The rooftop of Minato Academy was quiet, tucked away from the hum of Tokyo's evening traffic. For Shiba Saori, it should have been a place of refuge, but tonight, the air felt thin and suffocating.
"It's over, Saori," Saegusa Ayato said. He stood with his hands in his pockets, his posture radiating a casual arrogance that stung worse than his words. "I think we've reached the limit of what this... relationship can offer."
Beside him, Kudou Yuri adjusted her silk scarf, her eyes tracing Saori with a look of bored superiority. She didn't need to say a word; her presence alone was the insult. Both Ayato and Yuri belonged to the prestigious world of the Ten Master Clans, a world where names were everything.
"I don't understand," Saori whispered, her voice trembling despite her efforts to stay composed. "Six months, Ayato. You said—"
"I said what was necessary at the time," Ayato interrupted, his tone chillingly practical. "But we're graduating soon. My family has already finalized the arrangements with the Kudou house. In our world, compatibility isn't just about feelings; it's about the future of our lineage. A girl like you, from a family with no standing... you were a pleasant way to pass the time, Saori. But you aren't 'Master Clan' material."
"A distraction," Yuri added with a thin, sharp smile. "You should be flattered, really. Most girls of your level never get to stand this close to the center of the world."
They turned together, leaving her standing in the shadows of the cooling vents. The sound of their retreating footsteps—the rhythmic, confident click of their expensive shoes—echoed in the silence.
Saori sank onto a rusted bench, her pride finally crumbling. She wasn't crying for the loss of Ayato—she was crying for the sheer, cold-blooded cruelty of it. To them, she was a non-entity. A "Shiba." A name that meant nothing in the high-stakes politics of Japanese magic. She felt small, discarded, and utterly alone.
"The 'center of the world' is a very small place if those two are the ones standing in it."
The voice was low, steady, and strangely melodic. Saori jumped, nearly dropping her bag as she spun around.
Standing by the rooftop railing was Hanamiya Satoshi. He was a student she recognized from her advanced calculus and history classes—a quiet, unassuming boy who always sat in the back. He was handsome in a subtle, understated way, but he usually went unnoticed, like a shadow that didn't want to be seen.
"Hanamiya-kun?" Saori wiped her eyes, her face flushing with heat. "How long have you been there?"
"Long enough to be disgusted," Satoshi said. He didn't approach her aggressively; he simply leaned against the railing, looking out at the city lights. "I've never liked the way the Saegusa family looks at people. Like they're just components in a machine."
"You shouldn't have listened," Saori bit out, her defensive walls slamming back into place. "It's none of your business."
"Maybe not," Satoshi replied, finally turning to look at her. His eyes weren't filled with the pity she expected. Instead, they held a profound, quiet intensity. "But it's hard to watch someone I've admired for three years be treated like she's invisible."
Saori froze. "Admired? You don't even know me."
"I know you better than he did," Satoshi said softly. He stepped away from the railing and walked toward her. He didn't use magic. There was no hum of psions, no glow of a CAD. He simply sat on the bench beside her, leaving a respectful space between them.
"I know that you're the only person in this school who treats the 'nobodies' with the same respect as the elites. I know that you study harder than anyone else because you want to prove your worth. And I know," he paused, his voice turning even gentler, "that your heart is worth a thousand of Ayato's 'lineages.'"
He reached into his bag and pulled out a small, unopened bottle of water, offering it to her. It was a simple, human gesture, but in the wake of Ayato's coldness, it felt like a lifeline.
"Saori," he said, using her first name for the first time. "Don't let their arrogance become your truth. You aren't 'scraps.' You're the most remarkable person I've ever met."
Saori looked at the bottle, then at him. The knot of pain in her chest didn't vanish, but it loosened. For the first time in months, she didn't feel like a "Shiba" or a "placeholder." She felt like a girl.
"Why are you telling me this now?" she whispered.
"Because I'm tired of being a shadow," Satoshi said, a small, genuine smile touching his lips. "And because I want to be the one who makes you smile again. Give me a chance, Saori. Let me be your boyfriend. I promise to see you for exactly who you are."
As Saori looked into his deep, calm eyes, she felt a strange sense of safety she couldn't explain. She reached out, her fingers brushing his as she took the water, and for the first time that night, the world didn't feel quite so cold.
