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Chapter 3: Seeking Shelter

  Fame was loud.

  Too loud.

  It followed me like static in the air, buzzing against my skin, crawling into my ears. Every screen replayed the same scene. The red moon. The screams. Me, standing there, calm and bleeding.

  People stared as I passed.

  Some recognized me instantly. Their eyes widened. Their steps faltered. Whispers followed behind me like shadows.

  “Is that him...?”

  “That’s the guy from the arena...”

  “Don’t look at him. Seriously. Don’t.”

  I ignored them.

  My body protested with every step. The pain from DOOM had not faded. It had sunk deeper, dull and constant. My chest burned when I breathed too deeply. Something inside me was damaged. Blood had dried on my clothes, but I could still taste iron at the back of my throat.

  I could heal later.

  Right now, I needed somewhere safe.

  Somewhere quiet.

  Somewhere that did not ask questions.

  My thoughts drifted back without effort, as if my feet already knew the path. A small house. Familiar streets. A presence that had always been there, watching, waiting.

  If things ever spiral out of control... go to Akari.

  I did not remember when I had made that rule. It had just... always existed.

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  Streetlamps flickered as I walked. The city felt tense, like it was holding its breath. Nearby, a group laughed nervously while watching a replay of the match. Someone paused the footage right as the red moon rose.

  “Man... spell was insane.”

  “Yeah, but the way he looked... like he did not care at all.”

  I turned the corner before they noticed me.

  By the time Akari’s house came into view, my steps slowed. Not from pain.

  From hesitation.

  This was supposed to be safe. Familiar. But something felt... off. Maybe it was the lingering mana distortion clinging to me. Maybe it was instinct. Or maybe, deep down, I knew that safety and danger were no longer opposites.

  I stood in front of the door longer than I should have.

  Then I knocked.

  The door opened almost immediately, as if she had been waiting on the other side.

  Akari froze when she saw me.

  Her eyes moved from my face to the bloodstains on my clothes, then back again. Behind her, a large screen replayed the arena footage on loop. The red moon illuminated my silhouette.

  “...You,” she whispered.

  I shrugged. “Seems like it.”

  Her lips parted, but no sound came out at first. Her hands trembled as she stepped aside, letting me in without another word.

  The door closed softly behind us.

  Inside, the house felt too quiet. No TV chatter. No music. Just the faint hum of electricity and Akari’s uneven breathing. I could feel her gaze on me constantly, sharp and heavy, like hands pressing into my back.

  “You were on every channel,” she said finally. “They keep replaying it. Over and over.”

  “Annoying,” I replied, leaning against the wall. “Could be worse.”

  Her eyes darkened as she noticed fresh blood seeping through the fabric near my chest.

  “You are hurt.”

  I nodded. “It comes with the spell.”

  She took a step closer. Then another. Slowly. Carefully. Like approaching something dangerous and precious.

  “Do you even understand,” she asked quietly, “what you did?”

  I met her gaze. Calm. Blank. “Yes.”

  “...And you're smiling.”

  I had not noticed. I stopped.

  “It was fun,” I said after a moment.

  Her breath hitched.

  Something changed in her expression then. Fear, yes. Beneath it, something sharper. Something possessive.

  She closed the distance between us.

  I did not know it yet, but this was not just a place to hide.

  It was a cage with the door already shut.

  And I had walked into it willingly.

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