“I want to be one of the cool kids,” Misaka pouts as the third-years file out from the dojo after Principal Sazama’s private martial arts lessons, clogging the courtyard in an array of navy blue and dark hair.

  “I can promise you, that lesson is probably like torture dressed up as learning.” I say, linking my arm through hers. There’s a little more than a tinge of dread tugging in my chest.

  “If you want cool, you’re looking in the wrong direction.” Aki pushes past Sakura and throws an arm around my shoulder.

  “She shouldn’t be looking in your direction either, you sexual predator.” I retort, juggling the multitude of cursed technique books I borrowed from Shiori so I don’t drop them.

  “I’m honoured you think so highly of me, Honey,” he replies, placing a hand over his heart. I wrinkle my nose at him.

  Honey? That’s new. I hate it.

  “Need me to dispose of him?” Sakura adds, twisting his arm into an unnatural angle to remove it from me. Aki grumbles as he’s forced to the ground.

  “Alright, alright.” He jumps up onto the balls of his feet and dusts himself off. “No touching the Special Grade.” He slides his hands into his uniform jacket’s pockets and tilts his chin towards the books in my grasp.

  “Studying?”

  “Trying to see if there’s any other information about Sora’s technique or even touch-based techniques and how to cancel them out.”

  I don’t mention that I was up until two in the morning, straining my eyes whilst Hiro helped me search—neither of us finding anything useful. I go to the dead zone tomorrow and I have no idea how to handle Sora if he shows up. I pray to any god that’ll listen that he stays in hiding until I can at least counter him.

  Aki nods, resting his hand on his chin. “Welp! Sounds like way too much reading for me.” He grins, unrepentant.

  “That’s why nobody asked for your help,” Sakura adds, shoving his face away. “We don’t come to you for anything remotely serious.”

  Misaka stiffens beside me and I glance at her, following her gaze. Shinji stands ahead of us in the corner of the courtyard, the breeze playing through his ash-brown hair. My heart stutters as I take in the sight of Satoshi beside him, sunglasses resting atop his messy hair, arms crossed over his broad chest, back leaning against the grey brick. The faint hint of chocolate and leather hangs in the air.

  “You should speak to him,” I whisper to Misaka. “He wouldn’t have slept with you again if he wasn’t at least slightly interested.”

  Her cheeks turn a deep shade of pink, eyes darting between me and Shinji before she unlinks her arm from mine and marches forward, chin lifted, fire burning in the green of her irises.

  Sakura slings an arm over my shoulders, Aki slides to my left and props his elbow against me.

  “This should be fucking good,” he smirks down at me.

  Misaka stops dead in front of Shinji; she’s not that much shorter than him. A few inches at most. She grips his uniform and—

  “Oh shit.” My eyes almost bulge out my head as Misaka pulls Shinji into a deep kiss. Satoshi wisely backs away, but not before locking eyes with me and scowling. I raise my middle finger to him and the arrogant prick gives me a shit eating grin before sauntering off to the halls connecting to the courtyard.

  Aki brings two fingers to his mouth and wolf whistles. I snatch my gaze back to Misaka and Shinji. The charming second-year—to his credit—isn’t shocked by the boldness of my friend. He dips his head, hand sliding to caress the back of her neck, and kisses her back fiercely.

  Sakura tilts her head towards me, smiling. “My cousin finally made a good choice.” I lift a brow at her. When Shinji referred to her as cousin she bit his head off. She’s radiating pride and for once the worry of what’s to come dulls.

  “I’m happy for her,” I murmur back, lips twitching at the first-years gawking at the two eating each other’s faces.

  I let out a breathy laugh as they break apart and wave the two over to us. They join us wearing the same smug satisfaction. Our entourage turns and heads towards the classrooms on the upper floors. Sakura keeps an arm over my shoulders, leading the group.

  We weave through the bottleneck of students filing into Fushiguro-Sensei’s classroom.

  Someone knocks my shoulder as they rush past, almost dislodging the books held tight to my chest.

  “Sorry, Sazama!” They call over their shoulder, grabbing their friend and pulling them out of the way.

  “Uh.” My eyes widen. Did someone just apologise to me? The person that most of the school want dead because of my last name?

  “No need to apologise,” I mutter as they find their seats a few rows from the front. “Did I hallucinate that?”

