but Hanari insisted that I should as well.

We all know that education will always be important in many aspects in lives. 

In the world we live in, survival demands sharp minds—not just sharpened by magic, but by the brutal chaos we humans created for ourselves.

We’re still human, I suppose. Just tainted—twisted by the very magic that makes me wonder: is this still humanity, or were we meant to become something else entirely? 

The world has grown far more advanced ever since magic spread across it. Nothing feels impossible anymore. Some have forgotten where they came from. Others cling to old traditions and beliefs. And then there are those who simply don’t care.

Maybe that’s why the world feels so loud. Everyone’s different now, and no one seems willing to accept what we’ve become.

Look around, and you might see flying cars soaring through the skies of this city. In another, people ride enchanted brooms as their everyday transport. Everything and everyone is different—blended together in a strange mix of magic, machines, and habits.

But here…

I live in a city considered the richest in the world. The nation itself—Aloy—owes its wealth to vast oil reserves. Oil money built everything here. Because of that upper hand, nearly everything is accessible. Magic, technology, luxury—you name it. In Aloy, nothing feels out of reach.

What this city values most, though, isn’t oil—it’s metal. Preserved, traded, revered. I think it’s because the city was once ruled by a god whose very touch could turn anything into metal. Not figuratively—literally. Stone, wood, even flesh. Everything he touched became metal.

And that kind of power leaves a mark. On the land, on the people, on the way we see worth.

But that might not matter now. What matters is that every morning, we follow a certain timetable. I get up early to cook our breakfast, and Hanari and our younger sister will get up early to prepare for school. When they're finished, we'll all enjoy breakfast together. After that, Hanari will wash the dishes as I prepare for school, and our younger sister will assist in putting the plates back in the drawers.

That routine goes on and on everyday.

Sharing what has just happened at the school we attend is stressful, at least for me and Hanari. Our younger sister is stress-free since she is still young and a kindergarten student.

Lately, we have been learning many magic spells, doing scientific experiments, studying a bunch of literature and theses, and many more.

I can say that studying magic spells and doing scientific experiments will help us discover what elemental power we possess.

As I listen to my journalism teacher, I'm fighting the urge to fall asleep. She was now discussing the significance of magic, particularly how it began.

"Magic is important to everyone. No matter how unfair or how much chaos it brings to our lives." she went on to say. "And, in the beginning, the use of magic was legalized as a weapon to defend ourselves, but I have to warn everyone not to be such a prick when it comes to using magic." She giggled, went to the board, and began writing.

"To be exact, 8290 years ago, magic was discovered by a witch," she said, making my focus adjust to her as I listened. I was intrigued. "That witch was none other than Victoria Lemioska." It intrigued the whole class. "Also known as; Victo. Now that you all came to a realization, in all places in the world, her face, and statues are everywhere. As we are all deeply connected with her discovery of the magic," she said before turning to us once again.

"Since Victo is a witch, she first discovered a spell to make a withered plant come back to life." The teacher pulled out a withered rose and used magic to bring it back to a healthy life while it floated in the air. "Victo discovered that spell and named it Resuscitate."

"As time passes by, more spells are discovered by her."

"You can learn it in your spell class."

"But as a journalist, I have seen her notebook filled with magical spells; half of it is forbidden to be used as it casts irreversible damage to anything." She snapped her fingers, making an image of the notebook appear in the air.

We all gazed up, awestruck. It's quite a hefty notepad. Though the object is significantly tarnished due to its age, I can see that the writing on the notepad is still legible and readable to anybody. However, I was attracted by the prohibited magic. I feel that the banned spells are not included in the magic books that are handed to us.

when the image disappeared and the rose landed on her desk. "The notebook was located in our national museum, the Metallica Museum." Our teacher was about to speak again, but then a student raised their hand.

"Ma'am, what about the five major elements?" A student asked.

"The five major elements were discovered by Baili Hermin," our teacher stated. "He was also a journalist like me, and of course, being a journalist requires traveling around the world to explore many things."

"Fun fact, he also used to work under the branch of media analyst, wherein I also work." She proudly claimed. "Moving on, it may sound unrealistic, but Baili met Victoria in a desert. Baili was almost attacked by a lion, but Victo blinded the lion with a spell and took Baili to a cave."

