It was Friday morning, the Peni Family villa's gates slid open with a soft metallic hum as the black sedan pulled away onto the quiet residential street of northwest Bakju. The early morning light danced across the windshield, casting patterns onto the pale leather seats.
Jun sat with his arms folded, school blazer crisp, tie perfectly aligned. Beside him, Araka was still adjusting her blue tie of her sailor style school uniform with one hand, brushing her bangs out of her eyes with the other.
The car was quiet—until Jun exhaled sharply: "I did have to wake you up," he said, matter-of-fact.
"I know," Araka replied, without looking up.
"You were completely unconscious. You missed two alarms, two loud ones. Even mom said she could hear it while preparing her breakfast downstairs."
"I know that too."
"You were halfway off the bed, wrapped in your blanket like a mothball."
"And that, I didn't know."
Jun narrowed his eyes slightly.
"And I did walk in. You weren't exactly dressed."
Araka, now satisfied with her collar, leaned back against the window and replied evenly:
"…I was wearing some clothes."
Jun blinked.
"You were in your underwear."
"I said some clothes," Araka repeated, tone dry. "It's not like I was staging a performance."
Jun sighed: "Most girls would scream. Or throw a pillow."
"I'm not most girls," she said flatly. "And I was out of time. You think I care about that when I'm five minutes from missing check-in?"
There was a pause.
"…You really are SAIR material."
Araka smirked faintly, eyes still closed as she leaned her forehead against the window: "SAIR's lucky to have me."
The gates of Vensan Academy stood tall in the morning sun, carrying the buzz of arriving students. Lined in red brick and flowering hedges, the courtyard was already filled with laughter, backpacks, and the clatter of shoes on pavement. The navy-blue sailor-style uniforms shimmered faintly under the light, fluttering slightly in the breeze as students moved toward the main hall.
Araka, freshly adjusted but still sleep-hazy, stepped out of the car behind Jun and shouldered her bag with quiet determination.
She barely took three steps before a familiar voice called out across the walkway:
"Araka-sa!"
Omikare Anikara—the dark-skinned, vibrant-eyed, and practically glowing with morning energy—rushed toward her with two books in one hand and a half-eaten breakfast bar in the other.
She skidded slightly in her school shoes but caught herself with a grin.
"Where the heck have you been these days?" she asked, giving Araka a light tap on the shoulder. "I checked the homeroom list and thought maybe you transferred to another class or got abducted by those who got envious of your wealth."
Araka offered a half-smile: "I've been… caught up in extracurricular stuff. Things stretched longer than expected."
Anikara raised an eyebrow. "Must've been some activity. You even missed the first track and field training session —first time in a year I've seen that team without your smug warm-up stretch."
"I wasn't smug," Araka muttered.
"You were elegant-smug."
Araka sighed: ""It was slightly unexpected. The timing didn't align."
Anikara grinned and waved it off: "Ay, you'll be fine even if you miss some lectures. You're one of those people who can nap through a quiz and still pass." She tapped her own forehead with the breakfast bar. "Unlike me, who fails if I miss a single math note."
Araka didn't respond immediately. She looked ahead at the morning crowd—the laughter, the bright uniforms, the world that felt like it was drifting farther from what she now understood.
Then she looked back at Anikara, and her smile returned—just enough.
"Well," Araka said, "I'm back now, as Araka, as always."
—
The rooftop garden of Vensan Academy's main building was open for lunch that day—a wide space with benches, scattered tables, and flowering vines curling up the brick fence. The Sepeterm sun was warm but not harsh, as the breeze carrying the sound of distant chatter.
Aqua had already claimed a spot near the low wall. She opened her immaculately arranged lunchbox on the table: perfectly shaped fried fish cake, blanched greens, a wedge of golden egg, a single sausage cut to resemble a flower, and plain rice sprinkled with some dried seaweeds on top.
Across from her, Araka sat with a much simpler meal—a whole-wheat sandwich loaded with chilled cheese and two boiled chicken breasts, cut diagonally, with the paper wrap half peeled back.
Anikara, as always, was the last to sit down—plopping down with a grin and a heavier lunch container, already half-open to reveal grilled meat strips, rice, and crunchy pickled radish on the side.
"This is what I live for," Anikara declared, taking a big bite. "Meat is justice."
Aqua, without looking up, softly muttered, "You said that yesterday too."
"Because it's still true."
Araka chewed quietly, listening to the exchange with a faint smile.
Then a shadow passed beside the bench.
