Chapter 50 - Bountiful Breakfast
The shrill beep of my phone's alarm clock jolted awake, its piercing tone grating enough to compel to shut it off almost imdiately. My groggy fingers fumbled over the screen, silencing the noise as I glanced at the ti—6:00 a.m. Sharp. While I felt a sliver of pride for waking up on the first try, a lingering haze of drowsiness clung to like cobwebs.
Forcing myself upright, I pushed the covers aside and shuffled to the window. Drawing back the curtains, I was greeted by a breathtaking sight: the soft, golden glow of dawn stretching across Xyraxis's tallic horizon. The sun's rays painted the reflective surface of the planet with hues of pink and amber, a rare and fleeting spectacle. It wasn’t that I disliked mornings, but my habit of endlessly scrolling through social dia often stole these tranquil monts away from .
I grabbed my towel and toiletries, stepping out of my room into the silent corridors. As I walked past Neil Orbeus’s door, I couldn’t help but notice the stillness. Most mornings, seven out of ten to be exact, Neil would knock on my door, insisting we head to university together. Today wasn’t one of those days. Neil was still in the hospital, recovering under Fei’s watchful care. They’d promised to follow the licensure tournant through social dia, offering their thoughts and prayers to Myrrh and from afar.
Knowing today would be no ordinary day, I adjusted my routine accordingly. A brisk, icy shower jolted fully awake. I shaved with precision, took care of biological necessities—one that ended up consuming far more ti than expected—and returned to my room to put on my uniform. Almost an hour had passed, and my adjusted schedule was already beginning to crumble.
“Eating at the cafeteria would take too long,” I muttered, brushing a hand through my damp hair. “I’ll just grab a sandwich from the convenience store on the way.”
Once I finished suiting up, I made my way to the nearby convenience store and picked up a ham and egg sandwich paired with a bottle of oolong jasmine tea. The tea, subtle yet refreshing, had quickly beco a favorite of mine—it wasn’t too sweet, sour, or bitter, making it the perfect redy for the odd aftertaste lingering in my mouth. I silently thanked Myrrh for recomnding it to yesterday.
Feeling prepared for the day ahead, I decided to walk to the coliseum. The streets were already alive with activity, and a growing crowd lined up outside the venue, eager to secure seats in the audience. From what I’d seen on social dia, the winners of this licensure tournant often gained recognition for producing high-quality WAIFUs and support units, making them valuable not only to Xyraxis governnt agencies but also to major corporations scouting for talent.
As I approached the coliseum, I spotted Agent Feena in the distance, easily recognizable in her signature KAWAII uniform. She stood amidst a group of similarly dressed agents, her pink hair catching the early morning light as she animatedly conversed with her colleagues. She looked busy, and since I needed to head backstage to et Myrrh, I decided not to disturb her and continued on my way.
Just as I started to relax, a familiar voice rang out, bright and unmistakable.
“Out of the waaaaay!”
I barely had ti to react before I turned to see Dianca—her vibrant blue hair bouncing with each step, her green eyes wide with determination, and, to my astonishnt, a piece of toasted bread clenched between her teeth as she sprinted toward .
“Oh crap!” I yelped. “Waaah!”
Before I could dodge, she collided with at full speed. The impact sent us both tumbling to the ground in a chaotic blur of limbs. When the world stopped spinning, I realized I was lying flat on my back—with Dianca sprawled on top of . My face burned as I beca acutely aware of the soft, warm pressure of her dium-sized chest against .
“This… this feels like sothing straight out of a romantic cody,” I muttered under my breath, recalling countless scenes from novels and animated movies that played out exactly like this.
With my vision completely obstructed by Dianca’s chest, my other senses seed to heighten in compensation. A delicate, sweet rose scent mixed with the faint powdery aroma of her perfu wafted from her skin, while a trace of her salty sweat lingered on my lips—an unintentional taste that made my face flush even harder. Before I could process the situation, a chorus of disgruntled muttering reached my ears from a small group of boys nearby.
“It should have been , not him! It’s not fair!”
Their words only made the scene feel even more absurd.
“Ouchie,” Dianca finally groaned, lifting herself off and settling onto the ground. She rubbed her nose with a pout, her expression a mix of pain and embarrassnt. “It… hurts.”
I scrambled to sit up, my face still warm from the encounter. Looking at Dianca, I noticed her blue hair had beco slightly unkempt, strands sticking to her damp forehead, and her makeup kit had spilled across the floor. To top it all off, her precious toasted buttered bread now lay on the ground, dirty and unfit to eat.
“D-Dianca?” I stamred, still trying to gather my thoughts.
Her green eyes lit up as she t my gaze, and she gave a sheepish smile. “Ah, Zaft! Nice to see you here! Good morning!” she said cheerfully, scratching the back of her head. “Sorry for crashing into you. I was in a bit of a hurry.”
“It’s fine,” I replied, brushing myself off before bending down to gather her scattered belongings. I picked up a lipstick and a small brush, trying to steady my voice. “A-are you okay?”
