The S-Class Mage is a Gyaru!?-Chapter 16: Paired Resonance Trial, Part Six

{Reina}

"I just wish you’d make time sometimes, you know?"

My black-painted nails tap against the railing like a countdown to disappointment. Below me, the school’s floating walkways stretch out from my favorite brooding spot, this third-floor window alcove where I can pretend the world doesn’t exist.

Jun’s sigh crackles through the connection like static.

"Babe, you know I’m busy with student teaching..."

[Yeah, too busy to text me back, but not too busy to like every thirst trap that shows up on your feed. I see you, you bastard.]

"Right." I adjust my choker. Actual silver with protection runes that probably cost more than some people’s cars. Daddy’s money has to be good for something, right? Besides, shit was dangerous nowadays. Feels like every other week the news talk about some dude who’d had one bad day and ended up throwing lightning at everything around him. "Whatever. I’ve got stuff to do anyway."

I hang up before he can respond because fuck that noise sideways.

Below, students are streaming toward the gym like they’re giving away free designer bags. Their excited chatter drifts up even through these bougie-ass windows.

[Must be time for the trial.]

A flash of blonde catches my eye. It’s impossible to miss with those platform Mary Janes announcing her presence like a fucking parade. Akari’s strutting down that path like she owns every inch of marble beneath her feet, her uniform modifications probably sending the student council into collective cardiac arrest.

"Yo, goth princess!" Her voice carries up to me as I descend the stairs, my own platforms clicking a darker rhythm. "Coming to watch me shake shit up?"

That smirk of hers is so fucking annoying, I just wanna... I dunno.

"I guess I should." I roll my eyes but can’t fight back this traitorous smirk. "Someone has to be there to watch you fall on your ass."

"Please, you know you just wanna see all this in action." She does this little twirl that makes her skirt flare, showing off those Diamond Legs stockings. And yeah, I notice how her cock presses against those panties. Sue me. "Can’t blame you."

"No, you’re just still very, very delusional." The smile fighting its way onto my face betrays me completely.

As much as I hate to admit it, sure. There’s something magnetic about her confidence. At least she’s got that going for her, I guess.

"Mhm, whatever you say," she throws me a wink. "Better hurry if you want a good seat for the show."

Thus, she sashays ahead, and I stand there for a moment like an idiot before following. Because apparently, that’s what I do now. Follow this chaos incarnate around like a cat chasing a laser pointer.

[I mean, at the very least this should be funny to watch. She’ll probably fuck up somehow. I should record it for ManaGram or something.]

The gym’s enchanted doors part for me, but something makes me freeze.

My feynal senses go haywire, picking up... something. A human wouldn’t quite get it. It’s like... the cold before a storm, but wronger.

It’s like I just came across magical residue that has no business being here.

I sniff delicately, my ears twitching as they try to parse this shit out. The scent’s barely there under gym funk and teenage desperation, but it’s setting off every alarm in my head. Something sharp.

Artificial.

[The fuck is this?]

Students pack the bleachers like sardines, their gossip echoing off the ceiling:

"Did you see her podcast?" "No way she pulls this off-" "I heard she and that Haruka girl-"

The smell gets stronger near the practice circle. My nose wrinkles, my tail bristles like I just touched a live wire. This isn’t natural magic I’m smelling. It’s synthetic. Manufactured.

[Something’s not right. Really not right.]

But before I can investigate, Sato emerges from his office with Miyuki trailing him like a particularly stuck-up shadow. The student council president’s eyes sweep the bleachers, probably counting sins or something.

I find a spot in the back, crossing my legs and adjusting my skirt. My platforms rest against the bench in front of me as I settle in, trying to ignore how my tail’s still bristling.

Maybe I’m being paranoid. Maybe it’s nothing.

But when Akari struts in with Haruka beside her, both of them radiating that chaotic gyaru energy like a fucking spotlight, I can’t shake this feeling in my gut.

[Well, at least it won’t be boring.]

I pop in my earbuds (matte black, obviously) and wait for whatever shitstorm’s about to break.

And try very hard not to think about how good Akari looks right now.

---

{Akari}

"Ready to fuck shit up?"

Haruka’s hand squeezes mine outside the gym, our fingers tangling. The crowd inside sounds like a storm that’s somehow right next door, and my heart’s doing that weird fluttery shit again.

But I refuse to let it show.

"Born ready, babe." I check my reflection one last time. Perfect waves? Check. Highlighter still sparkling with that expensive-ass enchanted makeup? Check. Uniform giving these basic bitches coronaries? Double fucking check.

We’ve practiced this resonance thing until we could do it in our sleep. Sure, half those "practice sessions" ended with us making out against the wall, but that just made our connection stronger... I think.

"For real though," Haruka’s voice goes soft. Vulnerable. "We got this, right?"

I turn to face my ride-or-die, taking in those worried blue eyes.

"Bitch, we literally did this yesterday. And the day before. And like every day this week between your thirst Gram posts about that hot professor. We’ve totes got this, babe."

That gets a giggle, thankfully.

"Okay, okay. Let’s do this then."

The practice circle’s runes pulse under my platforms as we take our positions. Our shadows stretch across the polished floor while magical lighting makes everything look... well, dramatic as fuck.

I inhale sharply.

[Show time, bitches.]

"Remember," Sato’s crusty voice echoes through the gym like he’s reading from a funeral program, "you must maintain perfect synchronization while manifesting the spell matrix. Any deviation will result in immediate failure."

[Yeah, yeah, no pressure or anything, you dusty old fuck.]

I roll my eyes, adjusting my blazer so my boobs look perfect for my inevitable victory. The bleachers are packed, their whispers bouncing around like ping-pong balls:

"No way they pull this off-"

"Hasn’t been done in decades-"

"Did you see what they’re wearing?"

But something’s... off.

Miyuki and Professor Sato are standing there looking way too pleased with themselves. I know that look. I’ve seen it on every teacher who thought the gyaru couldn’t possibly know the answer, right before I shoved their prejudice right back down their throats.

This is different though. They look too satisfied, like they’ve already won something I don’t even know I’m fighting for.

[Seriously, what the fuck are they so smug about?]

"Begin," Professor Sato commands like he’s announcing an execution.

My hand finds Haruka’s, our fingers interlacing like they’ve done a thousand times before. The touch should send sparks through my body, our mana flowing together like we’re one person, merging into that perfect resonance we hit during practice.

Should have.

[What the actual fuck?]

Something’s wrong.

My magic feels distant, slippery, like trying to grab water with chopsticks. I push harder, reaching for that familiar connection with Haruka, but it’s like something’s cockblocking our magic.

"Having trouble?" Miyuki’s voice drips satisfaction like honey-coated poison.

My eyes snap open. The spell matrix we’re supposed to be maintaining is barely visible, flickering like dollar store Christmas lights.

Haruka’s hand tightens on mine, both of us struggling to maintain any kind of magical connection. But it’s like trying to hold smoke. The harder we grasp, the more it slips away.

I look down at our hands, then back up at the professor and his pet president.

[No. No fucking way.]