Sunlight spilled across the classroom in golden sheets, weaving warmth into the still air, interrupted only by the low hum of idle chatter and the tapping of pencils. At the center of it all sat the TransferSquad—Victor, Yuzuki, and Kiana—huddled together.
"No more… I don't want to look at any more formulas," Kiana groaned, slumping dramatically over her textbook like it had personally betrayed her.
Victor sighed, resting his cheek against one hand. "Didn't you sleep through the entire fourth period?"
"Yeah, but my dreams were full of numbers chasing me," she muttered, her voice muffled by paper. "They had arms, Victor. Arms."
"You really hate math that much, huh?" Yuzuki chuckled, his voice easy, teasing. "Don't worry—I'll lend you my notes."
"Okayyy, but you gotta teach me too," Kiana said with a grin, wrapping her arms around his shoulders with zero hesitation. Yuzuki immediately stiffened, cheeks twitching, still not used to her touchy affection.
Before he could wriggle free, Mei approached the table, each step quiet, her hands holding a trio of compact, polished bento boxes. Her face held the typical neutral mask—but her eyes… her eyes shimmered faintly with something softer.
She cleared her throat. "...These are for you."
The boxes were set down one by one—Kiana's, then Yuzuki's… and finally Victor's. "For yesterday," she added in a voice that barely lifted above a whisper.
Kiana gasped like a child on her birthday. "Woahhh! You made us food?! Thanks, Mei!"
"You're supposed to say, 'You shouldn't have,'" Yuzuki laughed, already opening his with a grin. "But yeah… seriously, thanks."
Mei looked down quickly, hiding the red blooming across her cheeks. Her fingers fidgeted by her side as Victor opened his box and simply… stared at it.
A few seats away, whispers began to crawl through the room like smoke.
"There she is again."
"Why are they hanging out with her?"
"She must've done something to them…"
Mei's expression wilted. Her lips pressed together as she stepped back.
"I… I should go."
But a hand—elegant, gloved—gently rested on her shoulder.
"You can't leave yet. Victor hasn't eaten your lunch," Eden said with a melodic smile, practically gliding as she guided Mei into the seat beside him. Despite Mei's flustered protests, Eden planted her opposite Victor with a graceful finality.
"Hmph, such a rude husband I have," Elysia giggled, arms draped dramatically around Victor's neck, her head nestled atop his with glittering eyes. "Aren't you going to thank her properly?"
Eden carefully unwrapped Victor's bento—and it was visibly more generous than the others. Overflowing with meat, rice, and artful garnishes.
"...Hey, why is his bigger?" Kiana narrowed her eyes.
"Because he's a man," Mei mumbled. "He needs to eat more… probably."
Yuzuki opened his mouth to protest but took one look at Victor's physique, then at his own. He quietly resumed eating.
Victor finally reached for his chopsticks.
"Ah-ah." Eden intercepted them and lifted a piece of meat to his lips. "Say ahh~"
He blinked. "…Ahh."
The entire group went still.
Victor chewed slowly under everyone's stunned gazes. Eden smiled knowingly.
"So? How is it?" Eden asked sweetly—for Mei's sake, not her own.
Victor turned to Mei, eyes steady. "It's really delicious."
"Boo!" Elysia huffed. "Little Mei made it and Eden fed it to you? That's cheating! I wanna try too!"
Victor chuckled, easing the mood. "It's true. Eden feeding me might've improved the flavor. Makes me wonder how much better it would be if you did it."
Mei's face exploded with color. "W-What? T-Thank you, but… I-I can't…"
Victor blinked, genuinely confused.
Kiana, meanwhile, looked like she was on the verge of tears, biting her chopsticks and glancing between Eden, Mei, and Victor like a cat betrayed.
"Nngh… I'm so jealous," she grumbled.
"You might have one wife and one girlfriend, but at least I got the beeeest wife right here!"
She threw an arm around Yuzuki and rubbed her cheek against his.
"…Yeah," Yuzuki said flatly, too emotionally drained to process the wife comment.
Mei opened her mouth to interject—but stopped. Across the room, more whispers. More judgmental stares.
Her chest tightened.
"I… I have to go," she murmured, rising quickly.
Victor's hand closed gently around her wrist. "Lunch isn't over. What's the rush?"
She hesitated. "I have to help with the PE exam prep," she mumbled, slipping free before they could say more.
Yuzuki watched her go, then set down his chopsticks. "Sure is lively all of a sudden."
"People really need to mind their own business," Kiana huffed. "I should—"
"No," Victor cut her off, accepting a spear of asparagus from Eden. "You'll make it worse for her."
"He's right," Eden agreed, brushing his hair off his cheek. "You want to protect her? Then don't draw fire to her."
"What then? Let them keep whispering? Let them keep hurting her?"
"I already asked Eden for help," Victor said. "We wait. For now… we just keep her from feeling too alone."
Elysia leaned forward against his back, her voice soft. "You're suffering more than anyone… aren't you?"
Victor didn't answer.
ELSEWHERE...
From behind the dim panel near the corridor's end, faint glimmers of syntheticlight blinked in measured intervals—hidden, watching.
Within the classroom, the scene unfolded: Victor smiling faintly. Kiana pressing against Yuzuki. Mei's hesitant warmth. Laughter and murmurs wrapped in a fragile sort of peace.
The observer didn't move.
Eyes focused. Memory buffer compiling. Transmission active.
"Daily log upload complete," came the emotionless voice through the secure neural channel. "Subject Cluster-7 continues to deepen internal trust loops. Unexpected accelerations in interpersonal bonding. Emotional cohesion rising—potential destabilizer."
A pause.
Then, the response—measured, slow, deliberate.
"I see," said a woman's voice, smooth as cold glass. "And your assessment?"
"Patterns suggest autonomous behavior. Their actions deviate from projected obedience profiles. Subversion may be imminent."
Another pause—heavier this time.
"Then observe. Nothing more."
"...Acknowledged."
"You know what to do, dear. If they stray too far… But only then."
"Yes, Mother."
The transmission closed.
A final glance back at the classroom.
Then the figure vanished down the hall—quiet, unseen, unknown—leaving behind only a whisper of static and the faint glint of a silver-tailed insignia, briefly illuminated by a sliver of light