CHAPTER XLVII
~March of the Misfits~
He leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a more genuine, low-key tone:
“Real talk? You’re way stronger than you think. And if you wanna vent or just chill, I got mad patience for that. Plus,” he added with a goofy wink, “I’m literally stuck here with my busted Kendama, so you’ve got no excuse to bail on me now.”
Rin flopped down onto a chair near her spot, giving a mock dramatic sigh. “Besides, who else is gonna keep me from totally losing it when I’m low-key stressing over this Kendama disaster?”
He flashed that playful smirk again, his eyes twinkling with mischief but something softer lurking underneath — a promise that, whatever happens, he had her back tonight.
Yuzuki’s smile was cool and unreadable, a veil of calm masking the storm she felt inside. Just then, the classroom door slid open once more, and one by one, the others entered—the atmosphere shifting with each arrival.
First came Kagami, towering and confident, his dark eyes flashing with that familiar cocky glint. Not far behind, Ayaka followed, her bright demeanor a vivid contrast, her smile sunny but with that subtle, incisive sharpness in her gaze.
Himari stepped in delicately, her serene presence grounding the room, closely trailed by Shingure, whose fluid movements and tearful, poetic aura filled the space with quiet melancholy. The three Kaga-Kaga lizards slithered in beside the group, their crimson scales catching the dim light as they settled comfortably near the table.
Finally, the Korobokkurus padded in, chirping and squeaking softly, creating a symphony of tiny voices that brought a strange, comforting warmth to the otherwise tense gathering.
All eyes briefly flicked toward Yuzuki, whose cold smile remained steady yet hinted at the weight she bore, now surrounded by allies and rivals alike. The room, heavy with unspoken questions and faintly crackling with energy, held its breath—ready for whatever next twists the night would unfold.
Mofumi stretched, rising from his spot with a graceful stretch and a soft yawn. “Alright. I’m up,” he announced with quiet resolve. “Is everyone ready to step into the spider realm?”
“HELL YAHH!” Rin shouted, the Korobokkurus at his feet energetically bouncing and chirping in sync with his hype.
Kagami stepped forward from the shadows with a devilish smirk, eyes gleaming with cocky challenge. “You think you can outplay me in that twisted web, Rin? Bring it on—let’s see who really owns the dark corners. Just remember, I don’t like losing.” His words dripped with flirty arrogance, possessive and sharp, as he circled Rin like a predator sizing up his rival.
Shingure, voice soft and soaked in poetic melancholy, murmured like a gentle rainfall:
“I shall be the tender shield, the soft rain that guards the lilies—fear not, for the ladies shall stay safe beneath my watchful vows.” His eyes glistened with unshed tears, a lovely promise woven in verse.
The Kaga-Kaga lizards flicked their tongues and hissed in unison, “We’ll keep the Korobokkurus in line and make sure no chaos breaks loose.”
A cheer bubbled up from everyone except Yuzuki, who stood silently off to the side, her calm, natural voice breaking the energy with quiet neutrality:
“Let’s just be cautious. Nothing reckless.”
Himari nodded gently beside her, serene and matter-of-fact. “We’ll need every bit of strength, careful and steady.”
Ayaka’s voice chimed in, bright and radiant like sunshine, but sharp with inner cunning:
“Ooh, sounds like a real showdown! Just remember, guys, every web has its weakness—let’s find theirs and spin it to our advantage.” Her smile sparkled, but her eyes were sharp steel beneath the warmth.
Rin flashed a goofy, confident grin, waving his hands like the ultimate hype man. “Aight fam, the spider realm’s about to get served a full-on savage snack attack! Let’s get it—time to spin some chaos and catch those webs slippin’!”
The Kaga-Kaga blinked in confusion.
“But how?” one of them hissed, tongue flicking in frustration. “Your Kendama is broken! How are we supposed to get into the spider realm without it?”
Kagami stood a little awkwardly to the side, sweat beading silently down his neck, knowing full well that he was the one who had busted Rin’s prized Kendama in the first place. Silent guilt weighed on him, but Rin didn’t seem bothered at all.
Grinning wide, Rin threw up one hand in the air, and as his sleeve shifted just enough, the bright red talisman tied snugly to his wrist came into view, glowing faintly. Yuzuki’s sharp eyes caught it immediately.
Rin scratched the back of his head, chuckling sheepishly, “Ah haha, totally forgot the enchantment, huh? Guess this little guy’s gonna do the heavy lifting.”
Everyone exchanged exasperated looks, the moment so comically ridiculous that even the tense air seemed to crack.
