Sophia lay on the cold floor, tears streaming down her face as voices surrounded her like hawks.

"You don’t belong here!"

"Leave already!"

"Freak!"

She squeezed her eyes – eye – shut, trying to block them out, but the words kept coming. Relentless.

A foot nudged her side – not hard, barely more than a tap – but it hurt. Everything hurt when you were as small as her, and the boys were a lot older than her too.

"Look at her," one of the boys sneered. "Freak with one eye missing."

Laughter erupted around her.

The girl opened her tear-filled eye – the one that remained – and stared at the dirt-streaked floor. She wanted to disappear. Wanted to sink into the stone and never come back.

"Why are you even still here?" another voice spat. "No one wants you here. Everything was more fun when you weren’t here creeping everyone out"

Her small hands curled into fists against the ground.

They were right.

No one wanted her.

Not the orphanage. Not the other children. Not anyone.

The matron’s footsteps echoed down the hallway before her shadow fell across the floor.

"What are you boys doing?"

Sophia’s heart leapt. Maybe this time–

"Nothing, ma’am," one of them answered innocently. "Just playing a game."

The matron’s gaze swept over the scene.

Sophia curled on the floor, tear tracks still wet on her face, the boys standing in a loose circle around her.

The scene was obvious.

The matron’s expression shifted.

Disdain.

She looked at Sophia the way someone might look at an annoying insect buzzing around their home, then turned her back.

"Be careful, boys. Don’t make a mess."

The words landed like stones.

Sophia’s remaining eye burned, but she refused to cry again. Refused to give them that.

The matron’s footsteps faded.

Of course no one would help her.

The children hated her because she was different – the freak with one eye.

The adults hated her because of what her parents had done.

Criminals, she knew, but she didn’t know their exact crime. 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

Whatever crime they’d committed, though, Sophia had clearly inherited the punishment.

She gritted her teeth and endured.

Eventually, boredom settled over the bullies.

"This is stupid," one muttered.

"Yeah. Let’s go. She’s not even reacting."

They drifted away, their voices fading into the orphanage’s perpetual gloom.

Sophia let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through her. She stayed on the floor a moment longer, listening to make sure they were truly gone.

When she finally lifted her head, she spotted them across the common room, circling someone else.

A boy.

Sophia had seen him a few times since he’d arrived – quiet, always reading, never speaking to anyone. The same bullies who’d just left her now surrounded him, already testing, already probing for weakness.

The boy sat with a book open on his lap, his face completely blank.

It was always like that.

Sophia didn’t think she’d seen him make a single expression since he arrived.

"Hey! I’m talking to you!"

Nothing.

The boy didn’t flinch. Didn’t react at all.

One of the bullies snatched the book from his hands.

Still nothing.

The boy just stared at them, expression unchanged, as if he genuinely didn’t understand what they wanted from him.

Then he stood.

The bully flinched.

The boy looked down at him. It wasn’t a threatening gesture, not angry either. But still, the way he looked at them with that uncanny expressionless face caused the bullies to flinch.

"May I have my book back, please?"

His voice was calm. Respectful, even.

The bully hesitated, then shoved the book back at him.

"Whatever. You’re not worth our time anyway."

They left.

The boy sat back down, looking more confused than pleased, and opened his book again.

Sophia stared.

Then she mustered up her courage, and started walking towards him.

Sophia’s legs shook as she approached the boy reading.

Every step felt like dragging herself through mud, but she kept moving.

He didn’t look up when she stopped in front of him.

She opened her mouth. Closed it.

"Um–"

"If you want my book, you will have to wait until I am finished reading."

His voice was flat.

Sophia blinked. "What? No, I don’t – I don’t want your book."

The boy paused mid-page. His finger hovered over the text.

Then he looked up at her.

"What happened to your eye?"

Sophia flinched, instinct yanking her hand toward the scarred socket before she stopped herself.

"My mother... stabbed me. A few years ago."

She knew it was the wrong thing to say, but she didn’t have the energy to lie.

