Chapter 1: Another Ordinary Day?
The morning sun cast a golden sheen across the sprawling university campus, where laughter and chatter echoed like music through the crisp air. Students bustled about, some in small clusters, others lost in their own thoughts. Girls giggled near the library steps; groups of guys exchanged half-slept jokes and last-minute cramming. Backpacks swung, sneakers shuffled, and the promise of another lecture-filled day loomed over them all.
The university itself stood like a modern fortress of knowledge—towering glass buildings reflecting the sky, ivy trailing up old stone facades, and digital kiosks blinking with announcements no one bothered to read. It was a place both alive and indifferent, a blend of tradition and technology wrapped in youthful chaos.
Through the shifting crowd walked a figure that didn't quite belong.
His messy blond curls looked like they'd lost a fight with his pillow, and the deep-blue eyes beneath his half-lowered lashes were ringed with fatigue. Shadows darkened the skin beneath them—evidence of sleepless nights, maybe from study, maybe from something else. His posture wasn't slouched, but tired in a way that felt permanent.
A worn-out messenger bag hung at his side, and he adjusted it absently as he moved with unhurried steps. He wasn't late, exactly. But he wasn't early either.
He pushed open the door to Lecture Hall C, a stale rush of recycled air greeting him as he stepped inside. A few students glanced up. Most didn't bother. He took one of the seats near the front—an unusual choice for someone who looked like they'd rather be anywhere else.
At the podium, Professor Haynes was already in mid-sentence, his voice rising and falling in a rhythm too practiced to be passionate.
"And so, when examining cognitive interface models, we find that—"
The door opened again.
A hush swept through the front rows like wind brushing tall grass.
He stepped in.
Hikari.
Tall, sharp-featured, and annoyingly unruffled. He wore the same uniform as everyone else, yet somehow managed to look like he belonged on a movie poster.
The whispers began instantly.
"Oh, there he is."
"Late again."
"Well, I guess when you're a genius, you get to do what you want."
"Look—even the professor doesn't say anything to him."
Hikari slid into a front-row seat as if the stares weren't there. He dropped his bag beside him, exhaled slowly, then swept his piercing blue eyes across the room.
Unbothered. Detached.
Like a king surveying a kingdom he had long since grown bored of.
He yawned softly—barely covering his mouth—and began pulling out a notebook, a pen, and a small digital slate from his bag with the grace of someone going through motions he no longer cared for.
The professor's voice continued to echo throughout the lecture hall, smooth and practiced, as the lesson drifted into the dense territory of applied math.
"I'll give you five minutes," he announced, setting down his marker. "Apply this principle to the operation we just discussed."
A quiet rustle filled the room like wind through dry leaves. Pens clicked into motion. Styluses tapped on digital slates. Some students frowned in concentration, others stared at their notes as if hoping they'd rearrange themselves into answers.
Professor Kusanagi moved from the whiteboard, his hands tucked behind his back, gaze sweeping over the classroom. His silver-gray hair was meticulously combed back, not a strand out of place. It shimmered under the LED lights like brushed steel. His sharp, angular face bore no signs of age save for the wisdom in his expression—and the matching silver-gray eyes that seemed to pierce through paper and skin alike. His suit was custom-tailored, navy with subtle graphite accents, giving him the air of a corporate executive rather than a college professor.
He walked lightly, like a man used to moving among sleeping beasts.
His gaze landed on the boy in the front row—Hikari. Still, quiet, motionless.
Hikari hadn't looked up once.
His eyes were fixed on the page before him, the deep ocean blue of his irises unreadable under the shadows of fatigue. He raised his hand. The pen moved. Swift. Clean. Precise.
In a matter of seconds, the equation was resolved, boxed neatly, the ink barely dry on the paper.
Before he could even outline the final answer, a voice cut through the soft scratching of pens.
"Stop making math look so damn easy," came the low chuckle.
Hikari blinked. Looked up.
