Dakari and Fuyuki walked back to their room in comfortable silence after their meal at the Grotto. The chatter of students and the lively energy of the dining hall still buzzed in Dakari's mind, but it was a distant hum compared to the questions swirling within her. As they entered their room, Fuyuki's excitement returned in full force.
"I can't believe how much you ate back there!" Fuyuki laughed, shaking her head in amazement. "You've got some serious appetite, Dakari! It's like you've got a bottomless pit for a stomach."
Dakari offered a faint smile as she settled onto her bed. "I've always had a big appetite. I guess I burn a lot of energy."
Fuyuki flopped onto her own bed, still brimming with enthusiasm. "Well, it was impressive, that's for sure! Hey, remember that old sync meter I showed you earlier?" Her eyes lit up with excitement as she sat up suddenly. "Wanna give it a try? I've been dying to figure out how it works, but I haven't had any luck."
Dakari, feeling a pull of curiosity, nodded. "Sure, let's take a look."
Fuyuki bounced off her bed and retrieved the sync meter from its spot in the corner. She handed it to Dakari with a grin. "I don't know if it still works, but maybe we can get it to do something. I mean, you never know, right?"
Dakari took the meter, turning it over in her hands. The worn metal felt oddly familiar, and she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd seen something like this before. She decided to try her sync bangle to see if it would help. Retrieving the black bangle that Serin had given her, she slipped it onto her wrist.
Fuyuki's eyes widened as she noticed the bangle. "Whoa… is that a sync key?" she asked, her voice full of astonishment. "But… I've never seen one like that before. It's so… different. Where did you get it?"
Dakari hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "A friend gave it to me. I'm not entirely sure what it does yet."
Fuyuki leaned in closer, her curiosity piqued. "That's amazing! Most sync keys are pretty standard, like mine." She raised her hand, revealing her sync key—a small, silver anklet that wound around her leg like a vine, with delicate petals and leaves etched into the metal. The anklet had a thin, flexible design that seemed to shimmer with a soft green light.
"See?" Fuyuki continued, pointing to her anklet. "It's supposed to represent growth or adaptability, or something like that. It's nice, but nothing as mysterious as yours. I mean, I've never even heard of a black sync key! Are you sure it's safe?"
Dakari shrugged slightly, her expression remaining neutral. "I'm not sure. I've been trying to figure it out myself."
Fuyuki's excitement only grew. "Well, maybe this old meter can help us! It might be able to tell us something about your key, or at least do something cool!"
Dakari nodded, intrigued by the idea. She turned her attention back to the sync meter, her fingers moving over its dials and buttons. The device felt familiar, and as she fiddled with the controls, she began to understand how it worked. With a few adjustments, the meter suddenly hummed to life, its lights flickering erratically.
Fuyuki gasped, her eyes wide with excitement. "Whoa! It did something! I've never seen it react like that before!"
Dakari narrowed her eyes, concentrating on the device. "It's reacting to something… but I'm not sure what yet." She adjusted the dials further, trying to stabilize the flickering lights. The meter emitted a soft, distorted voice, but before they could make out any words, it powered down abruptly.
"What was that?" Fuyuki asked, her voice a mix of excitement and curiosity. "Do you think it was trying to tell us something?"
Dakari considered the question, her mind racing. "Maybe," she whispered, feeling a chill run through her. "But whatever it is… it's important."
Fuyuki nodded eagerly. "We should keep trying! Maybe it's a message, or maybe it's trying to sync with your key! What do you think?"
Dakari hesitated, unsure of what to make of the situation. "Let's keep working on it," she finally said. "But we need to be careful. We don't know what this device is capable of."
Fuyuki agreed, her excitement tempered by the seriousness in Dakari's voice. "Right, right. We'll be careful. But I've got a good feeling about this, Dakari. I think we're onto something big."
As they continued to tinker with the sync meter, the room was filled with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. The device powered up again, this time brighter, and a faint, distorted message played—but it cut off before they could understand it.
Fuyuki leaned in, her voice barely a whisper. "Do you think… it's trying to tell us something?"
