She leads the way through the crowded streets, her long legs eating up distance with every step. Isagani has to practically jog to keep pace, his shorter stride no match for her natural stride.
Her face is a stoic mask, betraying no emotions or clues as to what she's thinking—which seems to be a pattern with her. She doesn't speak a word as they walk, not even a glance back in his direction.
Soon enough, they turn a corner and a quaint shop comes into view, with an elegant painted sign that reads 'The Golden Bean Cafe'.
The scent of coffee and pastry envelops them as they step through the door. The cafe is quiet, with only a few patrons sipping their drinks at the scattered tables. Iris strides purposefully toward the counter, and he tags along.
A cheerful barista greets them from behind the counter, a broad smile on her face. "Good day! What can I get for you two?"
Iris gives a nod as her only greeting before she speaks up, her voice clear and precise.
"Large dark roast. Black, no cream or sugar. And a slice of lemon cake."
Isagani blinks. Of course she'd get something simple and efficient, he thinks with a mental sigh.
While he's used to chugging down cheap convenience store coffee before, the fact that she's ordering a fancy drink and a slice of cake makes him suddenly conscious of the fact that he's probably gonna end up paying a lot more than he bargained for.
He steps next to her at the counter, plastering on a slightly sheepish smile.
And he straightens his posture, puffing out his chest with sudden confidence—though it looks more like a kid trying to act tough than anything else.
"Yo! Gimme your strongest magical coffee," he declares, pointing at the barista with an overly serious expression. "And one of those fancy bread things too—y'know, the kind that floats or glows or whatever!"
The barista stares at him for a moment, taken aback by his absurd order. She shoots a quizzical glance at Iris, as if asking is he for real?
Iris sighs at his side, her gaze flickering toward him with a hint of irritation. "Order something normal."
Isagani freezes, realizing his mistake. His confident smirk falters into a sheepish grimace.
"Ah—uh, yeah. Sorry," he mumbles quickly to the barista before glancing at Iris with an apologetic look.
He clears his throat awkwardly and rubs the back of his neck. "I just... assumed this place had some magic stuff going on since it's called 'The Golden Bean.' You know how these things work."
Turning back to the counter with forced casualness:
"...So uh... where's your menu?"
"The menu's right there..." The barista gestures toward a large chalkboard hanging on the wall behind the counter. The menu is clearly visible with an assortment of drinks and pastry options listed, but there's nothing resembling 'floating' or 'glowy.'
Iris lets out another sigh, this one more exasperated than the last. "Are you always this clueless?"
Isagani feels his face flush with embarrassment. He glances back at the menu and wants to slap himself—how could he have missed it? He's either dumber or dumber.
He tries to laugh it off with a light-hearted chuckle, but it comes out more like a strangled squeak.
"Uh... yeah, my bad. I'm a total idiot, ha ha," he says through gritted teeth. "I guess I had my head in the clouds..."
He squints at the menu, trying to pretend he's not feeling like the biggest dumbass.
He scans the menu with a critical eye—half to avoid Iris' withering stare and half because he's actually trying to find something he can afford.
"Uh... well..." he murmurs. "I'll have the… cheapest coffee, the cheapest bread. Yeah."
And he glances at Iris, trying another attempt at a carefree grin. "This... place sure ain't for the broke folks like me, huh?"
The barista glances between your sheepish grin and Iris' cool detachment, her lips pursed as if holding back a smile. Despite the situation's absurdity, the barista can't help but find the whole encounter mildly amusing.
"Right," she says briskly. "So that's one large dark roast—black, no cream or sugar—and a slice of lemon cake. For you, the cheapest coffee and bread."
Isagani winces a little, bracing himself for the impending hit to his wallet. "Yep, that's right," he mutters, taking out his wallet with a sense of impending doom.
He glances up at the barista with a hopeful look, "How much is that gonna cost, exactly?"
The barista names the price, and it's a little more than he was expecting, but he manages to keep his face relatively neutral, pretending it's not a big deal.
He hands over the appropriate money, hoping that he'll have enough for the ride home later.
"Your order will be ready in a few minutes," barista says, her tone carefully neutral. "You can wait at one of the tables."
She gestures toward the nearby tables, and the quiet hum of conversation fills the cafe. It seems to be a popular spot for students—the majority of the patrons look about your age.
Iris turns and strides toward their table, sitting down with a smooth, almost graceful movement. Isagani follows, feeling a bit like a duckling following the mother duck as he slouches into his chair, trying to look cool and unaffected.
The silence between them is deafening, with neither one of them saying a word. It feels like an eternity before Iris suddenly breaks it, her soft voice cutting through the air.
Her gaze shifts to him, sharp and expectant.
"You said you had questions." Her tone is flat—no warmth, no prompting. Just a statement waiting for its follow-up.
She leans back slightly in her chair, arms crossed over the table as she studies him with those unreadable amber eyes.
"So ask."
Isagani straightens in his seat, feeling the weight of her gaze. "Ahem," he clears his throat, deciding to go straight into it.
"So, uh, that whole situation earlier with the delinquents and all," he begins, "they called you a 'Lorewarden,' right? What, is that some kind of... police force or something?"
"It's not police." Iris voice is clipped. "We're student officers with jurisdiction over minor magical incidents and disciplinary violations."
A pause as she adjusts her glasses slightly.