"There's proof, no matter how unrealistic, that Baili's diary was found, and it was also in the museum. He documented his whole journey of travelling around the world, and the most highlighted part of his diary was the discovery of the five major elements."

"He discovered it because of Victo. Baili wrote everything about what Victo said about magic spells, making it more believable that magic spells exist."

"When the article reached many people, the majority of the people started to panic, and out of panic, everyone else planned to execute Victo. The reason is that Victo is nothing but an outcast in the world; possessing magic is absurd and unbelievable."

"And yet, we are here, prone to using magic," our teacher said.

"The elements were discovered when Victo was executed; a light escaped from her chest, making it explode through the sky. It landed on humans, animals, and most importantly, plants."

"Which resulted in why we have species in the forest that are completely dangerous and can harm your life, for example, the flower Rafflesia."

"Before the light landed on that flower, it's just the biggest flower in the world and has a foul odor to attract insects to kill."

"Now it still does its purpose, but it has the ability to stretch away from its position and follow you everywhere in the forest." Our teacher deadpanned making the whole class laughed.

"To make this quick, the five major elements landed on five humans, and those humans are now known to be the gods of those major elements." Our teacher sighed. "We are all aware that the most powerful and rare element to possess is time; in other words, you can control the time, predict what's going to happen, and there are many other signs to feel if you possess one."

"Second is nature."

"Remember, never mess with nature itself, as it was the one that gave us a reason to live in, to breathe in. The ability to possess nature grants you access to control plants and animals."

"But isn't changing the weather also a part of it?" A student asked. "Only the god of nature can do that." Our teacher chuckled. "Come to think of it, the God of Nature has a 15-year streak of absence. Many say that her aura is still around, but many also believe she has passed away, and it's just nature speaking," the teacher sighed.

"Moving on, fire is on the third."

"In my study, fire is always predicted to be possessed by someone who has such a boisterous personality, while the ice one is someone who is...restrained. However, this is just a myth. It is still mostly believed that no matter what personality you posses you'd still get whatever." our teacher summoned her book and it was probably her personalized book. It has a lot of pages and everything that was written in that book was her understanding on how to predict which element do a person possesses.

"ah, here it is." She placed her book on the desk and started reading.

"The element of fire is known to be the most fascinating, exquisite and ravishing elemental of all. It was asserted as one considering a klatsch of people are indulged to play with fire even if it only steers to harm."

"and by all means of harm, it can also be describe as destruction." she finished making the whole class whisper among themselves. "But that doesn't mean to treat someone with disrespect just because they hold that elemental power." She sighed.

THIRD PERSON'S POV

The teacher noticed the change of atmosphere in her class and sighed. "You all probably have forgotten my name but once again, my name is Renée and I hope you all learned something today." Renée glanced at her watch on her wrist.

many students started to protest on her from leaving. They still have a lot of questions with the history but that will all be answered at the next time they see each other again. Renée only stifled a chuckle at the frustrated expression of their students. Curiosity truly made their heads run wild.

"An advance reading on your textbooks won't hurt. Simply just turn your page to chapter 5 and all of your questions will be briefly answered as it provides descriptive explanation to everything." Renée finally exit the classroom.

Once she did, the students in her class opened their textbooks to discover a lot more information. As Renée exit the classroom, she went to the elevator to venture her way to her next class but she was greeted by another teacher; Kyla.

"I see you've gotten your students all pumped up. Quite a headache to deal with." Kyla scoffed as she pressed on the buttons. It only made Renée shrug. "Don't act like you aren't as curious as them when you're at that age." Renée retorted to only make Kyla chuckle and let Renée's tone slide for now. "I assumed you've found someone with a rare element in this class. Hmm?" Kyla's eyes watched Renée's expression from the reflections of the elevator.

"It was such a rare occurrence indeed." Renée remembered Hagarin. "Her eyes are different from the rest. The colors were a lot more dull than the others making it more accessible to assume that she was an extraordinary person." Renée thoughtfully answered. "And this by this she you are referring to, who is she?" Kyla averted her eyes from Renée and focused on the door as it opened. a small ding was heard as they reached the floor. Renée walked ahead of Kyla but spoke before leaving. "Hagarin."

