Chapter 1: The Iron-Clad Judge

  The car rolled to a silent stop in front of the Aetherford Dormitory Gate. Mist clung to the cobblestones like a secret, and the wrought-iron gate loomed tall, trimmed in frost. The university didn't just look prestigious—it stood as a quiet, iron-clad judge.

  The driver opened the rear door. Himari Tsukihara emerged slowly, her coat a meager shield against the pervasive chill. Mr. Igarashi, her father’s assistant, held out a cream-colored envelope.

  “Please return it to her,” Himari said quietly, refusing the envelope. “Tell Mumma to give it to Aika and Rin. I really don’t need this.”

  Igarashi nodded. “Sir asked me to tell you not to get into any more trouble.”

  She let out a short breath. “Got the message loud and clear. Tell them I’m behaving. For now. But if trouble comes to me—that’s not my fault, is it?”

  “Take care of yourself, child. I’ll try to talk to your father about you.”

  The car pulled away. The pretense of a smile slipped, replaced by the heavy weight of isolation.

  The cold frustration was a metal taste on her tongue. The gate, that smug, elegant barrier, stood immune to her keycard. Her patience fractured. Her boot struck the iron—not in violence, but in a raw, unexpected demand for acknowledgement.

  THUD.

  A muffled cry answered her kick, a human sound that stole the air from her lungs. The gate creaked open. Kiro stood there, glasses askew, a thin line of blood on his temple.

  Her apologies tumbled out, panicked and useless.

  He stared at her. His gaze held no mercy. “You done? Apologizing. Panicking. Flapping.”

  “The gate wouldn't open and I—”

  “Clearly it can't be open without the official card." He took the handkerchief. “You’re new.”

  “Yes. Himari Tsukihara.”

  “Kiro.” He delivered the name with the flat, effortless coldness of someone who had never needed to fight to open a door. It was the absolute verdict of the elite: Your feelings are inconvenient.

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  At the office, she quickly placed a bandage and two candies in his hand. “For your temple. And… sorry again.”

  Himari headed to the third floor. The soft, distant hum of magic in the very stone was the only sound.

  She unlocked Room 3B. The room was warm, but the air was dense with unbreathed moments; dust motes floated like the tiny, grey ghosts of abandoned ambition.

  She pulled the window open. A dry, suffocating cloud of dust erupted into her face like an attack. “Agh—! Hh—ATCHOO! ATCHOO!”

  She stumbled toward the sink, desperate to wash the frantic heat from her face.

  And saw it. A dark, scuttling horror that retreated behind the faucet. A cockroach.

  Her composure shattered. The disgust was a cold, silent choke. She yanked the door open and burst out into the hall, coughing and teary-eyed. What kind of elite university gives me dust and cockroaches on day one?

  Her panicked exit echoed in the silent hallway. Kiro and Reain stepped out of their rooms.

  Kiro’s eyes narrowed. Her again.

  “Uh... is everything okay?” Reain asked.

  Himari blinked away the tears. She turned to Kiro, her shame hardening into defiance. “This is really my dorm, Mister Representative? There’s a bug. And dust. Please consider me human also. I can’t stay in that room.”

  Kiro's voice was cold. “If you’ve got a problem with your room, go change it. Not my business.”

  The coldness ignited a deep, quiet fury. “Are you a dumbass? I already apologized for the morning, didn’t I? So don’t use that sarcastic tone with me, stupid.”

  She threw her coat over her arm and walked toward the stairs.

  At the gatekeeper’s office, she submitted the room change form and collected a cleaning kit. The gatekeeper suggested the CVS for food.

  Minutes later, outside the CVS, Jiro approached her, calm and hooded.

  “You look lost,” he said.

  “I’m new here. I forgot the directions.”

  Jiro nodded. “Gatekeeper uncle told me to look for you. I’ll cover it. You can pay me back later.”

  “I didn’t ask for help,” she said quietly.

  “I know. But I offered.”

  They went inside. She paid him with a quick money exchange. As they walked back, Jiro asked, “So, would you like to be my friend?”

  She only managed a small, hesitant smile.

  Jiro agreed to help with the dusty room. Himari waited in the hall, relieved to be out of the dust. When he called her back, the room was mostly clean.

  “Dead body’s gone. Cockroach dumped. May it rest in peace,” Jiro announced, holding something small in his hand.

  Himari gasped in revulsion. “You—ugh! Go wash your hands! Fast! Fast! Go, go!”

  She shoved sanitizer at him. “Use this. Properly.”

  Jiro stood near the door. Himari pulled a small snack from Cyprus from her bag.

  “Can I get your number?” Jiro asked.

  She pulled out her phone. He added her quickly. “My room’s 3C, by the way. If you ever need anything, just message.”

  Just then, her phone buzzed. She answered. “Yes, I arrived safely... Thank you, Mr. Igarashi.”

  Jiro, halfway through the doorway, paused. “Do you know where the university building is?”

  Her face froze slightly.

  Jiro laughed. “Okay. I’ll come pick you up tomorrow. Don’t worry.”

  And with that, he stepped out, leaving her in the quiet room.