The sound of sirens cut through the stillness of the ruined school.
Not loud.
Not chaotic.
Controlled.
Measured.
The kind of sound that didn't cause panic—but signaled that everything was now under control.
The Geist Patrol Task Force had arrived.
Figures in dark, tailored uniforms moved swiftly through the shattered corridors of the building. Their coats bore faintly glowing lines—intricate sigils that pulsed softly with each step they took.
"Perimeter secured."
"Residual poltergeist activity detected—low levels."
"Deploy containment tags."
Small talismans were placed along cracked walls and broken windows. Each one emitted a low hum, stabilizing the area and preventing any lingering entities from reforming.
Students were escorted out in quiet lines.
No screaming.
No chaos.
Just quiet efficiency.
Inside the destroyed classroom, the air was thick with dust.
Broken desks lay scattered across the floor. Glass crunched underfoot. The faint remnants of the battle still lingered like a shadow that refused to leave.
Yuma sat slumped against a half-collapsed desk, his breathing uneven.
Blood traced down the side of his face.
His arm trembled slightly, not from fear—but from exhaustion.
"…Still alive," he muttered under his breath.
A small voice came from beside him.
"…Barely."
Stud hovered near his shoulder, unusually quiet compared to his usual loud commentary.
"…You humans really go all out," he added.
A few feet away, Serena lay against a fallen chair.
Her body was still.
Too still.
Her eyes were open—but unfocused.
Her fingers twitched faintly, as if her body hadn't fully caught up to reality yet.
Yuma's chest tightened.
"…Serena."
She didn't respond.
By the shattered window, Alumna stood calmly, already on the phone.
"Yes. Send a medical unit immediately."
A brief pause.
"…Two injured. One took direct impact from a defensive-type."
His eyes shifted slightly toward Serena.
"…Prioritize her."
He ended the call and turned.
His gaze landed on Stud.
"…You."
Stud froze midair.
"…Why do I feel targeted?"
Alumna pointed toward Yuma.
"Hide. In his pocket."
Stud blinked.
"…Excuse me?"
"In his pocket," Alumna repeated. "Now."
Stud floated there for a second, clearly offended.
"I have dignity, you know."
Alumna's expression didn't change.
"You also have a high chance of being captured and studied if seen."
A long pause.
"…Pocket it is."
Stud slipped into Yuma's jacket, muttering.
"This is temporary. I refuse to live like spare change."
Yuma exhaled weakly.
"…Thanks."
"…Don't thank me. I'm saving myself."
Footsteps approached.
Fast.
Precise.
The medical team arrived.
They moved with practiced efficiency—white uniforms, compact equipment, no wasted motion.
"There!"
Two medics rushed directly to Serena.
"She's the priority."
"Check her vitals."
"Careful—possible internal trauma."
One stabilized her neck.
Another checked her pulse.
A third began wrapping her arm.
Serena flinched slightly.
"…I'm fine…"
"No," one medic replied gently but firmly, "you're not. Please stay still."
Her lips pressed together.
She didn't argue again.
Another medic approached Yuma.
"Can you stand?"
Yuma tried.
His body protested immediately.
His legs shook—
Then gave out.
The medic caught him before he hit the ground.
"Easy."
"I'm fine," Yuma insisted weakly.
The medic gave him a look.
"You're not fine either."
Yuma didn't reply.
He didn't have the energy to.
Stretchers were brought in.
Serena was lifted first.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Even the smallest movement made her wince—though she tried to hide it.
Yuma noticed.
His hands clenched slightly.
"…Serena…"
She didn't look at him.
"…I said I'm fine."
But her voice lacked strength.
Yuma was placed onto another stretcher beside her.
As they were wheeled out of the classroom—
The hallway had already been cleared.
Task Force members stood aside, their expressions unreadable.
The building no longer felt like a battlefield.
It felt… contained.
Outside, an ambulance waited.
Not a normal one.
Its exterior was lined with faint glowing sigils, pulsing softly like a heartbeat.
The doors opened.
"Load them in."
Serena first.
Then Yuma.
As the doors began to close—
Yuma turned his head slightly.
He caught one last glimpse of the school.
Broken windows.
Cracked walls.
Faint traces of something unseen lingering in the air.
Then—
The doors shut.
Inside the ambulance, everything was… quiet.
Too quiet.
Machines hummed softly.
A medic adjusted Serena's bandages.
Another checked Yuma's arm.
Neither of them spoke.
Stud's voice came from inside Yuma's pocket, low and subdued.
"…Well."
A pause.
"…That could've gone worse."
Yuma let out a weak breath.
"…Yeah."
His eyes drifted toward Serena.
"…It could've."
Later That Evening
The house was quiet.
For once, there were no arguments.
No shouting.
No chaos.
Just stillness.
Yuma sat on his bed, holding a controller.
The glow of the TV flickered across his tired face.
Beside him, Stud floated lazily in the air, completely focused on the game.
"LEFT! LEFT!" Stud shouted.
"I am going left!" Yuma snapped.
"That's your other left!"
"I only have one left!"
Moments later—
"YES!" Yuma raised the controller slightly. "I won!"
Stud froze.
Slowly turned.
"…My boy."
Yuma blinked.
"…What?"
"That," Stud said, "was an unfair combination of luck, poor design, and questionable reflexes."
"…You lost."
"I did not lose. I was… strategically defeated."
"That means you lost."
"…Rematch."
Click.
The door opened.
Both of them turned.
Serena stepped inside.
She moved slower than usual.
Careful.
Her hair fell loosely over her shoulders, and though she was standing—there was a faint stiffness in her movements.
Yuma immediately sat up straighter.
"…Serena."
She closed the door behind her.
"…Yeah."
Yuma hesitated.
"…Are you okay?"
She didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she walked over to the bed.
Then sat down.
Then slowly—
Laid down beside him.
"…I'm fine."
Her voice was softer than usual.
Yuma watched her for a moment.
Then nodded.
"…Good."
He didn't press further.
Instead, he picked up the controller again.
"…You should rest."
Stud glanced between them.
"…Wow. Emotional moment. Should I—"
Serena shoved a pillow at him.
"Be quiet." She yelled
"…Worth it."
The game resumed.
The room settled into a quiet rhythm.
For a moment—
Everything felt normal.
Then—
"…Thank you."
Yuma paused.
"…Huh?"
Serena had pulled a pillow over her face, hiding completely.
"…You stood up to that Malwisp…"
Her voice softened.
"…to protect me."
Silence.
Yuma scratched the back of his head.
"…You pushed me first, I would have gotten hit if it wasn't for you."
"…That doesn't count."
Yuma glanced at her.
Even without seeing her face—
He knew.
She was embarrassed.
Stud whispered loudly,
"…Is this romance?"
The poltergeist look at Serena, expecting her to throw the pillow in her hand
"Shut up."
Serena shifted slightly.
Still hiding.
"…You're still annoying..."
"Sometimes"
Yuma smiled faintly.
"…Yeah."
"…I am."
The game continued.
The night grew quiet.
And somewhere between exhaustion, teasing, and unspoken words—
Something changed.
Something small.
Something real.
For the first time in a long while—
Yuma felt it clearly.
He wasn't alone anymore.