The halls of Rikuto Academy buzzed with the usual morning energy—laughter, footsteps, and chatter echoing through the pristine corridors. But today, something different stirred beneath the surface, a subtle shift like a ripple in a calm pond.
Toma Yukishiro pulled his black beanie lower over his forehead, the fabric brushing just above his glasses. The tinted lenses hid his eyes well enough, but he still felt the weight of every gaze like a spotlight. Two months after the school year began, transferring here felt like stepping onto a stage without a script.
His grandparents had urged him to come, friends of the Rokuhara family, and now here he was—walking into the prestigious Rikuto Academy, a place whispered about in both reverence and fear for the Aegis Arts training within.
The corridors seemed endless, unfamiliar faces everywhere. Students whispered and glanced his way, curiosity mixing with judgment. Toma's fingers tightened around the strap of his backpack. He wanted to vanish, to sink beneath the floorboards.
Then, from the crowd, a familiar voice cut through the noise.
"Toma? Is that you?"
Keiji Rokuhara, his childhood friend, stepped forward, a wide grin splitting his face. His casual stance and easy smile felt like a lifeline.
"Took you long enough to show up," Keiji joked, elbowing him gently. "I figured you'd be hiding forever."
Toma's lips twitched into a rare smile. "It's not like I planned to be late."
Keiji glanced around as a few students turned to look at them. "Don't sweat it. Everyone's curious about the new transfer, but with me around, you'll be fine."
They walked together down the hall, the weight of the beanie and glasses starting to feel lighter.
Toma looked up at the towering academy walls. This was the start of something new — and maybe, just maybe, a chance to find his place again.