I hate Mondays.
Universally. Across all realities. Across all timelines. If there's one constant the cosmos got right, it's that Mondays are cursed.
I dragged myself into school half-dead, soul running on fumes, eyes heavy like I hadn't slept in a week—because I basically hadn't.
Let's recap my weekend, shall we?
Friday: combat class, accidental continental-scale landscaping.
Saturday: high-ranking demon commander breaks into my house, manipulates time itself, forces me to punch her into a mountain and accidentally send a message to the Abyss.
Saturday night to Sunday morning: my aura leaks slightly, and suddenly Emperor-class beings show up bowing like I'm a Dao God.
I am not a Dao God.
I just forgot to lock the damn door on my existence.
So yeah. I spent the entire night with my dad, sealing, suppressing, restraining, duct-taping my aura with talismans, formations, magic-tech dampeners, and sheer willpower.
My existence hated it.
Every seal cracked.
Every talisman burned.
Every formation screamed.
By morning, we managed to suppress it just enough that the universe stopped kneeling.
Dad looked like he'd aged ten years.
I looked like a zombie.
So there I was, Monday morning, sitting in class, hoodie pulled low, head on the desk, asleep.
Around me?
School drama.
"Oh my god, he dumped her, I can't believe it—"
"She's been crying since first period—"
"Bro you cheated on Yugi's deck? That's illegal—"
"Fight! Fight! Fight—!"
I didn't care.
I was dead inside.
Everyone else seemed to agree that waking me up was a terrible idea. Even the teacher glanced at me, saw the faint distortion around my desk—the subtle warping from half-suppressed existence—and decided attendance could wait.
Because who in their right mind wants to wake a living calamity already in a bad mood?
Exactly.
No one.
Except—
Tap.
My eye twitched.
Tap.
I slowly lifted my head.
And there she was.
Rei.
Standing beside my desk. Calm. Cold. Black hair falling like a blade. Red eyes locked onto mine with surgical intensity.
The room froze.
Students held their breath.
The air thickened—subtle, dangerous—like two storms lining up to collide.
It felt like two calamities were about to box.
I stared at her.
She stared back.
And for a long, tense second, the entire classroom thought this was it.
The sequel.
The rematch.
The building insurance claim.
But me?
I just didn't have it in me.
I sighed, turned my head away, and put it back down on the desk.
Ignored her.
Completely.
The atmosphere didn't explode.
It snapped.
Rei's aura spiked—not wildly, not violently—but sharply, like a blade sliding half an inch out of its sheath.
Whispers erupted.
"She ignored Rei…"
"She actually ignored her—"
"Is she insane?"
"No, she's worse—she's Lane—"
Rei's hand clenched.
"You," she said quietly.
I didn't respond.
"Lane White."
Nothing.
"You think you can just pretend I'm not here?"
I cracked one eye open, voice flat and tired. "I think it's Monday. And I think if we fight, my dad's wallet dies."
That wasn't what she expected.
The class blinked.
Rei's brow furrowed. "You're avoiding me."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I'm exhausted, you're intense, and I don't feel like shattering another building before lunch."
Silence.
Rei stared at me like she was recalculating everything she knew.
"You beat me," she said. "Then you walk away."
"I didn't beat you," I muttered. "I stopped you."
"That's worse."
I sat up slowly, rubbing my eyes. "Look. I'm not interested in dominance games, pride matches, or whatever sword-path enlightenment arc you're on."
Her eyes narrowed. "You think this is about pride?"
I met her gaze—fully this time.
And the room felt it.
"No," I said quietly. "I think this is about control. And you hate that you lost it."
Her aura flickered.
Just for a second.
That was enough.
"You're wrong," she said.
"Maybe," I replied. "But I'm still not fighting you today."
She leaned closer. "You don't get to decide that."
I smiled faintly.
"Rei," I said, calm but firm, "if I decide not to fight, then there is no fight."
The words weren't a threat.
They were a statement of fact.
The pressure in the room dropped instantly, like reality itself agreed with me.
Rei froze.
The teacher swallowed.
The class exhaled.
Rei straightened slowly.
"…You're running," she said.
I shrugged. "Call it self-care."
She stared at me for a long moment.
Then she turned.
As she walked away, she said quietly—just loud enough for me to hear:
"This isn't over."
I yawned. "I hope it is."
She paused.
Then, unexpectedly: "Rest."
I blinked.
She didn't look back.
The bell rang.
The class erupted into whispered chaos.
Jason leaned over from two rows back, eyes wide. "Did you just emotionally parry Rei?"
"I'm too tired to die today," I muttered, putting my head back down.
Elena glanced at me with concern. "Lane… are you okay?"
"Define okay."
She smiled softly. "You're still here."
"…Fair."
I closed my eyes again.
But somewhere deep down, I knew—
Ignoring Rei didn't defuse the bomb.
It just delayed the explosion.
And between demons, emperors, and sword-obsessed prodigies—
My so-called "normal school life" was hanging on by a thread.
And Mondays?
They were just getting started.