The professor was standing right in front of him, smiling.
"Sensei," Hikari said, voice hoarse with exhaustion.
Professor Kusanagi leaned closer, dropping his voice to a whisper only they could hear.
"So… what did you think of the game?"
Hikari's lips curled into a tired grin. "It's disgusting, honestly. Hah."
Kusanagi stifled a laugh—only barely. A few students turned, their gazes sharpened by curiosity and something else. Jealousy, maybe.
"'Disgusting'? Come on," the professor whispered with a dramatic sigh. "My humble little company poured its soul into developing that game. Give me something better than 'disgusting'. What's your rating?"
Hikari shrugged. "Half a star. Out of five."
Kusanagi reeled back, a hand on his chest like he'd been struck. "I haven't felt this rejected since the girl I loved turned down my marriage proposal."
Hikari gave a flat stare. "Is it really okay to hear your tragic love life first thing in the morning, Sensei?"
The professor chuckled. He reached out and tousled Hikari's curly blond hair gently, ruffling it further.
"Thank you," he said, voice lower, softer. "From the bottom of my heart. The sleeplessness in your eyes tells me everything. You finished it, didn't you?"
Hikari yawned and nodded. "If you're really grateful, let me sleep through the rest of the lecture. The day's only just begun."
Kusanagi gave a sly smile. "No can do. In fact, I'm going to make the end-of-month exam even harder. Just for you."
Hikari yawned again, unbothered. "That's fine. But… maybe be a little more considerate. I think your students are about to eat me alive with their eyes."
Right on cue, a girl in the middle of the room raised her hand.
"Sensei," she called out.
Professor Kusanagi straightened, placing his hands back in his pockets as he turned to address the class.
"I'll check your answer in a second," he said calmly, then glanced once more at Hikari. "Expect a small package tonight. Along with a handwritten note. I have a feeling you'll like it."
With that, he turned and walked off, his steps light, almost weightless, like a man who knew something the rest of the world hadn't caught onto yet.
At his desk, Hikari struggled to keep his head from dropping forward. Sleep tugged at him, heavy and relentless.
And the day had only just begun.
Chapter 1: Another Ordinary Day? (Part 2)
Ding!
The sharp chime of the university bell echoed across the sprawling campus, crisp and definitive — like the final note in a weary symphony. Within moments, doors burst open down the long corridor halls, and waves of students spilled into the walkways. Laughter, complaints, and post-class chatter rose like static in the air. Backpacks zipped, footsteps scattered, the very building seemed to exhale.
Among the flow, Hikari drifted out of his lecture hall like a leaf in a soft current. His half-lidded eyes, weary and tinged with faint shadows, barely registered the passing crowd. A yawn stretched out of him, one arm lazily covering his mouth.
"Finally," he mumbled, voice low and coarse from disuse. "This cursed day is over."
He passed beneath a massive, ornate clock mounted above the corridor like a classroom relic preserved through time. It read: 2:00 PM.
His footsteps were soft yet consistent, a quiet metronome beneath the chaotic melody of student life. Around him, clusters of girls talked animatedly.
"I swear, that's the first-year guy who scored the highest on the entrance exam."
"No way. Seriously? He looks like he hasn't slept in a week."
"I heard he doesn't even study!"
"Whaaat? Don't be ridiculous!"
"They say he won the National Math Olympiad when he was in elementary school…"
"Huh? You sure know a lot about him... Interested, are we?" one teased with a sly grin.
"Haah?! Of course not!! He looks like a zombie!"
"Oh, oh! Just look at you blushing! You can't even hide it!"
"T-that's not it, I swear!"
Hikari, oblivious to the attention, yawned so hard a tear welled up at the corner of his eye. As he exhaled and lowered his arm, his shoulder bumped into something — or someone.
Thud.
He blinked once, slowly. For a second, he saw nothing. Nothing in his line of sight. Was it sleep deprivation? A hallucination?
