The little spirit bobbed in place, its cheerful demeanor almost infectious.
"I don't feel danger from you," Reader said, tilting his head. "Instead… I feel like we have a connection."
"Yippee!!" the spirit suddenly squealed, its voice high-pitched and bubbly.
Reader jumped, startled by its sudden outburst. "Wait… did you just talk? And why do I understand you?!"
The spirit twirled joyfully in the air, its energy like that of an overexcited puppy.
"Yippee!!" it repeated, spinning faster.
Reader pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to process what was happening. "You're my… Innate Spirit, aren't you?" he asked cautiously, glancing at the system notifications that lingered faintly in the corner of his vision.
The spirit nodded—or at least it seemed to, the top of its flame-like form dipping briefly.
"Okay, great," Reader muttered, still trying to wrap his head around the situation. "But what do I call you?"
"Yippee!!" the little ghost squealed again, bouncing excitedly.
Reader raised an eyebrow. "That's not a name, you know. You're seriously just going to keep saying that?"
The spirit wiggled in place as if daring him to try.
Reader sighed, crossing his arms. "Alright, alright. How about… Pell? Short and simple."
The spirit froze for a moment, then burst into a flurry of glowing sparks, spinning and shouting, "Yippee!!" louder than before.
Reader blinked. "I'll take that as a yes," he said with a faint smirk.
Pell floated closer, circling him like an orbiting moon. For the first time since arriving in this bizarre world, Reader felt a strange sense of comfort. Maybe, just maybe, this little spirit wasn't as useless as it looked.
"Well, Pell," Reader said, holding out his hand instinctively, though he wasn't sure why. "Guess we're stuck together. Let's see what you can do."
Pell pressed against his palm, its warm energy tingling against his skin.
"Yippee!" it chirped once more, its excitement unending.
Reader groaned, walking toward the exit. "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"
The spirit, of course, had no answer other than another joyful shout.
Reader soon remembering that he was still at school shouted
"Shoot! I've gotta get back!" Reader blurted out, his voice tinged with panic as he realized the time. Without a second thought, he darted out of the room, leaving Pell bobbing along behind him like an overeager shadow.
The little spirit chirped happily, completely unbothered by Reader's urgency. Its faint glow trailed behind as they hurried through the school corridors.
____________________________
Hours later at Readers Home, the Dining Table
____________________________
"So, Reader, how was your first day of school?" Rowan asked, his commanding tone breaking the quiet clatter of silverware.
Reader, caught off guard, stuttered, "Y-Yes, Father. School was… wonderful."
In truth, he barely registered the question. His gaze was locked on Pell, who was zipping around the room like an invisible whirlwind, knocking against furniture and curiously inspecting every object within reach. Reader clenched his fork tightly, praying no one else could see the chaos.
"There seems to be a lot on your mind, Reader," Eleanor said, her calm, observant eyes studying him. "Would you like to share?"
Reader forced a smile, waving dismissively. "It's… fine, really."
He forced his gaze back to his food, inwardly screaming. Let's be glad Pell can't be seen by others, he thought, though he wasn't sure how long his luck would last.
Pell, oblivious to Reader's panic, hovered directly under George's thick beard, letting out an occasional "Yippee!" as it bobbed in place.
George, unaware of the chaos inches from his face, adjusted his napkin. "I find that Young Master Reader is far more mature than others his age," the old butler remarked, his tone stern but approving.
Reader stifled a groan. If only George knew how Pell was testing his so-called maturity. He gave a stiff nod, forcing another smile. "Thank you, George."
"Have you made any friends yet?" Eleanor asked, her tone soft but curious.
Reader hesitated. "N-Not yet, but I'm sure I will," he said, glancing away. His focus shifted back to Pell, who was now dangling precariously from the chandelier. Reader swallowed hard, trying to keep his expression neutral.
The conversation drifted to lighter topics, but Reader barely followed along