The boy stared at her.

"I see."

Then he returned to his book.

That was it.

No pity. No disgust.

Just I see, and back to reading.

Sophia stood there, stunned.

"You’re... not shocked?"

"I just don’t care that much," he said without looking up. "I only asked because I read it was common courtesy."

For some reason, that didn’t bother her, even though it probably should have.

Not caring was better than hate. Everyone else had hated her – her mother, her father, the matron, the other children.

If he didn’t care, that was a step in the right direction right?

"What’s your name?" Sophia asked.

"Ren."

Silence.

Sophia waited, but he didn’t ask hers back.

"I’m Sophia."

Still nothing.

She frowned. "You know, if you’re interested in common courtesy, you should have started by asking my name, not about my eye."

Ren’s gaze snapped up.

For the first time, he looked interested – though his expression remained perfectly blank.

The attention unsettled her, but she pushed forward.

"Asking about my eye first thing might actually come off as rude rather than common courtesy."

Ren blinked.

"I didn’t know that. I apologize then." He paused, then added, "Thank you for telling me."

Sophia didn’t know how to respond to that, and she just fidgeted.

"Sure," she managed with a nod.

An awkward moment passed.

"Why are you at the orphanage?" She asked suddenly, the awkward silence bothering the young girl.

She regretted it immediately.

Of course he’s here because he lost his parents. That’s why everyone is here. What a stupid thing to–

"Is asking questions like those customary as well?"

Ren tilted his head slightly, watching her with genuine curiosity.

Sophia blinked.

He wasn’t offended, thankfully.

He was... asking. Like he was looking to her for advice.

She coughed into her hand awkwardly. "T-that’s right."

Ren nodded slowly, as if filing the information away for later use.

"I am here because I killed my parents."

—

"Grace!"

Grace’s head remained down, forehead pressed against the cool desk surface.

"Grace Light!"

Her eyes snapped open. She bolted upright, chair scraping loudly against stone.

The classroom.

S-Class students all turned toward her.

Selene Voss stood at the front, arms crossed, her expression sharp enough to cut steel.

"Welcome back."

Grace rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. "Sorry, Instructor Voss. I didn’t sleep well last night and–"

"You’ll run extra laps when we reach the sparring grounds."

Dread pooled in Grace’s stomach.

Not again.

Her legs still ached from yesterday’s penalty.

She glared at Selene, but the instructor had already turned back to the board, continuing her lecture on mana pathway optimization as if nothing had happened.

Grace forced herself to sit straighter, blinking hard to chase away the dryness in her eyes.

Stay awake. Just stay awake.

But even as she focused on Selene’s voice, her thoughts drifted back.

The dream. Again.

She’d had it last night too. The orphanage. The bullies. Ren.

Why was she suddenly thinking about him? After all these years, after everything that happened, why now?

Grace already knew the answer.

She’d been trying to ignore it since the Inter-Class War, but spending time in the same classroom made avoidance impossible.

And that’s when she realized what was bothering her.

Her gaze drifted across the room until it landed on Ronan. He usually sat with Kazuma and Elara – although Kazuma was absent today – two characters she barely wrote about in her novel.

Grace had noticed it earlier – during the war – but she couldn’t place it then.

Now, sitting close enough to watch him properly, she recognized what had been bothering her.

It was the look in his eyes.

The look in Ronan’s eyen, even as he smiled and laughed with Elara and Kazuma.

It wasn’t just similar to Ren’s.

It was exactly the same.

But Grace had already long moved on. She didn’t care about Ren anymore. She didn’t care about any of that.

Ronan wasn’t Ren.

She couldn’t avoid him just because he reminded her of someone from her previous life.

There was a lot more at stake now.

She had to find out what he knew.

Ronan suddenly glanced at her, and those eyes pierced through her soul.

She turned away instantly.

Today was Friday right?

Yeah, she’d take the weekend to decide what she was going to say.

Preparation is important. Yep. Monday it is.