The cafeteria buzzed with activity when Asher and his companions arrived, the space already filled with students seated in their self-selected groups. After collecting their meals from the serving line, they found an empty table tucked away from the main crowd. The relative peace lasted less than sixty seconds before Steven Fletcher materialized beside them, his presence as sudden as it was unwelcome.
"I suppose this seat is not taken?" he asked, though his tone suggested it wasn't really a question. His words carried the entitled edge of someone unused to hearing 'no.'
"Of course," Yuno responded diplomatically, though her eyes flickered briefly to Asher.
Steven settled himself into the chair with practiced grace, immediately launching into his introduction. "I am Steven... Steven Fletcher, governor's son. You must have heard of me." His voice carried the rehearsed quality of someone who had delivered this line countless times before.
"Not really," Kira replied flatly, her journalist's instinct for deflating oversized egos showing through.
Yuno, ever the peacemaker, offered, "I think I have. The elections last year, you were on TV?"
"Yeah, that," Steven preened, his smile brightening at the recognition.
Throughout the exchange, Asher maintained his characteristic silence, though his eyes occasionally drifted to Steven with analytical interest. Despite his disheveled appearance - which seemed at odds with his claimed status - there was something about Steven that didn't quite add up. Asher's own social limitations suddenly felt more pronounced; years of minimal interaction had left him ill-equipped for casual conversation. The fact that he'd somehow found himself part of this impromptu group still puzzled him.
Steven, perhaps interpreting Asher's silence as weakness, turned his attention to him. "So... Asher is it? It seems you're not the talking type, are you? Either way, you're not in my league anyway." The words dripped with casual disdain.
The table fell silent, all eyes ping-ponging between Asher and Steven. The tension crackled like static electricity before a storm. Asher's response came in the form of a slow, deliberate smirk that transformed his usually neutral expression into something decidedly more dangerous. He turned to face Steven directly, his eyes boring into the other boy with an intensity that made Steven visibly flinch.
"Don't you dare with me," Asher's voice came out low and controlled, each word precisely chosen. "I can ruin your life within minutes if I please. I'm sure you won't like that, drug." The last word carried a weight that suggested he knew far more than he should.
Without waiting for a response, Asher rose from his seat with fluid grace and strode out of the cafeteria, leaving behind a stunned silence and a visibly shaken Steven Fletcher. The remaining group members exchanged glances, suddenly aware that their quiet companion might be harboring depths none of them had suspected.
The cafeteria's ambient noise seemed to rush back in to fill the void left by Asher's departure, but the tension at their table remained, thick enough to cut with a knife. Steven's carefully constructed facade of superiority had cracked, revealing a flash of genuine fear beneath the surface. Whatever Asher knew - or thought he knew - had clearly struck a nerve.
In the sanctuary of his room, Asher sat motionless, his mind replaying the cafeteria confrontation like a broken record. Steven Fletcher's unexpected presence had ripped open old wounds he'd thought long scarred over. The mere thought of sharing space with someone so deeply entangled in his past made his stomach churn. With mechanical movements, he gathered his toiletries, seeking refuge in the simple ritual of a bath.
Post-bath, his approach to grooming remained characteristically minimal. Running oil through his dark hair, he gave it that signature disheveled look - the kind that spoke of careful carelessness. The shiny, frizzled effect suited him perfectly, an unintentional armor against the world. Dressed in comfortable clothes that hung loosely on his frame, he reached for his trusted recorder and earpiece. His gaze caught on the headphones lying nearby, but he deliberately turned away, some memories still too raw to touch.
The familiar voices from his favorite podcast wrapped around him like a comfort blanket. Before long, the soothing voices lulled him into an unexpected slumber, his body surrendering to exhaustion he hadn't realized he carried.
Morning announced itself harshly, sunlight stabbing through his eyelids like golden daggers. He squinted, his movements sluggish as he changed clothes in response to the blaring alarm. The morning routine felt like moving through water - familiar yet somehow resistant.
The cafeteria's morning atmosphere carried none of yesterday's tension when he arrived. He had barely settled into his solitary breakfast when Kira materialized beside him, her presence both unexpected and oddly welcome.
"Good morning handsome," she said, her voice carrying a warmth that seemed to defy the early hour.
"What do you want, Kira?" His response came with the barest hint of a smile, so slight it might have been imagined.
"Nothing much, just checking," she replied, her own smile broadening as if she'd caught his almost-invisible one.
His question about their other companions revealed the morning's dynamics - Yuno observing his fast in the common area, while Derek lost himself in virtual worlds. The conversation lapsed into comfortable silence until the missing pair appeared, completing their unlikely quartet with quiet greetings and sleepy smiles.
Mr. Stanley's entrance transformed the casual breakfast atmosphere. His presence commanded attention without effort as he surveyed the assembled teens. "You all are going to be trained, assessed, and put in the right place," he announced, his voice carrying to every corner of the room. "There are options after the full assessment. I am sure you will make good choices."
His pause at the doorway added weight to his next words: "And also good news - your level of strength will be tested. We will see who is the strongest, and fortunately, some of you get true names." The words hung in the air like morning mist. "Before you ask, a true name is given to the strongest of people above 100 marks."
His departure left the cafeteria buzzing with possibility. The mention of true names and strength assessments had ignited something in the assembled teens - a mixture of anticipation and apprehension that would shape their coming days. For Asher, it represented another layer of complexity in an already complicated new reality, one where his past with Steven Fletcher might prove to be just the beginning of his challenges.
The morning light continued to stream through the cafeteria windows, illuminating dust motes that danced in the air like forgotten dreams, while the students processed this latest development in their evolving story as Dream Keepers.