Chapter 29 - Cooking Noodles
The good news was that no one was hurt; we’d all walked away unscathed from the explosion. The bad news, however, was that Cindy and her partner Remuel were now stuck with the punishment of cleaning the simulation room after class—a job that looked as exhausting as it sounded. Myrrh, being Cindy’s friend, volunteered to help. Fei and Neil jumped in as well, and with a bit of peer pressure, I found myself pulled into the fray, thanks to Fei's puppy-eyed begging.
Metal shrapnel littered the wide, scuffed floor of the simulation room, each piece glinting under the fluorescent lights. We moved slowly, bending and picking up the jagged pieces scattered across the expanse. Once the floor was clear, we took to scrubbing away the faint trails of soot and grime that had splattered onto the walls. My thoughts wandered as I cleaned, wondering why the room—a place capable of simulating entire cityscapes and conjuring training dummies that could shoot paintballs—couldn’t at least auto-clean itself.
“Huhu, I’m really sorry, girls. You all got dragged into this because of my partner,” Cindy said with a sniffle, brushing her reddish-orange afro away from her eyes.
“It’s okay, Cindy. We’re friends,” Fei replied, her own black afro bouncing as she nodded with a smile.
Myrrh placed her hands on her hips, giving Remuel a sharp look. “Besides, it’s not your fault. It’s your partner’s.”
Remuel, whose ash-red afro was streaked with charcoal dust, lowered his gaze and mumbled, “I—I’m sorry.” He bowed, looking thoroughly defeated.
Remuel had definitely gotten the worst of it. Professor Bao had scolded him for what felt like ages, and Cindy hadn’t let up on him either. He hadn’t told anyone that Cindy’s Ultimate ability was essentially a self-destruct button—a fact he chose to keep to himself until the last second. Things might have been different, maybe even avoidable, if he’d only said something sooner.
All of us were sporting afros now—a quirky, unplanned effect of standing too close to the blast radius. Even Professor Bao had been strutting around with an afro earlier, though she’d already left, likely brushing down her hair with a sigh.
I’d just finished mopping up the last dusty patch on the floor when I overheard the others talking.
“Man, now there’s no way I’ll make it to the Licensure Examinations Tournament,” Cindy lamented, her voice tinged with frustration. She ran her fingers through her reddish-orange curls, sighing. “How can I compete when my Ultimate ability is literally a self-detonating bomb?”
“Oh! So you were planning to join the tournament too?” Fei’s eyes brightened as she clasped her hands together, her black afro bouncing. “Myrrh and I are both in!”
“Well, best of luck to you two,” Cindy said with a warm smile, though her shoulders slumped a little. “What about your partners? You need support unit students, right?”
Myrrh placed a hand on her hip and glanced at Cindy with a hint of confidence. “Isn’t it a bit early to choose our partners for the tournament?” She pulled out her phone, which displayed the tournament’s official memo. “According to the rules here, the tournament is split into two parts. First, there’s the written exam. Only the top one hundred WAIFUs and support students move on to the second round. That’s when we get to pick partners from the elite hundred.”
“Ah, so there’s quite a tough screening process, huh?” Fei remarked, her brow furrowing. “But what happens if a WAIFU or support unit can’t find a partner?”
“It’ll be random pairings,” Cindy explained, recalling the first-day chaos with a sigh. “Just like when we first got here.”
Fei’s cheeks reddened slightly as she clasped her hands together. “B-but, I’m going to choose Neil as my partner,” she said with an innocent smile. “I feel safe with Neil by my side.”
Neil’s eyes lit up, and he took Fei’s hands gently, his gaze softening. “Thank you, Fei,” he murmured, clearly touched.
Myrrh chuckled, crossing her arms. “Provided he passes the written exams first.”
At this, Neil’s face fell, as if he’d taken an invisible blow to the stomach. “Ack!” he cried, straightening up with renewed determination. “I-I’ll do my best to pass, so Fei and I can team up!”
“That’s the spirit!” Fei cheered, pumping her fists with a grin.
Suddenly, Myrrh turned toward me, her blue eyes gleaming with a mysterious, almost mischievous sparkle. I wasn’t sure what she had in mind, but her gaze held me in place, making me feel as if she was sizing me up for something.
Just then, I felt a nudge at my side. Little Remuel, elbowing my stomach gently, looked up at me. “Hey, Zaft,” he asked, with a touch of curiosity in his voice. “Are you planning on joining the tournament?”
“I…” I hesitated, crossing my arms and staring at the polished floor. “I haven’t really thought about it. But the way things stand, I doubt I will. We’d be up against second- and third-years too, right? Feels like an uphill battle for us freshmen.”
“You’ve got a point.” Remuel forced a smile, scratching the back of his head. “Now I’m getting nervous too. We’re only at Level 5; I heard sophomores can hit up to Level 20. And juniors? They’re capped at Level 30.” He let out a small laugh, though there was no joy in it. “Maybe… maybe I’ll just watch this year and give it a shot next time.”