  “No. That actually happened,” Hiro replies, materialising behind me, I jump out of my skin and almost lose my footing. Aki steadies me by the elbow.

  “Fuck, Hiro. Announce yourself before you approach. I could’ve killed you.” I exclaim, tilting my head to glance at him.

  “I fail to see how you could’ve killed me holding a mini library in your arms.” He bites his lip and gestures with his chin to the empty row in the middle of the class. “Come on, or we’ll be left to stand once the third-years arrive.”

  My blood turns to ice in my veins. Satoshi is going to be in this lesson too. We never have all the year groups in one room.

  Sakura guides me to the middle row. I barely pay attention to the puzzled looks the rest of the class give me. I plant myself on the bench, wood groaning under our combined weight. Aki and Hiro are in a silent standoff, glaring at each other. Aki throws his hands up and slides in next to Sakura. Hiro straddles the bench on my left. I glance sideways to my right, taking in how Shinji has his arm casually around Misaka’s waist, holding her tight to his side.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  The room buzzes with energy as the third-years bundle in. I can’t help but notice that the third-years numbers have dropped dramatically in the last week. We lost fifteen third-years over the span of five days thanks to a cursed womb birthing a Special Grade with enough cursed energy to rival Satoshi. The cursed womb was reported as a Grade One, so a group of Grade Twos and a support unit Grade Three were sent to exorcise it, and evacuate the civilians that were trying to be heroes. Not only did the Third-years die, so did the morons that thought they could investigate a cursed spirit sighting—thinking it was a fucking ghost—Satoshi arrived on day five, the Higher-ups ordered him to dispose of the threat after the loss of the group. If they’d sent him earlier he could’ve saved everyone.

  My palms are slick with sweat as I’m hit with a wave of cursed energy so strong I don’t need to turn around to know who just entered the room.

  “Toshi just got here.” Hiro says from my left, dropping a notebook onto the desk and looking back to the door.

  “No shit,” I grind my teeth, forcing my eyes to stay glued to the blackboard at the front of the room. Not that I’m annoyed at Hiro, I’m still pissed that Satoshi assigned me a bodyguard.

  Hiro snorts and gives me a half smile, dimple flashing. “And now he looks like he just swallowed glass. Does it excite you pissing off the strongest sorcerer in the world?”

  “Try it and find out for yourself.” I reply as I reach for a pen from my pocket and rip out a page from Hiro’s notebook. I can’t turn around. I won’t. Being attracted to Satoshi is fine. It has to be. Giving in to the temptation is a crime against sorcery.

  “Hard pass.”

  I fight the losing battle to glance back but fail miserably. Sure enough Satoshi is standing at the back of the class next to the girl with black hair who took his things during our spar, arms folded and whispering in her ear. He gives Hiro a nod, and he returns it.

  I roll my eyes and turn back around, ignoring the heat that burns into my chest at the closeness of the two third-years.

  “You’d think I’m on the verge of death every time I leave my dorm, with how he makes you guard me like a dog.” I grumble, shaking my head.

  “In his defence, the one time you were alone you were almost killed.” Sakura sets her things out on the desk, lips twitching upwards.

  “Yeah, one time.” I lean back against the hard back of the bench, huffing. “And I was drunk. I could’ve handled myself any other time.” I bare my teeth at her.

  “Down girl, I’m just stating facts,” she glances sidelong at me. “And we can’t forget the constant death stares you get from nearly everyone in the school.” She shrugs, amusement lacing her tone.

  “She has a point,” Misaka chimes in leaning forward from Aki’s side, next to Sakura.

  “It was at night, when I was alone, unless Hiro starts sharing my room I—”

  “I could be pers—” he butts in, grinning shamelessly as he twirls his pen between his fingers.

  I flick my wrist and the air pressure around us nosedives, stealing the oxygen from his lungs.

  “Finish that sentence, I dare you.” But the effect is ruined as my lips slant upwards and I suppress a laugh, releasing the technique.

  “You are such a player.”

  “Thank you,” he grins turning back to his notebook and doodling in the margins.

  “That isn’t a good thing.”

  “Don’t mind her, she’s not had dick in months. Makes a girl extra cranky.” Misaka writes the lesson title on her empty page and I follow suit, pen gliding against the paper. I really should invest in a laptop.