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2,022 words.

Chapter 2

Chapter 5: Of fights, Farewells, and Fools

I woke to the sharp chime of the bell, the sound pulling me abruptly from my daze and dragging me back into reality.

"Time's up," the proctor announced, his voice cutting through the lingering haze in my mind. Right — the gymnasium. I was still here. 

I turned my head, only to find Ezra sprawled unconscious on the floor. Instinctively, I reached out to shake him awake, but before my hand could make contact, a voice interrupted me.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." I glanced up, finding one of my classmates watching me with thinly veiled amusement. "And why not?" I asked. He raised a brow, clearly unimpressed. 

"Are you seriously asking that?" Something about his tone scratched at my nerves. Still, I forced myself to remain calm.

"If you can't answer a simple question, perhaps you shouldn't waste your breath."

"A sharp tongue won't save you from your own ignorance."

"And your refusal to clarify only proves your own." I frowned, though he only responded with a careless scoff. 

"Enough, Maverick," Clarence cut in, stepping between us with the practiced ease of someone used to extinguish petty conflicts. Maverick shrugged, utterly unbothered, and walked away without another word. 

"What's his problem?" I muttered to Clarence. Clarence let out a tired sigh. "He's always like that. Not the brightest socially, but quick to mock anyone who's even slightly out of the loop. Let's just say he finds entertainment in other people's confusion." 

"Charming," I said dryly. 

"Anyway, what do we do about Ezra?" 

"I'll notify the proctor," Clarence said, adjusting his glasses. "And for future reference, you should avoid touching him directly. His abilities are highly contagious — you did learn that from the time-travel session, didn't you?" 

"No," I admitted. "I didn't get that far. The bell rang before I could see anything else." "I see." Clarence gave a thoughtful nod before heading off to inform the proctor, leaving me alone with Ezra's motionless form and the unsettling realization that there's far more to this boy than I ever imagined. I watched as Ezra was hurried off to the infirmary, and with his absence came a flood of questions swirling in my mind. Why is he contagious? The thought looped over and over, each repetition tightening like a knot behind my eyes. 

Before I could stop it, my head began to ache — a slow, creeping pulse that warned me something was coming. 

A vision, maybe. My magic stirring to life. Panic shot through me, and I bolted toward the bench where I'd left my mask, my hands shaking as I slipped it back on. Just in time, too — a fragmented memory was already clawing its way to the surface, blurring my vision and distorting reality. If I hadn't covered my face, I'd probably be the next one dragged off to the infirmary. A sigh of relief slipped from my lips as I sank onto the bench. 

Honestly, I can't even overthink without overthinking the fact that overthinking might actually make me pass out. And somehow, just by trying to figure everything out, I end up drained by my own powers. Truly, fate has a twisted sense of humor. 

"Hagarin~" Clara's sing-song voice rang out as she skipped over and settled beside me. I noticed her monocle wasn't on her face but dangling between her fingers. 

"I saw your face earlier! You're really pretty, you know that?" she said with a bright smile.

"Oh... thank you?" I replied, caught somewhere between confusion and gratitude. She only giggled in response.

"Wait—why aren't you wearing your monocle? Wouldn't that give you a headache if your power activates?" I asked, tilting my head slightly. 

She shook her head with a proud grin. "I've managed to control about ten percent of my power now. It's not much, but it's a lot better than having no control at all." 

"That ten percent lets me shut down a small part of my ability. It only kicks in randomly if I'm feeling really anxious or overwhelmed," she explained, and I nodded along. 

"What about the rest of your power? What can you do at full strength?" 

"Well..." She tapped her chin playfully. "The best part is feeling almost normal—for once. No headaches, no sudden visions of doom. It's peaceful." 

"But why a monocle? Wouldn't it make more sense to cover both eyes if seeing the future is such a problem?" I asked. She laughed softly. "I only have time magic in one eye—my left. The right eye? That one's all nature. Back when I was a kid, I used to keep my mom's plants alive with a flick of my fingers." 

"Speaking of my mom, want to come visit her with me sometime? She's dead, by the way.""...What—oh! I'm so sorry for your loss," I stammered, completely thrown off by her delivery. Clara only smiled, unbothered as always.

