Grand Academy Lumina was, from an architectural standpoint, a celebration of poor resource allocation.
Towers of crystal and white stone just... floated. They were connected by bridges that shimmered with pointless, gravity-defying magic. Gardens grew upside down. Waterfalls flowed from nowhere to nowhere, dissolving into mist before they ever hit the ground. The entire place had been designed by mages who clearly thought physics was a mild suggestion.
*The maintenance costs must be astronomical,* was my first thought. *A catastrophic waste of resources.*
"Impressive, isn't it?" Veyra said, gesturing with an air of pride I found completely baffling.
"It's large," I conceded. "Which will make navigating between classes inefficient."
Veyra sighed. It was the specific sigh of an educator who has dealt with one too many unimpressed teenagers.
"Your dormitory is in the Spire of Unseen Arts," she said, pointing to a tower that looked structurally questionable. "Registration is in the main hall. Orientation is in one hour. Don't be late."
She teleported away, leaving me at the entrance to a place I had no desire to be, with a schedule I hadn't asked for, in an environment I was almost certain would trigger my Glitch within the hour.
This was going to be a disaster.
Registration was a masterclass in redundancy. I stood in line for twenty-seven minutes while a harried administrator checked names with a magic quill that kept sputtering. The inefficiency was so profound my eye started to twitch. I felt, rather than saw, a nearby potted plant just... give up. Its leaves curled in on themselves in what I could only assume was sympathetic despair.
"Name?" the administrator snapped when I finally reached him.
"Haru Tanaka."
"Ah. The special admission." He stamped a document with unnecessary force. "Room key, student ID. Welcome to Lumina. Try not to... you know... cause an international incident in your first week."
"I make no promises," I said. It was the truth.
Part Two: The Reunions
The Spire of Unseen Arts was, naturally, on the exact opposite end of the campus. I found my room. It was small, spartan, and minimalist. Efficient. I appreciated that.
I had thirty minutes until orientation. I spent twenty arranging my three books and ten staring at the wall, calculating the precise number of poor decisions (mostly not mine) that had led me here.
A knock interrupted my calculations.
I opened it. Elara.
She practically vibrated with an energy that was part relief, part excitement, and mostly "I-am-about-to-lecture-you."
"You're here!" she launched herself at me in a hug I didn't authorize. "I got Lyra's letter! Are you okay? Was the trip bad? Are you already annoyed about the architecture? You are, aren't you?"
"I'm fine," I said, detaching her. "And yes. The architecture is inefficient, registration was suboptimal, and my room is on the seventh floor of a tower with no elevator."
"It's a *magic* academy, Haru. You're supposed to use a levitation spell."
"I don't *use* magic," I reminded her. "I *am* a condition."
She knew, of course. Not the details, but the fundamentals.
"Right," she said, her expression softening. "Well, I'm glad you're here. Even if they had to basically force you. It's better than you being alone in the village."
Before I could respond, another figure appeared in the hallway.
Mira.
She was wearing the white and light-blue robes of a healer's apprentice. Her hair was tied back in a practical braid. Her amber eyes were wide with a surprise that was quieter, calmer than Elara's.
"Haru," she said.
It wasn't loud. But it hit me like a physical blow.
And in that precise, catastrophic moment, my internal monologue suffered a critical system failure.
*Oh. No.*
The thought wasn't words. It was a blue-screen-of-death panic.
*I'm in love with her.*
This was not inefficient. This was a *disaster*. A thermodynamic nightmare. It served no purpose. It complicated *everything*. My heart was suddenly doing something stupid and illogical in my chest.
I suppressed it. Immediately.
"Hello, Mira," I said, my voice a perfect, deadpan neutral. "It's good to see you."
A faint blush hit her cheeks. "You too. I didn't know you were coming."
"It was a recent development."
From the void, I was certain Ætheria was howling with laughter. This was a bespoke, handcrafted emotional disaster. Just for me.
"Well," Elara said, sensing... *something*... "we should head to orientation. Don't want to be late."