Dakari's eyes narrowed as she studied the meter. "It's possible," she replied, her voice steady. "But whatever it's trying to say, we need to figure it out. There's something about this… something we're missing."
Fuyuki tilted her head, her gaze drifting to Dakari's hands. She noticed the way Dakari's fingers moved with surprising precision over the sync meter's worn-out surface, as if they had done this a thousand times before. "You really seem to know your way around this kind of tech," she noted, trying to keep her voice light but unable to hide the curiosity. She wondered how someone so guarded could work so naturally with something so old and strange.
Dakari didn't answer immediately. She kept her gaze fixed on the device, her fingers deftly reconnecting a series of loose wires and circuits. "Not exactly," she finally muttered, her tone flat. "But I… remember some things."
"Like what?" Fuyuki pressed, leaning in closer. "I mean, I've never seen one of these things actually work. How do you know what to do?"
Dakari's jaw tightened slightly, her eyes still focused on the flickering screen of the meter. "Just… fragments," she replied, her voice more clipped than before. "I don't know how to explain it."
Fuyuki seemed to sense the tension in her response and decided to back off a bit. "Okay, no worries. Just… do what you're doing," she said, a small smile on her face, trying to keep the atmosphere light.
Dakari continued to work, adjusting the cracked display, and fiddling with a few loose components. The sync meter sputtered again, the screen flickering and then displaying more scrambled text:
"Pro…GRex… Bio-Synchro… Neural Core…"
A faint audio began to play, garbled and distorted. The sound was erratic, like a recording from an old, damaged tape. Dakari's head throbbed as if an unseen force pressed against her temples. A sharp, stabbing pain shot through her head, and for an instant, it felt like a voice—no, a scream—was echoing inside her mind. She blinked hard, trying to dispel the sensation, but the discomfort lingered, like a dark shadow at the edge of her consciousness:
"…ject… GRex… syn…chronization… anomaly det…detected…"
Dakari's hands froze. Her breath hitched, and for a moment, it felt like the room shrank around her. GRex. The word reverberated in her mind, a jagged piece of glass scraping against her thoughts. An image flashed—a blinding light overhead, the cold metal beneath her, muffled voices shouting in the background. Her fingers trembled slightly on the sync meter. She tried to shake off the sensation, but it clung to her, the name GRex pulsing like an open wound.
Her grip tightened around the device, her knuckles turning white as she fought against the sudden surge of anxiety that threatened to overtake her. A cold sweat formed at the nape of her neck. Why does it feel so familiar? Why does it feel like something I should be afraid of? Her heartbeat quickened, pounding painfully in her chest.
Fuyuki didn't seem to notice Dakari's reaction; she was too focused on the sync meter. "What does that mean? 'Project GRex'?" she wondered aloud, leaning in closer to the device. "And what's a neural core?"
Dakari remained silent, her fingers tightening around the edge of the sync meter. Her heart was pounding in her ears, and a cold sweat formed at the back of her neck. She didn't know what 'GRex' meant, but the word alone felt like a sharp knife slicing through the haze of her fragmented memory.
"Hey… Dakari?" Fuyuki's voice cut through her thoughts, snapping her back to the present. "Are you okay?" Dakari blinked again, her expression hardening as she forced herself to regain control. "I'm fine," she said curtly, though her voice wavered slightly. "Let's just… keep going."
Fuyuki hesitated, sensing something was off, but she nodded. "Okay… but if you need to stop, just say so," she offered gently. Dakari nodded once, quickly, and turned her attention back to the meter. The data log continued to stutter and glitch, displaying more disjointed phrases:
"…index… deviation… neural feedback loop… isolation pro…tocol…"
The sync meter emitted a low, vibrating hum that grew louder, the screen flickering wildly. Suddenly, it flared to life, sending a sharp pulse of energy through the room. A nearby storage terminal began to whir uncontrollably, its display lighting up with erratic, flashing symbols. The air seemed to crackle with static, and a faint smell of burnt wiring filled the room.
