The once casual atmosphere had taken a sharp turn for the worse.
Mize shifted slightly in his seat, adjusting the fabric of his dress as a strange discomfort settled in.
His fingers fidgeted against the soft fabric, eyes darting around, anywhere but toward Liam.
The venue was still lively, the murmur of conversation and occasional laughter echoing through the air.
But somehow, once it reached them, the noise felt distant.
The space around them had been drained of sound, leaving behind only a quiet ringing in Mize's ears.
He swallowed, fingers curling into his lap.
'Alas, I should've thought this through before coming here…'
This was a VIP venue after all. It was obvious that the dean's son would be here, even if he was already an awakener.
A wave of mild self-blame bubbled up inside him.
Not that it helped now.
From the corner of his eye, he sneaked a glance at Liam.
The man still sat there, calm and composed, his fingers lazily spinning the stem of his wine glass.
Then, he took a slow sip.
A single trickle of red slid down from the corner of his mouth, stark against his pale skin.
Mize froze.
That was when Liam's gaze met his.
His golden eyes locked onto him as if he had been waiting for Mize to look his way.
"What's wrong?" Liam asked.
His smile was still there, but something was off.
The tone was so unnatural that Mize felt this wasn't him. More like a different person...
Mize's stomach clenched.
He didn't know what else to do, so he did what he did best.
"I—I'm sorry."
His voice came out softer than usual, almost instinctively shrinking in on itself.
Slowly, he scooted closer, hands carefully tugging at the sleeve of Liam's coat.
His head tilted downward, his gaze dropping to the floor, one hand lightly clasping over his chest, as if unsure of how to appease the man beside him.
The movement was small but deliberate.
The act of someone both fearful and confused, trying to make amends.
Liam's fingers stilled against his wine glass.
His chest rose with a slow inhale, and for a brief second, just the faintest flicker, his restless expression softened.
[Good one, Host! The villain's rage is decreasing rapidly! Keep pushing!]
The system voice sounded inside.
Mize almost choked on the air.
'Weren't you the one who told me to stay still?!'
[Change of plan. Keep up the pace. Be cute. Be tearful. Your beauty was meant to make men feel pity toward you.]
'O-okay…'
Mize took a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily as he gathered the courage.
Then, he called out.
"L-Liam…"
A quiet, almost hesitant plea.
And just like that, he had the man's full attention.
Liam turned toward him, his golden eyes narrowing slightly.
But before he could say anything, he froze.
Mize tilted his face up, allowing the light to catch just right on his expression.
Wide ruby-red eyes, teary and glassy, rimmed faintly with pink. A subtle flush of red dusting across his cheeks.
His delicate brows stretched slightly, quivering just enough to look distressed.
And when he tried to speak, his voice hitched, a small hiccup catching in his throat.
Liam's breath stilled.
His fingers twitched.
For the first time, his usual smooth, composure cracked.
Even if it was just for a second.
Mize saw it all.
The way Liam's throat bobbed as he swallowed.
The way his grip on the wine glass loosened, as if he had forgotten it was there.
The way something in his eyes flickered something that almost looked like guilt.
"I…" Liam's voice faltered, slipping into his tone.
His hand reached out, fingertips brushing against Mize's cheek, and then, with more confidence, he cupped his face gently.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, voice lower than usual.
"Don't cry."
His thumb moved lightly, wiping away a tear before it could even fall.
Then, without hesitation, he pulled Mize closer, letting his warmth seep into the space between them.
[Rage completely vanquished. Congratulations, Host!]
'Great.'
Mize internally cheered, but on the outside, he kept up the act.
But oh, he was thoroughly enjoying this.
'Take that, bastard!'
'Mimi beam!!!'
This, this was revenge. He savoured this very moment thoroughly, like a perfectly cooked steak, it must be enjoyed with the best way of tasting it, Cheese.
A non-violent, completely harmless, but highly effective way of punishing Liam for all the times he'd teased him.
Mize had seen Liam smile through everything.
Smirk. Laugh. Tease.
But now?
Mize had just witnessed a rare moment of vulnerability, and he was soaking in every second of it.
'Hehehe… this guy keeps smiling all the time. Now take it. Pitiful attack!'
