OPEN BOOK

You know, it’s fun and dandy being isekai’d into a fantasy world.
The stuff you used to daydream about: magic, swords, dragons, saving kingdoms — it all sounds great on paper.

But someone really should’ve put a big terms and conditions apply warning on the portal before shoving me through. Because the fine print? The fine print is that trouble is ridiculously easy to find. Or worse — trouble finds you.

I’ve never been the guy who goes looking for it.

Even before my reincarnation.

Maybe it’s because this world feels like a story I’ve been dropped into, and a part of me thinks I’m supposed to play the hero.

Or maybe… maybe it’s just because I’ve started to care.

I remember Jeanne talking about the mysterious destruction of that Magitek automaton during training last week. No one saw who did it, but the thing was obliterated in one hit.
And the first person I thought of was Taiga.

A goofy storm-summoning boy who’s supposedly just learning to control his powers.
But the more I think about it, the more it feels like a trope out of some shounen manga — the clueless hero who secretly has god-tier powers nobody understands.

“Don’t tell me Taiga is—”

“Oi! Trouble magnet!” Cora’s voice cut through my thoughts.

I blinked, looking up to find her smirking at me, sunglasses dangling from one finger.

“What do you keep daydreaming about?” she asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Nothing,” I muttered quickly.

“Right,” she said, clearly not buying it. “Come on. This street’s clear — let’s check the next one.”

I fell into step beside her, boots crunching on the cobblestones. The city was quieter than usual tonight — just the soft hum of Aetherune streetlamps and the distant chatter of taverns.

We weren’t here for fun, though.

We were looking for Lyra.

It had been two days since anyone had seen her.

“Headmaster! Lyra! She left the Institute!” Jeanne said with behind them Taiga and Evelyn came

I glanced at Orion, already half out of my chair.

“Well, looks like you’ve got much bigger trouble than detention. So I take my cue to—”

“Sit. Down. Avalon.” I sat back down.

Jeanne stepped forward, hands clenched. “Please, Headmaster. Help us find her.”

I’d never seen Jeanne like this before.

“Well, I for one don’t mind she’s gone,” Evelyn said coolly.

Jeanne spun on her. “Evelyn!”

But Evelyn wasn’t finished. She crossed her arms, chin tilting up.
“I want to know what kind of school you’re running, Headmaster. First you admit incompetent students, and now you’re harboring someone who could very well be a terrorist. This place is a mockery of higher education — and of the entire profession of Guardians.”

“Eve, how could you say that? Lyra is our friend!” Jeanne’s voice rose.

“She just admits who she is and you want to defend her.” Evelyn retort back

“That’s enough!” Taiga suddenly cut in “We don’t know that! You never tried to befriend her! What right do you have to say that about her?”

Evelyn’s lip curled. “And it’s a good thing I didn’t. I would’ve befriended a terrorist.”

“Okay, that’s too far—” I started, but then—

Clink.

Orion set down his teacup.

“Seriously? You drink tea at a time like this?” Evelyn scoffed. “No wonder this place is falling apart.”

Orion didn’t even blink.

When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, but it cut through the tension like a blade.
“Miss Crystalis,” he said evenly, “I have been following your little dramas since before the first day of class. The ‘incompetent’ boy you speak of placed second in rescue points during initiation — unlike you, who nearly placed last.”

Evelyn stiffened, color draining from her face.

Orion went on, tone unchanging.
“I have watched Mister Hyoudou improve with each week despite his recklessness. I have watched young Taiga, cheerful though he is, rise to every challenge set before him. And as for Lyra Ravencroft…”

He clasped his hands behind his back.
“Every student who enters this Institute is personally vetted by me. If I find anything that could endanger this school or the people we protect, they are not permitted past the gates. Whatever you may think, Lyra is here because she deserves to be here.”

Orion’s gaze sharpened, cold as winter.
“If you truly believe I have made a mistake…” He paused, letting the silence hang heavy.
“…then perhaps the only mistake I made was admitting you.”

The room went utterly still.

“We’ve been searching for two nights now,” Cora said. “If Lyra wanted to disappear, she did a good job of it.”

I didn’t answer right away. My gaze had wandered to a little balcony café across the street — a couple of students sat there quietly reading under the warm.

“Yo. Trouble magnet. You’re zoning out again.”

I blinked and looked back at Cora. She smirked faintly, but there wasn’t any real humor in her eyes.

“Yeah… sorry.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Let’s call it for tonight. Tell the others. I’m heading back to the dorm.”

“Sure.” Cora said.

A few blocks later, I stopped in front of a narrow little shop squeezed between two taller buildings. Its painted sign had half-peeled off, and the window display was a single crooked stack of books gathering dust.

I pushed the door open. The bell above it jingled, startlingly loud in the hush.

Behind the counter, Lyra was cleaning the counter with a rag. “Sorry, we’re closed,” she said automatically.

“Don’t worry, I will be quick” I said, stepping forward. “I’m just looking for my missing friend.”

She froze, then looked up — reading glasses perched on her nose. Her eyes widened, surprise flickering across her face.

“I would gave you a heads up but you turned your scroll off.” I said as I stepped in fully, letting the door shut behind me. The little bell gave one last chime.

“How did you find me?” She said.

I smiled sadly, thinking back to late nights in my old hospital room, books stacked on the bedside table.

“I used to have a friend who hid behind books when things got too heavy. This felt like the kind of place he’d run to.”

We sat down at one of the tiny corner tables, and I sent a quick message to Jeanne, Taiga, and Evelyn.

“Relax,” I said after a moment. “I just told them I found you. Didn’t say where.”

For a moment, silence filled the dusty shop. Lyra pulled her hood back.

Her cat ears flicked free. Her illusion shimmered and dissolved like mist — silver hair bleeding into golden strands, her familiar face vanishing to reveal the real one. But her golden eyes, sharp and watchful, stayed the same.

“So that’s your Gift, huh? Light manipulation.”

“You don’t seem surprised,” she said quietly.

“I had a hunch,” I admitted. “Your face was a little too familiar. And you kind of gave yourself away when you kept eating fish every single day in the cafeteria.” My lips quirked. “But I needed one last thing to confirm.”

I pulled out my necklace.

Lyra’s eyes widened. “…You’re her student.”

“Pleasure meeting you,” I said with a small wink.

Her expression darkened. “Why didn’t you say anything, if you knew?”

I said softly. “You had your reasons. It wasn't my place to push.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not ready,” I added quietly.

For a moment, she was silent — golden eyes staring down at the table. Then she exhaled, almost a sigh, and nodded.

“It’s okay,” she said at last, voice low but steady.

She hesitated, then spoke again — softer, as if pulling the words from deep inside herself.
“All my life, the Silver Claw was everything I knew,” she murmured. “I thought we were heroes. We marched, we protested, we shut down mines that used Beastfolk slave labor. And for a while…” Her lips pressed into a thin line. “…for a while, I believed we were actually making the world better.”

Her voice shook.

“But everything changed when my brother died.”

“Selene Ravencroft’s first student. Sora is your brother. Am I right” I said which she slowly nods

Her breath hitched. “Looking back, all the people we hurt, all the things I— I just… I’m scared. Scared that if I stay, I’ll lose someone else I care about. I can’t watch that happen again.”

Her words splintered, panic rising in her chest.

Before she could spiral further, I got up and wrapped my arms around her.

“It’s okay,” I said, holding her tight. “You matter to us — no matter what came before. Like it or not, you’re stuck with us. No matter how far you run, our bond will find you again.”

She stiffened, startled — then slowly melted into the hug, quiet sobs muffled against my shoulder.