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When class hours ended, Clara insisted that Clarence join us, but he politely declined, mentioning he already had other plans. So, in the end, it was just me and Clara. We strolled along the stone pavement, the crisp air mingling with the rustling of trees lining the path.

 I found myself enjoying the peacefulness, a rare moment of tranquility. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Clara hopping along the stepping stones, entertaining herself like a carefree child. "Y'know, Hagarin, I have a feeling you'll end up acing the entire class," she said suddenly, her voice light and confident. 

"I'm not sure if I should believe that, considering we both have the ability to see the future," I hummed, keeping my gaze forward. 

"I'm saying this from instinct, not sight." She spun to face me, sliding her monocle back into place—a clear sign she wasn't using her powers to peek ahead. 

"Right," I scoffed softly. "Why won't you believe me?" she pouted. "You're already better than half our classmates, and most of them barely have two functioning brain cells to rub together. Plus, they're just mean for no reason." "Are they?" I raised a brow. "I guess I never really paid much attention to anyone." The scenery was far more interesting, in my opinion. 

Clara hopped off the last stepping stone and walked beside me. "Have you not noticed Maverick? Or even Liviya? They're not full-blown bullies or anything, but the mess in their heads is loud enough to drown out whatever kindness they might have had. Honestly, they're so chaotic, it's hard to even see them as normal." 

"I suppose they do give me some unpleasant looks now and then," I admitted after a brief pause. "What about the blind girl? I haven't seen her face either. Everyone took off their... stuff during class, but I never caught a glimpse of her," I said, curiously. 

"Oh, Alain? She's sweet, just incredibly quiet. But if you ever get the chance to talk to her, you'll like her," Clara said with a fond smile. 

"She's blind, yes, but her powers let her see everything—every possibility, every shift in time. That's why she wears a blindfold. Without it, her mind gets overwhelmed. Though, from what I've seen, she's making progress."

"That's... actually fascinating. It's like a blessing wrapped in a curse." I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. "Imagine being born without sight, unable to witness the beauty of the world—only to be gifted the power to see everything at once. Still, I'm guessing that's nothing compared to ordinary vision."

I glanced at Clara, my thoughts drifting. "Seeing through the eyes of a time traveler is so strange. For me, it's all washed-out shades of blue, with a slight distortion. Like looking through fogged glass." 

"Really? Blue?" Clara tilted her head. "For me, it's this pale brown haze, almost sepia." She laughed softly. "Maybe it has something to do with our actual eye color."

"Could be," I said, returning her smile. "Just another strange part of our lives, I guess." 

We finally arrived at her mother's tomb. "Hi, Mom. I brought a friend with me today—another new one besides Clarence," Clara said softly as she stepped closer to the grave.

"We learned how to time travel in class today." The tomb itself was well-maintained, adorned with delicate decorations built into the stone. It felt intentional, almost like a tradition that had been passed down through generations. Every small detail seemed to hold a memory. 

I stood beside Clara, quietly listening as she rambled on, speaking to her mother as though she were still right there with us. 

I'd be like that too if I ever had the chance to bury my mother—to care for her tomb and visit her like this. But no, life gave me something far more cruel. A memory I can never bury, no matter how much I want to. 

When it ended, we both lit candles as a gesture of respect, the soft flicker of the flames dancing in the cool air. 

As we slowly walked down the stone path, I broke the silence.

"Clara, if life wasn't so cruel, would you actually enjoy living?" I asked as we slowly made our way down the stone path.She gave a soft laugh, but there was a hint of bitterness behind it. 

"I'm content with my life—even if the word enjoy doesn't really fit anywhere in it. If life had been kinder, I wouldn't have met Clarence... or you."

"Everything that happened today wouldn't have happened. That's just how fate works—we either accept it or keep fighting something we can't change." She paused, looking up at the floating lanterns that were starting to light our way. 

"I know this world of ours is swallowed whole by magic, and sure, anything feels possible—like we're trapped in some cruel fairytale. Hell, reincarnation might even be real for all we know. But even so, I think I like this life. Just... go with the flow. Maybe you'll find a reason to keep going."

"Right," I murmured. "The power to rewrite my past and change the future is right at my fingertips... yet I didn't take it."Clara glanced at me, her expression unreadable. 

