Without a word, Sam broke into a full sprint.
Nyra blinked. "Oh no."
She bolted after him, nearly tripping on her dress.
The boy limped into the corner, clutching his sore leg and muttering like a war veteran who'd seen too much.
"People here are crazy... I got kicked for no reason… Is this what cities are like?"
His name wasn't important.
Not yet.
Just a commoner.
Dirt on his sleeves.
Confusion in his eyes.
A nobody from some nowhere village who had just entered the capital for the first time.
He'd come with nothing but hope in his pocket and his mother's voice in his head:
"You have a greater cause, son. You're meant for something big."
...Yeah, right.
If that "greater cause" involved getting assaulted by a lunatic noble before lunch, he'd like to have a word with fate.
He wiped his nose, still grumbling, when his eyes landed on her.
A girl standing completely alone in a quiet corner — white hair, red eyes, and the tragic aura of someone who might actually be more miserable than him.
She looked ignored.
Forgotten.
Just like him.
He hesitated.
Then took a deep breath.
"Maybe… maybe I can make my first friend. Someone who gets it."
He began walking toward her, unaware that he was about to commit a mortal sin — stepping into the our sam radar.
Because across the hall, Samule Nightshade had already locked on.
And he was sprinting like the final boss in a horror game.
Behind him, Nyra nearly tripped trying to keep up.
"Master, no, you can't just—"
Too late.
Just as the boy reached Lilith and opened his mouth to say hello—
WHAM.
A foot connected cleanly with his rear.
He let out a yelp of confusion as gravity betrayed him, and he stumbled forward—
—directly toward Lilith.
The girl's eyes widened as a random boy flung himself at her like a drunken pigeon.
Her instincts screamed.
And so did she.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—!"
A scream so sharp it could pierce the heavens.
Heads turned.
She did the only rational thing anyone would do in her situation:
She dodged like a ninja !!!
The poor boy crashed face-first into a decorative stone.
A wet "thud."
Silence.
And then—
"Molester!" Sam shouted dramatically, pointing a trembling finger at the fallen commoner.
"He was going after this innocent girl!"
Lilith blinked. "Wait, what?"
The hall turned deathly quiet.
Dozens of eyes snapped toward them.
Teachers. Guards. Students.
Even the damn camera artifact zoomed in.
Nyra arrived just in time, face blank like a seasoned maid who'd seen far too much of her master's nonsense.
She looked at the boy twitching on the floor, then at Lilith, and gave a professional nod.
"Yes. I saw it too. He was grabbing at the young lady."
That sealed it.
Dozens of eyes turned to Lilith, the supposed victim of this tragic, socially catastrophic incident.
Lilith blinked, her brain still catching up.
She hadn't even finished screaming yet.
"Uhm… yeah. He was falling over me," she mumbled, still confused but not technically lying.
That was enough.
The professors shook their heads.
The female professor who'd been managing the ceremony looked exhausted.
"One more offense," she said to the commoner boy, "and you'll be banned from this year's Awakening."
The boy—nose bleeding, leg sore, dignity in the gutter—looked up with a face that screamed betrayal.
"I-I'm not molesting anyone! This bastard kicked me!"
No one listened.
Murmurs spread. Some snorted. A few nobles laughed.
The cameras had already moved on, but the damage was done.
No one believed him.
Eventually, he just stopped trying.
Silent. Bitter. Humiliated.
Meanwhile, Samule turned back to Lilith, his face the very picture of "gentlemanly concern".
"Are you hurt, miss?"
Lilith blinked again. "…No?"
Before she could back away, Sam gently took her hand.
She looked down, confused.
Then Sam leaned in, voice soft.
"Let's go eat puddings."
"…Puddings?"
Her eyes widened.
That was her favorite.
The heavens whispered.
The strings of fate trembled.
Lilith hesitated… then slowly nodded.
She followed him like a duckling imprinting on chaos.
Nyra sighed and trailed after them.
The crowd lost interest and returned to the Awakening ceremony.
And back in the corner…
…the boy with the busted nose, sore leg, and shattered pride sat in stunned silence.
He clutched the stone for support and watched Samule walk off with his first potential friend.
In that moment—he swore revenge.
He didn't know how.
He didn't know when.
But one day… that bastard in black would pay.
Somewhere far away, as Sam enjoyed a spoonful of pudding beside Lilith, he shivered.
A cold chill ran down his spine.
"…Did someone just declare a lifelong vendetta against me?" he muttered.
Lilith slurped her pudding. "Hm?"
"Nothing."