Chapter 3: — “Whispers of Worry”

The alarm buzzed sharply, cutting through the quiet of my room. I groaned, slapped it off, and rubbed my eyes. Morning light spilled through the blinds, warm and slightly harsh. Ugh. Morning.

Dragging myself out of bed, I yanked on my uniform, still half-wrinkled, hair messy from sleep. My stomach twisted a little, remembering yesterday, Kaito’s suspension, the blaster, the look on his face. I shook it off. I had to focus on today.

The kitchen hummed softly. Our personal drone hovered near the counter, holding a bowl of cereal, perfectly balanced. 

“Morning, Yuzuki,” it beeped, mechanical but cheerful. I muttered a quiet thanks and took the bowl, walking toward the table. Dad was already there, eating in silence, staring at his spoon as if it held all the answers.

We were quiet for a while. Too quiet. The kind of silence that made you feel like something unspoken hung between you, thick and heavy.

Finally, he spoke.

“Have you been… feeling different?” His voice was calm, curious.

“Different?” I blinked, confused. “Different how?”

“You know… changes,” he added, a little more playful this time.

My brain immediately jumped to the worst possibility. Oh no. Oh no no no.

“Dad,” I said, narrowing my eyes, “I’m sixteen. I’ve had my period since I was twelve. Are you serious?”

His eyes flashed. Slammed his hand on the table. The cereal rattled. I jumped. Heart pounding.

“Not that!” he barked, a little frustrated, then exhaled slowly. Calm returned, mostly. “I mean… your powers. Have you unlocked anything beyond the Oracle Sphere?”

I froze. Oracle Sphere. My little magical orb that let me see glimpses of the future. My secret. My comfort.

“Ohhh,” I murmured, tilting my head and picking at my cereal. “Not really. Just… the usual.”

He didn’t move. Just stared. Concern flickered across his face, brief but real.

I sighed and pretended to focus on my cereal, chewing slowly. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. But I couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday, about Kaito, about all the things I didn’t understand yet.

“You should be careful,” he said finally, quiet and serious. “The Sphere is only the start. There’s more coming… things you’ll need to handle.”

I nodded, barely audible. “I know.”

His eyes lingered on me, not pressing, not demanding. Just silently weighing me, as if trying to see if I was ready. I felt that weight, heavy on my shoulders.

I pushed down the rising panic. Mom had always told him to watch over me. She had believed I’d grow into my powers, slowly, carefully. But she was gone. Vanished. And now it was just me… and him.

I swallowed and picked up my spoon again. He turned back to his cereal, and silence fell once more. Not uncomfortable this time. Just… steady.

I finished my bowl, stood, and pushed my chair in. The sunlight caught my face as I stepped toward the door, warming my cheeks. Outside, the world moved on as usual, drones buzzing, people walking, cars humming. Oblivious to everything happening in my life.

Inside me, though… the weight of yesterday, the tension of today, and the uncertainty of tomorrow didn’t fade.

I had to see Kaito. I had to know he was safe. But he wasn’t here. Suspended. Blaster incident. And it was partly my fault.

—

The morning sunlight poured through the classroom windows. I slumped into my seat, dragging my bag behind me, feeling like I was carrying the weight of the world.

Kaito’s desk was empty. Of course. He was suspended. And all because of me. My chest tightened at the thought, my stomach clenching. The classroom buzzed with the usual chatter: pencils scratching, notebooks flipping, classmates murmuring to each other. I could barely hear it.

I pulled out my notebook and pretended to write, though my pen hovered above the page. My thoughts were somewhere else entirely. Kaito. Yesterday. The blaster. His anger. His secrets.

I needed to know if he was okay.

Carefully, I summoned the Oracle Sphere. It floated and hid just behind my notebook, making sure nobody could see it. My pulse quickened. I pressed my fingers around it, shielding it from view.

“Just a peek,” I whispered under my breath. “Just something… please.”

The sphere flickered, revealing the future like a faint, wavering video. At first, it showed useless fragments: me walking past, the janitor sweeping the hallway, a student dropping a pencil in my class, the sunlight sliding across my desk. My stomach twisted. Nothing useful.

And then, finally, something appeared. The English teacher from the next class, grading papers at her desk. My eyes widened.

And there it was, on top of a small pile, carefully set aside, Kaito’s essay. My heart jumped in my chest.

I leaned closer, the sphere floating between my hands. And something made my fingers tighten. The essay had his address written neatly at the top.

My breath caught. My heart raced. My mind screamed that this was it. My chance to see where he lived. To make sure he was safe.

But my thoughts tangled with guilt. Stalking? Peeking? Creepy behavior? Stalking my own crush? All of it. My stomach churned. Yet… I couldn’t look away. My worry for him burned brighter than my fear of doing something wrong.

I pressed my palms tighter against the sphere, holding it as still as possible. “I just need… a picture,” I whispered. “Just one tiny piece of information.”