Then, a soft voice echoed from below.
"…Itatata…"
Looking down, Hikari found a girl. Much shorter than him. Her long black hair looked slightly tangled, as if the brush never made it to her that morning — yet it somehow shimmered like obsidian in sunlight. She wore a modest, stylish dress of deep blue trimmed with white, like the calm edge of winter. One hand rested on her head in pain, the other held a phone still playing a faint, repetitive game jingle — that same cursed tune that haunted Hikari's mind.
A light brown backpack hung from her shoulders, with a plush teddy bear dangling off the zipper like a silent companion.
Then, slowly, she opened her eyes.
Blue — like a clean summer sky. Clear. Awake. Present.
Her gaze, at first, met his shirt (a pale, cool grey — wrinkled, soft cotton), then gently climbed up to his face. And for the briefest moment, their eyes met.
His: deep, tired, drifting like a still ocean at dawn.
Hers: bright, curious, vibrant like the morning sky.
The first contact.
Sleeping blue met breathing blue.
And the world, just for a heartbeat, stood still.
A beat of silence passed.
For a fleeting moment, blue eyes met blue—his, drowsy and half-lidded; hers, startled and shimmering like morning dew. Her lips parted, trembling. Then—
"I-I'm so sorry! I mean—me! I-I didn't see you!" she stammered, her voice caught somewhere between panic and apology.
Her phone jittered in her fingers from the sheer anxiety coursing through her. It slipped, spinning in midair like a coin tossed by fate. Her eyes widened in slow motion, horrified.
Just as the phone was about to hit the floor, Hikari's foot shifted slightly.
His semi-sporty shoe—worn but clean—slid beneath it with calm precision. With the grace of someone playing hacky sack, he cushioned its fall, flicked it upward slightly, and caught it smoothly in one hand.
A soft tap echoed off the polished floor.
He looked at the phone lazily, half-interested, then flicked his gaze toward the girl—who was staring at him, stunned.
Is he... athletic? She thought, blinking.
"This…" he murmured, glancing at the screen, the familiar jingle of a certain game still playing.
Her eyes went wide again. She snatched the phone back with both hands in a tiny, kitten-like motion, mortified. Her cheeks blazed crimson, and strands of black hair fell over her face as she held the phone behind her back like it was contraband.
This is awful, she thought. I look like a total child… A college girl playing fantasy games in public? He must think I'm hopeless.
Hikari simply stared, his expression unreadable, if not slightly intrigued. She bowed slightly and began stepping past him, her voice shaking.
"R-really, I'm so sorry! Thank you so much! I have to go now, goodbye!"
Her words tumbled out in a flustered stream, awkward and clumsy. A person clearly untrained in casual interaction.
Hikari turned his head, watching her go. Her steps were quick, almost like she was trying to vanish.
"That game… It's Royal Fantasy Elixir, isn't it?" he said suddenly.
She froze.
Her shoulders stiffened, her breath hitched. Slowly, only her head turned back—eyes wide and nervous, her phone clutched tight against her chest.
He was looking at her now. Not just seeing—really looking. His lazy gaze seemed to focus, just for a moment, as if something about her shifted the atmosphere.
She turned fully toward him, hesitant. Students passed behind her, paying them little mind.
"You know it?" she asked softly.
"I know of it," Hikari replied. "It was all over the place when it dropped a few months ago. Hard not to know."
Her eyes lit up slightly. "Wait… So, you're a player too?"
He gave a lazy shrug. "Me? Nah. It's one of those grind-heavy RPGs. Time and effort aren't exactly in my toolbox."
Then he added, casually, "Though I'm surprised to see it on your phone. The game doesn't even run on PlayStation or Xbox."
She glanced at her screen, smiling gently. "You're right. On mobile, you can manage your account, upgrade weapons and skills, watch live feeds from in-game events… it's pretty expansive. You can talk to your online party, study the monster database, and—"
She stopped. Her face twisted in sudden realization.