Fuyuki jumped back, alarmed. "Whoa! What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything!" Dakari snapped, watching as Fuyuki frantically tried to shut down the terminal. Her hands moved quickly, fingers flying over the controls, attempting to disable the system before it drew more attention.
"Come on, come on…" Fuyuki muttered under her breath, tapping several buttons in quick succession. But the terminal continued to glitch, its screen flashing in a rapid, disorienting pattern.
Then, Fuyuki glanced at Dakari's wrist. "Wait… your sync key!" she blurted out, her eyes widening. "It's… glowing! Is it syncing with the meter?"
Dakari looked down at her wrist. Her sync bangle—black and sleek, with an unusual design—was pulsing with a faint glow, in rhythm with the sync meter's erratic hum. She felt a subtle vibration coursing through her, almost like the device was responding to something deep within her.
"I… I don't know," Dakari replied, a mixture of confusion and caution in her voice. "It's not supposed to do that…" She felt a jolt of something—an odd sensation that shot up her arm, like a current running through her veins. The sensation was familiar, almost comforting… and yet deeply unsettling.
Fuyuki's eyes darted between the sync key and the meter. "Whatever it's doing, it's definitely interacting!" she exclaimed. "But why? And how?"
The sync meter emitted a sharp, ear-piercing beep, and then, without warning, a wave of force exploded outward from its core. Dakari felt the air ripple, a low vibration coursing through her bones. A static charge prickled across her skin, and there was a faint metallic taste on her tongue, like the aftermath of lightning. The room shuddered, lights flickering like a dying heartbeat before plunging them into a thick, suffocating darkness.
Fuyuki yelped in surprise. "Ah! What was that?!"
"I don't know," Dakari replied, feeling the vibrations from the shockwave resonate through her bangle and up her arm. "But it's not good. We need to hide this thing, now."
The room was pitch black, save for the faint, erratic glow coming from the sync meter's screen. They heard distant shouts and the sound of footsteps growing louder in the hallway outside. An alarm began to blare, echoing through the walls—a security breach warning.
Fuyuki's face went pale in the dim light. "Oh no… we're in trouble," she whispered. "If they find this, they'll take it away. We can't let them destroy it!"
Dakari nodded, her mind racing. "Quick, help me find a place to hide it," she whispered back.
They scrambled in the dark, fumbling around the room. Fuyuki's hand brushed against a loose floor panel under the bed. "Here!" she whispered urgently. "I found a spot!"
Dakari slid the sync meter into the small space beneath the floorboard just as the footsteps grew louder outside their door. She quickly covered the panel and pressed herself against the wall, her heart pounding in her chest despite her calm exterior. Beside her, Fuyuki's breaths were quick and shallow, the only sound breaking the heavy silence.
The lights flickered back on with a sharp buzz, momentarily blinding them as their eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. The door creaked open, and a stern-faced instructor appeared in the doorway, flanked by a small, hovering drone that scanned the room with a soft, blue light.
"Is everything alright in here?" the instructor asked, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the room, pausing on the two girls standing suspiciously in the corner. "We detected a tech malfunction in this sector, and an alarm went off. What happened?"
Dakari kept her expression neutral, her face betraying none of the tension she felt. She could sense Fuyuki beside her, her roommate practically vibrating with nervous energy. Her mind raced, considering their options. Stay silent? Let Fuyuki talk? If she speaks, does she risk revealing too much?
Fuyuki swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the dark pressing on her, but forced a smile anyway. Her heart hammered against her ribs, her mind racing through every possible excuse. "Just act normal, act normal," she silently chanted to herself, forcing her lips to curl upward, even though her palms were slick with sweat. When the instructor's shadow fell across the doorway, she jumped a little, then quickly caught herself, plastering on an even wider smile. "Oh, yes! Everything's fine!" she chirped, voice pitched just a little too high. "Just a minor power glitch, I guess. You know how these old buildings can be!"
