A Noisy Table

Chapter 7 — A Noisy Table

The smell hit me before I even saw the food.

Warm bread. Roasted meat. Something sweet that reminded me faintly of honey.

The academy’s cafeteria was already full when the three of us arrived. Long tables stretched across the wide hall, students gathered in noisy clusters, trays clinking, voices overlapping in a constant hum that felt strangely alive.

Izuo’s eyes lit up the moment we stepped inside.

“…Wow.”

That was all he said before speeding up.

“Izuo, wait,” Latris called, already laughing.

Too late.

By the time Latris and I reached the counter, Izuo was already stacking food on his tray like his life depended on it. Meat, bread, vegetables, something fried, something grilled—then more meat on top of that.

I stared at the mountain forming in front of him.

“…Are you feeding an army?” I asked.

He glanced down at his tray, then back at me, completely serious.

“This is normal.”

Latris leaned closer to look. “No, it’s not.”

Izuo shrugged. “Training takes energy.”

“You’re not training right now,” she said.

“Future training,” he replied immediately.

I sighed and picked my own food. Compared to his tray, mine looked almost empty—but even then, it felt heavier than anything I had eaten in a long time.

When we finally sat down, Izuo didn’t waste a single second.

He dug in like someone afraid the food might escape.

Latris watched him for a moment, then shook her head. “I swear, if you keep eating like that, they’re going to start charging you extra.”

He spoke with his mouth full. “Impossible. This is an academy. They planned for this.”

I took a bite.

And froze.

…This was good.

Not “school cafeteria” good. Not “edible” good.

This was really good.

I slowly chewed, surprised.

“Okay, this is way better than I expected.”

Latris nodded. “Right? If someone told me this was food served to royalty, I’d believe it.”

Izuo finally paused long enough to grin. “Back in my village, this would be festival food.”

I looked around the cafeteria again.

Students eating freely. No guards watching portions. No sense of restriction.

So this was how the academy treated its students.

Like an investment.

We kept eating, and the noise around us blended into something almost comforting. Plates clinking.

Laughter. Complaints about classes. Plans for later.

Latris and Izuo started talking about the morning lessons.

“The history class wasn’t that bad, at least the professor didn’t try to scare us,” Latris said.

Izuo nodded. “Unlike some people.”

She smirked. “You mean the physical training instructor?”

He shuddered dramatically. “I felt like my spine straightened itself just because he walked past.”

They laughed.

I listened.

I didn’t say much.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to. I just… didn’t feel like I knew how to fit my words into the conversation yet.

They talked easily. Naturally. Like this was already normal for them.

I focused on eating and let their voices wash over me.

At some point, Izuo started telling a story about someone in his class almost dropping a weight on their foot. Latris reacted with exaggerated horror, asking if the person survived.

I smiled faintly at that.

They spoke so freely.

Izuo never hesitated to say what he thought. Latris laughed, complained, reacted without holding anything back. It looked natural. Effortless.

They are really good friends.

I wondered if I really deserved to be sitting here with them.

If someone like me belonged at this table.

Could I ever be like that too?

Not strong like Izuo. Not bright like Latris.

Just… open.

Free to speak without weighing every word. Free to laugh without thinking about the past. Free to exist without constantly looking over my shoulder.

The thought lingered longer than I expected.

Then I pushed it aside.

Not now.

I’ll get better first.

Stronger. More stable.

Then maybe… later I can talk about everything to them.

Izuo suddenly leaned back, patting his stomach. “I think I need a second tray.”

Latris stared at him. “You’re joking.”

He stood up. “I am not.”

“Izuo.”

“This is strategic eating.”

I couldn’t help it.

I laughed.

Just a little.

He noticed and pointed at me. “See? Rikuo understands.”

“I didn’t say that,” I replied.

Still smiling.

As he walked off, Latris looked at me.

“You okay?” she asked casually.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

She didn’t press.

I appreciated that more than she probably knew.

For a moment, we just sat there, the noise of the cafeteria filling the space between us. I watched students from different classes, different years. Some confident. Some nervous. Some loud. Some quiet.

All of us here for different reasons.

All of us eating the same food.

When Izuo returned—with another full tray, somehow—we finished our meal together.

By the time we stood up, I felt… lighter.

Not physically.

Something else.

As we left the cafeteria, I glanced back one last time.

The noise. The warmth. The normalcy.

Maybe chapters like this mattered more than I thought.

The day ended without anything unusual.

Classes came and went one after another. Theory. Notes. Explanations. Names and concepts that still felt distant to me, like things I’d understand later—but not yet.

I paid attention like always.

As night came, I found myself walking alone.

The academy looked different after dark.

The paths were lit by soft lamps, their light stretching across the stone like thin lines. Shadows filled the spaces between buildings, deep and still. Most students had already returned to their dorms, leaving behind only distant voices and the occasional echo of footsteps.

I walked slowly, letting my body cool down.

After training with Izuo and Elaira today, my muscles hurt like hell.

But I am getting better, little by little, step by step.

Classes weren’t overwhelming.

The magic lesson from earlier replayed in my head. Mana. The way it felt when I touched it for the first time. That strange sensation, like grasping something that had always been there, waiting.

I hope I could use mana to strengthen my body soon…

No. Not yet.

Let’s not get hasty.

I stopped myself before my thoughts ran too far ahead.

One step at a time.

That was the pattern of my days now.

Wake up. Learn. Train. Repeat.

It was simple.

And somehow, that simplicity scared me more than danger ever did.

Back then, life was about surviving. About reacting. About doing whatever I had to do to get through the next day.

Here… I had time.

Time to think. Time to plan. Time to imagine a future.

I wasn’t sure what to do with that yet.

I glanced up at the sky.

The stars were faint, partially hidden by clouds, but they were there. Watching. Silent.

I wondered how many days like this I’d have before things changed again.

Exams. Expectations. The academy wasn’t going to stay gentle forever. I knew that.

Still… for now, I was here.

Walking these paths.

Learning things I never had the chance to learn before.

Training with people who chose to stand beside me.

I tightened my grip on the strap of my bag.

Whatever came next, I needed to be ready.

Not for glory.

Not for recognition.

Just to make sure I wouldn’t be left behind again.

With that thought lingering in my chest, I continued walking toward the dorms, letting the quiet of the academy night swallow my footsteps.

I was almost at the dormitory when I noticed it.

At first, I thought it was just another shadow.

The lamps didn’t reach every corner of the academy, and at night, the darkness liked to play tricks on the eyes. Still, something about that movement felt… deliberate.

I slowed my steps.

Near one of the older buildings, where the stone walls narrowed into a small passage between structures, someone walked with measured steps, keeping close to the walls.

A figure wrapped in a long coat.

For a moment, the light caught his profile.

My eyes widened slightly.

Professor Aurelion.

The theology instructor.

He didn’t look like he usually did during lectures. No calm posture. No composed smile. His gaze was sharp, focused, as if he were making sure no one was watching.

Then, without hesitation, he turned and slipped into one of the academy’s side alleys.

I stopped.

Just for a second.

It wasn’t strange for professors to walk around at night. The academy was massive, and their duties weren’t limited to daylight hours.

Still… something felt off.

I stared at the alley for a few moments longer than I should have.

Maybe he had academy business. Meetings. Rituals. Theology always involved strange traditions, after all.

I exhaled quietly.

I was overthinking it.

There was no reason to assume anything else.

Turning away, I resumed my walk toward the dormitory.

Tomorrow would be another long day.