Critical Hit to Pride and an Ice Cream That Never Came

The hours passed in the blink of an eye.

The trio of protagonists found themselves heading back to their new clan refuge: Sora's house.

However, there was something very peculiar on both girls' heads. Each had a bump almost as big as their head.

What had happened?

Minutes before leaving the institute, Airi had intercepted them to properly scold them because the ruckus caused by both girls had been mercilessly reprimanded, and as the cherry on top, she had hit both girls on the head.

Sora sighed as he watched his two companions walk with slumped shoulders. The otter Shiori seemed to have balance problems from the weight of her bump, while the kitten Mochi murmured purification prayers against the delegate.

"Airi really has no mercy when it comes to landing critical hits," Sora thought while scratching his head.

Sora stopped for a moment and looked at both girls. They really looked pitiful; Shiori was even walking somewhat hunched over.

"Hey, stop making those faces, you'd think you lost your characters," Sora said while releasing a small smile as he placed a hand on both girls' shoulders. "Airi is just doing her job as delegate... though I admit her strength level is absurd."

Mochi looked at him with teary eyes, rubbing her bump. "It's just... It hurts, Sora," Mochi sobbed. "A cleric shouldn't be punished for taking care of her husband's health!"

"I was just snooping through the institute's files... I wasn't even on the battlefield..." Shiori added with a hollow voice, though she trembled slightly. "I need an update patch... or ice cream."

Sora let out a soft laugh.

"Okay, I understand. So how about we stop by the store near the house? I'll buy whatever recovery item you want. Consider it a reward for surviving your first day of classes with me."

The mention of ice cream and free food made Mochi's cat ears perk up and Shiori's eyes gleam for a second.

Sora felt relieved; his duty as Guardian was fulfilled... or so he thought.

As they turned the corner of the street, the atmosphere changed.

A group of girls with modified uniforms, bags full of shiny keychains, and loud laughter blocked the way. At the center of this Elite Guild stood Mika Tamaki herself.

Mika stopped upon seeing them, and her bored expression transformed into a smirk of superiority upon noticing Sora. Her friends approached, examining the trio with looks that cast social judgment upon them.

"Oh, look who it is!" one of Mika's friends exclaimed, pointing at Mochi. "Isn't that the girl who was shouting through the speakers? Her hairstyle looks like it came straight out of a 90s fashion magazine."

"And the gray-haired one?" another added, laughing. "Did you drag her out of an internet cave, Yamamoto? She smells like cheap coffee, and you can tell she has no social life."

Sora felt the joy he had just injected into Mochi and Shiori evaporate instantly.

Sora stepped forward, positioning himself between the girls and Mika's group. His Guardian instinct activated immediately; he couldn't allow the bonus he'd worked so hard to restore to drop back to zero.

"Hey, that's enough," Sora said with a firm voice, though he tried to stay calm. "If you have a problem with what happened at school, it's with me. You don't have to mess with them."

However, Mika, who until that moment had remained silent observing her nails, looked up.

"Are you protecting them, Yamamoto? How cute." Mika walked toward him, stopping just inches away, forcing him to notice her expensive perfume that contrasted with the street smell. "But let me tell you something: this isn't one of your little games. There are no health bars here, unlike in those little games of yours..."

Mika turned toward her friends, but her words were still directed at Sora, like poisoned arrows. "Leave him, girls. In the end, Yamamoto is just doing what he does best: picking up scraps."

Sora felt a sting in his chest, but Mika wasn't finished. She leaned close to Sora's ear, lowering her voice so the blow would be more personal.

"Look at them carefully, hero. You surround yourself with broken people because you're afraid to admit that you're broken too. A cleric who can't tell reality from fantasy and a library rat who hides behind a screen... They're pathetic. And you're the most pathetic of all for believing this guild of losers is worth anything..."

The silence became absolute. Not even Mika's friends dared to laugh this time; the attack had been too personal, too real. Sora searched for something to say, a counterattack... but found nothing. Mika's words had struck a blind spot in Sora.

Shiori lowered her head, gripping her backpack straps until her knuckles turned white. Mochi, for her part, hugged her wooden spoon against her chest, but it no longer seemed like a weapon, just a useless piece of wood that couldn't protect her from the truth.

Mika observed Sora's expression. She expected to see fury, but only found a deep disappointment that made her feel a strange twinge of discomfort in her stomach.

"H-hey Mika, don't you think that's..." one of Mika's friends said, visibly uncomfortable—even for her, it had been too much.

"Let's go. We've already wasted too much time with low-level people," Mika murmured, turning around abruptly.

Her friends followed in awkward silence, leaving Sora and the girls completely alone.

Sora tried to say something to cheer them up, but the words got stuck in his throat. The reward ice cream no longer seemed like a good idea.

That afternoon, the trio walked the rest of the way without saying a single word.

The server of happiness had crashed.