Reality Check
"Ughhh!! ...Ah—fuck! Okay, yeah, that was a terrible idea."
I collapsed against the gym wall, gasping for air. Sweat clung to my skin like regret.
I knew it would hurt—I just didn’t think it’d hurt this much.
But hey, at least I wasn’t passed out on the floor. That had to count for something. Progress, right?
The thing is... enhancing muscle recovery didn’t mean the soreness vanished. It just meant I’d be slightly less miserable slightly faster.
Which, at the moment, felt like getting punched in the face and being told, "Don’t worry, the swelling won’t last more than a day."
I groaned and slid further down the wall, practically melting into the floor.
My limbs felt like noodles. Shaky, overcooked, angry noodles.
God, why didn’t I pay more attention during health class?
This wasn’t even weightlifting. It was barely above waving at someone for too long.
For a second, I genuinely wondered if I was just... stupid.
But no. I was smart. People told me that all the time.
"You’re quick on your feet."
"If you ever drowned, it’d be from overthinking, not swimming."
Backhanded compliments, maybe. But still—smart.
Just... not fit.
At least, not Velcrest fit.
I tilted my head back against the wall and stared at the ceiling, watching a droplet of sweat slide down my temple into my ear.
"Gross..."
Everything hurt. Not in the "good burn" kind of way. More like "your body is seriously questioning your life decisions" kind of way.
The gym lights buzzed faintly overhead. Other cadets were still at it—grunting, punching, flipping, sparring with enough energy to power a small city.
And me?
I was out here in the corner like some tragic background character, slowly becoming a puddle.
So this is what the bottom of the food chain feels like.
Still, I gritted my teeth and dragged my aching legs toward the student cafeteria. Each step felt like a rebellion, but I refused to give in.
Just a few more steps. A little food. That’s all I needed.
But then—
"...What the hell?"
Taped to the door in big, bold letters was a notice:
[The Student Cafeteria will be open starting March 20th.]
It was closed.
CLOSED.
After all that pain and effort, the one thing I was looking forward to was just... not happening.
Sure, it made sense. Most students hadn’t arrived yet—why run a full cafeteria for five people?
But still!
Oh, right. Even if it was open, I wouldn’t have been able to eat anyway.
To get food, you needed a Cafeteria Meal Ticket. Scholarship students got them for free.
Me? I had nothing.
No ticket. No money. No lunch.
"Ah... fuck!"
I wanted to scream. Or cry. Or both. Maybe even bark at the moon while I was at it.
I checked my pockets, hoping for something—anything. Nothing.
No coins. No ...energy bar. Not even a sad, lint-covered breath mint.
Just empty pockets and crushed dreams.
I leaned forward and smacked my forehead gently against the closed cafeteria door, letting out a muffled groan. The metal surface was cool—comforting, in a bleak, "life is pain" kind of way.
"This place really doesn’t pull punches, huh?"
I stayed there a moment, letting the cold seep into my forehead like it could freeze the ache in my bones. Then, with a sigh worthy of a tragic drama protagonist, I peeled myself away from the door and dragged myself toward the nearest bench.
If I couldn’t eat, I could at least sit and contemplate the terrible series of decisions that had led me here. A sort of spiritual snack.
The bench creaked as I flopped down, arms dangling at my sides like dead weight. A couple of upperclassmen jogged past, barely sweating, chatting about combat scores and elemental affinities like it was nothing.
I stared at them, hollow-eyed.
"...Show-offs."
I closed my eyes for a second and tried to focus on breathing.
In. Out. In. Out.
Simple.
Then came the grumble.
Loud.
Rude.
Betraying.
My stomach let out a growl so loud it startled a bird off a nearby window ledge.
"Shut up," I muttered, glaring down at my own body. "You had your chance. You should’ve burned more efficiently."
And right as I was about to spiral into a hunger-induced existential crisis—
My body ached. My stomach was a black hole. I didn’t have a single damn penny.
Was this... despair?
And that’s when I saw her.
"Oh my!"
Huh?
I turned my head. Standing there was the illusion—no, the vision—of Professor Lena.
Ah. So this was it. I’d finally snapped. Hallucinating the only person in this place who didn’t look at me like I was a cockroach.
Was this how people in the desert felt when they saw an oasis?
But... wait. She was running toward me?
No, that wasn’t right. I was supposed to hallucinate her standing gracefully, bathed in a halo of light or something—not sprinting across the courtyard in heels like some kind of magical school nurse.
"Cadet Rin! Are you alright?!"
That voice. That wasn’t a mirage. That was real.
I blinked. Twice. Thrice.
Yep. Real. She was crouching in front of me now, face etched with concern as she scanned me from head to toe like she was trying to diagnose an ancient curse.
"I... uh. I’m fine."
That was a lie. My stomach immediately betrayed me with another monstrous growl.
She raised an eyebrow. "You look like you’re dying."
"I’m... just digesting the air. Slowly."
That earned me a look. The kind that said, "I’m trying to decide if I should laugh or drag you to the infirmary."
Professor Lena sighed and stood up. "You’re pale. You’re shaking. And judging by the fact that you’re glued to that bench like a limp sock, I’m guessing you haven’t eaten?"
"Not... since yesterday."
"Why?"
"I didn’t know the cafeteria wasn’t open yet. Also, I kind of... don’t have meal tickets."
There. I said it. The humiliating truth in all its broke-ass glory.
"In short, I’m... so hungry."
"...What?"
Yeah, I had no pride left. Survival came first.
---
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Actually, Lena had been following Rin since this morning.
She hadn’t meant to—not at first. But after bumping into him, she couldn’t stop thinking about what the Chairman had said.
"Does he resemble your late younger brother?"
She hadn’t noticed it at first. But after hearing those words, something shifted.
His frail but determined figure, the way he tried too hard to act fine, even his favorite food—it all reminded her of someone she’d lost.
She knew it wasn’t right. If anyone saw her lurking around her like some overly concerned ghost, they’d definitely get the wrong idea. Or worse, the right idea.
But damn it—she couldn’t help it.
Rin was clearly struggling, stumbling through Velcrest like a cat dropped in a pool. He didn’t know how to swim here, and unlike the other cadets with their personal lifeboats—money, talent, connections—Rin had shown up with duct-taped paddles and a brave face.
And it pissed her off.
Not at him, no. At the system. At the smug, self-satisfied elite students who barely spared him a glance. At the faculty who pretended not to notice.
So yeah. Maybe she’d gone a little overboard watching him train this morning. And maybe she’d snapped a pencil in half when he collapsed during cooldown and muttered something like, "Guess this is how you die with abs."
Now, looking at him crumpled on the bench like a tragic origami project, Lena made her decision.
"Come with me."
Rin blinked, sluggish. "Wait, where—?"
"To the restaurant."
"The what?"
"Don’t worry, Cadet Rin," she whispered. "You’ll eat soon."
And in her heart, she added, ’I won’t let you fall.’
...And just like that, Rin Evans was saved from death yet once again.