"Oh no, I'm rambling again! I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to—!"
Hikari studied her quietly, thoughts swirling behind his drowsy eyes.
I can already read her, just from this one exchange. She's alone. Hasn't dated, maybe never. Probably top of her class. Lives in her books and games. Honestly… she's just like me.
I'd like to know more. But I'm not the type to invade someone's space—especially not hers. She feels like a flower that's never been touched.
He smiled, the first genuine smile he had shown all morning.
Waving his hand as he turned to leave, he said, "I hope the next time we meet… you won't feel the need to apologize."
She watched him go.
There was something oddly warm in the way he walked away—calm, respectful, and distant. Her heart thudded softly.
He didn't ask my name. He didn't try to impress me. He didn't try anything…
Strange… He's really strange.
She looked down at her phone and smiled faintly.
"…Yeah. I hope we meet again too."
Chapter 01: Another Ordinary Day? (Part Final)
The soft click of a wooden lock echoed in the hallway as the front door swung open.
Hikari stepped inside, greeted by the faint creak of old wood beneath his feet. The house was small—simple in design, yet warm. Wooden floors, paper-panel windows that bathed the interior in a diffused, golden glow, and the faint scent of tea leaves that always lingered in the air like a memory. It was the kind of place where time seemed to slow down.
He bent to unlace his shoes, but just as he slipped them off, a familiar melody pierced the air—an in-game tune so grating it made something deep within him twitch with discomfort. His brow furrowed. That game again...
He walked softly toward the living area, following the sound. And there she was—his little sister, seated cross-legged on the floor, hunched forward with a game controller in her hands. Her long blond hair cascaded down her back in a gentle wave, strands catching the light like threads of gold. Her blue eyes, usually calm, were narrowed in irritation as she grumbled at the screen, "What is wrong with this main character?! He's so weak it's painful!"
Without a word, Hikari let his bag drop beside her with a gentle thump.
She paused the game, eyeing the tossed backpack with a scowl. "What a barbaric way to treat your books. At least take them to your room."
"What are you doing, Sera?" he asked, his voice low and sleepy.
"I'm trying to finish the game you brought yesterday," she said with a huff. "But what even is this garbage? It's miserable."
Hikari chuckled softly, covering his mouth with his fingers.
She glared at him. "What now?"
"Nothing," he said, a faint smile curling on his lips. "Just happy to know my little sister shares my taste."
She frowned harder. "You say that like it's a compliment. Gross."
Her expression shifted slightly as she studied his face. "Onii-chan… have you looked in a mirror today? You seriously look like a zombie."
Hikari rubbed his eyes and turned away. "Tell Mom not to wake me before seven," he mumbled, heading toward the stairs. "I really hate it when my sleep schedule gets messed up."
He paused halfway up. "By the way, what are you doing home? Didn't school end at four today?"
There was a short silence behind him.
"Ah… right, that," Sera said, voice suddenly a pitch higher. "Uh… my stomach hurt! Yeah, super bad cramps. I figured playing this dumb game might help distract me from the pain."
She reached for the controller and mumbled under her breath, "Though honestly, this game's making my stomach worse…"
Hikari raised a brow. "Don't skip school for no reason. And quit this game already," he added as he started walking again. "It's just a prototype from my little dev studio. You don't need to suffer through it."
Behind him, Sera muttered just loud enough for herself, "Baka... this game's trash is still better than those fake faces at school…"
He didn't hear her. His door slid shut behind him.
His room was quiet. Neat. A single bookshelf, a desk with nothing on it but a closed laptop, and a bed that looked almost untouched. Everything was placed with a quiet order—no clutter, no chaos. Just silence.
He collapsed onto the bed, the soft mattress sinking under his weight. His eyes fluttered closed. Tired. He was so tired.
That was the first time in my life… I found blue eyes beautiful.
I've always hated this color in my own eyes. It felt cold, distant.
