The city was different during the day.
The gray morning light softened the edges of things, made the grime and the desperation seem almost picturesque.
Vendors shouted from sidewalk stalls, their voices competing with the rumble of early traffic and the distant wail of sirens. The smell of exhaust and street food mixed in the cool morning air, frying oil, roasting meat, the sharp tang of spices that Hoshimi couldn't name. Sunlight struggled through a layer of gray clouds, casting everything in flat, shadowless light.
Shopkeepers were opening their doors, sweeping sidewalks, setting out displays of goods that no one would buy. Office workers hurried past with their heads down, their faces blank, their eyes fixed on the ground ahead.
People were staring.
Not openly. Not aggressively. Just... watching. Their gazes would slide over the group, catch on the Academy insignias, on Lucy's empty sleeve, on Edward's gleaming metal legs, and something would shift in their expressions.
"Witches."
Kira pressed against his side, her hand still clutching his sleeve. Edward walked slightly behind, his prosthetics clicking against the pavement. Lucy drifted at the edge of the group, her gaze fixed on the ground. Neila walked beside Hoshimi, her posture relaxed, her eyes constantly moving.
A man in a business suit crossed to the other side of the street rather than pass too close. A mother pulled her child behind her, shielding him with her body as if the mere proximity of witches might contaminate him. A group of teenagers laughed nervously, their phones already out, recording, uploading, turning their existence into content.
"This is stupid," Neila announced. "I can't believe I was forced to do this."
"Then why did you, don't you have enough money to back out of this?"
"The thing is that, even if I have all of the Mirlo money, that doesn't mean that I can bribe them willy nilly, most of the Mirlo possessions aren't in money, I'll need sell off an estate or two which seems awfully tedious, unless I sell them for dirt cheap. Which I'm definitely not."
Hoshimi glanced at her. Her face was smooth, composed, but something flickered in her blue eyes, something old and tired and carefully buried.
"Anyway." She waved a hand dismissively. "This is also tedious. Just a different kind of tedious."
They passed a convenience store. A fast-food restaurant. A pawn shop with barred windows and a sign that read "WE BUY GOLD" in faded letters. The city went about its business around them, a careful bubble of space maintained by the government escorts, by the weight of their presence, by the unspoken threat of what they represented.
Four government witches flanked them, two ahead, two behind, all in plainclothes that didn't quite hide their military bearing. They carried concealed weapons and wore earpieces that connected them to a command center somewhere in the administrative district. Hoshimi had learned their names on the first day.
Sam walked beside him, that unnatural smile of his, still stared at Hoshimi like it was a separate entity.
The people on the street watched them pass.
Witches.
Kira's grip on his sleeve tightened. Her breathing had gone shallow, her shoulders hunched. She was staring at the ground, trying to make herself smaller, less visible.
"It's okay," Hoshimi said quietly. "Just keep walking."
"I know," she whispered. "I know. I'm trying. I'm trying."
They passed a newsstand, and Hoshimi caught a glimpse of the headlines. His own face stared back at him from the front page, a grainy photograph from the banquet, his violet eyes glowing, the sword in his hand blazing. The headline read: KING ARTHUR'S COMEBACK: HEX ACADEMY STUDENT REVEALED AS LEGENDARY REINCARNATION.
Neila noticed his gaze and smiled. "They're selling your face now. Congratulations. You're famous."
"Not that I asked to be."
"Neither did Sophia." Her voice was light, but her eyes were hard. "Fame finds you anyway." She patted his back. "I think you should make use of your fame, why not try selling merchandise?"
"That's a stupid idea."
"I wouldn't mind buying a pin with your face stamped on it."
"You're making fun of me, aren't you?"
"I am."
They turned a corner, and the street opened up into a small plaza. A fountain stood at its center, a modest thing, concrete and tile, water trickling from a simple spout. Children played around its edge, their laughter bright and uncomplicated. Parents sat on benches, watching.
A mother stood, gathering her children with quick, efficient movements. A father positioned himself between his family and the witches, his jaw tight, his eyes fixed on Hoshimi with undisguised hostility.
Hoshimi kept walking.
Edward walked in silence.
His metal legs made soft sounds against the pavement. A mechanical rhythm that didn't quite match his breathing. His dark eyes remained fixed ahead, seeing nothing.
Lucy drifted.
She moved like she wasn't entirely sure she was still in her body, like she was watching herself from somewhere outside, observing the movements of a stranger who happened to share her face. Her empty sleeve swayed with each step. Her remaining hand hung at her side, fingers still curled.
They passed through the plaza and into a narrower street, this one lined with small shops, a bakery, a tailor, a store selling handmade jewelry. The vendors here were less guarded, more curious.
An old woman sweeping the sidewalk outside her shop paused to watch them pass, her eyes lingering on Lucy's missing arm, on Edward's gleaming prosthetics, on Kira's trembling form.
Kira pressed closer to Hoshimi with every stare, every whisper, every phone raised in their direction. Her breathing had gone shallow, her pupils dilated, and he could feel the faint thrum of her mana, unstable, volatile, barely contained.
"I don't… I don't like going outside."
"Breathe," he said quietly.
"I'm trying."
"Slower. Deeper. Count to four on the inhale, hold for four, exhale for four."
She tried. Her breathing steadied, slightly. The thrum of her mana eased, slightly. But her grip on his sleeve didn't loosen, and her eyes kept darting to every face that turned their way.