Left in Rage

A girl stood before him, her dark eyes watching him curiously. Her black hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, a few strands sticking to her forehead from exertion. She wore a sleek black-and-white running outfit that hugged her athletic frame, and a simple white cap shaded her face.

Even with the minimal effort, she was striking—easily in her early twenties, with an effortless beauty that seemed to belong in a different world from this quiet riverside.

In her hand, she held a small white towel, offering it to him.

Akira's gaze flickered to the towel, then back to her face. There was no hesitation in her eyes, no ulterior motive that he could see.

Just an open, casual kindness.

That, in itself, made him wary.

"...Thank you," he said, his voice steady as he took the towel. He dragged it across his forehead, wiping away the sweat that clung to his skin.

"I haven't seen you around here before," - She said, watching him curiously.

"I'm from a few blocks away," he replied, his tone flat but not dismissive.

"But I visit different spots to train from time to time."

"Oh, I see," - She said, nodding.

"I should do that too. I'm getting sick of running the same road every time."

There was something about the way she spoke—light, effortless, as if this conversation was the most natural thing in the world.

But to Akira, nothing was ever that simple.

Then she asked,

"Can I sit? I just finished my run, and I'm pretty tired myself."

She motioned toward the grass beside him.

Akira didn't answer right away.

"Why?" - That was the first thought that crossed his mind.

"Why she talking to me? What was her goal?"

A girl like her—someone pretty, someone normal—had no reason to approach someone like him.

"Not unless she wants something. Is she just friendly? Is she the type who enjoyed small talk with strangers? Or is there something else?"

His instincts stirred.

"A scout? A STAR in disguise? Someone watching him?"

It never even occurred to him that she might be talking to him simply because he was handsome.

Because she was drawn to him.

Sylara had mentioned it before—that he was handsome to when they first meet.

He had ignored it then, just as he ignored it now. Looks had never mattered to him. And yet, he couldn't understand why else she would be here, asking to sit next to him.

His eyes turned faintly white for a fraction of a second—a pulse of energy, a subtle check. Mana? Hidden power? Danger?

Nothing he didn't feel nothing. She wasn't awakened. No mana, no killing intent.

Just a girl catching her breath after a run.

He exhaled slowly, then gave a slight nod.

"Yeah. Sure."

She sat down next to Akira, stretching her legs out with a relieved sigh.

"Ah… I'm finished now."

She wiped a bit of sweat from her forehead and exhaled deeply.

"Running is more of a mental challenge than a physical one, you know? But it makes me feel great afterward."

Akira didn't respond. He simply sat there, staring out at the river, listening.

She didn't seem to mind his silence. Instead, she continued, almost as if thinking aloud,

"I mean… no matter how hard we normal humans train, the only real benefit is staying healthy. We're nothing compared to them—the changed humans. The awakened ones, right?"

Akira's gaze flickered slightly, but he didn't turn his head.

He already knew where this was going.

"Yeah," he finally muttered. "The world has really changed."

"Right?"

She laughed dryly, leaning back on her palms.

"Now everyone's always panicking, always stressed. What if a dungeon pops up in their house? What if a monster breaks through at school? It's always a what if."

She let out another sigh, this time heavier, more tired.

"And you know what's funny?"

She shook her head, lips curling into a half-smile.

"Even with all that, my parents still nag me about school. Get good grades, think about your future, don't waste your time."

She scoffed.

"I really hate them sometimes. They just don't understand me at all. What's the point of school? What's the point of their nagging when everything could end tomorrow because of some monster?"

Akira turned his head slightly, his black eyes finally meeting hers.

"That's why you hate them?" His voice was quiet, but there was something in it—something sharp.

She blinked. "I—"

"Because they nag at you?" His tone was calm, almost unreadable.

She suddenly felt small under his gaze.

"That's not a reason to hate them," he said, his voice carrying something heavier now. "That's a blessing."

She opened her mouth but hesitated. There was something about the way he said it, something that made her heart tighten.

A cold breeze brushed past them.

She swallowed. "What do you mean?"

Akira looked away, back toward the river. His voice was quieter this time.

"You think their nagging is annoying," - He said.

"But it means they care."

"It means they believe you have a future." His fingers curled slightly.

"When you lose that… when no one's waiting for you to come home, no one's telling you to eat properly, to sleep early, to take care of yourself…"

He exhaled, shaking his head.

"You'll miss it."

She stared at him. The casual way he spoke, the emptiness in his tone—it was something she hadn't expected.

She had thought of Akira as just another guy her age, someone who would roll his eyes and complain the same way about school, about nagging parents, about pointless expectations. But the weight in his voice, the emptiness behind his words—it wasn't what she expected.

Not from someone who looked like he should be joking about skipping class, not carrying something far heavier than she could understand.

She suddenly felt foolish.

Complaining about school, about her parents' nagging—it felt so small compared to whatever he had been through.

Before she could say anything—

BOOM.

A loud, sharp noise cut through the air.