Great. Now I’d dragged Remuel into my doubts and discouraged him from even trying. It wasn’t like I’d convince Fei, Neil, or Myrrh to give up their goals, though. They each had their reasons for wanting to compete, especially Myrrh.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her. Myrrh’s expression had clouded over, her usual spark dimmed into something more serious, even troubled. I wondered what thoughts were going through her mind. But just as quickly, her mask slipped back into place, and she gave a bright smile as Fei and Cindy chatted beside her.
It left me wondering. Maybe the tournament was more than just a test for her. Something personal. Something she wasn’t ready to share with the rest of us.
I lay sprawled across my bed, the dim light of my room casting soft shadows on the walls. My cup noodles sat on the desk, steam curling lazily as I waited for them to cook. To pass the time, I scrolled mindlessly through my phone, watching video after video—useless content, really, but exactly the kind of stuff that helped my brain switch off after a long day.
Suddenly, my messenger app chimed, pulling me back to reality. I opened it up to see Neil’s name flashing.
Neil: Here’s the link for the ramen shop application. Since I got fired last week, they need a new hand at the restaurant.
Me: Thanks. Can’t believe they really fired you over what you said last time.
Neil: Doesn’t bother me. The place was toxic anyway. Are you sure you’re up for working there, though? It’s night shifts, which might mess with your studying. Myrrh might even scold you if you start slacking.
Me: Myrrh has nothing to do with my job choices. Everything will be fine.
Neil’s reply took a moment, and I could imagine him hesitating, always trying to nudge me in a different direction.
Neil: But… why won’t you just join the examination tournament instead? Internships with the Vanguard or the investigations bureau come with allowances—probably five times more than you’d make in that sweaty restaurant.
A pause. Then, as if he couldn’t help himself:
Neil: Myrrh’s really excited to join. She might miss having you there with her.
I stared at his message for a moment, my fingers hovering over the keyboard before I finally typed my response.
Me: Okay. I don’t care.
I shut my phone screen off with a sigh, tossing it beside me on the bed. The room grew quiet again, but Neil’s words lingered. Part of me wondered if he was right, if Myrrh would care that I wasn’t there. But I pushed the thought aside, focusing on the gentle waft of steam from my noodles. Some choices had to be made alone.
I set my phone down, resisting the urge to reply. Another message beeped in from Neil, but I ignored it, feeling the weight of our conversation hanging over me. With a sigh, I moved to my study desk and lifted the cup of ramen, now perfectly steeped after six minutes.
As I took the first bite, a thought hit me like a bolt of lightning.
“Oh, right. I should probably let my parents know I’m taking on a part-time job,” I muttered.
I picked up my phone again, quickly dialing my mom’s number and switching to loudspeaker so I could still eat my noodles. After a few rings, her familiar voice filled the quiet room.
“Hey, Mom,” I began. “Uh, I just wanted to tell you I’m going to start working part-time.”
The line went silent for a beat. Then, her voice shot back with that sharp tone I’d almost expected.
“Zaft Callahan, what the hell are you thinking? Are you gambling again? Playing at the casino is not a job!”
I winced. One sentence, and already I was on the receiving end of a lecture. “N-no, Mom, it’s a real job. Nothing shady, no gambling, I swear.” I took a steadying breath. “It’s just… cooking.”
“Cooking what? Don't tell me it's meth! Are you a drug dealer now?”
I nearly choked on my noodles, coughing to clear my throat. “Of course not! What would even make you think that?”
She sighed loudly, the disappointment almost tangible over the line. “Are you disrespecting us, Zaft? We’re working ourselves to the bone to keep you enrolled on that planet! Aren’t the allowances your father and I send enough?”
“It’s… enough,” I mumbled, but the words came out small, fragile against her accusations. “B-but I—”
“Then focus on your studies! Don’t do anything reckless that you’ll regret,” she snapped before hanging up with a hard click.
The silence that followed was heavy, pressing down on me. I set the cup of ramen aside, the noodles no longer as comforting as they’d seemed.
I sighed, leaning back in my chair. My parents had a point. They’d given me the chance to study without needing to work, and I should be grateful for that. Maybe they were right; I’d have more freedom to focus on my studies, maybe even enjoy some actual downtime instead of juggling a job. Nᴇw ɴovel chaptᴇrs are published on N(o)vᴇl(F)ire.nᴇt
Now that I thought about it, the internship seemed like a solid choice. It wasn’t just relevant to our studies—being combat training and all—but with the recent Cosmic Beast attacks, it was clear the government of Xyraxis needed as many combat-ready WAIFUs and support units as they could muster. And, honestly, if I had to do something for extra cash, I might as well make it something that connected back to my future.
As I finished the last bite of my cup noodles, my phone beeped, lighting up with a new message. I glanced at the screen and nearly choked at the sender’s name. It was Myrrh.
Myrrh: Hey, are you free this Saturday? Let’s have our first date as payment for my debt.