The next morning, I didn't even bother showing up for class.Straight to the lab. No hesitation.
"…Alright," I muttered, tying my white hair into a loose ponytail. "Yesterday was just… warm-up. Today, I'll do it properly."
On my desk sat a tiny chip. Barely the size of a coin. A design I'd finished late last night when I couldn't sleep. It wasn't perfect, but the calculations said it could stabilize magnetic weight. If this worked, then maybe—just maybe—the halo would finally balance properly.
I held it between my fingers, staring at it. "…You're the real deal, huh?"
I wanted to just slap it into my own head and be done with it. But my rational brain screamed: safety first.
So instead, I walked over to the lab corner where my trusty science mannequin waited. The poor thing had seen everything from chemical accidents to test explosions. It deserved a raise.
"Don't look at me like that," I muttered, even though its plastic face was blank. "You're the test subject."
I carefully attached the chip to the mannequin's head. Then, with a deep breath, I placed yesterday's bulky halo prototype above it.
For a second, it floated.
Then—
CRUNCH!
The mannequin's head collapsed like a cheap soda can. The halo fell with a loud clang.
"…." I froze. "…I would've been decapitated."
A cold sweat ran down my back.
I slowly, very slowly, picked up the broken mannequin head and placed it on the desk like a funeral offering. "…Thank you for your service. Rest in pieces."
Endless Trials
The next few hours turned into pure chaos.
One prototype after another. Some too heavy. Some too unstable. One actually flew sideways and shattered a beaker on the shelf.
At one point, sparks shot out, and my hair stood up like a dandelion.
"…Great. Now I'm static cling cosplay," I muttered, brushing it down.
Finally, after what felt like forever, I had something promising. A thin design. Minimum power. Lightweight. I slipped the new material through the coil, adjusted the chip, and tightened the support.
When I placed it on the mannequin's head this time…
Ffffshh—
A faint glow shimmered across the metal. White. Almost holy.
"…Huh?" I blinked. "Why… glowing?"
I scribbled notes, then pulled out one of my dusty old reference books. It didn't take long.
"…Oh. That explains it."
Centuries-old research, barely known, theorized that certain alloys under magnetic resonance would emit photonic energy. Light, basically.
I closed the book slowly. "…So I reinvented a flashlight. On accident."
Still, I couldn't help but stare. The glow looked… angelic.
Small Progress
The new halo floated, but only a few millimeters. Barely hovering.
"…Not enough," I muttered, tapping my pen. "If I wear it now, it'll drop off the second I sneeze. Stability's bad. Strength is weak."
I sighed, leaning back. "I need more magnet power. And I need to balance the field."
That was when I heard something.
A muffled voice.
"…She's doing it again."
I froze. My head turned slowly toward the lab's side window.
And there they were.
Himari. Arisa. Sei. Mei. Ren.
All five of them stacked on top of each other like some failed ninja squad, peeking in through the glass.
I deadpanned. "…Seriously?"
They didn't notice I'd caught them.
Arisa whispered, "If she really finishes this, it'll change everything. Imagine—our school taking credit for the world's first functional magnetic halo. NASA would come running. Maybe even WCC."
Sei crossed his arms. "Or she'll kill herself testing it. Did you see that mannequin's head earlier? Poor guy never stood a chance."
Mei laughed softly. "Still… that's Saeki-san for you. She's the only one crazy enough to pull it off."
Ren pushed his glasses up. "If she succeeds, the publicity would be enormous. Fame. Funding. Sponsorships from international research organizations. But also pressure. If the world stares at her, she won't stop. She'll break herself."
Himari clutched the window frame nervously. "…That's why we can't let this spread to the other students. Or the teachers. Not yet."
"Agreed," Arisa nodded. "We keep this a secret."
"…Guys," I finally said flatly, loud enough for them to hear. "I can see you."
All five of them froze.
A comical pause.
Then—
"R-run!!" Sei hissed.
The five of them stumbled over each other, trying to run away. Himari fell first, Arisa tripped over her, Ren bumped into Mei, and all four collapsed into Sei. The whole squad tumbled into a pile right outside my lab door.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "…Idiots."
Back to Work
Still, their words stuck with me.
Fame. Pressure. Attention from the world.
NASA. WCC. Sponsors.
It sounded ridiculous, but also… possible. Too possible.
I stared at the glowing prototype on the desk. My chest tightened.
If I perfected this, I could make the whole world look at me. My dream of space exploration… funding would pour in. Recognition, too.
But at what cost?
I exhaled slowly. "…I'll just focus on making it stable for now."
Not for NASA. Not for the church. Not for glory.
Just for myself.
For that strange, comfortable hum.
I bent over the desk again, tightening wires.
Meanwhile — Outside
The five idiots—sorry, my so-called friends—sat on the bench outside the lab, catching their breath.
"…We're keeping this a secret, right?" Himari said again, still flushed.
"Of course," Arisa replied. "If the whole school finds out, Reina will have no peace."
Sei scratched the back of his neck. "Not to mention, if she ever goes public with this, she'll be crushed under expectations. Even she can't handle all that alone."
"…Still," Mei smiled faintly, "it's kind of exciting, isn't it? We might be witnessing history."
Ren nodded seriously. "It is history. But sometimes, history is better protected until the right time."
They all looked at the lab windows, where faint white light shimmered against the curtains.
Inside, Reina Saeki was working herself into legend.