"Think of us as the academy's internal security force—but we handle everything from petty theft to illegal spellcasting." She says it like he should already know this basic information.
Isagani nods, absorbing the new information despite feeling like an idiot for not knowing this already. It does explain the uniform though.
"Ah..." He rubs his nose, trying to make sense of it. "So, you're like... student cops? Or, well, student security guards, I guess. But for magic stuff."
"And, uh..." he hesitates, then continues with a cautious tone. "What school are you from, exactly? If you don't mind me asking, that is."
"The Lunaire Academy."
Iris says it like it should be obvious.
"It's an all-girl's school, specialized in magical education. And one of the most prestigious institutions in the country."
Her tone is a little smug, like being from Lunaire is a badge of honor—which makes sense, considering its reputation.
"It's a long-established school, so I'd assume even you would've heard of it," she adds, her eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly.
Isagani suppresses a wince at the thinly-veiled jab at his ignorance. He's starting to realize that this girl has a knack for making him feel like the biggest dumbass.
He forces a nonchalant shrug, as if it's no big deal. "Not that I'm surprised you came from there. You kinda give off that... snobby-rich-girl vibe."
The corner of her mouth twitches—the slightest sign of a reaction. Like she's trying not to laugh or get annoyed. But it's gone in an instant, replaced by her usual poker face.
"I could say the same for you," she remarks coolly. "You have a certain... clueless-and-broke air."
He scoffs, waving a hand dismissively. "Oh come on! Of course I'm clueless—this is my first week here!"
He leans forward slightly, gesturing at her with exaggerated disbelief. "You'd be lost too if you just showed up in some magical city and had no idea how anything worked."
"Not really." She says flatly, raising an eyebrow as if he's said something stupid.
"There's a thing called research. There's this magical invention called the 'internet' that lets you get information about different places. There are travel guides, maps, websites, even apps—there's no excuse for being completely clueless in the modern world." She says it all in the most condescending tone possible, as if she's talking to the dumbest person in the world.
"Besides," she continues, her expression going unreadable again, "I'm sure even you're not stupid enough to move to an unfamiliar city without doing some basic research on the place first."
A moment later, the barista arrives and sets the tray on their table. The rich, dark scent of coffee wafts into the air. The barista looks back and forth between Isagani and Iris with a knowing smile, clearly recognizing the dynamic brewing here. After a moment, she leaves.
Isagani's jaw drops slightly at her words. He stares at her for a long second, utterly speechless—until he finally snaps out of it with an indignant scoff.
"Research?!" He nearly chokes on the word. "Yeah, well excuse me if I didn't have time to memorize every damn detail about this city before moving here! You know how many people just go without knowing everything upfront?"
His face flushes a little at her words, and he suddenly finds the table very interesting to stare at. His voice drops, quiet and almost sheepish.
"...Okay, fine. Maybe I didn't research everything," he admits with an awkward chuckle. "But c'mon... you ever just wanted something so bad that it kinda overrode everything else?"
He risks glancing up at her again through his lashes, cheeks still tinged pink from embarrassment and sincerity alike.
"Like… this place? Ever since I was a kid, watching those magic shows and battles on TV. Yeah." He gestures vaguely toward the window where Lyra Mythica's skyline glitters in the distance. "I kinda got tunnel vision for all of it."
He takes a loud slurp of his cheap coffee—too bitter, but he doesn't care—and shoves half the bread into his mouth like an overexcited puppy.
"Mmf—so yeah," he mumbles through crumbs, waving a hand around for emphasis. "Magic? Supernatural stuff? That's exactly why I came here." His eyes light up with pure fanboy energy despite trying to play it cool. "I mean... look at this place!"
He gestures wildly toward the café's enchanted chandeliers (which probably don't even glow) and then back at her uniform like it's proof of everything.
"I know I can't use magic myself yet… but damn if watching people do it isn't sick as hell." He grins crookedly before taking another aggressive bite of bread as if punctuating his point with carbs alone.
Iris eyes go wide as she watches him shove the bread into his mouth and practically monologue about magic like a child who just walked into Disneyland. Despite her poker face, there is something almost like amusement in her expression as she watches him enthusiastically gesticulate with half-chewed bread in his mouth.
She almost looks like she wants to laugh. But she manages to mask it quickly with a small sigh, shaking her head.
"You're quite..." she pauses, thinking of how to best word it, "...childish."
Isagani pauses in the middle of stuffing his face with bread, mouth comically full and cheeks puffed out.
"Whuh?" he garbles through his mouthful of bread. "What did you say?"
"Nothing."
Iris takes a slow sip of her dark roast, the bitter liquid barely registering as she watches him with an expression that's somehow both unimpressed and faintly entertained. The lemon cake sits untouched for now—her priorities are clearly elsewhere.
"Chew your food properly."
Isagani rolls his eyes in a display of feigned indignancy, still talking with his mouth full. "Yes, mom."
He lets out an exaggerated sigh before making a show out of chewing his food properly, swallowing with a dramatic gesture. Then he gives her a cheeky grin, crumbs littering his lips. "Happy?"
Something almost like a smirk flickers across her face, there and gone so fast he could've imagined it.
"Ecstatic." Her voice is deadpan—the same dry, almost cold tone she's been using this whole time.
There's a pause as she picks up her fork and cuts off a small bite of lemon cake, but there's a hint of amusement in her eyes.
"You've got crumbs on your face, by the way."