The cold wind of winter crawled beneath Ilya’s blankets on the first day of Hakus, only three weeks before his soul would finally be freed from the methodical suffering of school.

  His dark eyes snapped open after barely two hours of sleep. Merchants roamed the streets deep into the night, shouting and begging for the attention of any sleep-deprived “customer” — likely earning themselves at least a hundred ancient curses per night — accompanied by the occasional barking of nearby dogs.

  Gaijin was a busy city. The second largest in the country, it thrived on noise, movement, and a population that never seemed to rest.

  Ilya spent the first minute staring at his blanket, briefly considering inhaling forbidden substances in an attempt to make himself sick enough to avoid the worst nine hours of the day. The thought was interrupted by a familiar feminine voice.

  — Ilyachius, honey? Breakfast is ready. Hurry up, or the food might run away!

  With a tired groan, the boy finally rose from his bed, tugging down his slightly lifted shirt before making his way downstairs. A warm scene greeted him.

  Elisa Moren stood by the counter — a relatively young woman with dark hair and eyes, traits Ilya had inherited from her. Her skin was clear, and not a single strand of gray hair was in sight, an impressive feat considering her status as a mother.

  — That nickname again, Mom? I’m not a kid anymore, you know? — Ilya muttered, running a hand through his messy hair.

  — I know that, sweetie, but you’re still my kid, — his mother replied, transferring a heap of scrambled eggs onto a piece of bread sliced in half. — And did you sleep in your casual clothes again? I swear, do I buy your pajamas for nothing?!

  Ilya sat down in front of his designated plate, taking the napkin offered by his mother, and taking a bite from his bread. When done swallowing, the boy looks up at his mother, not bothered by her slightly irritated tone.

  — Can I recall something? I did tell you that I didn’t actually need five different matching pairs of pajama pieces… — Ilya remarks, while bringing another bite of his breakfast to his mouth.

  Elisa crosses her arms, leaning against the counter, the surface cold due to the almost freezing breeze coming from the window crack. The woman adjusted a loose strand of hair, eyeing the teenage boy in front of her, then sighed in concession.

  — Fine, I’ll make sure to buy just three pairs next time. Also, your father is going to be out for the whole day, you know how his work is. I’ll be here when you come back from school, though. Despite being an election year, my boss let me work on-line for a day, probably due to my hundreds of prayers. — Elisa said, while tapping her fingers against the counter beside her.

  — On-line work, huh? That’s good to hear, I guess. I really wish I could “watch” classes from here, too. — Ilya muttered, finishing his breakfast and standing up, bringing the plate to the sink and taking a detergent bottle from the counter.

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  His mother gently takes the plastic bottle from him, ruffling his already messy hair and starting to clean the plate herself.

  — Go ready yourself for school, okay, sweetie? You can’t be late for the third day in a row, that’s a shame. — Elisa says, while a warm smile appears on her face, making her appear younger than she really is.

  Ilya pauses, but decides to take the act of kindness, nodding and walking upstairs to his room, changing to his uniform, brushing his teeth and finishing packing his backpack.

  It was a busy day at Gaijin, as always, while Ilya walked to school holding his backpack tightly. The walk is not long, considering how his school is also located in the Middle Ring of the city, the most average of the three rings.

  Eventually, the boy arrived at Gekkaijin, the most famous school across the Middle Ring. As soon as he stepped inside, Ilya was met with an eruption of chatter from everywhere, followed by the ring of a bell, signaling the students to head inside their classrooms.

  The dark-haired student headed inside his classroom and took a seat by the window, silently staring at the leafless trees under a gray, cloudy and depressing sky, a perfect weather to suffer or sleep during classes. However, again, his thoughts are interrupted by his closest friend, Nero.

  A fair-skinned boy around Ilya’s height emerged from the small crowd of classmates. His long hair reaches his shoulder, and forms a gradient between blonde and brown with brown on top, while his eyes are as blue as the ocean, like they’ve never experienced a hint of malice. Nero’s expression carried an excited smile as he quickly pulled out his phone, from an average price brand with some kind of game wallpaper.

  — Ilya, my sweet little Ilya, look what I found! — Nero almost shouts, while he practically shoves the phone in Ilya’s face with a grin that extends from ear to ear. — A real Sheuth sighting, down there in the Outer Ring! Look, it was filmed by one of the residents there, and it’s attacking a man!

  Ilya looks at the phone, squinting his eyes to avoid being blinded by the bright light. He slowly guides the phone away from his face, and zooms in the video with two fingers.

  — You realize that’s bullshit, right? I can probably edit something like that on my PC if you give me a few hours, inspiration, food and some money. — Ilya says while leaning back on his seat, looking up at Nero with an almost burnt out expression. — And it’s not even eight in the morning, dude, I don’t wanna see a man getting… mauled down or whatever just because a bored shut-in had time enough to edit that. Don’t you have any studying to do?

  Nero sits on the empty desk close to Ilya, pocketing his phone and crossing his arms, while his eyes narrow down to a fake glare.

  — Well, just so you know, Sheuth’s are pretty much real! Can you refute the fact that their stories are told all around the world? — Nero replies back, his fake glare shifting to a knowing smirk, like he just caught Ilya in a logic trap. — And studying is useless, I’m almost passed.

  — There are countless stories of the world being cursed by multiple gods, and that doesn’t mean all of them are real, or else most people would be sent to at least eighteen versions of purgatory. Also, I won’t even comment about what you said after that, since you’re failing in Physics again. — Ilya does not waste time answering back, and that shatters Nero’s smirk into an annoyed look again, but that’s quickly shaken off by the second bell, now signaling the start of classes.

  Nero sighed, shrugging and hopping off the desk where he was seated. Then, the blonde boy smiled, looking at Ilya like the past two minutes hadn’t happened.

  — I’ll see you at lunch, alright? It sucks being in different classes, you gotta change to 2-C! But yeah, bye, Ilya. — Nero smiled and waved, walking towards the door and turning to give Ilya one final glance.

  Ilya waved from his seat, then was met with the sound of the second door opening, and the History teacher — Geran, a man with an almost completely white balding hair, round glasses and an old style of clothing rarely seen since three decades ago — came in, clearing his throat and starting to unpack his brown, dusty bag.

  Meanwhile, Ilya looks back at the window, and feels a strange feeling that makes his arm hair stand upwards, somehow. For a second, the shadows caused by the trees feel tightening too long, and the leafless trees stop shaking, even though the wind almost made one of them fall some minutes ago.

  However, that sensation slowly fades away when Geran starts his class, which would usually make Ilya curse him and go to sleep, but this time, makes Ilya almost sigh in relief that it was just sleep deprivation from the night merchants.