Chapter 2: Buffs Aren't Free
So, I tried not to use Crimson Fang today. I swear I did. But it's like telling yourself not to eat chips when the bag is sitting right there on the couch.
Math class was the worst. I could feel the sword buzzing under my desk, like it wanted me to pick it up. Nobody else could hear it, but to me it sounded like a mosquito trapped inside my skull. Finally I just grabbed it—don't ask me how I hid a giant red sword in school, it just… shrinks, I guess?—and the second my hand touched the hilt, bam. No more boredom. My brain lit up like a computer on cheat codes. I suddenly understood fractions. Fractions!
And then my nose started bleeding all over my notebook.
"Bro, what is wrong with you?" Kenji whispered.
"Puberty," I said, like always. He didn't buy it, but whatever.
The buffs are insane though. When I hold Crimson Fang, everything slows down. Like when the teacher dropped her chalk, I saw it fall in slow motion. I could've caught it before it even touched the floor, but I didn't, because then people would ask questions, and the last thing I need is being "that weird sword kid."
But here's the thing nobody tells you about buffs: they feel good. Too good. Like addictive good. Without the sword, I feel like a normal, useless kid who forgets his homework and gets pimples. With the sword, I'm unstoppable. Smart, fast, strong. Like the world is mine.
And then the debuffs punch me in the face. Headaches. Nosebleeds. Yesterday my left eye twitched for an entire hour and I thought I was dying.
Kenji says I should throw it in the river, but I don't think he understands. The sword isn't just some weapon. It's mine. And I think it needs me as much as I need it.
The scary part? I don't know why.