The instructor's gaze bore into Dakari, sharp and suspicious, as if he could peel back her outer layers with just a look. His eyes flicked from her face to her stance, noting the tension in her shoulders, the tightness in her jaw. He was looking for something—anything—that would confirm his doubts. Dakari's heart quickened, but she kept her face perfectly composed, her gaze steady, giving away nothing. Stay calm. Don't let him see. She could almost feel his eyes trying to pry her open, but she remained as cold and unreadable as a locked door. The less he knew, the better. "And you?" the instructor asked, his voice sharper now. "Why are you both standing over there… in the corner?"
Dakari weighed her response, feeling Fuyuki's panic radiating beside her. She could sense the girl was on the verge of blurting something out. Before she could decide on a reply, Fuyuki jumped in, her voice laced with an exaggerated cheerfulness. "Oh, we were just… uhh, looking for a… um, bug!" she blurted out, waving her hands in a vague motion. "Yeah! There was this really big bug, and we were trying to… shoo it away!"
Dakari blinked, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. A bug? She internally sighed, but kept her face impassive, feeling a mix of frustration and reluctant amusement. Fuyuki, you're hopeless… she thought. But maybe, just maybe, they could get away with it.
The instructor raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "A bug?" he repeated, skepticism evident in his tone.
"Yes!" Fuyuki nodded enthusiastically, her smile widening. "A huge one! With… with wings!" She flapped her arms for emphasis. "It flew in from the window, and we didn't want to bother anyone, so we just… handled it ourselves!"
Dakari stayed silent, letting Fuyuki's chaotic explanation unfold. Her pulse was steady, her expression blank. Inside, her mind was a whirl of calculations—estimating the instructor's patience, judging the likelihood of his belief in such a ridiculous excuse. If this falls apart, how do we explain the sync meter? Her fingers twitched involuntarily, itching to reach for her sync key hidden under her sleeve.
The instructor's gaze shifted back to her. She met his eyes calmly, her face a mask of cold indifference. She wouldn't give him anything more to work with. Let him find his answers elsewhere.
The drone emitted a soft beep, signaling no unauthorized tech or imminent threat detected. The instructor's shoulders relaxed, just slightly. He exhaled, seeming to accept the flimsy explanation—though reluctantly.
"Well," he finally said, his voice carrying a warning undertone, "if there's any more 'bugs' or strange activity, you report it immediately. Understood?"
Fuyuki nodded eagerly. "Absolutely! We'll keep an eye out!"
The instructor gave them one last scrutinizing look before turning to leave. "Make sure you do," he muttered, the door closing behind him with a soft click.
As soon as he was gone, Fuyuki let out a loud breath she had been holding. "Oh my gosh, that was so close!" she whispered, her heart still racing.
Dakari stayed motionless, her hand hovering over the hidden floorboard, her senses stretched taut like a wire ready to snap. She listened intently as the instructor's footsteps faded, her expression cool and controlled, but her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. "Too close," she muttered, the words barely a breath. Her gaze slid to Fuyuki, her voice clipped, her tone almost clinical. "We got lucky. That kind of luck doesn't last." Even as she spoke, she was already calculating their next steps, eyes narrowing slightly as her mind raced ahead."
Fuyuki nodded, her grin sheepish. "Sorry about the bug story… it was the first thing that came to mind."
Dakari gave a faint, reluctant smirk. "Creative," she admitted, then added in a softer tone, "But next time, try not to panic."
Fuyuki's smile faded slightly, replaced by a more serious expression. "Right… next time." She paused, then looked down at the floorboard, her curiosity reignited. "So… what do we do now? I mean, about the sync meter? Should we try fixing it again?"
Dakari hesitated, her kuudere facade flickering as her thoughts spiraled. There was something about that sync meter… something it had triggered in her. A name, an image, a feeling she couldn't place. GRex. Why does that word keep echoing in my head? She felt a cold knot of fear in her stomach, but she pushed it down, burying it deep under layers of calm detachment.
"We wait," she said finally, her voice steady, betraying none of her inner turmoil. "Let things settle. We can't risk drawing more attention."
