The Party

Hina, Kaito, and Mei crouched behind a hedge of well-kept bushes, staring at the Ishida house.

It was less of a house and more of a glass and steel fortress. Soft classical music floated through the air, mixed with the clinking of glasses and the sound of dozens of adults laughing.

The party was in full swing.

"I can't do this," Mei whispered, trembling. "Hina, look at that. There are waiters. Real waiters. What if they catch us?"

"No one is going to catch us," Kaito said, his voice surprisingly steady. He had the strap of his art backpack gripped tightly. "We're just three lost teenagers looking for the bathroom. Right?"

Hina nodded, though her heart was beating to the rhythm of the classical music. The ring on her finger was warm, but not with anger; it was humming with the proximity of power, with her focused intention.

"Kaito is right. We get in, execute the plan, and get out. Remember the positions."

They had spent the entire afternoon planning. The plan was simple, based on Hina's investigation and Kaito's brain.

Position 1 (Mei): The Lookout. Mei would stay at the side gate, hidden near the garage. Her only task was to watch the street and ensure no curious neighbors saw them enter through the back.

Position 2 (Kaito): The Distraction. Kaito would stay in the back patio, near the large sliding glass doors of the living room. If Hina had trouble or if Mr. Ishida was too guarded, Kaito would create a distraction.

Position 3 (Hina): The Agent. Hina would go in, find Mr. Ishida, execute the "Direct Touch," and get out.

"Ready?" Hina whispered.

Mei looked like she was going to cry, but she nodded. Kaito gave a shaky sigh and nodded too.

The Reject Club split up.

Hina watched Mei run to the garage gates. She gave Kaito ten seconds to circle the house and reach the patio. Then, taking a deep breath, she walked down the side of the house, passing the catering staff smoking near a van, and entered the back area.

It was like another world. A pool lit by blue LEDs, white wicker furniture, and through the glass walls, the party.

Kaito was already there, hiding behind a large stainless steel grill. He gave her a thumbs-up.

Hina looked through the glass. The room was packed with adults in expensive suits and party dresses. Waiters passed with trays. She didn't see Ren. And she didn't see Mr. Ishida.

"He must be in the office," she murmured.

She found a sliding glass door that led to a less busy hallway. She opened it. The warm air and noise hit her. She stepped inside.

No one noticed her. She was just a shadow. She felt exactly like the "Ghost Girl" Ren had called her.

But this time, it was useful.

She passed through a hallway, following the loudest voices, and emerged in the main living room.

And there he was.

Mr. Ishida stood near a marble fireplace, holding a glass of whiskey, laughing at something a man in a suit said. He looked powerful, happy, and completely in control. The sight of him made Hina's stomach turn.

He was twenty feet away. A crowd of adults between them.

How am I going to get to him? Hina thought, starting to panic.

"Take another one of these."

Hina froze. The voice came from behind her. She turned, and her heart stopped.

Ren.

He was standing there, but not like King Ren of the school. He was wearing a simple black button-down shirt and black slacks. He looked like one of the waiters. In his hands, he held an empty silver tray. He looked exhausted. And miserable.

Their eyes met.

The confusion on Ren's face was total. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He was looking at Hina as if she were a real ghost.

"Ren! What are you doing standing there?" Mr. Ishida's voice cut through the room. He wasn't looking at Hina; he was glaring at his son. "The champagne glasses are empty. Be useful!"

Ren flinched, as if he had been slapped. He looked away from Hina, grabbed two empty glasses from a nearby table, and walked toward the kitchen, defeated.

His father was making him work as a waiter at his own party. Humiliating him in front of his colleagues.

The sight solidified Hina's resolve. The anger she felt wasn't for herself.

It was for Ren.

Now, she thought.

Mr. Ishida was turning to grab another appetizer from a passing waiter. He was distracted.

Hina started to move. She slipped between two men arguing about golf. She passed a woman with a diamond necklace. She was three feet away.

Then, the man Mr. Ishida was talking to moved, blocking her path.

Hina stopped, trapped.

She looked through the glass window. Kaito was watching. He saw Hina trapped. He saw Mr. Ishida about to turn and walk away.

Kaito acted.

He grabbed a large empty metal tray that the catering staff had left near the grill. He lifted it and threw it onto the stone floor of the patio.

CLAAAAANG-THUD!

The sound was deafening. It sounded like a car crash.

Inside the room, the music stopped. Every head, including Mr. Ishida's, snapped toward the window.

"What the hell was that?" Mr. Ishida barked, annoyed.

He had his back to Hina.

It was her chance.

While everyone looked at Kaito (who was now cowering behind the grill), Hina lunged the final few steps.

She "tripped" over her own feet.

"Oops!" she shouted, falling forward.

She threw her hands out to balance herself. And she grabbed Mr. Ishida's arm.

The ring on her finger. The sleeve of his suit jacket. And her desperate fingers closed tight around his wrist, where his shirt was pulled up.

Skin on skin.

Contact was made.

The ring exploded with heat, so hot it almost burned her.

Mr. Ishida spun around, shocked by the touch. "What...?"

Hina looked directly into his eyes. Time seemed to stop. She poured all her intention, all her focus, not with anger, but with cold, surgical precision.

Remember. Remember what it is to fail. Remember what it is to be humiliated. Remember what it is to be weak.

The heat vanished from the ring. The magic transferred.

Mr. Ishida stared at her. His face, previously red with annoyance, went white. His eyes lost focus. The whiskey glass slipped from his hand and shattered on the marble floor.

"Get... get off me!" he snarled, but his voice was weak. He pushed her away.

Hina stumbled back. "S-sorry, sir! I tripped!"

She didn't wait to see his reaction. She turned and ran.

She wove through the kitchen, past the waiters staring at her in confusion. She burst out the back door and sprinted across the lawn.

She only stopped when she was back in the patio. Kaito grabbed her arm. "Did you get it?"

"I got it," Hina gasped.

"Let's go."

They ran. They picked up Mei at the garage gate—she was already running, having heard the noise—and the three didn't stop until they were three blocks away, hiding in a dark park, their hearts beating like drums.

They did it. The heist. The spell.

They were safe.

From the other side of the Ishida living room, Ren watched everything.

He saw the ghost girl appear out of nowhere. He saw her be the target of his father's anger.

He saw the art boy create a distraction outside.

And he saw, with terrifying clarity, Hina's eyes meet his father's.

He saw her touch his father.

And he saw his father—the strongest, scariest man he knew—freeze, go pale, and drop his glass, as if he had seen a ghost.

Ren didn't know what Hina was. But he knew that what she said in the gym—you will fail—had come true.

And he had just watched her do something much, much worse to his father.