The next morning came quicker than expected.
Day two as a transmigrator. Still no sudden dragon attacks. Still working a shift at a bakery café. Still shorter than everyone around me.
Progress.
Sunlight streamed lazily through the ivy-covered windows of Honey & Crumb. I stood at the counter, prepping an order for table 7—two eclairs, a lemon scone, and tea steeped in milk and regrets—when the front door exploded open like it owed someone money.
DING-DING-DING-DING-DING—!
The bell above the door jangled so violently I was surprised it didn't fly off and hit the wall.
And then…
"HEATHER! MY SWEETHEART! MY SUNSHINE! MY SUGAR-DUSTED SHORTCAKE! WHERE ART THOU, MY WORLD, MY STARDUST, MY CELESTIAL BEANSTALK~!"
He came in like a storm that had read too many romance novels.
Pale yellow hair tousled like he'd fought the wind and won. Sharp blue eyes that sparkled with delusion. A confident, smug grin that screamed I've been rejected 53 times, but who's counting?
He twirled once—actually twirled—and blew a kiss into the air.
"Oh gods no," Matteo muttered beside me.
Heather, mid-icing a tart, slowly set the piping bag down like she was resisting the urge to throw it. "Not this guy again."
I leaned toward Matteo, cautiously. "Friend of yours?"
Matteo gave me a look. "Felix, that—that—is Damian Ravenheart. Self-proclaimed ladies' man. Lightning mage. Walking cringe compilation."
"Lightning mage?"
[System Notification – Copy Target Found]
Available Skill: Flash (LV.1)
A short-distance teleportation spell.
Distance: 5 meters
Mana Cost: 10
Copy Conditions: Make target's heartbeat spike.
…Good luck.]
I blinked. Looked at the window.
Seriously?
What kind of vague anime nonsense was that?
'Make his heartbeat spike'? That could mean anything. Fluster him? Scare him? Throw a pastry at him?
...Flirting might actually work.
"HEATHER MY LOVE," Damian declared, finally locking eyes on her. "I HAVE RETURNED TO GRACE YOUR LIFE WITH MY PRESENCE!"
Heather didn't look up. "I didn't ask for it."
"Oh! How cruel, your words pierce me deeper than any blade! But I endure—for you!"
Was this guy a verbal masochist?
She disappeared into the kitchen without a word.
Damian spun, his cape (yes, cape) flaring as he scanned the café.
And then.
He saw me.
Oh no.
His eyes widened. His mouth dropped open.
Then, with all the elegance of a collapsing chandelier, he rushed over.
"By the heavens... I-Is that an angel I see before me? Such grace! Such beauty! Your eyes glimmer like caramelized stardust! How radiant! I think I'm blinded by your beauty!"
Oh dear god.
He took my hand before I could stop him and kissed the air above it like a budget noble. "Fair lady, might I be so bold as to ask your name?"
"Uh, actually, I'm not—"
"Would you—oh heavens—would you honor me with your number? Or, if that's too forward, perhaps just a poem you've written about the sea? Or the stars? Or… me?"
"I'm a dude."
Silence.
The kind of silence that eats noise.
Every customer turned.
A fork hit the floor. Somewhere, a teacup cracked.
"…Excuse me?" Damian asked, his voice pitched higher than before. "Surely you jest, my lady?"
"No, I'm serious. You're welcome to check."
His soul left his body.
"NOOOOOOO!!!" He fell to his knees—literally fell to his knees. "LADY FATE, YOU HAVE MOCKED ME! I WAS LED ASTRAY BY BEAUTY'S CURSE! BETRAYED—BETRAYED BY MY OWN EYES!"
One of the regulars clapped.
Another customer laughed so hard she snorted tea.
[Skill Copy Conditions Met!]
You have learned [Flash (LV.1)]
Success!
+1 Skill Point Earned
I blinked.
Success?
Damian flopped dramatically into a nearby chair, staring into the void. "I shall never love again. I was but a young ignorant Icarus. I have flown too close to the sun…"
---
Hours passed.
Damian was still there.
He didn't order anything. He just sulked. At one point he muttered, "Was I always this blind?" and Matteo offered him sunglasses.
When we finally flipped the sign to Closed, Heather and Matteo untied their aprons. I did the same and slumped into a chair at their usual after-shift table.
Damian was still pouting like a wet cat.
Heather sighed. "So… are we going to talk about the fact that he's been like that for four hours?"
"He's still here?" I asked.
"He refuses to leave until he gets answers."
Matteo sat across from him with a biscuit. "Hey. Drama queen. This is my brother Felix."
Damian blinked slowly. His eyes shifted to me. Then to Matteo. Then Heather.
"…Brother?" he said, voice hoarse. "As in… genetically related? Family? Male sibling?"
Heather nodded.
"Yep. And before you ask: yes, really a guy. Yes, older. No, I don't know why he's short."
"HEY—!"
"Also no, you're not getting a second chance."
Damian clutched his chest like he'd been shot. "My heart… it shatters again…"
"Good," Heather muttered. "Now it knows how mine felt after that moon and sun nonsense."
Damian pointed at me, eyes narrowed. "You're dangerous."
I looked at him with a deadpan expression. "Yeah, I noticed that."
Matteo laughed. "You two are gonna get along great."
"Wait." I turned to him. "Don't tell me…"
I swear I heard fate laugh somewhere.
"Oh, I'm telling you," Matteo said. "Felix, meet your fellow Lorithal Academy entrant. He starts with you next week."
I froze.
Damian perked up.
"…We're classmates?"
Dear fate, strike me down.