Panic at the academy - Part 3

“Touka! I’m surprised you came,” exclaimed Takeshi. “I didn’t think you’d have the nerve to show yourself after such a poor performance as a hunter.”

Takeshi Tachibana. One of the academy’s best students—not only for his theoretical excellence, but because even his combat skills were worthy of praise. Undoubtedly, someone completely out of my league.

“And as if that weren’t enough, you ended up with an incompetent mentor. That hobo look really suits you. I, on the other hand, got a mentor from Gildam, the third most important guild in the country.”

The Gildam Guild, one of the best in Japan, second only to Dead Eye and Red Thunder. It wasn’t surprising that someone with his outstanding performance had managed to get in as an intern.

At first glance, it might seem like I just had bad luck during mentor selection, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.

To prioritize the most outstanding students, the academy ranks them according to overall performance; the higher the score, the earlier you get to choose your mentor. I was the last one to choose, though in reality, I didn’t even get to choose—Yu was the only one left on the list who hadn’t been picked.

A relatively new agency that didn’t even have a name. It was only natural that it ended up at the bottom.

Hearing Takeshi’s words made me tremble as I remembered my situation at the academy. With every word that left his mouth, my eyes grew wetter and wetter. Yu was just watching with a puzzled expression, so I lowered my gaze so I wouldn’t have to look at anyone.

I just had to wait for all of this to pass.

“You still have time to leave, you know? There’s no need to humiliate yourself so much… Huh? What do you want?”

After that, the next thing I heard was a loud thud, and when I turned around, I saw Takeshi on the ground holding his forehead. Yu stood in front of him, and it seemed like he’d flicked him with one of his fingers.

“How dare you?!”

“I doubt you have much to brag about if one of my fingers was enough to knock you down,” said Yu with a defiant tone.

What the hell is he doing?!

Takeshi, already angry from the hit, clenched his face even more at the provocation. Despite his excellent performance, he’d always been someone with little patience.

“What’s going on here?!” someone shouted from afar. “Would you mind explaining what you’re doing to my intern?!”

“Oh? So you’re this brat’s mentor. I was just defending my protégé—she was being harassed by that guy. You should keep your boy under control, you know? To avoid any problems.”

Although Yu maintained his usual carefree demeanor, this time he was noticeably more direct than usual. Before, he would only make the occasional comment or joke and relax too much around those close to him, but this time he truly seemed to be picking a fight.

Takeshi’s mentor began to get angry at Yu’s provocative attitude, and in less than a second he prepared to strike, but Yu dodged and caught his arm, twisting it behind his back and holding the other one so he couldn’t move.

“The mentor’s just like the intern… That explains a lot,” added Yu before pushing Takeshi’s mentor away to put some distance between them.

The students around us had already noticed the commotion and began to gather; murmurs filled the air, and everyone watched closely to see how things would turn out. However, they were quickly interrupted by the teachers.

“Stop! Stop! That’s enough!”

At the sound of the teachers’ shouts, the students quickly scattered to avoid trouble, leaving the area practically empty within seconds.

“No fighting on academy grounds! If you’re caught again, you’ll be expelled!”

“Boo…” muttered Yu, disappointed.

Meanwhile, Takeshi’s mentor helped him up, and they both apologized to the teachers before leaving—but not without one last warning.

“This won’t end here. I’ll make sure you don’t get away with this.”

At such a threat, all Yu did was make a mocking gesture—sticking out his tongue and wiggling his fingers near his head—something that only irritated the mentor further, who then left without another word.

The teachers, after a tired sigh, also left the scene, leaving only Yu and me alone.

“Damn, those guys sure are annoying. You okay, Touka?”

“...Why? Why did you have to make him mad?!” I shouted. “Now that idiot won’t leave me alone! No—he’s going to make things even worse because of you!”

If Takeshi had already been a problem before, when he’d stopped picking on me, I didn’t even want to imagine how things would be now that he was furious. It wasn’t just him—his whole little entourage would surely make my life even harder.

I was doomed.

“Touka…”

“Leave me alone!” I cried before running away from the place.

I didn’t care about anything anymore—not even the mentor presentation. All I wanted now was to be alone. At least that way, I could get a small break from all these problems.

***

After leaving Yu behind, I ran without thinking, but somehow ended up in a secluded corner of the academy, behind the storage building. It wasn’t a coincidence—this was where I always came whenever I reached my limit.

No one came here. It almost felt like a different place entirely, and that’s exactly why I liked it. Here, no one could hear me cry or wallow in regret.

It had happened many times before, but today I felt worse than usual. Remembering everything that happened with Takeshi and his mentor, how Yu had only made things worse, and imagining how my time at the academy would be from now on—each thought was like a stake driven into me, hurting like hell.

There was nothing I could do. Crying while hugging my knees was the only thing that helped, and I stayed like that for a while until he found me.

“So this is where you were,” said Yu. “Seriously, you need to stop that habit of running off without letting me talk. It’s annoying.”

He was the last person I wanted to see right now. Just remembering everything he caused made me feel even worse, so I buried my face deeper into my knees.

“Go away…” I muttered in a trembling voice.

However, as expected, Yu didn’t listen, and his footsteps grew louder, meaning he’d gotten closer. I didn’t even look at him, but he was probably leaning against the same wall as me.

“What happened to you, Touka?” he asked in a soft tone I had never heard from him before.

“Leave me alone…”

Still, I didn’t respond beyond telling him to go. All I wanted was to be alone, and I thought he’d eventually get bored and leave—but he didn’t.

“…That guy bothers you because you can’t use mana, doesn’t he?”

His guess caught me off guard. I was so surprised that I quickly looked up at him, my eyes still teary and my face pitiful, as he continued speaking.

“And it’s probably not just him. He must have a bunch of annoying underlings who join in too.”

I said nothing. Not a single word came out of my mouth. Neither the shock nor the nerves let me speak.

I wondered how he’d figured it out, but if I thought about it, it wasn’t that strange. I was the only hunter at the academy who used firearms against monsters, and I had never shown even the slightest sign of using mana—or any technique that required it, not even the most basic ones.

Seeing it that way, it was pretty obvious I lacked the talent to handle mana like the other students.

“Looks like I was right,” said Yu, still speaking softly. “Tell me, Touka—why did you want to become a hunter?”

That last question carried weight. It wasn’t just because I wanted to kill monsters for glory or help people like my classmates, nor was it about fame or fortune like so many others.

My reason for becoming a hunter went far beyond that, and it all began with my older sister—and one of my deepest traumas.

“I…”

Maybe it was because Yu sounded more empathetic than usual, or maybe because I finally wanted to tell someone my story, but the words started to come out at last.

It was time to tell someone what happened ten years ago.