So why can't I stop thinking about hers?
Royal Fantasy Elixir… What's so fun about that genre, anyway?
His thoughts dissolved into silence, sinking beneath the weight of sleep.
He was out cold.
.
.
.
Hikari was drifting.
Somewhere beneath an endless, velvet-blue ocean, his body sank deeper and deeper. His limbs were weightless, his breath stolen, leaving behind only a trail of shimmering bubbles that floated to the surface—soft, fragile orbs catching the dim light like broken stars.
Onii-chan...
The voice echoed above him. Distant, gentle—like someone calling from beyond a dream. The sound rippled through the water, bending reality around it.
His golden hair floated around his head like a halo, the strands flowing with each subtle current. He barely noticed. His eyes remained closed, his thoughts quiet.
This water… it's warm.
The warmth wrapped around him like a blanket. Safe. Silent. Weightless.
Onii-chan...
The voice again, a little clearer. More insistent.
It echoed in his skull like a memory trying to surface. Over and over. Louder.
Onii-chan... Onii-chan...
His thoughts resisted. Something was pulling him from this peaceful place. Tugging gently at first, then harder.
No, he thought. Leave me here… just let me sink. Quietly.
But then—
ONII-CHAN!
Like lightning through calm waters, the voice tore through the silence.
Hikari's eyes snapped open—bright, oceanic blue, still dazed. The world shifted around him in an instant.
He was no longer underwater.
He was in his room.
His sister stood at the foot of his bed, arms crossed, golden hair slightly tousled, an eyebrow arched in clear irritation.
"Oh, come on. You're finally awake?"
"Sera…?" Hikari mumbled, dragging a hand to his head.
He sat up slowly, the bedsheet crumpling around his legs as he shifted toward the edge of the bed. His voice came out low and groggy.
"What time is it—?"
His sentence faltered.
His eyes landed on something unusual at the foot of his bed.
A cardboard box. Not too big. Not too small. Just… there.
"What's that?" he asked, voice still thick with sleep.
"It's a package," Sera replied. "Came for you earlier."
Hikari ran his fingers through his messy blond hair, standing with a sigh as he dragged his feet toward the box.
"Must be the one Professor Kusanagi mentioned this morning…"
Before he could reach it, Sera's phone buzzed. She glanced at it and beamed.
"It's 8:00 PM, Tuesday night!" she chirped. "The new episode of my favorite romance anime just dropped! Hurry up and open it already—I need to go watch it!"
Hikari crouched beside the box and began peeling off the tape. The adhesive tore away with that satisfying rip as he muttered,
"You're still into those cheesy romance anime?"
"They're the peak of Japanese art," she replied, completely serious.
He snorted. "Peak, huh?"
A smirk tugged at his lips.
Inside the box, nestled neatly in foam, was a sleek, futuristic device—shaped like a pair of sci-fi inspired eye masks. The design was elegant and minimalistic, like something ripped straight out of a cyberpunk dream. A digital screen shimmered faintly across the surface.
Sera's eyes widened. "Is that… a Wystoria device?!"
Hikari raised an eyebrow. "Yep. The real deal. I don't like where this is going… the professor must be planning something."
He dug deeper. Alongside the visor were four flexible, high-tech accessories—two gloves and two sock-like wearables, made of soft, synthetic material laced with tiny circuits.
Sera leaned in, whispering like she was seeing a forbidden treasure. "You're kidding… a Wystoria console? That thing's like, mythical! Does the professor like you that much?"
Hikari rolled his eyes. "He's just looking out for his own interests, trust me."
"But you know Mom and Dad are totally against Wystoria," she warned, the excitement fading slightly. "You remember what happened…"
Hikari paused, his eyes falling back on the visor in his hands. He pressed the power button.
A soft hum followed. Blue lines of light raced along the device's edges. Then—a pleasant chime.