She nodded enthusiastically, her hands moving quickly to retrieve her spilled items as well. “I’m okay!” she said, her smile unbroken despite the ss around her.
Once we had collected all the scattered items, I carefully placed them back into her makeup box, which was decorated with a giant pink heart. I handed it back to her with a small smile. “Here.”
“Thanks,” Dianca replied warmly, taking the box from my hands. But as her eyes drifted to the side, she suddenly gasped. “Oh no, my breakfast!” she cried, staring at the ruined toast on the ground with visible dismay.
Dianca glanced nervously left and right, seemingly oblivious to the fact that several onlookers were still staring at us, so whispering excitedly about the commotion. Her gaze locked onto the dirty toast lying on the ground. With an air of determination, her fingers crept toward it, inch by inch, as though she were trying to snatch an elusive treasure.
“It’s not yet five minutes!” she declared with confidence, lifting the toast as she prepared to take a bite.
“Wait! Waaait!” I cried, lunging forward to grab her wrist just in ti. “Are you out of your mind? Have you completely forgotten about your public image? Why on Xyraxis would you even think about eating that? That’s disgusting!”
Dianca tilted her head, her wide green eyes brimming with innocence, much like a confused puppy. “Really? I don’t mind. My fans are braver. So of them even lick my bathwater bottles.”
“Ew!” I recoiled, my stomach churning. “Okay, that’s way too much information. But seriously, don’t eat that!”
Her expression softened into a pout. “This is my breakfast,” she argued, her tone almost pleading. “I’m scheduled to comntate all day. If I don’t eat, I’ll run out of energy!”
“Yeah, but not that bread!” I exclaid, my voice rising in disbelief. With a resigned sigh, I rummaged through my bag, my fingers closing around the ham and egg sandwich I’d bought earlier. It was supposed to be my breakfast—a small comfort to start this hectic day.
But looking at Dianca, with her earnest desperation and the lingering traces of chaos from our earlier tumble, I knew what I had to do. A pang of loss hit as I silently bid farewell to my al. Still, I couldn’t deny that she’d already given an odd sort of “breakfast” earlier—her floral scent and, well, the “energy boost” from the collision. Maybe this was the universe’s way of demanding an equivalent exchange.
“Here,” I said, holding out the sandwich.
Her face lit up with pure delight. “Wow! You’re so sweet, Zaft! Thank you!” she chirped, her voice brimming with genuine gratitude. Without hesitation, she unwrapped the sandwich, took a generous bite, and closed her eyes in bliss.
“Seriously…” I muttered under my breath, scratching my head in second-hand embarrassnt. The curious stares from passersby were hard to ignore, their murmurs lingering in the air like static. Wanting to escape the awkward spotlight, I made a quick decision. “Let’s go,” I said, gesturing ahead.
Dianca nodded, her steps falling in line with mine as we started down the wide corridors of the coliseum. The polished tallic walls shimred faintly under the overhead lights, and the low hum of distant chatter echoed around us.
“Anyways, Zaft,” Dianca began, her voice cheerful and lively. She turned her green eyes to , her smile as radiant as ever. “Why are you here so early? Unlike , who has to be here an hour ahead to help run the tournant, you examinees still have a whole hour to assemble in the arena.”
“I wanted to talk to Myrrh about our ga plans,” I replied, a confident smile spreading across my face.
“Oh, ga plans, huh?” Dianca clapped her hands together, her expression lighting up with excitent. A faint blush colored her cheeks as she added, “So, you’ve got more than one ace up your sleeve!”
“You could say that,” I replied with a smirk, enjoying her enthusiasm.
As we reached the staircase, Dianca suddenly gasped, her expression shifting to a mix of realization and delight. She paused at the base of the stairs and turned to , her blue hair cascading over her shoulder. “Oh, I have to take this way upstairs. Good luck with your battles, Zaft! And give my regards to Myrrh!”
“Got it,” I said, giving her a determined nod.
With a playful grin, she blew a flying kiss my way before bounding up the steps. Her light, energetic movents carried her upward as I watched her disappear around the corner. Shaking my head with a small smile, I raised my hand in a parting wave, already feeling the buzz of anticipation for the challenges ahead.
As Dianca disappeared up the stairs, her vibrant presence fading like the tail end of a bright cot, a sudden chill crept up my spine. It was a suffocating sensation, sharp and unrelenting, like a dagger’s edge pressed against my back.
I turned slowly, my movents stiff with unease, and there she was.
Myrrh.
She stood several paces away, her posture rigid and commanding. Her arms were crossed firmly beneath her ample chest, accentuating both her presence and her displeasure. Her icy blue eyes were half-lidded, narrowed into a piercing glare that felt like it could bore straight through . The cold intensity of her stare sent an involuntary shiver through , as though the temperature around us had dropped.
There was a smile on her lips—small and sharp—but it wasn’t warm or welcoming. No, it was the kind of smile that hid a brewing storm, a silent warning wrapped in feigned sweetness.
I swallowed hard, my mind scrambling to figure out why she was so upset. Whatever it was, one thing was clear: she wasn’t amused. She was pissed.
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