Two Essence

Max watched in disbelief as Harry disappeared through the doorway, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn't understand it. Why was this happening? Why were they laughing at him?

Even when he got the F-rank Traveler, they didn't react like this. There were murmurs, sure, but not outright mockery. Why was Harry's essence so different? 

Anger bubbled up inside him as he gritted his teeth. His fists clenched tightly at his sides, and he shot a glare at the laughing students. Without thinking, he broke into a run, chasing after Harry.

"Look at that! Now the F-rank Traveler is chasing after the F-rank Fool!" someone snickered, their voice cutting through the chaos. "What a pair!"

But before anyone else could join in, a sudden chill seemed to sweep through the hall, causing the laughter to abruptly die down. The students shivered involuntarily, glancing around with confused expressions. The temperature hadn't changed, but there was an undeniable coldness in the air, an unseen pressure that weighed down on everyone.

Slowly, all eyes turned toward Leila. She was still seated in her spot, her expression calm and indifferent. Without a word, she stood up, her movements graceful and deliberate. Her eyes remained forward, not glancing at anyone as she made her way towards the exit. 

As she passed by, the students who had been laughing moments ago fell silent, feeling a strange mix of fear and respect. Her presence was imposing, her aura demanding silence without her needing to say a word. The path cleared for her as she walked, and no one dared to make a sound.

Max, meanwhile, had already reached the exit, his mind focused on finding Harry. He pushed the door open and rushed out into the corridor, the laughter and chaos of the hall fading behind him. 

His heart pounded in his chest, and his breath came in quick gasps. He didn't care about what the others thought. All that mattered was finding his only friend and making sure he was okay.

Max sprinted down the corridor, his footsteps echoing in the silence. He knew exactly where Harry would go—their room, the only place where Harry could find some semblance of safety amidst the ridicule. 

As he rounded a corner, someone called his name. "Max!"

He skidded to a halt, looking back to see a girl with striking blue eyes standing in the hallway. She was the student council president girl, Leila was it, her expression unreadable but her eyes locked onto him with a strange intensity. Max blinked in surprise, taken aback by her sudden appearance. He hadn't expected anyone to follow him, let alone her.

Before Max could say anything, Leila spoke, her voice low and measured. "Why are you with him?"

Max's confusion deepened. The way she asked the question, it was almost as if she genuinely didn't understand, as if Harry being who he was made it obvious that Max shouldn't be around him.

"What do you mean?" Max replied, his brows furrowing. He didn't know Leila since he had lost his memories, so her questioning felt intrusive, almost accusatory.

Leila's gaze didn't waver. She repeated, her tone more insistent, "Why are you with that boy, Harry?"

Max paused, her question hanging heavily in the air. He could feel the weight of her stare, pressing him to answer. It was a reasonable question in a way—one that even he had silently asked but never spoken aloud.

But then again why shouldn't he be with Harry? 

And... what made Harry so different that even this girl had to ask?

Looking into her eyes, Max felt a surge of defiance and urgency recalling Harry's situation. He straightened, his voice steady and clear as he answered, "Because he's my only friend."

Leila's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. She hadn't expected that answer; perhaps she was anticipating something else, a reason that fit more neatly into her world. But Max didn't wait for her to respond. He turned away, his focus back on his mission.

As he continued down the hall toward their room, Leila remained standing where he left her, a thoughtful expression on her face. Max didn't care about the silent judgment he had just left behind. His priority was Harry, the friend who had stuck by him when no one else would, and he wouldn't let anything come between them.

He finally reached their room, the door slightly ajar.

Max's eyes widened in shock and confusion as he entered the room. The sight that greeted him was the last thing he had expected. There, in the center of the room, was Harry, his face alight with a wide grin, and his shoulders shaking with laughter.

"Harry...?" Max managed to utter, his voice barely more than a whisper. He blinked, wondering if his eyes were deceiving him. Harry was laughing—laughing and grinning as if he hadn't just run out of the hall moments ago, as if he hadn't been the subject of mockery.

Hearing the door creak, Harry looked over, his eyes still sparkling with mirth. "Oh, you came back already," he said casually, as though Max had just returned from a stroll and not a desperate chase through the corridors.

Max opened his mouth to say something, to express the worry that had driven him to run after Harry, but no words came out. He stood there, frozen, his mind trying to reconcile the image of his cheerful friend with the reality of what had just happened. He wanted to say, "I was worried about you," but looking at Harry's radiant expression, he couldn't bring himself to speak.

But he had to know. Even if it didn't make sense, he needed to ask. "Are you okay? They were laughing at you, and..." Max's voice trailed off, his concern evident.

Harry's laughter faded, replaced by a look of surprise. "They were?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.

Max stared at him, dumbfounded. "Didn't you run away because of that?"

A realization seemed to dawn on Harry, and his expression shifted to one of awkward understanding. "Oh, that..." He scratched the back of his head, his smile turning sheepish. "I ran because I was about to shout out loud in joy. If I didn't leave, I might've just started yelling."

Max's mouth fell open in disbelief. He looked at Harry as if he were speaking in another language. "Didn't you awaken an F-rank essence? They said it's the weakest... then why would you shout in joy?"

Harry's grin widened, his eyes twinkling with a playful light. He leaned in closer to Max, making a dramatic pause before answering, as if savoring the suspense. "Because," he said, his voice barely containing his excitement, "I have two essences!"