Fuyuki nodded, but she seemed reluctant to leave it at that. "But… you seemed to know what you were doing with it," she pressed gently. "How do you know so much about this stuff?"
Dakari's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of annoyance crossing her features. She didn't like questions about herself—didn't like feeling exposed. "I just do," she answered curtly. "Let's leave it at that."
Fuyuki's curiosity didn't wane, but she nodded, respecting Dakari's boundaries for now. "Okay… but if we're going to figure this out, we're going to need more than just guesses," she murmured, her eyes drifting back to the hidden sync meter.
Dakari nodded, her mind already working through the possibilities, the risks. "We will," she agreed, her tone firm. "But not right now."
She glanced at Fuyuki, who was still staring at the floorboard as if expecting it to spring open. "And Fuyuki," Dakari said, her voice dipping slightly, a rare hint of vulnerability threading through her kuudere calm, "thanks… for that back there. Even if it was… exaggerated." She paused, wrestling with a dozen different thoughts. "I don't know what I'd do without you," she almost said, but the words felt too heavy, too revealing. Instead, she nodded once, her expression softening just a fraction. "You handled it well," she settled on, even though the gratitude felt strange in her mouth.
Fuyuki grinned, clearly relieved to hear some acknowledgement. "No problem! I'm good at… being a distraction," she joked.
Dakari gave a tiny smile, more to herself than Fuyuki. "Yeah," she replied quietly, "you are."
There was a brief pause, the tension in the room slowly ebbing away. But just as the moment began to settle, Fuyuki's tablet emitted a soft chime, vibrating slightly on the desk. She blinked, momentarily startled by the sound, and reached for it with a quick motion.
"What's that?" Dakari asked, her voice still measured but curious.
Fuyuki glanced at the screen and her eyes widened. "Oh! It's an update from the admin system. Looks like… my class schedule?" She scrolled through the message, her brows furrowing. "Wait… this can't be right."
Dakari's attention sharpened, a slight frown forming on her lips. "What do you mean?"
Fuyuki tapped a few more times on her tablet, double-checking the information. "It says… I have a new classmate." She looked up at Dakari, her face a mix of confusion and surprise. "And it's you."
Dakari's expression didn't change, but a flicker of something—annoyance, curiosity, maybe even resignation—crossed her eyes. "Me?" she repeated, a hint of skepticism in her tone.
Fuyuki nodded, holding up the screen for Dakari to see. "Yep! According to this, you're in all my classes now! That's… weird, right?"
Dakari stared at the screen, feeling a strange knot tightening in her chest. All of Fuyuki's classes? She couldn't help but feel a twinge of frustration. It was as if the universe, or the administration, was playing some kind of joke on her. "So… I guess we're stuck together," she murmured, half to herself.
Fuyuki beamed, seemingly thrilled by the prospect. "Looks like it! Hey, maybe this isn't so bad!" she said, trying to sound optimistic. "I mean, now we can help each other out more! And I can show you the ropes, introduce you to everyone… It could be kinda fun, right?
Dakari didn't immediately respond, her mind churning with thoughts. She had hoped for some time to herself, to figure out her own path in this strange new place. But now it seemed like she'd be shadowed by this overly friendly, overly curious roommate. Her thoughts raced with frustration: How am I supposed to keep my distance when she's always around? She glanced at Fuyuki, who was practically bouncing with excitement, and let out a quiet sigh. "Yeah… fun," she replied, her tone somewhere between resigned and mildly amused.
Fuyuki's grin widened. "Oh, come on, Dakari! This'll be great! We'll make a good team, you'll see." Dakari offered a noncommittal nod, her mind still lingering on the sync meter hidden beneath the floorboard and the strange flicker of recognition it had sparked. "Sure," she said, almost absently, as her gaze drifted back to the covered panel on the floor.
As Fuyuki continued to chatter excitedly about their upcoming classes, Dakari remained quiet, her thoughts pulling her deeper into a spiral of uncertainties. Whatever was happening, whatever this place held for her, she had a feeling it was only the beginning.
And something told her… things were going to get a lot more complicated.