Ren burst into Zen's room long before dawn. The sky outside was still pitch black, the kind of dark that made everything feel unreal. Finding his twin sprawled across the bed, completely out cold, Ren grabbed his shoulder and shook him hard.
"Hey, wake up! You don't get to sleep forever, you know," Ren demanded.
Zen groaned and shifted, squinting through half-open, blurry eyes. "Wha… huh?" he muttered, trying—and failing—to make sense of the shape hovering over him.
Then his vision cleared.
"HOLY SHIT!" Zen shrieked, scrambling backward across the bed and nearly falling off the other side.
Ren stared at him, unimpressed. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Zen sucked in a sharp breath, clutching his chest. "Oh. It's you, Ren. Damn it… in the dark, you look like a freaking monster."
Ren's scowl deepened. "Say that again and I'll snap your neck."
Zen waved a hand weakly. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Why are you in my room this early?" he asked, his voice still thick with sleep.
Ren hopped off the bed and crossed his arms. "Have you forgotten? The SHIELD Exam is today. Get up."
Zen reached for his phone, squinting at the screen. "It's four in the morning!" He dropped it back onto the mattress. "Are you insane?"
Ren grinned, eyes sharp and restless. "The earlier the better. We can kill time by sparring."
Zen studied him for a moment, then frowned. "You haven't slept, have you?"
Ren's grin stretched wider, almost feral. His eyes gleamed as he burst out laughing. "Not even for a second! Ha—ha ha haaa!"
Zen groaned and flopped back onto his pillow. "You're a maniac. I'm going back to sleep."
Ren clicked his tongue, anger flaring instantly. "Fine! Sleep! See if I care!" He turned away, fists clenched. "I'll train on my own! You and your natural talent don't get hard work! I'll score higher, get better results, become a top-ten SHIELD agent—"
He spun back around, voice shaking with raw conviction.
"—and I'll prove that sheer willpower beats talent every single time!"
Ren stood by the door, his silhouette heavy in the dim morning light. He remained silent, his gaze fixed on his brother, as if he expected Zen to suddenly vault out of bed with a burst of competitive energy and join him for one last training session. On the other side of the mattress, Zen didn't move. He kept his back turned, eyes squeezed shut in a desperate play-act of deep sleep. Ren let out a long, weary sigh—the kind that carried the weight of knowing exactly what his brother was doing—and finally retreated, pulling the door shut with a soft click. As soon as the latch caught, Zen's eyes fluttered open. The silence of the room felt heavier than the noise had been; he stared at the wall, sleep now a distant, impossible memory.
Three hours later
Zen shuffled into the cramped dining room like a reanimated corpse. His eyes were a roadmap of burst capillaries, bloodshot and stinging from a night spent staring at the ceiling. He fumbled with a glass, filling it with lukewarm coffee and drinking it down with a grimace.
Hana stepped into the room, stifling a yawn, her hair a messy halo of sleep. She stopped when she saw him, her expression shifting from groggy to worried. "What happened? Did the exam keep my baby awake all night?" she asked, reaching out to press a warm, reassuring hand against Zen's cheek.
Zen let out a ragged sigh, leaning into her touch for a brief second. "No, it wasn't the exam. It was Ren. He was out there all night swinging at those damn tires and doing whatever else he does when he's restless. The rhythmic thudding kept me up."
Hana chuckled softly, moving past him to fix her own cup. "Don't be too hard on him. You know how he is when he's nervous. Besides, this is the day he's been waiting for his entire life." Her smile was bright for a moment, but as the reality of the date sank in, the light left her eyes. She lowered her cup, her hand trembling slightly. "Wait... the exam is today? You guys are going to be late!"
Zen's eyes snapped wide, the caffeine finally hitting his system. "Quick, what's the time?"
He scrambled to pull his phone from his pajama pocket. "It's seven AM! The exam starts at nine, and the academy is miles away. We haven't even packed, I'm not dressed—what was I thinking? I'm messing up the most important day of my life before it even starts."
Hana grabbed his shoulders, steadying him. "Stop freaking out. Take a breath. Where is Ren?"
Right on cue, Ren rolled into the room, a heavy luggage bag trailing behind him. He was already fully dressed, his gear cinched tight and his posture straight. "Morning, Mom," he said coolly, then cut his eyes toward his brother. "And as for you, Zen—get your butt in the shower. You're the one who's going to make us late. And Mom? Please tell me breakfast is ready."
Zen and Hana shared a look of stunned silence before simultaneously bursting into a fit of relieved laughter. Ren stood there, looking back and forth between them with a scowl of pure confusion. "What? What's so funny?"
"Since when did you start being the responsible one?" Zen choked out through his laughter.