"Hello. I am your personal interface. Please select your language, assign a name, and choose a preferred voice tone."
He stared at it silently, as if holding a piece of some parallel future.
"Sera," he said slowly, "what do you think my chances are… of convincing our parents?"
She answered without hesitation.
"Zero percent."
He sighed. "Thought so."
He set the device aside on the bed and pulled out the final item from the box: a letter.
Yo, Hikari!
You probably have a million questions right now, and I've got answers. I know you're not a fan of RPGs—trust me, I know. But I need your brain on this one. For just one week, dive into the world of Royal Fantasy Elixir. My company's developing a next-gen title, and I need someone sharp enough to break this game down fast. No one else in the country—hell, in the world—can do what you do. You're our secret weapon. Help me out, not as a student, but as a future hire. The cost of the gear? Forget it. Just give me that Hikari-grade analysis. You're our last, best shot. Sincerely, your favorite professor—Kusanagi.
Hikari read it once. Then crumpled the paper and tossed it to the corner of the room.
At the bottom of the box, he found a glossy game access card. Royal Fantasy Elixir. The game logo shimmered with magical overlays.
He flipped it over.
Login details. Username. Password.
"He's really going all in this time," he muttered.
"What are you gonna do?" Sera asked.
He sighed. "Reject it, obviously. This is a violation of my right to exist in peace and laziness."
Then—
His phone rang.
The screen lit up with a familiar number.
Professor Kusanagi.
Hikari's finger hovered over the red icon.
Sera gave him a look. "You don't have to be rude, you know."
With a reluctant breath, he answered.
"…Hello."
Kusanagi's cheerful voice chimed through the speaker. "You were totally about to hang up, weren't you?"
"…Yes."
"Don't be so honest!" the professor laughed. "Anyway, guess who I'm with?"
"I don't care about your personal life," Hikari replied flatly.
"Are you sure?" Kusanagi teased.
Something about his tone made Hikari's eyes narrow.
He turned to Sera. "It's 8 PM. Mom and Dad should be home."
"They… said they had a meeting with someone," she replied, hesitant.
Her eyes widened.
She got it too.
Kusanagi laughed. "Ah, the great Hikari finally deduces the obvious. Sadly, my boy, I've already won this round."
"What exactly do you gain from talking to them?" Hikari asked coldly.
"Why don't you ask them yourself?"
A woman's voice came through the line.
"Hikari! I'm so proud of you, sweetheart! I can't believe how far you've come since joining the university."
Then, his father's voice.
"Your mother and I have already signed the contract."
Hikari rubbed his forehead. "Wait—wait. You signed a work contract on my behalf?! I thought you hated Wystoria!"
"We were convinced," his mother said. "The professor made a great case. Besides, it's been four years since… that incident. We believe in you, Hikari."
The call ended.
Hikari tossed the phone aside. "He probably promised them some insane paycheck. That sneaky bastard. He even weaponized my family."
He picked up the visor again.
Sera smiled. "Hikari-niichan… I don't know why, but I feel like this is going to change your life."
He groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Go watch your anime, or whatever. Looks like I've got no choice."
He pulled on the gloves. Then the sleek socks. Finally, the visor. He ran a hand through his blond hair, adjusting it just right.
Sera stepped out, closing the door behind her.
In the hallway, she padded barefoot down the wooden stairs, a quiet smile on her lips.
"Hikari hates RPGs for one reason," she whispered. "Back in 2029, he dominated the peak of them all—a game so legendary, it stood above the rest. He poured his soul into it, and won so thoroughly that global tournaments turned dull. They banned him from the very world he helped define."
Step by step, her voice flowed softly down the staircase.
"He's hated them ever since. But now… maybe he'll find a reason to play again."
She smiled as her voice drifted into the silence.
"Go on, big brother. You can smile now—I'm not there to see it."
Back in his room, Hikari's lips curled faintly.
The visor lit up.
"Welcome to Royal Fantasy Elixir."