  “That has no relevance here.” I hiss. Izanagi, could she have blurted that any louder?

  “Yet, you’re not denying it,” she smiles sweetly.

  “My apologies for not making the cut,” Hiro teases. “But I’m sure Toshi would be more than happy for me to review some potential contenders, especially if it means you stop glaring daggers at him in front of the whole school.”

  “Oooo, and how would these contenders be reviewed, hm? What’s the grading points?” Sakura asks, brow cocked above her shit-eating grin. “I’m invested in this process.” She leans forward resting her elbows on the desk, holding her head with her fists.

  I manage to still my features for one second before I burst out laughing at his sudden terrified expression. “I appreciate the offer though, I’ll make sure to bring any potential fucks for your approval in the future.”

  “He could watch,” Shinji pipes up, biting his bottom lip. “Just to be sure she’s you know...” he drops his voice to loud whisper. “Pleased with the length.” He mimes a crudely large space with his hands.

  “Are we talking about cock?” Aki asks from Sakura’s side. “I’m an expert in this subject.”

  Everyone roars with laughter.

  “Fucking gods,” Hiro mutters under his breath. “I’m just saying now that you’re technically protected at all times—” we cackle louder, the sound vibrating off the high wooden ceiling.

  “Hold on.” The laughter dies in my throat. “What do you mean by protected at all times?” My lips fall into a hard line. “If you tell me that he has you stay awake at all hours to watch me or something equally nauseating, I’m going to explode.”

  “What? Don’t be a dumbass. He memorised your cursed energy signature.” He stares at me like this is public knowledge, then his face drops and he runs a shaky hand through his spiky copper hair. “He didn’t tell you.”

  “Say again?”

  “He memorised your cursed energy signature,” he says quietly. “So he can track you if you get attacked again.”

  Fuck. How am I supposed to feel about that? It’s possessive as hell, and a massive violation of my privacy but also … undeniably hot. I should be disgusted, angry, exposed even. Yet the heat bolting to my core snatches any logical thoughts. I battle every muscle to not whip my gaze to Satoshi.

  Fushiguro-Sensei clears his throat loudly from the front of the classroom. “I’d like to start my class at sometime today.”

  Oh gods and fucking curses. The whole class is gawking at us, our sensei stands with a curved brow and folded arms.

  We bow our heads in unison. “Sorry, Sensei.”

  My cheeks flush.

  Fushiguro nods and walks to the front of his desk, leaning against the metal and crossing his ankles. Tan suit crinkling under the weight of his foot.

  “The third-years are joining us today for a joint exercise.” He grabs his phone and scrolls quickly with his thumb. “And you all need to hear the latest announcement.”

  I swallow, mouth as dry as cotton. Information important enough that the whole school needs to know.

  “Due to recent losses in the cursed womb incident, sorcerers of all ranks will be deployed into the dead zones and lower grades will be grouped together. Higher grades will be assigned per ten Grade Two or Grade Threes.”

  Heads whip in every direction, excited and nervous chatter spreads. What the fuck is wrong with most of these students? How can they be looking forward to being cannon fodder to protect the higher graded sorcerers?

  “Satoshi Gojo will manage the Grade One and higher students,” he continues.

  Oh for fucks sake. Not only will I be forced to be around him, I’ll be forced to do as he says. I chance glancing over my shoulder. Satoshi’s electric-blue gaze burns into me. I snap my head forward.

  Hiro rests a hand on my arm and I give him a small smile. I’m glad he cares enough to check in. He might be protecting me but I’ve grown to view him as a friend—

  “Ren Sazama will manage the Grade Two and lower students.” Fushiguro finishes.

  What?

  My heart hammers against my ribs. I’m hearing things. I’ve finally gone insane. A shaky laugh bursts from my throat. The whole room turns to look at me like I’ve just announced I’m turning into a cursed spirit. My eyes slide shut and I take a deep breath. When I open my eyes Satoshi is there. Crouched in front of my desk, arms resting on the edge, head sideways on his arm.

  “Renegade,” he murmurs. He’s so close I could run a finger along his cheek, and count every sapphire fleck in his eyes. My ears start ringing, his mouth moves but I don’t hear whatever he says. He glances at Hiro, nods and then reaches for my face. My gaze darts around wildly, as he brings two fingers to my forehead. What the fuck is he—darkness swallows me whole.