Ren's jaw tightened, a faint flush creeping up his neck. "I've always been responsible, you asshole. Now go get ready! And Mom, seriously... the food?"
"I know, I know! Breakfast is coming," Hana said, still giggling as she hurried toward the stove.
Minutes later, the brothers stood on the porch, bags in hand and adrenaline finally replacing their exhaustion. "Do we have everything?" Zen asked, checking his pockets.
Ren began a mental checklist. "Toothbrush, change of clothes, emergency rations, deodorant... and these bad boys." He reached into a side holster and pulled out two daggers carved from dense, dark wood.
Zen stared at them, unimpressed. "What are those supposed to be?"
Ren ran a thumb along the wooden edge, a proud smile tugging at his lips. "I made them myself. Since the only steel we can afford is a kitchen knife, I figured I'd craft something balanced. You want one?"
Zen stepped back dramatically, hoisting his luggage higher. "I'll pass. You know I'm a gun and blaster fighter. Besides, who knows what tree you plucked those sticks from. Let's move."
Ren's pride vanished into a scowl. "Don't tell me what to do. 'Gun my ass.' Everyone knows gun users are just cowards who hide in the shadows because they're too scared to look an enemy in the eye."
"Not all of us are like that," Zen snapped back, pivoting on his heel. "I'm certainly not."
"Oh please," Ren hissed, following close behind. "'I'm into blasters'—really? Come on."
Zen spun around, his patience snapping. "Can you just shut up? Gun, blade, it doesn't matter what the weapon is. I'm still better than you, and you know it, Ren." He shoved his heavy luggage into Ren's arms.
"Don't use my name like that, ass breath" Ren growled, staring Zen down with narrowed eyes. "We'll see who's better when we're standing on the exam floor."
Hana stepped out of the house then, her eyes glassy as she watched them trade insults. "So, you're really leaving? There's nothing I can say to make you stay home where it's safe?"
She knew the answer, but she opened her arms anyway. Zen stepped forward and embraced her tightly. "Don't worry, Mom. We'll be back, and we'll be stronger. No portal is going to take me down. You know you can't keep me here."
Ren stood to the side, uncharacteristically quiet. Zen glanced back at him with a smirk. "And besides, you know Ren will be crawling back home the second he fails the exam."
Hana let out a watery laugh, and Ren instantly dropped the bags, raising a fist. "That's it! Fight me right now, dickhead!"
Zen just waved him off, grabbing his suitcase and starting down the path. "Save it for the exam. We need to move."
Hana caught Zen's sleeve one last time. "Wait... take this." She pressed 200₰ (200 zeths= $400) into his palm.
Zen stared at the bills in shock. "What? No, Mom, this is too much, I can't—"
"Shhh," she insisted, closing his fingers over the money. "Just go. Call me if anything goes wrong. Now move, before I change my mind!" She shooed him away, then turned her attention to Ren.
"Ren, wait."
He turned, and before he could say a word, she wrapped him in a hug so tight it knocked the breath out of him. She didn't tell him to listen to his brother; she knew that would only spark another argument. Instead, she whispered into his shoulder, "Just come home safe. Okay?"
Ren hesitated for a heartbeat, his tough exterior crumbling just enough for him to squeeze her back. "I will," he promised.
Without looking back again, he turned and ran to catch up with Zen, the two of them disappearing into the morning mist toward their future.
The two of them turned away from the house, the adrenaline of the morning argument carrying them down the gravel path. Ren took the lead, his back straight and his grip firm on the heavy luggage. He looked like the picture of readiness, but as the familiar sight of their front gate blurred, a cold sweat broke out across his neck.
The world suddenly tilted. The vibrant green of the trees bled into the gray of the road, and the rhythmic sound of their footsteps began to echo like a heartbeat in his ears.
"Hey, keep up," Ren muttered, but his own voice sounded like it was coming from underwater.
"Ren?" Zen's voice was suspicious, then quickly turned to alarm. "Whoa, hey—watch it!"
Ren didn't even have the strength to snap back. The hours of brutal, midnight training—the hundreds of swings against the tires without a single break for water or rest—finally demanded payment. His knees buckled first. The heavy luggage slid from his grip, hitting the dirt with a dull thud.
"Ren! What are you—"
Zen didn't finish the sentence before Ren's world went completely black. He collapsed forward, his forehead nearly hitting the gravel before Zen dropped his own bag and lunged, catching his brother by the shoulders.
Ren lay limp in the dirt, his face pale and his breathing shallow. The "responsible" brother, the one who had spent all night preparing to be a hero, had finally pushed himself past the breaking point. They hadn't even reached the end of the street, and their exam day was already falling apart.