Nothing feels right, yet everything feels the same.
People don't exist forever in memories. Some stay for a while, then they disappear.
Is that how life works? Arin wondered.
"I don't mean to be strong or anything," Arin whispered to himself.
"I just want something… something that can help. I can help, right?"
With that thought, he stepped forward to measure his status for ranking.
He remembered his mother.
Not her face clearly anymore—time had taken that—but her voice remained. Soft. Warm. Always gentle.
Dear… your name will be Arin.
That was the day his name was chosen.
Arin's father once asked his mother,
"Don't we need to give him a surname?"
His mother smiled and replied softly,
"Oh dear… do we really?"
She looked down at their child and continued,
"My Arin doesn't need something like that. He is our son. Does he need recognition? A title? Something to prove himself?"
She shook her head gently.
"He is Arin. If he wants something, he can give it meaning himself."
His father laughed quietly and nodded.
"Okay then."
When Arin was very young — maybe five, maybe a little older — his mother used to tell him stories.
"Kindness comes from yourself," she said.
"People behave the way they are. Be kind not because they are good or evil, but because you are kind."
She always played with him.
She was beautiful. Cheerful. Warm.
Whenever he fell and hurt himself, he would cry.
She never rushed to pull him up.
She would kneel in front of him, smile gently, and bring her hand close — not to lift him, but to pat his head.
"Ah… ah… my little sunflower," she would say.
"Cry if you want. When you stop crying, I'll hug you."
He would stop crying immediately — just to be hugged.
"Rank… S."
The voice pulled him back to reality.
"You are Rank S… Arin."
The hall went silent.
Siho's eyes widened.
The teacher froze.
Even the woman measuring the rankings stared at him in disbelief.
After some time, everyone finished their measurements.
Magic types were assigned.
Arin belonged to Fire.
Siho received Water magic.
Shua and others were also Rank S.
That was why they were placed in the same class.
"Hey, Arin," Siho said, smirking. "You're a lucky one, don't you think?"
Arin didn't answer.
His thoughts were elsewhere.
He felt heavy.
He wasn't home.
He hadn't seen Nyra at the ranking.
Only Lily was there. She is now a student of our school.
Later, Nyra wrote a letter for arin..
"Arin… I need to go somewhere. That's why I can't stay with you for a while."
Expectations are the most evil thing humans can offer themselves as a desire.
They tighten my chest, make me restless—yet at the same time, they bring a strange happiness. That contradiction itself scares me.
People who rely on others eventually become strong. And those we once relied on… maybe it is now our time to grow beyond that place.
But then a thought appears—sharp, unsettling.
If I, or we, become someone that others want to rely on…
and someday we fail to be the person they need—
what will I become then?
Can someone like that still call themselves real?
Can they still say they are worthy of being relied upon?
These thoughts never leave me.
They circle my mind endlessly, making my heart nervous, restless, unable to settle.
I need to get rid of this negativity.
I need to be ready—to do something, anything.
And so, Arin decided:
He would overcome everyone's expectations.
Even his own.
A week later…
Result Day.
The day when everyone faced their luck, their fate, and their power.
The tournament of ranks.
Rule:
All matches would be duel-based.
Whoever wins takes the higher rank.
If someone of a lower rank defeats a higher-ranked opponent, the winner rises—
and the loser falls.
No mercy.
No exceptions.
Before the matches began, there was a quiet moment—
a brief time where everyone wandered around, tension hanging thick in the air.
A girl and a young Arin stood beside Lily and Siho.
During training, Lily and Siho had become friends, and now it truly showed—they spoke easily, laughed lightly.
Then, someone approached Arin.
They came together, walking toward him—
and just like that, the calm before the storm began to break.Gazing.
The look of the girl is mysterious. It feels like she knows Arin—like she has always known him.
"Isn't it Arin…?" she whispered.
Lily and Siho both looked up at him at the same time.
"Who is she?" they asked.
Arin answered, a little confused, his eyes still fixed on the girl.
"…Is she familiar… or—"
Before he could finish his thought, she cleared it herself.
"Arin, you don't remember me?"
"I am Zahan. Lifat Zahan."
Arin's face turned pale.
"Does any bell ring now?" Lifat asked with a faint smile.
After a moment of silence, Arin replied quietly,
"…Yes."
"We dated," he continued. "For a long time. Three years in a row."
Siho's jealousy was written clearly on her face.
Lily and Siho then asked Lifat, surprised,
"What are you doing in a place like this?"
Before Lifat could answer, the boy standing beside her spoke.
"I'm here too," he said casually.
"I'm her new boyfriend. Pleasure to meet you all."
"My name is Sorin."
Arin looked at them and asked,
"…Did you both come here just to see me?"
Lifat smiled.
"It seems you are still the same as before," she said.
"Stupid and clueless, as always. Huh?"
She stepped forward slightly.
"We're here to participate in the rank tournament," Lifat said.
"We are both students of this school too."