Chapter 59: Unspoken Feelings

Chapter 59: Unspoken Feelings The engine of my superbike roared to life, a deep, resonant hum of runes and mana that cut through the early morning mist. Cool wind brushed against my face as the towering, gothic spires of the Academy loomed ahead, their highest points catching the first, faint light of dawn. And for once—I was smiling. I hadn’t had a start to a day like this in... well, ever. Not in this life, and certainly not in the last. There were no impending sword fights, no clandestine war councils, no shadow-spawn calamities clawing their way through the tattered edges of my sanity. Just me, a magnificent machine of pride and engineering, and a rare, profound sense of clarity. I was going to make money. Lots of it. With the annual Academy Festival approaching, the campus was set to become the epicenter of the continent. Nobles, royals, powerful merchants, and every other walking gold-bag would be in attendance. Each year, it was the same—a grand spectacle where students would perform, host stalls, and put on shows, all under the watchful, judging eyes of the world’s elite. But most students were just excited about the fame, the glory, the chance to catch the eye of a powerful patron. Not me. My motivations were far more practical. I had a daughter now. Or... something close enough to call my own. Yumi. The tiny vampire girl who smiled when I gave her cookies and called me "Ashy" when she was too happy to care, a nickname that was both ridiculous and strangely endearing. She deserved a life far away from the cold steel of slave cages and the leering eyes of a black-market auction. To give her that, I needed money. Real money. Not the paltry allowances of a disgraced noble or the stipends of a student council member. And there was no better opportunity than the Academy Fest. The classroom was chaos incarnate. No teacher was present. With classes suspended for festival preparations, the usual academic decorum had been replaced by the frantic, buzzing energy of a fish market. No. Worse. A zoo. Students were everywhere—gossiping in tight circles, standing on chairs to be heard over the din, throwing paper mana-notes across the room, and debating who was partnering with whom for the various festival events. I stepped inside and scanned the crowd, my expression a mask of cool indifference. Rin stood near the back, his arms folded, a faintly amused expression tugging at his lips as he watched the chaos unfold. He saw me and called out, his voice cutting through the noise. "What’s with the long face, Ashen?" I frowned. "Did the apocalypse start without me?" "Check your magic band," he said, tilting his head toward my wrist. "No classes this week. The entire academy has been shifted to prep mode for the fest." I tapped the glowing bracelet. Sure enough, the calendar, usually a rigid grid of lectures and training sessions, was wiped clean. Rin added, "Presence is still mandatory during academy hours, though. And no one’s allowed to leave the grounds until the day’s schedule is over." I couldn’t help but grin. "Perfect. That means I’ve got all the time I need." Rin gave me a suspicious look. "What are you planning now?" "Capitalism," I said, my grin widening. He raised an eyebrow, a look of profound confusion on his handsome face. I walked off, leaving him to ponder my cryptic declaration. Sasha appeared out of nowhere—literally out of thin air, a swirl of displaced energy marking her sudden arrival. She waved both hands like she was directing traffic, her face alight with an infectious energy. "Were you looking for me?" she beamed. "Yes," I said instantly. "I need your help with something important." Her expression softened, her usual bubbly enthusiasm tempered by a new, serious focus. "With what?" I held her gaze, my own expression unwavering. "I’m opening a restaurant stall for the fest. I need capable, trustworthy people on my team. Will you partner with me?" Her face lit up so brightly I thought for a moment she might actually explode into a shower of sparkles. "You don’t even have to ask! Of course I’ll help! Just tell me what to do!" Her voice rose in pitch, and she clenched her fists in a gesture of pure, unadulterated excitement. "I have most of the logistics covered," I said, a sense of relief washing over me. "The menu’s short—ramen, burgers, and something like fries. Earth dishes. But I need hands. Staff. Preferably people who won’t set fire to the soup or try to stab the customers." Sasha laughed, a