Otanaku Leana, in her school uniform, with her long purple hair swinging around, held a small wooden lunchbox in her hands. She looked calm as ever, but her eyes scanned the group before stepping closer.
"Mind if I join?" she said, in her iconic soft voice.
Anikara gestured toward the empty spot with her chopsticks. "Sure, Leana. There's still room."
Leana sat gracefully, opened her own lunch: two rice balls, wrapped in seaweed with gentle folds, steamed vegetables arranged in soft colors, and a glazed slice of fish placed just off-center. She looked over at Anikara's tray with a slightly amused expression: "You eat that much meat every day and still stay in top condition?"
Anikara grinned, lifting a strip with her chopsticks. "Sprinting burns everything, trust me. If I don't eat like this, I'll pass out before fourth period."
Leana turned her gaze slightly. "I like Aqua's lunchbox," she said simply.
Aqua, who had just taken a bite, froze slightly—then turned her head down, her face partially hidden behind her chopsticks.
"…Th-thank you," she muttered, not looking up, and refocused all her attention on her rice.
Leana smiled gently and didn't press further.
Araka, still chewing, leaned back against the bench and let herself breathe for once. No Matake sensors. No Matake field. Just the weight of sunlight on her shoulder and the quiet rhythm of lunch with old friends—one of whom might know more than she ever let on.
The sun was still warm on the school terrace, casting gentle shadows across the girls' half-finished lunch boxes. The breeze had picked up slightly, carrying the faint scent of dried leaves and chalk dust from the sports fields below.
Leana, after finishing her rice ball, looked up at the group with an almost casual air: "By the way," she said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, "do you all know how to pace yourselves in swimming?"
Anikara raised an eyebrow mid-chew. "Like… not drowning?"
Leana smiled. "I used to work part-time as a lifeguard and instructor at a pool, though not here. We trained pacing drills and breathwork routines."
"I used to swim a bit," Araka said, careful. "Not competitively. Just… practice."
Leana tilted her head slightly. "How much?"
"I can do 200 meters without stopping. Never really checked for time."
Leana nodded with approval. "That's already solid. Most people can't maintain form past 100."
Anikara leaned back with a stretch. "I'm all sprint and solid ground. Water's not my thing unless it's a shower after track practice."
They laughed softly.
Then Aqua, who had been quietly rearranging her lunchbox, suddenly spoke—not to anyone in particular.
"…There's this lyric," she said softly. "It goes: 'The silence under water is louder than any stage.'"
The others paused.
Leana blinked. "That's from a song?"
Aqua nodded, eyes still on the food container. "Well, it's - something I wrote. Kind of."
Anikara gave her a playful nudge. "You keep saying you're in a band, but no one knows where or what it is. You're a musical ghost."
Aqua smiled faintly. Then, without another word, she stood up—graceful, quiet, and already walking away with her lunchbox in hand.
Araka watched her go, brows faintly drawn. "...She's okay?" she asked, just loud enough for the others to hear.
Anikara shrugged. "That's Aqua. She disappears like a mist. Shows up with lyrics and fish cake. Then gone again."
Leana's gaze lingered a little longer in the direction Aqua had gone.
Then she turned back.
"So. Anyone interested in swimming this weekend? I knew a spot I found that works - West Bakju Aquatic center"
–
Meanwhile, down in the hallway, Chetan stood in front of the student council door, organizing a stack of sign-up forms. She wore her hair tied up today, with a simple clip holding back her fringe. Her expression was focused—until the door slid open.
Sukeo stepped in, blazer slung over one shoulder, looking as unreadable as ever.
"President Sukeo," Chetan said, turning quickly. "You're finally back."
He nodded. "Sorry. Extracurricular activity. Unscheduled."
Chetan raised an eyebrow, but didn't press.
"You didn't tell us anything."
"I told the school I'd be away for a few days. They approved it."
"They told me they're okay with it," she replied, placing the papers down, "as long as you show up during major ceremonies. You are the student council president, after all."
Sukeo gave the faintest smirk.
"Noted."
Chetan softened a little. "Just… don't vanish like that again. We're behind on class budget drafts."
"I'll catch up."
"You better."
–
The girls started packing up their lunch as the bell chimed gently across the courtyard.
Anikara slung her bag over one shoulder and looked at Araka, teasingly.
"Seriously though, you blanked a bit when Leana mentioned West Bakju. You good?"
Araka adjusted her sleeve. "Yeah, just remembered… that's where the pool I used to go to was."
