Haze The Town Red

Katsu jolted upright, heart thudding as reality snapped back into focus.

The Leviathan stirred, blinking blearily in the half-light. "Shit."

He groaned, rubbing his eyes. "I'm late for class…"

She was already melting into the shadows, her laughter echoing in his head.

"Try not to embarrass us, my king."

He didn't have time to argue. With a flick of his hand, water spiraled over his skin, cleansing away sleep and sweat, leaving him shimmering and sharp. His veins pulsed blue as the magic worked, every muscle waking at once.

Katsu threw on his uniform in a blur and bolted for the door, boots reverberating down the hallway.

No time for breakfast, barely time for breath, just the adrenaline of a new day chasing at his heels.

Sydney sat at her desk, absentmindedly twisting a loose thread on her sleeve, fingers fidgeting in the morning light.

Her gaze drifted to the classroom door for the third time in as many minutes.

Beside her, Elvyn leaned in, brow furrowed, voice pitched just above a whisper.

"Is he skipping again today, Sydney?"

She shook her head, a faint line of worry creasing her brow. "No, not these classes. He always skips the last two, not this one."

"Well… he's still not here." Amira chimed in, propping her chin on her hand, dark eyes scanning the half-empty seats. "Maybe he got himself in trouble again."

Sydney rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched, caught between annoyance and something softer.

"That would require him caring enough to get caught."

Before either friend could reply, the classroom door slid open with a bang.

Katsu rushed in, hair still damp, uniform half-straightened, bag slung casually over one shoulder.

He slid into his seat with barely a pause, breathless but grinning.

Like he'd just outrun the dawn itself.

Elvyn raised an eyebrow, moving back to his seat.

"Cutting it a bit close, aren't we?"

Katsu shot him a crooked smile.

"Fashionably late, I prefer."

Amira tried to hide her smirk behind her sleeve, but Sydney just shook her head, relief softening the last edge of worry from her eyes.

Katsu glanced over, and for a heartbeat, he and Sydney shared a quiet look.

Something unspoken settled between them.

"Hey," she murmured, voice low, barely more than a breath. Meant for him alone.

He matched her tone, letting his shoulders drop a fraction. "Yo."

For a second, the noise of the room faded. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, trying not to smile too much.

"I thought you wouldn't make it. I was about five seconds from letting Amira drag me into another debate about Soryuun politics."

Her lips twitched, the joke light but real.

Katsu's mouth curved, his own tension finally loosening. "Would've taken a disaster to keep me away," he said, voice soft but honest.

She nodded, eyes bright. "I know."

Their hands moved in quiet sync as they reached for their materials, the hush between them finally easy. Master Altan entered then, boots ringing against the stone; drawing all eyes forward and setting the day in motion.

"Everyone knows their seat. Find it, and settle down if you will."

Chairs scraped, bags thumped. The usual shuffle of bodies filling the room.

Each student moving without question, save for Katsu, who lingered half a breath behind.

"Yes, Master Altan," the class reverberated in practiced unison in every voice but Katsu's.

Altan's gaze lingered, pinning him. "Katsu?"

He straightened, pulse in his ears.

"...Yes, Master Altan. My apologies."

"It's fine." The words settled like a stone in a river. "Everyone present? Good. Same partners as last week."

He waited for silence, surveying the room.

"Your project today—hands free. No incantations, no wands, no shortcuts. I won't introduce new material. Next week, we test your command of flame."

His eyes landed on Sydney. "Keahi?"

She sat up, startled. "Yes, Master?"

"You are not exempt from this test. While I expect the rest of you to produce a flame, I expect you to produce a haze."

The words fell heavy. A hush swept the room. Nervous, respectful, a little awed.

Sydney's jaw tensed. "A haze, sir? But I've never—"

"To control a haze," Altan said, "is proof of mastery. Fire is easy. A haze is delicate. If you can't call it, how can you bear the name Keahi?"

He let the silence stretch.

"Two weeks. Prepare yourselves."

His gaze shifted. "Katsu."

"Yes, sir?" Katsu's reply was sharper, but tension crept into his voice.

"Water is your strength, yes?"

Katsu nodded, cautious. "Yes, sir."

"Can you produce mist?"

A pause. "Yes, sir."

"Hot or cold?"

A longer pause, but he managed, "Yes, sir."

There was a flicker of humor across Altan's mouth. A ripple of laughter broke through the room. Relief, nerves, camaraderie.

Sydney almost joined in, but her hands fidgeted on her desk, eyes drifting out of focus.

