The guild test gave Ji-hu a rank. D. Fire and water. Unstable.
That should have been the start of something.
Instead, it was nothing.
Hana: I talked to my guild master.
Ji-hu: And?
Hana: She said no.
He nodded. Wasn't surprised.
Hana: It's not personal. Valiant Storm only takes recruits who test high. People who show immediate potential. You're...
Ji-hu: Late. Weak. Not worth the trouble.
Hana: I didn't say that.
Ji-hu: You didn't have to.
She wanted to argue. Didn't. Because he was right.
Hana: There's the Awakened Haul. Once a month. Small guilds, new guilds, they go there looking for people. It's not Valiant Storm but it's something.
Ji-hu: You think anyone will want me?
Hana: I think you're worth more than a piece of paper says.
He almost believed her.
---
The Awakened Haul happened once a month at a warehouse on the edge of town.
It was where unaffiliated awakened went when no guild picked them directly. Guilds sent representatives to watch, evaluate, and sometimes make offers. Small guilds. Desperate guilds. Guilds that couldn't afford to be picky.
Ji-hu signed up because there was nothing else.
He didn't know Hana followed him there.
---
She stood on a rooftop across the street, hidden in shadow. Watched him walk through the warehouse doors. Watched him disappear inside.
She'd been training for three years. She knew things now—about power, about awakening, about how people pulled out their abilities. Some needed anger. Some needed fear. Some needed a memory so painful it burned through them like fire. Some just had it naturally, like breathing.
She couldn't teach him that. Couldn't stand next to him and make him find it. He had to do this alone.
Didn't mean she had to leave.
She sat on the rooftop and waited.
---
Inside the warehouse, dozens of awakened stood in loose groups.
Most were young—teens, early twenties. Ji-hu at twenty-two blended in. Didn't feel like it though.
Guild representatives walked through the crowd. Some wore expensive gear. Others looked like they'd scraped together just enough to afford a booth. They carried clipboards. Took notes. Pointed at people they wanted to see more from.
When a representative pointed at you, you stepped forward and showed them what you could do.
A girl no older than sixteen stepped up. She closed her eyes. When she opened them, fire whipped around her arm like a living snake. It cracked through the air. The representative nodded and led her away.
A boy made the ground shake. Another moved so fast he left afterimages. Another summoned water that twisted into shapes—a bird, a wolf, a dragon.
Representatives wrote things down. Made offers. Led them away.
Hours passed.
Ji-hu stood in the back and watched.
---
By afternoon, he still hadn't been called.
He watched a teenager cry when no one picked her. Watched another beg. Watched a third grab a representative's arm and get shaken off like dirt.
He didn't do any of that. Just stood. Waited.
A representative finally pointed at him.
Ji-hu stepped forward. Raised his hand. Fire sparked at his fingertips—orange, weak—and died. He tried for water. A few drops. Nothing more.
The representative looked at his clipboard. Checked his file. Shook his head.
Representative: Next.
Ji-hu stepped back.
---
On the rooftop, Hana watched the warehouse doors. Watched people walk out—some smiling, some crying, most just walking. She didn't see Ji-hu.
She waited.
---
By evening, only a handful remained inside.
The ones whose fire sputtered. Whose water dripped instead of flowed. Whose bodies shook with effort just to produce a spark. The leftovers.
Ji-hu was among them.
The representatives packed up their booths. Lights clicked off. The organizer looked at the remaining few and sighed.
Organizer: That's it. Check the board next month. Maybe someone'll have room then.
The others shuffled out. Ji-hu didn't move.
Organizer: You hear me? We're done.
Ji-hu: I heard.
He stood anyway. Walked toward the exit. Didn't know where he was going.
---
On the rooftop, Hana saw the warehouse lights go dark. Saw people trickle out until there was no one left.
No Ji-hu.
She almost went down. Almost ran inside. Almost broke her promise to herself to let him do this alone.
Then the door opened again.
---
A woman walked into the warehouse.
Maybe thirty. Tired eyes. Dirt on her clothes like she'd come straight from work. Her hair was pulled back messily. Her hands were rough—calloused, strong. She looked around the empty space and frowned.
Woman: Did I miss it?
Organizer: Haul's over. Come back next month.
Woman: I was working. One of my shops needed help. Thought I'd make it.
Organizer: You didn't.
She sighed. Rubbed her face. Noticed Ji-hu standing there.
Woman: What about him?
Organizer: Leftover. No one wanted him.
She looked at Ji-hu. Really looked. Not calculating. Just... looking.
Woman: You got a name?
Ji-hu: Ji-hu.
Woman: You eat today?
Ji-hu: Doesn't matter.
Woman: That's not what I asked.
He didn't answer.
She studied him for another moment. Then nodded.
Woman: Come on.
Ji-hu: Where?
Woman: My shop's got a back room. Nothing fancy, but there's a bed. And I was about to make dinner. You eat, you can help.
Ji-hu: You don't know me.
Woman: I know you're standing in an empty warehouse at night with nowhere to go. That's enough.
Ji-hu: Why?
She considered the question. For a second, something flickered in her eyes—pain, maybe, or memory. Then it was gone.
Woman: Let's just say I know what it's like to be leftover.
She turned and walked out.
Ji-hu stood there for three seconds. Then followed.
---
On the rooftop, Hana watched them leave.
She didn't know the woman. Didn't know her guild or her shop or anything about her. But she saw the way the woman looked at Ji-hu. Not like a product. Not like a liability. Like a person.
Hana exhaled. She hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath.
She stayed on that rooftop for a long time after they disappeared into the night. Then she stood, wiped her eyes, and walked back to Valiant Storm.
He was safe.
That was enough for now.
---
END CHAPTER 8