Leana smiled, clicking her lunchbox shut. "Then we've definitely crossed paths, maybe right before this semester when I moved here. From now on, I gave lessons every Saturday for a while."
"Maybe," Araka replied, casually. "I was just there to swim laps and avoid eye contact."
Anikara laughed. "You're still like that."
"I've evolved. Now I avoid eye contact strategically."
Leana chuckled softly. "If we go this weekend, I'll see how many laps you've got in you now."
Araka rolled her eyes but smiled.
The sun was dipping low by the time Jun and Araka stepped through the school gate together. The breeze had cooled, brushing past the rows of lined cherry trees near the academy fence. School bags slung over their shoulders, they walked without urgency, the late afternoon light turning their shadows long and thin.
Jun adjusted the strap on his bag and glanced sideways.
"How'd it feel?"
Araka looked up. "What?"
"Being a civilian again."
She paused, considering.
"…Nothing too special," she said after a moment. "Class was the same. Anikara's still loud. Aqua still doesn't finish her lunch. But…"
She adjusted the hem of her uniform skirt. "I do need to come up with better excuses for absences."
Jun gave a short breath of amusement. "You mean 'intern field activity' doesn't work as a note to homeroom?"
"It barely works on Aqua."
They walked a few steps more before Jun spoke again, this time quieter.
"…I feel the same. It's like everything's normal, but slightly misaligned."
"Because it is."
Jun nodded slowly. "And if anything does happen at school…"
Araka didn't finish his sentence.
She didn't need to.
They both knew what they'd have to do.
Jun looked up at the rooftops silhouetted against the gold sky.
"Let's just hope it stays quiet," he said.
Araka, quietly, replied, "For now."
–
The indoor pool complex at West Bakju Aquatic Center shimmered under soft skylights, the sunlight filtered through foggy glass panels above. The soft slap of water echoed through the air as families and swimmers gathered across the various lanes.
Araka stepped out of the locker room, already tied her hair up to fit inside a swimming cap. Her Novak-branded suit hugged her frame neatly, the pattern of water lines along the fabric catching the light with every step. The Novak logo stood clean and centered on the front—familiar to anyone who followed sports brands. It was clearly a competitive-style suit, tight to the form but sharply cut, her goggles already resting on her cap.
"Wow, Sara-cha, you really do look like a competitive swimmer in that," Leana, from the edge of the water while already stretching in her own clean-cut grey Asumi swimsuit, said. "Novak suits are pretty high-end."
Araka shrugged. "It's just what I've always used."
Anikara, adjusting her sportier two-piece nearby, pointed with her water bottle.
"Hey, wait. Isn't Novak, like, your family's company?"
Araka nodded, mildly. "Yeah. My mother runs the company. I get the sample suits sometimes."
Leana raised an eyebrow. "You didn't think to mention that?"
Araka gave a neutral blink. "Didn't seem important."
Anikara grinned. "You're wild. If my family owned a sportswear brand, I'd have custom sprint shoes and neon logos stitched into my warmups."
"I don't even pick the colors," Araka added.
"And that's even wilder."
Anikara did a quick bounce on her toes and huffed. "Wish someone had warned me before I grabbed this two piece set."
"You look fine," Araka said. "You're not racing. You're stretching."
"I'm trying to survive in the world where everyone here is having master strikes in the water."
Leana giggled. "She's right. You just need to stay above water."
"I always stay above water!"
As the three stepped toward the pool edge, Aqua was already sitting nearby on a bench, her legs swinging slightly and her earbuds in. Her swimsuit was of graphite grey with the golden Novak logo, tucked under an oversized towel. Araka, upon recognizing the cut, knew that it might be one of the models her family helped develop.
Anikara looked over. "Aqua, are you not swimming?"
Aqua didn't look up. "Maybe later."
As the warmup concluded, Araka, with her cap worn and goggles adjusted, stepped out near the edge, a water towel draped loosely over her shoulder, her swimsuit glistening faintly under the lights. The Novak logo stood clean and centered on the front—familiar to anyone who followed sports brands. In the water, it was clearly a competitive-style suit, tight to the form but sharply cut, her goggles already resting on her cap.
Leana, already stretching by the pool, glanced over and let out a light, impressed breath.
"You really do look like a competitive swimmer in that," she said. "Novak suits are pretty high-end."
Araka shrugged. "It's just what I've always used."
Anikara, adjusting her sportier two-piece nearby, pointed with her water bottle.
"Hey, wait. Isn't Novak, like, your family's company?"
Araka nodded, mildly. "Yeah. My mother runs the company. I get the sample suits sometimes."