The classroom hummed around me, but I couldn’t focus on anything else. Not the teacher yapping about the assignment. Not the classmates whispering or tapping pens. Not the soft scrape of chairs.

My mind raced. What if something happens to him? What if he’s building more blasters at home? What if he gets hurt?

The sphere pulsed faintly, like it was aware of my anxiety. I took a shaky breath and kept it hidden under my notebook, pretending to write. No one could see it. Not the teacher. Not the students. Nobody.

I tried to steady my thoughts. This was just information. A way to know he was okay. That was all. My curiosity mixed with worry, an ache I couldn’t ignore.

The sphere flickered again, and I saw the essay clearly. His address was right there. I had to act on it. I had to get a picture, somehow.

I shook my head slightly. This was risky. Dangerous. But I couldn’t let it go. I had to know he was safe.

I glanced at his empty desk again. Kaito… gone, suspended. The thought of him alone, facing trouble, made my chest tighten further.

I pressed my lips together, biting back the panicked thoughts that wanted to spill out. The sphere pulsed one last time, before eventually vanishing right in front of me. I swallowed. My fingers itched to act, to reach, to do something.

But for now, I could only watch. Plan. Wait.

The bell would ring soon. And when it did… I had to be ready.

The bell rang, signaling recess, and the cafeteria swarmed with students. I kept my eyes locked on the staff table where the teacher’s coffee sat, untouched and steaming. My heart hammered. One slip-up and this whole plan would blow up in my face.

I crouched behind a trash bin, pretending to tie my shoe, fingers itching to move. The hall was full of kids shoving and laughing, but I stayed focused.

Finally, the coast was clear. I inched toward the coffee, keeping low. My hand trembled as I unscrewed the tiny bottle I’d brought—laxatives. “For Kaito…” I whispered under my breath, like it mattered.

The teacher was distracted, talking to a colleague, her back turned. Perfect. I tipped the contents into her coffee, careful not to spill a drop. My pulse raced.

Almost immediately, I crouched lower, hiding behind a cart, imagining the chaos that would unfold in class. My cheeks burned as a thrill ran through me.

I muttered to myself, whispering frantically, “Come on… come on, just wait…”

The bell rang again. Students started heading back to class. I slipped into my seat quietly, pretending to have been reading the cafeteria bulletin. My fingers curled around my pencil, knuckles white.

Minutes later, the teacher walked into the classroom, smiling faintly, holding her coffee. I couldn’t look away. My stomach clenched.

She sat down slowly, lifting the mug to her lips. My eyes widened, and I held my breath.

“Take it easy…” I muttered under my breath. “Please… just a little…”

She sipped, and immediately, a small shiver ran through her. She shifted in her chair, crossing and uncrossing her legs nervously. Her hand twitched as she adjusted papers. Then she frowned, pressing a hand against her stomach, eyes squinting.

I leaned forward slightly, trying not to make it obvious I was watching. My heart raced. “Oh… come on… come on, work… work…”

Her expressions kept changing, subtle but unmistakable: she squirmed in her seat, a weird little dance of leg taps and shoulder shifts, one eyebrow raised, lips pressed tight. She muttered under her breath, “Oh… not again…”

I practically screamed in my mind. Yes! It’s working! It’s working!

The rest of the class went on quietly, heads down, papers rustling, but I was frozen in place. My eyes didn’t leave her. My stomach flipped as she tapped the pen nervously, shifted her weight, then crossed her arms tightly over her chest.

“She’s… she’s really struggling…” I whispered to myself, feeling guilty but also… thrilled. “Oh god… hurry up, hurry up…”

I bit my lip as she suddenly shifted forward, gripping her stomach a little harder. She let out a soft hiss, but no one seemed to notice. She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to calm herself, but her legs bounced slightly under the desk, almost like she was dancing with invisible music.

I couldn’t help it—I ducked slightly and whispered, “Oh my god, yes… that’s it…”

Minutes passed. Her attempts to stay composed were failing in the most obvious, ridiculous ways. She leaned back, fingers digging into the edge of the desk. One hand clutched the mug, the other pressing subtly against her stomach. Her face twisted in small, hilarious grimaces—eyes squinting, lips pulled tight, eyebrows shooting up.

Focus, Yuzuki. Take the shot.

Finally, she stood abruptly. “I… need to step out. Class, behave yourselves,” she said, voice strained but managing to stay professional.

I froze. That was it. My chance. I slipped from my seat, tiptoed to the desk, and lined up my phone over the top of the essays.

There it was. Kaito’s essay, neatly stacked, with his address written clearly at the top. My fingers shook as I clicked the photo, holding my breath. One quick glance and it was done. I stuffed the phone back in my pocket and crouched behind the counter, heart hammering.

“Done… done… oh god, done,” I muttered to myself. My legs shook. I had actually done it.

Then, a small voice: “What are you doing?”

I whipped around. A student had crept up, eyes wide. Panic surged through me.

“Shut up,” I hissed, low and deadly. “Mind your business.”