*Too late,* I thought. *Chaos has already arrived.*
Part Three: The Orientation Incident
The Grand Hall had an enchanted ceiling showing a swirling cosmos. Several hundred first-years were vibrating with nervous excitement. It was deeply irritating.
An elderly elf, Master Elmsworth, got on stage to give the welcome speech.
He spoke for forty-five minutes.
He spoke about the academy's history (irrelevant). He spoke about magical ethics (subjective). He spoke about the curriculum (already in the handbook). He spoke with the slow, deliberate, *reverent* pace of a man who genuinely believes the sound of his own voice is a public service.
It was not a service. It was a trial.
I was bored. Deeply, existentially bored. A physical, crushing weight of boredom. My Glitch began to thrum.
*A memo,* I thought, as Elmsworth began his third anecdote about the founding Archmage. *This entire speech could have been a memo.*
Above us, the enchanted ceiling flickered. The stars swirled faster. The nebulae began to pulse with a frantic, unnatural energy.
A few students pointed. Elmsworth, lost in his own monologue, didn't notice.
"...and in the year of the Crimson Moon, Archmage Valerius himself decreed..."
My annoyance hit a critical threshold. The boredom had curdled into active, weaponized frustration. My subconscious was preparing to solve the problem.
The pixies appeared.
The ceiling, it turned out, was run by a swarm of tiny, light-generating pixies in the rafters. They were calibrated for a slow, gentle cosmos.
They were *not* calibrated for the spike of pure, reality-warping *frustration* that just shot out of me.
The stars went supernova. The nebulae flashed like a chaotic strobe light.
And the pixies... they went feral.
They descended in a glittering, shrieking swarm. They dive-bombed the students. They tangled in hair. They released tiny, harmless-but-blinding bursts of light in people's faces.
The hall exploded.
Students screamed. Master Elmsworth's mouth hung open. The administrator from registration was trying to swat them with his clipboard.
And in the middle of it all, I sat perfectly still.
Through the chaos, I felt... relief. A profound, serene calm.
The lecture had stopped. The problem was solved. An optimal outcome.
"Haru," Elara hissed, shielding her head. "Did you *do* this?"
"I was listening to the lecture," I said, which was true.
"This is your fault! I can feel it! This is *exactly* what happens when you get bored!"
She was right, of course.
A pixie landed on my head, looked at me, and seemed to decide I was too boring to panic about. It flew off to find a more interesting victim.
A few rows ahead, Mira was trying to calm a group of crying first-years, using a gentle light spell to guide the pixies toward an exit. She glanced back at me for a split second. Her expression wasn't angry. It was... *knowing*.
She knew. She didn't know *how*, but she knew this was my fault.
*This is going to be a problem.*
My first day. Not even halfway through. And I'd already caused the Great Pixie Riot of Orientation.
Veyra was going to be furious.
*I should check the cafeteria's ramen quality before she finds me,* I decided. *Priorities.*
Part Four: The First Encounter
As the chaos died down, I slipped out of my seat. Goal: cafeteria.
"You."
The voice was sharp. I turned. A girl with vibrant purple hair, styled with severe precision, was staring at me. She wore the top-ranked student's uniform. Smart and arrogant.
"Yes?"
"You didn't move," she said, her violet eyes narrowed. "The entire time. The pixie riot. The screaming. You just sat there. Why?"
"There was no reason to move. The situation did not require my intervention."
"It required a *reaction*. Everyone reacted. You didn't."
"My reaction was internal," I said. "I was... satisfied."
That made her pause. She stepped closer. "You're Haru Tanaka. The special admission. I heard the rumors."
"I'm not interested in rumors."
"You seem to be the source of them," she countered. "I'm Sera Vex. Top-ranked student in this academy. And I'm going to figure out what you are."
"That sounds like a spectacular waste of your time," I said, and turned and walked away.
I could feel her eyes on my back, her mind already trying to solve me.
*Another complication.* A smart one.
My plan for a quiet, invisible existence was already a complete failure.
But at least, I thought, heading for the cafeteria, there was still ramen to evaluate. One had to maintain priorities.