Leana raised an eyebrow. "You didn't think to mention that?"
Araka gave a neutral blink. "Didn't seem important."
Anikara grinned. "You're wild. If my family owned a sportswear brand, I'd have custom sprint shoes and neon logos stitched into my warmups."
"I don't even pick the colors," Araka added.
"Even wilder."
Leana smiled softly. "Still. Novak makes good gear. I may even consider purchasing one since everyone in the competitive level is using that."
Araka tilted her head. "Guess we've been on parallel swim lanes."
The water shimmered under the indoor lighting, gentle ripples spreading as the girls slid into the lane. The cool touch of the pool wrapped around Araka like her second kin. Leana, stood at the edge with her stopwatch in hand, one foot dipped in, giving light instructions.
"Take your time, no pressure. Just show your pace."
Without a word, Araka pushed off the wall.
Her stroke was smooth—not flashy, not competitive level, but efficient. No wasted energy. Her body cut through the water with steady rhythm, her breathing evenly timed. She turned after the first lap, gliding into the second without pause.
When she surfaced at the end of her lap, brushing water from her eyes, Leana nodded in approval.
"You've really got good form. Your pace is calm, but you hold it well."
Araka blinked water from her lashes. "I guess it's just because I don't want to waste the swimsuit."
Leana smiled. "That's a Novak mindset."
Araka rolled her eyes slightly. "It cost nothing for me. Still feels like it'd be disrespectful not to use it right."
Then came the splash.
Anikara, who had just jumped in at the far end, was paddling down the lane with enthusiasm. Big strokes, scattered kicks, a lot of water going everywhere—but not a lot of forward momentum.
By the time she reached the end of the lane, she half-clung to the edge, panting.
"Okay. That's it. I am not built for this. Give me spikes and dry ground any day."
Leana crouched down next to her, chuckling. "You still swam the full lap. That already puts you ahead of a lot of people."
Anikara grinned, still catching her breath. "Cool. Then I'm retiring from the pool forever. One-lap career."
Araka offered her a towel. "Your splash radius is record-breaking, though."
"Thanks. I aim to be a hazard."
Now, Leana, putting away her stopwatch, jumped in with her own Asumi swimsuit. She clung onto the wall beside Araka: "I'm going to show you what a proper swimmer would do."
Just as three were in the water, a soft ripple moved across the far side of the lane - Aqua, almost unnoticed, had slipped into the water.
Her swimsuit—sleek, deep navy with minimalist golden striping—hugged her frame with the signature Novak competitive model design. The logo was slightly smaller than Novak's pratice model, but unmistakable.
Araka narrowed her eyes slightly: "That's one of the high-tier Novak models."
Anikara leaned over the railing while staring at Aqua with shock: "Wait—Aqua, you have that? Since when do you even swim?"
Aqua, adjusting her goggles with quiet precision, replied softly, "I saw it online last month. Thought it looked nice."
Anikara tilted her head. "So you just… bought it?"
Aqua nodded. "I liked the design. It felt trendy."
Araka added, matter-of-factly, "That's the kind used for federal level teams. Optimized material, pressure-mapped seams, and refined textures for minimising resistance."
"Ah," Aqua replied, blinking once. "Explains the price."
Then, without another word, Aqua pushed off the wall.
Her stroke was clean—but her speed? Roughly Anikara level.
A lot of splashing. A bit too wide with the kick. Breathing that broke rhythm. By the end of the lane, she popped up, blinking water out of her eyes.
Anikara burst out laughing: "Oh my god, Aqua—you looked like a champion, but that was exactly my pace."
Aqua shrugged, voice perfectly even. "Well, I never said I knew how to use it. Just that I liked it."
Leana chuckled while balancing herself in the water. "I think I'll buy that one next. You make it look good."
Aqua turned her face slightly toward her towel. "…Thanks."
Araka let out a soft laugh too, arms folded at the pool edge: "She always picks the expensive ones."
After the swimming session, the girls sat on the edge of the wooden deck beside the pool, wrapped in towels and sipping from paper cups of vending machine lemon tea. The echo of water still lingered in the background, faint beneath the late afternoon light slanting in through the windows.
Araka leaned back on her palms, her legs still damp.
"At the very least," she said, glancing over at Aqua, "you proved the design works."
Aqua looked up from her cup, blinking.
"That Novak suit's legit. If it can take you from casual to 'solid effort' level, then the engineering's worth the price," Anikara commented, while glancing at Aqua's now soaked swimsuit.