Katsu watched her, concern flickering beneath the surface. Altan caught it all.

Then let the class settle.

"You'll have your test, Nori. Pop quiz, let's call it. For now—show me what you've learned."

He turned away, chalk tapping a quiet rhythm against the board.

The lesson flowed on, but the earlier challenge settled like a veil across the room.

An unspoken dare humming beneath every movement.

Katsu kept his hands down, fingers curling around water as he shaped it, coaxing a spiral of mist that thickened and shimmered between his palms.

The magic felt different today.

Restless, like it wanted to slip away from him. He tensed, and the mist crystallized into a slender shard of ice. He set it carefully upright on the desk, pride flickering across his face.

He glanced over to Sydney, hoping to share a small victory. Her head was bowed, the hood of her cat-eared hooded cloak drooping low, casting her face in shadow.

"Hey," he said, voice lowered. He nudged her elbow, gentle but insistent. "Syd?"

No response. Her fingers gripped her notebook tight, knuckles pale.

Katsu's heart pinched. Around them, the room buzzed. Quills scratching, spells fizzing, Altan's measured footsteps. None of it reached Sydney.

The usual spark in her posture had guttered out, replaced by something small, fragile.

He leaned in, lowering his voice until only she could hear. "Are you okay?"

Still nothing. For a moment, he wondered if she'd even heard him. Then, quietly, she shook her head, just once. Not enough to draw attention.

Barely enough for him to notice.

Katsu hesitated, uncertain. He let his magic dissipate, the ice melting to a cold puddle on the wood. He tried again, softer this time.

"Talk to me, Syd. You're not alone."

She finally looked up, eyes rimmed red, jaw tight with something she didn't want to show.

"I'm fine," she whispered, the words too quick, too practiced. Her gaze slipped away, and she hunched deeper into her hoodie.

Katsu watched her for a moment longer, the noise of the classroom fading around them.

He wanted to reach out, but didn't.

Not here, not with so many eyes.

So he just sat with her in the silence, letting her know he wasn't going anywhere.

Master Altan called for everyone's attention, the lesson resuming its steady pace.

But for Katsu, the world had narrowed to the space between their desks and the gravity of what Sydney wouldn't say.

He watched her, really watched.

The set of her shoulders, the tremble in her fingers, the way she seemed to shrink beneath the too-bright classroom lights.

Sydney drifted far away, eyes fixed on a page she wasn't reading.

It was as if the hum of the Academy faded, replaced by a storm only she could hear.

Inside, she was drowning.

Thoughts pressed in.

Too sharp, too heavy. Not good enough. Not what they want. Never enough, not for her parents, not for House Keahi, not even for herself.

The whispers of the class, of her own mind, swirled like stormclouds.

Each expectation weighed her down, sinking her deeper into a quiet panic.

She could feel the threat of tears, the urge to fold in on herself. She wanted to disappear, to become smoke or steam. Anything but this.

She—

A gentle touch anchored her. Katsu's hand on her shoulder.

Steady, warm, unmistakably present. He leaned in close, his breath brushing the shell of her ear.

"I'm going to kiss you if you don't talk to me," he murmured, the words just for her.

The spell broke. Sydney jolted upright, a flush blooming across her cheeks, eyes wide with disbelief and something else.

Relief, maybe, or gratitude for being seen.

"K-Katsunori!" she blurted, too loud for the moment.

A few heads turned, but Katsu only grinned, unbothered by the attention. He held her gaze, steady and a little smug.

Her mind raced.

She should have been offended, should have wanted to shrink away, but instead a laugh bubbled up, breaking through the fog.

She pressed a fist to her mouth, trying to hide her smile, but it was hopeless.

"You idiot…" she whispered, the words light but colored with something softer.

The mood between them shifted, just a little. Her shoulders uncoiled; the world felt possible again.

Katsu tapped his notebook, voice quieter.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to. But you're not alone. Not here. Not ever."

Sydney glanced at him, her smile lopsided but real. "You always have to be dramatic about it, don't you?"

He shrugged, still wearing that crooked grin.

"It works, doesn't it?"

Their small moment hung between them, gentle and unhurried, untouched by the rush of the lesson or the judgment of the room. For a while, that was enough.

Master Altan, glancing up from the board, caught the change. Sydney upright, Katsu's calm.

He gave the smallest nod, then let the lesson move on, the challenge of haze and mist now just another part of the morning.

Sydney returned to her notes

But the weight in her chest felt lighter, and every time she caught Katsu's eye, she had to fight the smile tugging at her lips.

And for Katsu, the world felt a little brighter, too.