'Cute attack!'
'Tearful beam!!!'
'Mimi beam!!!'
And for the next few minutes, Liam did nothing but pamper him.
His hand rubbed gentle circles on Mize's back.
His fingers combed lightly through his hair.
And at one point, he even pulled Mize into his lap, arms wrapping around him securely.
In front of so many people.
Mize?
Mize thoroughly enjoyed it.
'I am just a big baby'
After several more rounds of comforting, patting, and shameless pampering, Mize finally calmed down, or at least, pretended to.
Not that Liam noticed.
Because, as it turned out, Mize was extremely skilled at fake crying.
An absolute master of deception.
Not even the all-knowing, omnipotent Yama Lord had managed to see through it.
'Fufu… not only am I a master of gender concealing, but I am also a master of fake crying! Truly a being of immense talent!'
A smug grin threatened to slip onto his face, which would have been a problem, considering that his cheek was still pressed against Liam's chest.
[Very talented, Host. Why not pursue another talent? How about mastering the non-existent sword method?]
Mize's expression twitched.
'…'
There was a fleeting urge to punch something, but unfortunately.
He had nothing to hit.
'If only you could materialize.'
[I can, but I choose not to. I do not support physical abuse, Host.]
'Shameless.'
Mize rolled his eyes internally.
But he let it go.
For now.
Not long after, the venue became noticeably busier.
Compared to the dozens of people from before, there were now hundreds, all dressed in refined, elegant outfits, their conversations filling the air.
Everywhere Mize looked, there were small circles of people gathered around certain individuals, second-generation elites, no doubt, using this high-end event to form connections and alliances.
He shifted slightly, bringing his head up, letting it rest against Liam's shoulder as he scanned the crowd.
And that's when he noticed it.
People were staring.
More specifically, he was being stared at.
Most of the gazes came from a handful of well-dressed young men and women, each carrying themselves with a distinct air of arrogance.
They looked around his age, some maybe a little younger but their expressions were oddly familiar.
Mize frowned slightly.
And then.
A terrible realization hit him.
'No way…'
His eye twitched.
'I think they think I'm Liam's sister.'
The gazes were too familiar.
It wasn't the usual admiration or envy that came from those who thought he was a love interest, it was the casual curiosity of people seeing the "younger sibling of an important figure."
Mize had been mistaken for someone's daughter far too many times in his life.
'Damn it. My height really is a curse.'
Still, he made a mental note of their faces.
They might cross paths again, especially once he started looking into big institutions for future training.
Or even he entered the warp in the future.
It was a plan he had worked out with Liam's approval.
After all, these institutions weren't just academies, they were massive military forces, operating independently from the human empire's sphere of influence.
And there were an uncountable number of them, no one knew just how many human forces were there within and outside.
Each one controlled a vast territory in the Warp, making them one of the few forces capable of standing on equal ground with the Empire's direct army.
As for which one to join…
He had no clue yet.
'Better to let Liam choose.'
Since, well…
'We'll be sharing a territory as partners soon anyway.'
He let that thought settle for a moment.
Then, Liam's hand landed lightly on his shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts.
"Mimi," Liam's voice was low and smooth, his breath warm as it brushed against Mize's ear.
"The ceremony is about to start"
Liam gestured, the crowd of the young people slowly moving in towards the hall up ahead, and a man in a butler uniform stood at the gate, welcoming them.
Mize blinked.
"You need to go in alone," Liam continued, his tone careful. "Can you do that?"
There was a brief pause.
Mize's face didn't change.
But internally.
'What do you mean, can I do that? Of course, I can! Do you think I'm a kid?!'
He was secretly offended.
But on the outside, he lowered his gaze, letting his lips press together slightly as if reluctant.
His ruby-red eyes shimmered just faintly, not enough to cry, but enough to look pitifully conflicted.
Then, in a small voice, he nodded.
"Can."
Liam's fingers tightened slightly against his shoulder.
"Don't worry," he murmured.
"My guards are in your shadow. No harm will come your way"
Mize's lashes fluttered slightly at that reassurance, his expression softening just enough to make it look like he was touched.
"Umm…" he hummed lightly, giving the faintest nod.
And with that, the ceremony was about to begin.