Somehow, despite how overwhelming everything had been, Markara was starting to feel… welcome.
He had gotten to know Mei, Elizabeth, and a handful of other students who didn't seem to mind that he came from a completely different status. Even seeing Thida again—after everything—felt surreal, like something out of a dream.
And now, as he followed a younger boy down a wide school hallway.
The boy turned his head with a smile.
"My name's Ren. Nice to meet you!" he said cheerfully in fluent English, his accent lightly Japanese. "I'm in Year 9!"
Markara blinked, a little surprised by the friendly energy.
"Ah… Nice to meet you, Ren," he replied, smiling back without thinking.
As they walked, Markara began to notice more signs pointing toward the junior section of the campus, different colored banners, lockers slightly shorter in height, and younger students chattering nearby. It suddenly clicked.
'Wait… this school has a secondary department too?'
He glanced around, a bit wide-eyed.
'Just how big is this school?'
Somehow, his new club was located next to the junior section.
Then Ren spoke again, his voice carrying slightly ahead of them.
"Senpai, do you know about the club?"
He didn't even turn around to ask—just kept walking casually with his hands folded behind his back, like a guide on a relaxed stroll.
Markara scratched the back of his head, slightly thrown off by being called Senpai for the first time.
"Uh… I have no idea!" he said with a small, sheepish laugh.
Ren didn't react much—just kept walking with the same relaxed pace.
"Have you heard about the point system?" he asked next.
"Yep!" Markara replied. "Mei, one of my friends explained it to me during lunch... kind of."
There was a beat of silence before he continued, curious.
"So, what club are we in, exactly?"
Ren didn't answer immediately.
They turned a corner, passed a few more classrooms, and eventually stopped in front of a simple wooden door. Taped to it was a handmade banner with bold brushstrokes:
Literature Club
The words were written in both Japanese and English, slightly crooked as if done by hand.
Ren slid the door open slowly and stepped inside without hesitation.
"This is our club," he said simply, his voice calm but proud.
Markara peeked inside, unsure what to expect.
The room was… small. Really small.
A single table stood in the center, surrounded by mismatched chairs. Tall bookshelves lined the walls, crammed with old books—some leaning, some stacked sideways, most of them covered in a thin layer of dust. The wallpaper was peeling in places, and the air smelled faintly of paper and age.
"What… is this?" Markara asked, pointing dramatically at the room in disbelief.
Ren, completely unfazed, stepped inside with confidence.
"Our room. From now on."
Markara froze.
This was it?
Before he could object, Ren added cheerfully, "Anyway, I finally got to join a club, so I can start training my skill."
Markara blinked. "Skill?"
Then, with a confident grin, he puffed out his chest and thumped it proudly.
"Ah—your reading skills, right? Don't worry! I'm here to help!"
But Ren frowned, one eyebrow twitching in mild disapproval.
"What are you even saying, Senpai?"
"Eh… then writing?" Markara offered quickly, trying again. "Don't worry! Your Senpai is smart! Though… I'm still struggling with the new language myself."
He grinned awkwardly, scratching his cheek.
"Don't you know anything about this club, Senpai?"
Markara stiffened. "Huh?"
"The club is just for concealment," Ren said bluntly.
Markara's eyes widened.
Concealment?
From a 15-year-old?
He turned to get a better look at the younger boy. Ren was short, with tidy brown hair and a calm but oddly serious expression for someone his age.
Markara gulped, suddenly unsure of what kind of "literature" this club was actually involved in.
"Uh… can you explain it to me?" he asked awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.
Ren stopped mid-step and turned to him, clearly baffled.
"Wait—you don't know?" he asked, eyes wide. Then he groaned, placing a hand dramatically on his forehead. "Seriously? I thought you were supposed to oversee me or something!"
He flopped into one of the rickety chairs and let out a sigh.
"Someone told me Senpai was the new president of this club," Ren continued, gesturing toward him with a hint of exasperation. "That a transfer student was coming in to lead it, and I'd be the first member."
He threw his hands up.
"But now it turns out I have to explain everything to you?!" Ren groaned, throwing his arms up again in disbelief.
Markara let out a nervous chuckle.
'Yeah… this definitely sounded like something Akira would do behind his back.'
Markara sighed, then gave Ren an apologetic smile.
"Hmm… sorry, Ren. Looks like I got dragged into this too," he said with a laugh. "But hey explain it to me, and I'll do my best, promise!"
He reached out and placed a reassuring hand on Ren's shoulder, flashing a wide, dependable smile the kind that made him look more like a reliable older brother than someone who was utterly clueless.
"Fine !"
After a short explanation, Markara found himself staring blankly at Ren, utterly speechless.
Disbelief washed over him like a wave.
"So… let me get this straight," he said slowly, trying to process the situation. "This club… is just a cover?"
Ren nodded without hesitation. "Yup. A concealment club. Our activities are technically off the record."
Markara leaned back a little, eyes wide. "And the school... actually knows about this?"
"They do," Ren said casually, as if it were the most normal thing."And if we complete the assigned tasks, we get rewarded with points, school currency."
Markara was still trying to wrap his head around that, but then Ren's tone shifted.
His usual cheer disappeared, replaced by something quieter—more serious.
"We're what they call Guardians. People born with superstition-based abilities. We protect living beings from supernatural entities."
Markara's jaw dropped.
"And it's not just about fighting," Ren added. "Sometimes, we're a bridge. Between the living and the supernatural. We help them understand each other… or step in when things go wrong. We assist both sides."
Markara stood frozen for a moment.
Then, very slowly, he stepped forward and placed a hand on Ren's forehead.
"You know, Ren," he said with a straight face, "when people have a fever, they sometimes hallucinate."
Ren blinked.
Markara nodded seriously. "It's okay. I'll take you to the nurse's office."
"Ah—what the hell!" Ren suddenly shouted, throwing his hands in the air.
Markara jumped at the outburst.
Ren spun around dramatically, stomping toward a dusty corner of the room like a kid whose favorite toy had just been broken.
"I knew this would happen! They told me you were supposed to be dependable! A capable, cool transfer student!" he ranted, flailing his arms as he paced. "And now you're treating me like I have a fever?!"
Markara blinked, watching the short boy throw a full-blown tantrum in a room that barely had working lights.
Ren finally plopped into a chair with a dramatic sigh, arms crossed tightly over his chest.
"This is a disaster…" he muttered under his breath.
Just then, a soft rustle broke the silence.
Both of them turned toward the sound.
A folded envelope had been pushed under the door—slipping in quietly, like something out of a spy movie.
Markara blinked.
"Hmm… Ren, there's a letter," he said flatly, pointing at it with the same plain expression as someone spotting a spider on the wall.
Ren's head snapped up.
"Eh? A letter?"
He rushed over, snatched it off the floor, and his eyes immediately lit up with excitement.
"Yes! This is perfect!" he beamed. "A great demonstration opportunity! Looks like we've already got our first task!"
Markara stared at him, deadpan.
"You're way too happy about this."
Ren ignored him, already tearing the envelope open with eager hands and a wide grin.
He skimmed the contents quickly, his eyes darting across the page. Then, without warning, he sprang to his feet.
"Let's go, Senpai!"
Markara blinked. "Umm… yes! Wait—go where, exactly?"
Ren was already heading for the door, waving the letter in the air like a flag. "No time for questions! Just follow me!"
Markara sighed, grabbing his bag with a groan.
"Every time someone says that, it usually leads to something weird…"
Still, he trailed after Ren, half-excited and half-concerned about what kind of "literature club activity" he'd just signed up for.