The air buzzed with electric whispers — whispers of praise, awe, and sheer disbelief.
All directed at one boy.
Shiro.
The newcomer, in his very first demonstration of power, left the entire class breathless. His mastery over Mindcore Energy was beyond exceptional — almost unreal. In a room of hopefuls and dreamers, he moved like someone already crowned with victory. Calm. Cold. Unshaken.
"Your control over your Mindcore Energy and abilities is top-level, Shiro," praised Teacher Takao, his smile wide with genuine admiration. "You're already like an adult with this level of mastery."
The teacher's warm hand landed on Shiro's head — a gesture of affection and praise.
But Shiro did not welcome closeness.
He gently lifted the hand away, wordless and poised, then turned away and walked to his seat. On his way, his gaze briefly met Isamu's — the boy with untapped potential and boundless heart. Isamu sat frozen in a cocktail of wonder and confusion, clearly rattled by the raw elegance and aloofness of Shiro's display.
Shiro caught that look, and it pleased him. A smirk flickered on his lips. The validation of superiority washed over him like sweet nectar. He turned away and sank into his seat.
But silence would not last.
Two classmates approached — bright-eyed, hopeful, overflowing with excitement. Their admiration was unmistakable.
"Hey buddy... you're awesome, dude! Where did you train? That control was insane!" one boy gushed.
"Yeah, totally! I was thinking — maybe we can team up for the tournament?" the second boy added, grinning ear to ear.
Shiro's face didn't change. But something beneath the surface twisted. He found their casual approach distasteful, like flies buzzing too close. Without a word, he brushed them away, uninterested and cold.
Yet, the boys returned, more persistent this time.
"We were hoping to form a team. We want to succeed. The tournament is coming, and we need strength on our side," said the second, hope gleaming in his eyes.
That word — tournament — stirred something.
Shiro turned his head, his brows arching slightly.
"Tournament?"
"You don't know?" the first boy asked, surprised.
"No."
"The tournament is a national challenge for new entrants. You show off your power, pass through each brutal round, and the final winner becomes the candidate for the title 'Supreme Soul.' It's the highest honor in the nation."
"Is that so?" Shiro's voice grew softer, tinged with curiosity.
"Yes," the boys replied in unison.
A pause.
"I'll think about it," Shiro said coldly. "But in the meantime, don't approach me like this unless I ask for it."
"Y-Yeah! Cool! Got it, Cool Boy!" they replied in sync, chuckling nervously as they walked away.
From behind him, soft eyes followed every move.
Yumi.
She sat quietly, her gaze locked on Shiro. Her expressions were a blend of curiosity, wonder, and a hint of something softer — something warmer.
But not everyone was watching.
Far from the spotlight, a boy was lost in books.
Isamu — the once-goofy, loud, talentless one — was now buried in his textbooks. Pages turned. Notes scribbled. His tongue peeked out in concentration.
An unfamiliar sight.
He didn't see Shiro's arrogance. He didn't notice Yumi's dreamy stare. Because today, for the first time, something within him had clicked. He had felt his Elenvyr stir. Just a flicker — barely a whisper of energy flowing into form. But it was real.
And now he was obsessed.
He had to get stronger.
"Hey… Isamu… hey… hey… HEYYYY!" Yumi's voice broke his trance, the last shout finally catching him.
"W-What? Why are you shouting?" Isamu blinked, clearly rattled.
"Because you're acting like a completely different person! Studying?? You? That's ridiculous!" she laughed, half-mocking, half-genuinely confused.
"Stop judging me!" he grumbled.
She leaned in.
"Listen, it's not the time to zone out. The tournament is just a few days away. Remember?"
"Oh yeah! Totally forgot," Isamu chuckled, scratching the back of his head.
"Don't laugh, idiot. This is serious. We don't even know the format yet. After class, let's go to Teacher Takao and get the details. That is, if you want a shot at becoming 'Supreme Soul.'"
"I'll come. Just — please — don't disturb me right now. I'm at a really good part," he said, eyes darting back to his book.
Yumi glared at him but then softened. She chuckled quietly, finding the whole situation oddly adorable. Isamu — studying? The world was upside down.
Her eyes slowly wandered back to Shiro.
And to her surprise — he was already looking at her.
Her cheeks turned crimson. She yelped softly, covered her face with both hands, and shrunk behind her desk. It was awkward. Funny. Embarrassing. Beautiful.
Shiro looked away, uninterested, and returned his attention to the front.
The bell rang.
Class was dismissed.
Laughter and chatter filled the room as students packed up and left. Yumi grabbed her bag and turned to Isamu.
"Pack fast! We need to go talk to the teacher."
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, zipping his bag.
They were the last two to leave the room.
But in the doorway —
A figure blocked their path.
Standing there with unreadable eyes and folded arms — was Shiro.