𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐂 ৷৷ ᴅ. ᴅᴇᴍᴇᴛʀɪᴜꜱ ✶

𝙃𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣

FIRST PERSON POV

The classroom was emptier now than it had been before. It was a strange kind of emptiness—not just a lack of people, but a void of sound, movement, and purpose. The silence that once offered solace now pressed against me, heavy and inescapable. The faint scent of chalk and cleaning supplies filled the air, grounding me, but only slightly.

Demetrius Desmond's words replayed in my mind, their edges sharper now that I was alone.

"If you ever come up with an answer to who you truly are, you know where you can find me."

Who I truly am? The question annoyed me as much as it unsettled me. What a loaded thing to ask. If I didn't even know the answer, what made him think he could demand one from me? Still, I couldn't deny that it struck a nerve.

Who was I, really?

The weight of it settled on my chest, making it hard to breathe. I could name the roles I played—Akari the older sister, Akari the protector, Akari the girl who always had to act like she was okay. But none of that felt like the truth. Not the whole truth, at least. It felt like layers of masks, each one slipping on just in time for a new audience.

I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair. Focus. If I lingered on this existential spiral any longer, I'd lose the rest of the day.

The plastic water bottle still sat on the desk, a reminder of my earlier failure. I'd tried testing my powers, hoping for some kind of breakthrough, but all I'd achieved was a headache and a gnawing sense of inadequacy. Demetrius had caught me mid-failure, and instead of jeering or making some offhand remark, he'd asked that question—so calmly, so directly.

The thought of his quiet confidence, the way he'd brushed my hair aside, made my face flush with warmth. Ugh. No. I wasn't going down that rabbit hole.

"Get it together, Akari," I muttered under my breath.

I grabbed the bottle again, determined to make some progress. Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply, trying to focus on the task at hand. I envisioned the molecular structure of the plastic, the way the water molecules moved inside, dancing in chaos. The trick wasn't to control them, but to sense them—to feel their structure as part of my own.

The headache surged back instantly.

It started as a dull throb at the base of my skull, but quickly spread, making my vision blur. My concentration wavered, and just as I felt the faintest flicker of connection to the bottle, the pain overwhelmed me. I gasped, dropping it onto the desk as I clutched my head.

"Nope. Definitely not happening today."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The rest of the school day passed in a haze. I barely registered the lectures or the chatter of my classmates, my thoughts spinning around Demetrius's words and my failed experiment. By the time the final bell rang, I felt like a hollow shell, running on autopilot.

I grabbed my bag and headed for the door, hoping to avoid any lingering stares—or worse, another encounter with Demetrius. The last thing I needed was for him to show up again with more cryptic questions or veiled observations.

But as I stepped outside into the crisp afternoon air, I spotted him almost immediately.

He was leaning casually against a tree near the edge of the courtyard, his arms crossed and his gaze scanning the crowd. For a second, I thought he hadn't seen me. But then his eyes locked onto mine, and his expression shifted—just slightly. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, as if he'd known all along I'd be there.