Kagami raised an eyebrow, smirking, “Wow, that is peak Rin—forgetting how to open a portal. Seriously? The ‘King of Chaos’ can’t even remember the front door magic?”
Ayaka giggled brightly but with pointed mischief, “Amane-kun, you’re really testing our patience…but also our faith that you can do this. Please don’t make us carry you through!”
Shingure, voice soft yet cutting like dripping rain, lamented poetically,
“A master of prank and jest, yet even jesters forget their sacred roles;
The enchanter’s gate lies unheeded—what fate awaits the realm unlaced?”
The Kaga-Kaga gave frustrated hisses, their tails flicking sharply, “You forgot the key? This is why we can’t have nice things, Rin!”
Even the Korobokkurus chimed in with their rapid rounds of chirps, clearly in gleeful scolding:
“I see you… I see you…”
Mofumi, calm and unwavering, lifted one eyebrow and declared dryly, “Well, if the royal key’s on strike… then I suppose we’ll have to take the front doors.”
A collective groan and gasp echoed through the room, as the group imagined the far less subtle, far more dangerous, and—frankly—much more obvious entrance into the spider realm.
Rin shrugged, flashing his signature mischievous grin:
“Yo, whatever gets us in—front door or secret back door—I’m down. Let’s roll, squad! Time to make some noise in the spider realm, whether I remembered my magic or not!”
The group grumbled and laughed all at once, exasperated but ready, their chaotic alliance ready to face whatever dark webs they were about to untangle.
The group had just exited the dimly lit classroom, the muffled patter of rain following them into the corridor. Rin lingered for a moment inside the room, waiting for Yuzuki to finish packing her bag. The others—Kagami, Ayaka, Shingure, Himari, the Kaga-Kaga, and the Korobokkurus—filed out ahead, their footsteps echoing softly as they began to walk down the hall.
Suddenly, a sharp hiss from one of the Kaga-Kaga lizards pierced the quiet.
“Wait—do you guys even know where we’re going?”
The group immediately halted, a wave of uncertainty rippling through them.
Kagami whirled around, his eyes narrowing into a furious glare, voice sharp and demanding:
“Where’s Rin? Where the hell is that guy right now?”
Everyone spun to look back down the corridor, and there at the classroom door stood Rin, unmoving, leaning casually with a grin plastered across his face, clearly waiting for Yuzuki.
Moments later, Yuzuki emerged from the classroom, switching off the lights and gently closing the door behind her. She stepped forward smoothly to join the group.
From behind her, Rin followed, falling seamlessly into step.
The group exhaled collective relief as they resumed walking together, the soft hum of movement filling the space once again.
Kagami, eyes sharp as ever, shot a sly glance at Rin and teased with a cocky smirk:
“Now don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how to get there too.”
Shingure’s soft, poetic voice echoed in agreement, carrying a wistful melancholy:
“Oh, the wandering shadow stirs, uncertain of the path—still, onward must we stride.”
Mofumi turned on his heel, eyeing Rin with a growing scowl. Rin’s face was frozen in a crooked smile, eyes gleaming with clearly suppressed mischief and a silent admission—he had no clue where they were heading.
Mofumi’s mouth tightened, the scowl deepening as he folded his arms.
Rin chuckled nervously, his laughter bubbling up with that usual Gen Z quirkiness, “Hahhaa… yeah, um… about that…” His grin faltered, laughter trailing off as the truth settled between them.
The group groaned softly but carried on, united in their mix of frustration and reluctant amusement—the strange, chaotic rhythm of their night pressing onward.
As the group moved down the dim corridor, Kagami strode ahead with a confident swagger, though his furrowed brow betrayed the fragmented memories clouding his mind about the way to the Spider’s Realm. The tense energy of the moment was thick, footsteps echoing softly against the cold stone floor.
Yuzuki’s gaze drifted to Rin, who trailed just a few steps behind, his broken Kendama precariously hooked to the pocket of his pants. The red talisman still faintly glowed beneath the torn surface, but now the thread and ball dangled loosely, fragile and worn.
With a quiet, careful move, Yuzuki reached out and took the Kendama gently from Rin’s pocket—who didn’t notice a thing. In one hand she held the Kendama; in the other, the broken thread and detached ball. She leaned in slightly and whispered softly, just loud enough for Rin to hear.
“Hey… can we just get to the Spider Realm already?”
Rin paused mid-step, turning his head down with a goofy grin that immediately broke the tension. “Yo, for real? You’re just out here stealing my Kendama like it’s some kinda midnight snack? Bruh, that’s low-key savage—but kinda gotta respect the hustle, ngl.”
