Several people were already gathered inside the party hall of the Evans Star Hotel.

"Ah—hello, sir! I’m Kiera, a friend of Rin’s...!" She hurriedly corrected herself. "I mean, Rin’s classmate."

"Hello. Nice to meet you," the man replied with a polite nod.

"I’m sorry I didn’t greet you properly earlier," Leo added, bowing his head slightly.

"It’s been a while, Leo. I know you’ve been busy. There’s nothing for you to apologize for," Rin’s father said calmly.

"Ah, hello. I’m Leon. I share a room with Rin at the academy."

"...Hmm?"

His brow twitched almost imperceptibly.

"Roommate?" He paused, then gave a faint, amused exhale. "I see. I was wondering why there were so many girls here. So you were a boy."

Leona froze for half a second, then laughed awkwardly. "Yes, sir. I get that a lot."

Rin still hadn’t arrived, and introducing ourselves one by one to his father made the atmosphere slightly stiff.

It would have been easier if he gave off a warm, fatherly air, but the resemblance to Rin was striking—sharp features, a composed demeanor, and an expression even colder than his son’s.

Coupled with his youthful appearance, he looked more like Rin’s older brother than his father.

After Nora and Lira finished their greetings, his gaze finally shifted toward Ryan.

"...And you are?"

"Ah, hello. Nice to meet you," Ryan said, straightening his posture. "I’m Ryan. I’m in the same class as Rin."

"My son’s friend...?"

The tone was noticeably different—more cautious, almost puzzled. His eyes lingered on Ryan, assessing him in silence.

"Um..."

"...Ah, forgive me," Rin’s father said after a brief pause. "That was rude of me."

"No, it’s okay," Ryan replied quickly.

"No, truly. I apologize. It’s just that..." He hesitated, then spoke honestly. "You seem like the type my son wouldn’t usually get along with."

"...What?" Ryan blinked.

"It’s a bad habit of mine—judging people by appearance. I know that’s not something to be proud of," he admitted. "Normally I’m not like this. This is simply my first time meeting Rin’s friends, so I suppose I’m a bit flustered."

Ryan felt a flicker of curiosity at the words the type my son wouldn’t like, but the atmosphere wasn’t right to press further.

"I understand," he said instead, offering a polite smile.

Rin’s father nodded, then looked around the group.

"In any case, it’s nice to meet you all. The hotel may not be extravagant, but it’s run by our company, so please enjoy the food freely."

He gestured toward the tables lined with neatly arranged dishes.

"And if you don’t mind," he continued, his tone softening just a little, "I’d like to hear about what Rin’s been doing at the academy while we wait for him."

The tension eased almost immediately.

Kiera was the first to speak up again.

"Rin’s been... well, Rin. He causes trouble, but he always helps people when it matters."

Leona crossed her arms. "He’s reckless. Too reckless. But he never backs down when someone’s in danger."

Nora nodded. "He’s surprisingly kind. He pretends not to care, but he remembers small things about people."

Ryan added quietly, "He’s strong. Not just in ability, but mentally. He keeps moving forward even when things should’ve broken him."

Rin’s father listened without interrupting, his expression unreadable—but for a brief moment, something like pride flickered in his eyes.

"...I see," he said softly.

The atmosphere wasn’t bad.

It felt like the after-party they never had—a calm, awkward, but genuine gathering. And as cold as Rin’s father initially seemed, he didn’t feel like a bad person at all.

Now, all that was left was for Rin to arrive.

---

The conversation flowed more easily after that.

Small stories surfaced—half-embarrassing, half-fond memories from academy life. Kiera talked about Rin skipping meals and then scolding others for doing the same.

Leona mentioned training sessions that ended with Rin barely standing, yet still refusing to quit.

Rin’s father listened.

He didn’t smile much, but he didn’t interrupt either. His fingers rested lightly against the rim of his glass, unmoving, as though he were afraid that if he shifted even slightly, the moment would break.

"...He sounds troublesome," he said at last.

But the word didn’t carry annoyance.

"If that’s what you call troublesome," Leona replied, "then yes. Very."

A faint huff of amusement escaped him before he could stop it.

"I suppose that hasn’t changed," he murmured. "His mother used to say the same thing."

For a brief second, the room went quiet.

Then—

footsteps.

They were faint at first, barely audible beneath the hum of conversation and clinking dishes. But Ryan noticed immediately. His head lifted before anyone else’s, eyes snapping toward the entrance.

"...Did you hear that?" he asked.

Kiera turned. "Hear what—"

The door to the party hall opened.

For a brief moment, it felt as if the entire room forgot how to breathe.

The person who stepped inside was unmistakably Rin.

It was the same face, the same build—there was no doubt about that. But everything else was wrong. No, different.

He wasn’t wearing his glasses. His hair, which was usually tied back carelessly or left half-messy, fell neatly around his face, styled with an attention to detail none of them had ever seen before. Even the stubborn stray strands that always refused to behave were gone.

The Rin they knew—the one Kiera and Leona often teased for looking like a hopeless loser—was nowhere to be found.

Instead, a sharply dressed, refined young man stood beyond the doorway, posture straight, presence heavy.

Kiera and Leona both sucked in sharp breaths without realizing it. Ryan could hear it clearly in the sudden silence.

But then he noticed it.

Rin’s eyes.

Red, vivid beneath his slightly long bangs, and unmistakably filled with irritation.

The moment his gaze landed on them, his expression darkened. He didn’t shout. He didn’t sneer. He simply frowned—but the effect was immediate. The lively chatter in the hall died in an instant, like a switch had been flipped.

Ryan swallowed.

Rin frowned often, sure—but this felt different. This wasn’t mild annoyance or habitual fatigue.

This was genuine displeasure.

"...What is this?"

Rin finally spoke, his voice calm, low, and edged with something sharp.

The words echoed through the hall.

No one answered right away.