He froze, gulped, and nodded. “O-okay…”

I turned slowly, letting my gaze sweep across the room. “And everyone else,” I said, voice sharp and cold, “if anyone even thinks about snitching… you’re done. Understand?”

A chorus of quiet murmurs spread through the desks. Some faces paled. Some stared at me, wide-eyed. A few even leaned back in their chairs, like they weren’t sure whether I was joking.

“Good,” I said, voice softening just a little. “Now… focus on your own work, or I swear…” My eyes flicked over each student one last time, daring anyone to challenge me. No one did.

I exhaled slowly, letting the tension drain from my shoulders. My hand shook slightly as I slipped back to my desk. Heart still hammering, I pulled out my phone and opened the picture I had just taken.

There it was. Clear as day. Kaito’s essay, neat and precise, and at the top—his address. I stared at it for a moment, holding my breath.

A small, shaky smile tugged at my lips. I did it…

I scrolled through the photo carefully, making sure nothing had blurred. The address was intact. I tucked the phone back into my bag, letting out a quiet sigh of relief. My fingers lingered on the strap for a moment, gripping it tightly.

I couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped. I actually did it. I took a photo… of my crush’s essay… with his address… My face warmed, and I quickly looked down, hoping no one had noticed.

The rest of class dragged on slowly. Every tick of the clock was a reminder that the real work wasn’t done yet. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d just uncovered. Kaito, suspended yesterday… the blaster… and now this.

The bell rang sharply, signaling the end of class. I stuffed my notebooks into my bag, ready to bolt out of the room. Freedom. Finally.

But then—

“Yuzuki!”

I froze. The teacher came back from her bathroom trip. She was standing at the doorway, arms crossed, tapping her foot. “The bell does not dismiss you. I do.”

I groaned, rolling my eyes, gripping my bag straps tighter. “Please, sensei… just let me go today. I really need to—”

“No.” Her tone was firm, unyielding. "I still need to announce something important so go back to your seat!"

I huffed, frustration bubbling in my chest. Normally I’d obey, but today… today I didn’t care. I didn’t care if she scolded me later. I shoved the chair back and ran.

“YUZUKI! Come back here this instant!” she shouted, but I didn’t stop. I ran down the hall, my heart hammering. My legs carried me faster than my thoughts, and all I could think was:

Kaito… I have to see him.

The teacher’s voice faded behind me, swallowed by the buzz of the students packing up. I didn’t look back. Not once.

I scrolled through my phone, staring at the address I had taken a picture of earlier. My fingers trembled as I tapped it into the map app. My heart was racing, my mind screaming at me to slow down, but I couldn’t. I had to see him.

Running through the streets, my bag bouncing against my side, I kept my eyes glued to the directions. Sweat formed along my hairline, and my breath came in sharp gasps, but I didn’t stop. Not until I reached the house.

I crouched behind the bushes, peeking over the low hedge. The backyard was alive with drones, hovering silently, scanning the area with blinking lights. I froze, every step forward feeling like a gamble. One wrong move, and he’d know I was here.

Carefully, I inched between the drones, my chest tight, fingers gripping the grass to steady myself. The lights swept past me, but somehow, I remained unseen. I could barely breathe, my pulse pounding in my ears.

Then I saw him. Kaito. Through the window of his room, bent over a workbench, completely focused. His hands moved quickly, assembling blasters, lasers, and other weapons I couldn’t even name. My stomach twisted.

“What… what is he doing?” I whispered under my breath. "What the hell…?”

I edged closer, trying to get a better view, my knees scraping against the grass. My heart raced, worry twisting into panic. He had more than just the LS-99. There was a whole inventory of weapons laid out before him, each one polished, precise, ready for use.

I reached out a little too far, and my hand knocked against the windowsill. Bang!

Kaito froze, his head snapping up. My heart dropped.

No… no, no, no.

I ducked instantly, crawling backward along the edge of the bushes. My palms scraped against the dirt, my legs stiff as I moved as quietly as possible. I pressed myself flat, hoping he wouldn’t see me.

Kaito frowned, glancing toward the noise, then shrugged it off, returning to his work as if one of the drones had bumped the glass.

I exhaled slowly, sweat stinging my eyes, my body shaking from the adrenaline. I stayed crouched for a moment, just watching him, trying to understand.

He doesn’t just have one weapon. He has an entire inventory. And… why? Why is he building all of this? I thought to myself, 

“What the hell… why is he doing all this? What… what is going on?”

My fear and worry pressed down on me so hard it felt like it would crush my chest. I’d seen the LS-99 before, but this… this was something else entirely.

Finally, I couldn’t stay any longer. I crawled backward, keeping low, moving through the bushes until I reached the edge of the yard. My legs pumped as I ran down the street, my breath ragged, my heart hammering in my chest.

Even as I ran, my thoughts spun in a whirlwind. He’s not just hiding one blaster. He’s hiding dozens. And he’s building more. And I don’t even know why…

The worry inside me grew heavier with every step. Something was happening. Something big. And I had no idea what it was.