Meanwhile, Araka added, offhanded but sincere, "I'll cover the difference. Between that and standard gear. Since it's technically from my mom."
Aqua blinked again—this time not from surprise, but from something quieter: "…Thanks."
She said it almost under her breath, but this time she didn't look away. Just a small nod, towel tugged a little closer: "I wore it today because of… the band."
Anikara tilted her head. "Wait. Band? Since when are you in a band?"
"I can play guitar," Aqua said softly. "And I joined an underground group last month."
Araka raised an eyebrow. "Underground as in off-campus?"
Aqua nodded. "Next show's small. Warehouse setup. I wanted to wear something that matched the sound. Something that felt… precise. Tense. But not forced."
Anikara squinted. "And you landed on a competitive swimsuit?"
Aqua nodded again.
There was silence.
Then Anikara just let out a half-laugh. "Okay, that's new. I've never seen a band do that. Didn't even know that was a thing."
Leana, still toweling her hair, smiled knowingly: "It's more common than you'd think. Competitive swimsuits have this… clean form aesthetic. Minimalist. Strangely stylish. People wear them for photo shoots, sometimes even stage outfits."
"Wait—really?" Anikara blinked. "That's a thing?"
Araka nodded. "Some of the early Novak promo campaigns were in art galleries and even staging sessions during press conferences. They leaned into it."
Anikara leaned back with a groan: "I feel like I've been living in a completely different cultural layer."
Leana chuckled. "We all have our layers."
While the other girls chuckled, Aqua, speaking just loud enough for them to hear, said calmly: "I actually considered wearing a track and field set instead. The kind with the cropped sport top and racing briefs."
Anikara blinked. "That sounds more like you."
Aqua shook her head slightly: "…My body doesn't really fit that silhouette. I don't look athletic. Not like you."
There was no bitterness—just quiet honesty.
Leana gave a slow, approving nod. "Then you chose wisely. A clean-line swimsuit like that draws the eye without forcing a narrative. It makes people wonder. Plus, it actually makes you look slimmer and more fit. Actually, I'm interested in subcultures like this. The ones that don't explain themselves."
Araka, sitting with her knees up, arms looped loosely around them, looked over: "Could we come?"
Aqua met her gaze and nodded. "Tomorrow evening. It's a small venue— east Bakju, warehouse row. Nothing fancy. You can just walk in."
Araka smiled faintly. "I'll be there."
"Same," Anikara said, finishing her lemon tea. "But honestly, I'm way more curious how that swimsuit holds up under stage lighting."
Aqua didn't laugh—but she smiled.
Later during the afternoon, Araka sat on the bus home, earphones in, watching the cars pass by the window.
She pulled up the venue listing Aqua had sent her.
"BAKJU — E.47 Soundroom // 7:30pm // 'Riftless' Live Session"
It wasn't big. It wasn't promoted. But something about it… pulsed.
Araka bookmarked it. Closed her phone.
"I'll be there," she told herself.
Later that day, back in the Peni household's study room, the golden glow of a floor lamp cast long shadows across the carpet. Jun sat alone at the desk, still in his school uniform shirt, sleeves rolled back. His laptop hummed softly, open to a private internal SAIR access terminal—Level-C civilian-operatives review.
He scrolled through the regional briefing notes that Huashin had shared earlier that day—as Araka had shared with him about Aqua's concert. Just a precaution, he told himself , but Jun never really let go of small threads.
One entry caught his eye.
"Bakju East District – Old Minsan Power Plant and Creative Districts"
Subzone status: Unregulated
Previous incidents: 1 unsolved minor resonance anomaly (no injuries)
Civilian tags: unlicensed soundroom venues, black-market hardware transfers, soft signal leakage reports
Matake readings: 3 unconfirmed low-level surges in the past 90 days
Advisory: Low priority. Avoid intern engagement without authorization.
Jun leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing.
"E.47 Soundroom," he muttered under his breath. "Of course."
He looked down at the open message on Araka's phone—left out on the charging dock—a screen still dimly glowing with Aqua's invitation link.
He sighed.
To most people, it was just a music night.
But to someone like him—with access and awareness even during the entrance exam—it was a potential convergence point. One that might go unnoticed unless something tipped too far.
He didn't want to interfere. He didn't want to act like a parent.
But…
He pulled out his phone and sent a quiet message to Huashin.
[To: Huashin]
Re: Concerns for Araka
If you still have the trace scanner pack from last month, mind if I borrow it for the weekend? No incident. Just... routine.
He stared at the cursor for a moment, then hit send.