Yuzuki’s eyes widened almost exaggeratedly, as if signaling, Done already? Her smile was calm but playful, mixed with an unmistakable “I see you” vibe.
Rin suddenly groaned dramatically, clutching his chest like her words stung. “Ouch! That hurts, fam… emotional battery running low.”
With a big sigh, he finally raised his arm high, Kendama parts in hand. “Alright, alright, chill. Since you’re all about the vibes and energy, I’ll be your hype guide tonight.” He threw out the words with his usual mischievous flair but a touch of earnestness underneath.
The entire group halted, eyes turning to Rin as he took the lead, stepping confidently ahead through shadowed hallways, ready to face the spider’s web with that mix of goofy charm and quiet determination that only he could pull off.
The group threaded down the dim corridor, tension thick as shadows danced along the walls. Shingure’s voice, soft and dripping with melancholy poetry, floated over the quiet steps:
“Do you even remember the path, or does fate entwine us where the webs will unravel blind?” he asked, eyes steady yet carrying that wistful sadness only he could wear.
Rin turned with a sly grin, glancing back over his shoulder. “Bruh, I’m not just rememberin’—I’m vibin’ with it. Trust the king’s instincts, alright?”
Nearby, Kagami suddenly slipped his hand into Ayaka’s with the casual dominance of a prowling predator. He leaned close, breath low and warm against her ear, voice a velvet tease wrapped in steel:
“My Doll… stay close to me… where shadows flicker, I’ll be your shield, your flame. No one lays a finger on what’s mine.” His dark eyes smoldered with that flirty possessiveness, veins pulsing with a twisted, delicious possessive hunger, “Tonight, this realm belongs to us — and I intend to own every moment.”
Ayaka’s smile blossomed, bright and golden like sunlight filtering through rain, but sharp as a blade lurking beneath. Her eyes sparkled with cunning delight. “Always my protector, Kagami-kun. Just don’t let that fire scorch us both.”
Meanwhile, walking side by side with just enough space between to feel the tension, Mofumi and Yuzuki shared a glance that spoke volumes without a single word.
Mofumi’s feline eyes flicked upward, catching Yuzuki’s gaze. Their faces momentarily twisted into expressions of mild disgust at the overt romantic energy radiating from Kagami and Ayaka — the kind that felt almost theatrical in its intensity.
Yuzuki’s eyes slid down, mirroring Mofumi’s look, a streak of silent judgment passing between them.
Slowly, their disgust morphed into a small, satisfied smirk — a private camaraderie formed in their shared eye-rolling at the couple’s showy affection.
Without a word, their silent accord sealed, Mofumi flicked his tail ever so slightly in quiet approval while Yuzuki adjusted the strap of her bag, the faintest wry smile tugging at her lips.
Himari then hesitated, her voice soft but earnest as she spoke up, “A-Amane-kun… c-can you speak normally? It’s kind of hard to understand you when you talk like that...”
Rin turned fully toward her, cheeks flushed with a goofy sheepish grin. He rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged, his usual playful energy momentarily dimmed to something more genuine.
“Ah, my bad, Himari. Sometimes my words get all tangled up in the vibe, you know? But, yeah… I gotcha. No more slang overload. Promise.” He gave an exaggerated salute, tongue slightly sticking out in that childlike, mischievous way.
As Rin flashed his goofy grin and playful bravado, a flicker of something sharper crossed Yuzuki’s mind — that familiar, quietly skeptical gaze many girls develop after years of observing this kind of boyish charm.
Is he really like this with all the girls? she wondered, the thought slicing through the lightheartedness. Always so effortlessly cheeky and teasing, with that sly smirk—does he play the same game everywhere he goes?
Her internal voice whispered a sharp caution, the kind that comes from seeing through the playful facade:
Guys who’re slick and coy like that… sometimes it’s all just a performance. They hide their real selves behind the jokes and flirtation, keeping everyone guessing so nobody gets too close. It’s a way to avoid anything real, anything serious. They charm, they tease, but they don’t commit. And when push comes to shove, it’s all fun and games—until it’s not.
Yuzuki’s eyes narrowed subtly, her instincts on alert. I need to be careful. This isn’t just harmless teasing. It’s a pattern, a way of keeping people at arm’s length.
That moment of insight tempered the warmth Rin’s antics usually sparked in her, layering their interaction with a quiet wariness born from quiet, smart judgment — the kind that says: Watch how he acts when no one’s watching. Watch what he doesn’t say.
To be Continued...
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