"Because you know you'd die if you mess up your timeline."

"Time, fate—whatever people want to call it—it's such a tangled mess," she sighed. 

"Sometimes, I wish I had something simple. Like the power to grow flowers or control fire. Something that doesn't make my head hurt."

"I get that," I said quietly. Neither of us spoke after that. We just walked, both letting out a long sigh at the same time, letting the silence say the rest.

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Later that evening, Clara and I parted ways to head back to our homes. Tomorrow was another day, and honestly, I was relieved this one had finally come to an end. When I stepped through the door, the soft murmur of the television greeted me. 

"I'm home... sorry I'm late," I said quietly, spotting Hanari lounging on the couch. 

"Where'd you even go?" she asked, barely glancing my way as I slipped off my shoes and dropped onto the couch beside her. "I, uh... went with a friend to visit her mom's grave."

Hanari just hummed in response, munching lazily on her slice of apple pie. 

"I don't have any friends anymore, you know. You're never there. Maybe you could come to the main building and have lunch with me sometime? I saw your schedule—you have way more free periods than I do." 

"Can't," I shrugged. 

"Too lazy to walk that far, and the main building's practically on the other side of the campus."Hanari groaned dramatically, flopping back against the cushions like her life was ending.

"What if I just come to your building instead?"

"They probably won't let you," I said, stealing a glance at her.

She groaned again, louder this time, like the weight of her tragic social life was too much to bear. "I look like some lonely loser."

"You'll live," I muttered, grabbing her fork and stealing a bite of her apple pie before she could protest.

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Friday — Sparring Day.

Every Friday, our class dedicates the entire day to sparring practice. It's the only time we're allowed to fully use our powers against each other — under supervision, of course.

We were all gathered at the field, the usual spot for these sessions. I stood at the edge, quietly observing my classmates as they clashed, each person using their abilities in creative or chaotic ways. 

Some were flashy, showing off like they were performing for an audience. Others fought with precision, wasting no movement. Then, the proctor called out the next pair. 

"Hagarin... versus..."There was a brief pause before the proctor continued.

"Oh, Clara." Both of us froze for a second, equally surprised. From across the field, Clara waved nervously.

"Go easy on me, Hagarin!" she called out with a laugh, though there was a flicker of real concern in her voice. We took our places, standing opposite each other in the center of the field. 

All eyes were on us now — classmates whispering, some curious, others already making guesses about who would win. We stood across from each other, the afternoon sun casting long shadows over the field. 

The proctor raised his hand — the signal to begin. Clara didn't waste a second. The ground beneath me trembled as thick roots erupted from the earth, twisting and surging toward me like serpents. I leapt back, narrowly avoiding the first strike, but more followed in its wake, branches splitting off and shooting upward to block my escape. 

She's fast. Faster than I expected.

I darted between the branches, my body weaving instinctively to avoid getting caught. From the corner of my eye, I saw Clara raise her hand — this time, a single rosebud bloomed at her fingertips. 

With a flick of her wrist, the rose shot toward me like an arrow, its petals sharp like blades. It wasn't aimed at me directly — it was after my mask. I ducked just in time, the flower slicing through the air above my head. 

"She's really aiming for my mask?" I muttered to myself. Typical Clara move — clever, but predictable. If my mask comes off, my power will surge uncontrollably, and we both know that could end the match in chaos.

"Trying to cheat already?" I called out, though my tone was lighthearted.

"Not cheating! Just creative strategy!" Clara shouted back, a grin splitting her face as more vines slithered toward my ankles.

I stomped hard, shattering a root just before it wrapped around my foot. If I let her trap me, it's over. The rules are simple — whoever hits the ground and stays down for five seconds loses.

 "Alright," I muttered, cracking my knuckles. "My turn." Clara raised a brow, unfazed, as she unleashed another wave of attacks — every flower she could summon sharpened into dart-like projectiles, whistling through the air toward me.

 I dodged each one with ease, weaving left and right, but just as I landed, something coiled around my ankle. 

A vine. Clara snorted, clearly proud of herself, her confidence radiating as she tugged slightly, tightening the grip on my leg. 

"Gotcha." But this was exactly what I wanted. I kept my back turned to her as she broke into a sprint, closing the distance between us. I could feel the anticipation rolling off her — she thought this was her win.