clear, musical sound. "I know some cooking! I’m not a master chef, but I can handle the small stuff. We’ll need more help, though." "Exactly," I agreed. "I also need someone who knows how to cook things even I can’t make. A real culinary genius." She tilted her head, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Wait... you mean like... Julie?" I paused. She continued, her voice filled with a genuine admiration. "In our kingdom, she and her grandmother never lost a single cooking competition. She’s insanely talented. They say she can make a gourmet meal out of nothing but weeds and rocks." I sighed. Of course it had to be her. Julie. The quiet, unassuming girl I had been deliberately dodging ever since the Student Council War had ended. Not because I hated her. Not even because I disliked her. But because I didn’t know how to deal with the quiet, unwavering affection in her eyes. And the longer I ignored her, the heavier the guilt had become. But if she was the best shot at running a top-tier food stall... I didn’t really have a choice. "I need to go somewhere," I said, turning abruptly. Sasha blinked. "Wait, what? I was still talking—" I was already halfway down the hallway. I found Julie beneath the ancient, sprawling oak tree near the training grounds. She always came here when she didn’t want to be found, a quiet, solitary figure in a world of noise and chaos. But I was always good at finding people. She sat cross-legged on the grass, a heavy, leather-bound recipe book in her lap, flipping through its pages without really reading them. She saw me approaching. And then, with a deliberate, almost painful slowness, she turned her face away. Great start. "Hey," I said, my voice low and soft. She didn’t reply. "I’ve missed this face, you know." Still nothing. I sighed and walked closer, sitting beside her on the cool grass. "Okay, yeah. I avoided you," I admitted, my voice a low murmur. "I got overwhelmed with everything after the war games. Then the auction happened. Then the kid. Then—never mind. The point is, I should have reached out. I’m sorry." Julie kept flipping the page, slowly, her movements stiff and unnatural, as if she were trying to resist the urge to react. After a long, heavy pause, she finally spoke, her voice a quiet whisper. "So why now?" "I’m free now," I said honestly. "And you deserved better than my silence. I came to listen." She closed the book gently, her knuckles white where she gripped its cover. "I want to ask you something." I nodded. "Anything." She looked straight ahead, her gaze fixed on the distant, hazy mountains. "It’s about Eren." That caught me off guard. She continued, her voice a low, painful murmur. "I’ve followed him for a long time. Watched him train. Learn. Grow. Maybe that’s creepy—I don’t know. But I just... I wanted to understand him." I didn’t interrupt. I just listened. Julie’s voice softened. "But now he knows. Somehow, he found out about... my feelings. And he stopped talking to me. He avoids me like I’m a virus." "Eren’s an idiot," I said casually. She gave a tiny, watery laugh. "Maybe. But he listens to you. He talks about you like you’re his best friend, his only real rival." I shrugged. "I threaten him with shadow spiders when he gets too loud. It builds character." Julie looked at me finally, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Do you think he hates me?" That... that hurt to hear. I sighed, a long, weary sound. "No, Julie. He doesn’t hate you. I think he’s confused. You’ve always been kind of invisible to him. Not by your choice, but... he never noticed you the way you noticed him. And now that he knows, he doesn’t know how to react. He’s catching up to a reality he never knew existed." Julie looked down at her lap, her shoulders slumping. "I don’t know what I feel anymore," she whispered. "Is it love? Or just obsession? Or maybe just a habit?" I placed a hand gently on her shoulder. "You’ll figure it out. And I’ll help you." Her eyes, wide and hopeful, met mine. "You will?" "Also," I added, a slow, strategic smile touching my lips, "I need your help." She blinked. "With what?" "I’m opening a restaurant. I need someone brilliant in the kitchen. Someone who can cook food that no one in this world has ever tasted before." Her lips parted, a look of stunned disbelief on her face. "You... you want me to cook for you?" I nodded. "And for the entire continent, basically. Are you in?" She stared at me for a long, silent moment. Then... a slow, brilliant smile spread across her face.