The news of the rooftop breakup had barely cooled before a new, more explosive rumor ignited the hallways of Minato Academy. By 8:00 AM, the student body was paralyzed. Shiba Saori, the girl everyone expected to go into hiding after being discarded by the Saegusa heir, walked through the front gates with her fingers interlaced with Hanamiya Satoshi's.
Saegusa Ayato stood at the center of the atrium, surrounded by his usual circle of sycophants. Beside him, Kudou Yuri leaned against a locker, her expression shifting from boredom to sharp irritation. To them, Saori was supposed to be a broken trophy; seeing her move on with a "nobody" was a direct insult to their perceived gravity.
"Hanamiya!" Ayato's voice cut through the morning chatter like a serrated blade.
Satoshi didn't flinch. He didn't speed up or slow down. He simply stopped, turning his calm, bottomless gaze toward the Saegusa heir. He didn't let go of Saori's hand; if anything, his grip became a silent promise of protection.
"You have a lot of nerve," Ayato sneered, stepping into Satoshi's personal space. He adjusted the cuff of his expensive blazer, intentionally revealing the sleek, custom-made Casting Assistant Device (CAD) strapped to his arm—a military-grade tool that cost more than most families made in a year. "Picking up my leftovers? I knew you were a bottom-feeder, Hanamiya, but this is pathetic even for you."
"She isn't 'leftovers,' Ayato," Satoshi said. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a weight that made the surrounding students go still. "She is a person. Something you're clearly too small to understand. And as for 'nobodies'... the loudest dogs usually have the thinnest skin."
The atrium went silent. No one talked to a member of the Ten Master Clans that way.
"A duel. Now. In the back gym," Ayato snarled, his face contorting. "I'm going to show you what happens when a commoner forgets his place before we even get to the Magic High Schools."
The back gym was unofficial territory, but it was packed within minutes. Ayato took his stance, his CAD glowing with an arrogant blue light. Even in a normal school, his Psion pressure was suffocating—a trait of his "superior" bloodline.
Ayato intended to end this instantly. He wanted to humiliate Satoshi by pinning him to the wall with a high-density Pressure-type spell.
"Ready... Begin!" a bystander shouted.
Ayato's fingers blurred across his CAD. "Kneel!"
But nothing happened.
Ayato blinked. He checked his device. The activation was complete, his energy was spent, but reality remained stubbornly unchanged. He tried again, his movements becoming frantic. The magic simply failed to manifest.
Satoshi hadn't even moved. He stood with his hands in his pockets, his expression one of bored observation. To the crowd, it looked like Ayato was just waving his arms at a brick wall.
"Is that it?" Satoshi asked.
"Shut up!" Ayato screamed, attempting a massive Vibration-type spell.
In a blink—faster than the human eye could process—Satoshi was suddenly standing inches from Ayato's face. He hadn't even reached for a device.
A single finger flicked Ayato's forehead.
The impact sent the Saegusa heir flying backward twenty feet. He crashed into the equipment mats with a sickening thud, his expensive CAD shattering into useless plastic and glass on the floor.
The silence in the gym was absolute. A "Master Clan" elite had been defeated by a flick of a finger in a school for normal kids.
Ayato groaned, clutching his head. His eyes were wide with terror. "Impossible... I am a Saegusa... I am from the Ten Master Clans! How can a commoner... how can I lose to a nobody?!"
Satoshi walked over, looking down at him with cold indifference. He didn't look like a victor; he looked like he was inspecting a particularly loud insect.
"The Ten Master Clans?" Satoshi tilted his head, a mocking, razor-sharp smile playing on his lips. "Are you sure about that, Ayato?"
"What... what are you talking about?!"
"I mean," Satoshi said, loud enough for every student to hear, "maybe you aren't actually from a Master Clan. Maybe you're just some average, mediocre magician who has spent so much time deluding himself into believing he's elite that he's forgotten how to actually cast magic."
Satoshi leaned down, his voice dropping to a whisper that only Ayato could hear.
"Or maybe you're just a branch of a branch, so far removed from the truth that you can't recognize someone truly dangerous when they're standing in front of you."
Satoshi turned his back on the broken boy, walking back to Saori. He offered her his arm, his eyes returning to the warm, gentle light she had seen the night before.
"Shall we go to class, Saori?"