 That's when I calmly reached up and removed my mask. For the first time, the power I'd always struggled to control worked with me instead of against me. 

Clara's eyes widened in shock as my gaze met hers, the air between us thickening as time itself slowed to a crawl. The vine around my leg twitched, then loosened, retracting inch by inch as Clara's body faltered. 

She stumbled, knees hitting the grass with a dull thud, a soft curse slipping from her lips. I could feel her discomfort, the telltale headache caused when her own time vision clashed with the distortion I created.

 Her powers were fighting mine, and neither of us could fully stop it. Still, all I had to do was keep her down — and slowed — long enough.

"5... 4... 3... 2... 1!"The entire class counted down, their voices echoing across the field.

I took a deep breath, lowering my mask back over my face just as the proctor raised his hand.

"Winner — Hagarin." 

---------------------

"It's fine, really. You don't have to apologize." Clara reassured me, still comfortably seated on the hospital bed.

"Clara! I'm really sorry." I showed up at the infirmary, holding an apple pie as my peace offering. She just smiled, waving off my concern.

"You really did well back there, but didn't I already tell you to go easy on me?" She chuckled softly.

I sat at the edge of the bed, carefully cutting the apple pie. "Well, I'm glad I lost though. Thanks for the food, I guess." Clara added with a light laugh.

The laughter and chatter from earlier had long faded, replaced by the quiet hum of the evening settling in. The sky outside was painted in soft hues of sunset as I walked down the hall, my steps slow and hesitant.

Part of me didn't want to leave Clara alone in the infirmary, but she had insisted I go home, saying her dad would be there to pick her up soon anyway. The halls were practically deserted now — most students had already gone home, leaving only a few teachers and staff lingering somewhere in the building.

Or so I thought.

That was until I heard soft giggles echoing behind me — the unmistakable sound of someone laughing to themselves. And who else could it be but Ezra?

"Don't touch me," I said immediately, spinning around to face him.

He raised both hands in mock surrender, a grin plastered on his face. "I haven't even done anything!"

"You always tense up when I'm around, don't you? Dove, you gotta ease up a little," he cackled, his voice echoing faintly through the empty hall.

I crossed my arms, trying not to let his antics get to me. "What do you even want? And why are you still here this late?"

Ezra clasped his hands together, his smile never fading. "Oh, I got detention — something about almost killing a classmate earlier!" he said, far too casually for my liking.

I raised a brow, equal parts concerned and confused. "Almost killing someone? How did you even come to that conclusion?" 

"Easy! That classmate was Maverick — y'know, the guy who acts like he's the smartest person in the universe but actually reeks of arrogance." Ezra rolled his eyes dramatically before clasping his hands together, voice brimming with exaggerated enthusiasm. "So, to help him fully experience my sincere, heartfelt, emotionally touching anger, I pulled out a pistol when I got close to him."

He even pointed upward like some self-proclaimed intellectual giving a lecture.

I blinked, trying to process the sheer absurdity of what he just said. "Wait—hold on. A pistol? How did you even... What?"

Ezra gasped, clutching his chest like I'd just shattered his heart. "You didn't watch me? Oh, dove, I'm hurt! Absolutely heartbroken!"

I just stared at him, my silence practically speaking for itself. Ezra, on the other hand, stared back at me like a giant question mark had just popped out of his head.

Oh. Right. I forgot — he couldn't even see my face. The mask was still on.

"So...uh, just don't do it again." I finally broke the awkward silence.

"I like whatever is wrong with you — it's fascinating. I'm following you home." Ezra grinned, that usual chaotic glint in his eyes.

"Don't—"

"Too late! Let's go!" Before I could even finish, he grabbed my wrist and practically dragged me along.

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3,429 words

next chapter

And it’d be the most well written one too before you realize it’s not for u💔💔

You wanna know what I hate? People who don't tag properly, whether it be on AO3, Tumblr, ECT. Tags exist for a fucking reason.

A great example of not tagging properly is a fic I found that was marked "Dazai/reader" so it must be an x reader, right? WRONG! It was a Dazai x AN OC. AN OC WITH A WHOLE ASS NAME.

It pisses me tf off