"Floor 2805!" The elevator chimed, its voice unnaturally cheery for such a ridiculous height. [hector]

  The doors slid open with a soft whoosh, spitting out Alain and Itami onto the floor

  Alain stumbled out first, his eyes wide as he took in impossible landscape. It was somehow similar to Annas place.

  A minor cliff jutted out defiantly, adorned with trees that had no business being this high up.

  Beyond that, grasslands stretched out, punctuated by a lone structure in the distance that screamed "important plot point."

  "Itami, could you not go after Ryuji?" Alain said, his voice a mixture of exasperation and boredom. He side-eyed his companion, who was still inexplicably shirtless.

  Itami's face darkened faster than a storm cloud. "He killed my—" The words caught in his throat like a fish bone, sharp and painful.

  Alain, looking about as fresh as week-old sushi, continued trudging forward. "You're a hypocrite," he stated, no emotion, just facts.

  "I know," Itami replied, his tone somewhere between "yeah, so what?" and "fight me."

  They walked in silence for a moment, the only sound the soft squish-squish of their feet on the unnaturally placed grass. Suddenly, Alain's brain decided to take a hard left turn.

  "Also, do you think I'll grow taller?" he blurted out, then barreled on without waiting for an answer.

  "I saw that Leonardo dude. Who thought the de Meaux would pick such a small guy? And I thought Anna was the smart one."

  Itami snorted, a sound that was half amusement, half derision. "Come on, man. You shouldn't judge a book by its cover. Or wait, in this case, you should judge a cover by its book."

  Alain turned to look at Itami, his red eyes swirling like hypnotic pools of blood. "What the fuck does that mean?"

  "Eh," Itami shrugged, his hands disappearing into his pockets like they were trying to escape the conversation. "Still, he spoke perfect Kol-nic, better than me even, and I've been here for a whole lot longer."

  "Yeah, that... I don't care though," Alain replied, his interest in the topic evaporating faster than water on a hot skillet.

  "Yeah, so when are you going to the Takashiro house?" Alain asked, changing gears smoother than a luxury car.

  Itami continued walking, his presence oozing danger like a leaky nuclear reactor. "That boy needs a proper beating," he said, his voice low and menacing. The memory of the sage's speech and that "pig of a boy" killing his own father—Itami's father—played in his mind like a broken record.

  "Prodigy, my ass," he spat, the words tasting bitter on his tongue.

  Alain chuckled, a sound that was equal parts pride and amusement. "Hey, watchout, they don't call us prodigies for no reason."

  Itami scoffed so hard he nearly pulled a muscle. "You, Marquis, Anna, that pig, Adad, and that guy... it doesn't really matter. They call you prodigies because you just passed some bullshit test in school."

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  "Is Anna really on the list?" Alain asked, his brow furrowing like a confused caterpillar.

  "Yeah, remember when she went full Hulk on a teacher because he missed a mark that could have gotten her a higher grade than Marquis?"

  "Oh..." Alain's voice trailed off as the memory hit him like a freight train.

  [Flashback]

  The scene shifted faster than a chameleon on a disco floor. They were suddenly in a hallway so grand it made Versailles look like a garden shed. Windows lined the walls, filtering in light that seemed to avoid the dust particles out of respect.

  Anna stood before a teacher who was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. Her uniform was crisp enough to cut paper, from her dark blue blazer down to her perfectly pressed skirt.

  "Give me the mark. I deserve it. The last equation is worthy of a point," Anna demanded, her voice promising violence with every syllable.

  The man struggled to breathe, looking like he was trying to inhale through a straw. "Y-yes, but overall it's out of 10, and I gave you 9?"

  Students scurried by, whispering among themselves like a colony of particularly gossipy ants.

  "Look—" one brave soul began, before being shushed faster than you could say "bad idea."

  [End Flashback]

  "Yeah, she's aggressive," Alain said, trying to shake off the memory like a dog after a bath.

  Itami, apparently feeling suicidal, tried to change the subject. "Elara seems cool—"

  "I do NOT want to talk about girls," Alain interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. You could practically see the door slamming on that conversation.

  Alain put his hands behind his back, stretching like a cat waking up from a nap.

  "Why'd you come out shirtless anyway?" he asked, eyeing Itami's bare torso like it was a particularly confusing math problem.

  Itami sighed, the sound of a man who'd rather fight a bear than continue this conversation.

  "Look, I'm tired of talking, and you don't like talking. Home." He shrugged, moving towards a nearby tree and leaning against it with the grace of a newborn giraffe.

  "Not if its you" [Alain]

  "You remember the plan?" Itami asked, pausing as he stretched his leg up to his face with all the subtlety of a contortionist at a formal dinner.

  "First to reach home gets a—" he pauses, unable to recall the prize.

  "Dad won't rant. Loser gets the rant," Alain finished, smacking his forehead hard enough to wake up brain cells in the next city.

  "Yeah, that—" Itami pushed off from the tree with enough force to make a rhino jealous.

  The ground shook, the air rippled, and somewhere, a butterfly flapped its wings and caused a hurricane.

  "That fucking-!" Alain shouted, his feet scrambling for purchase like a cartoon character on ice.

  And they were off, tearing across the grassland like two particularly competitive cheetahs.

  Itami's shirtless form blurred into a streaking comet of pale skin and determination. Alain followed, his run all the grace and elegance of a stampeding rhino, but twice as powerful.

  "could you stop?"

  "nope" Itami responds slowly, letting the wind crease his skin

  The landscape rushed by in a kaleidoscope of greens and browns, trees becoming no more than green smudges in their peripheral vision.

  Itami maintained his lead with the smug satisfaction of a cat who'd just pushed a glass off a table.

  Each movement was precise, calculated, like a ballet dancer who'd decided parkour was their true calling.

  The distance between them shrank faster than a politician's promises after election day.

  They hit the varied terrain like a pair of particularly enthusiastic ping pong balls.

  Itami bounded over hillocks with the grace of a gazelle, while Alain treated each slope like a personal challenge, using gravity like a slingshot to propel himself forward.

  Itami, in a rookie move straight out of Racing 101, glanced back. In that split second, Alain gained ground like a sprinter on rocket fuel.

  They hit the manicured lawn of the complex like twin torpedoes, the perfectly trimmed grass probably filing a complaint with its union.

  They slammed into the entrance door simultaneously, the poor piece of architecture shuddering at the impact.

  For a moment, they just stood there, panting like a pair of asthmatic bulldogs after a marathon.

  "I... won..." Itami wheezed, sounding about as convincing as a politician's promise.

  "No... way..." Alain retorted, his breath coming in gasps that could put a steam engine to shame. "It was... a tie..."

  "Well," she said, her voice rich with the kind of amusement only a parent could muster in this situation, "I suppose I'll have to rant at both of you."

  "Mom?" Alain wheezes, trying to gain his breath,

  "Ma'am" Itami mutters, almost as if he never ran to begin with.