"Do you maybe have something you wanna tell me?"

Miu’s fingers slowed as Aren brought the topic up. The energy she had just moments ago faded, pausing mid-reach for the next pastry.

"...You noticed something earlier," Aren said, keeping his voice calm and trying not to accuse her of anything.

Her brows furrowed slightly, like she was trying to grab onto something that kept slipping just out of reach.

"...I don’t know how to explain it," she admitted after a moment. "It just...felt wrong. Like a gut feeling that told me I shouldn’t be there."

Miu hesitated again, her eyes lowering to the untouched pastries in front of her. "And that man...the director."

"I feel like I’ve seen him before."

Aren’s eyes widened at what she said, but he tried to rationalize it. She was an idol after all, maybe she’d seen him while traveling for her concerts? It wasn’t too uncommon.

But something in his chest told him that it wasn’t right at all, not even by a long shot.

"...You’re sure?"

Miu shook her head almost immediately. "No... not really. It’s just...a feeling. Like something I should remember, but can’t."

The silence stretched between them for a moment, filled only by the quiet clinking of cups and distant chatter from the café.

"...And the ghouls," Miu said, tightening her fingers around her chair. "They didn’t feel like monsters."

"...I don’t know why, but..." she swallowed, dropping her voice low. "...I feel bad for them."

Her memories, huh?

Professor Voss did tell me that her memories were tampered with. But even now, the memories haven’t returned, which probably means it was done by a high-grade Psychic-user...

Which means...we need another strong Psychic-user to try and penetrate through the spell and reach her memories.

But where can I even find one?

Aren’s fingers tapped lightly against the side of his cup as his thoughts circled.

It’d take too long to go back to Professor Sterling. And we can’t just go back to the Eastern Dominion now, not when we’re on this case.

His gaze drifted briefly toward the direction Stella had left, considering it for only a moment before dismissing it just as quickly.

Hmmm, Stella also has the Psychic Element, but she’s far too inexperienced with it.

But that was when a possible solution came uninvited, surfacing from a place he hadn’t touched in a long time. A name followed close behind it, one he hadn’t expected to remember so clearly.

Marissa May, one of the best Psychic Mystics he’d ever known. She was one of the reasons he’d gotten so strong in such a short amount of time in his past life.

No, Aren—you can’t get involved in that world again. Not in this life.

His gaze lifted to Miu, her sad expression innocent against the troubles he was even considering dragging her into.

No, she’s too dangerous. There’s got to be another way.

Aren sighed as he reached for one of the pastries. He wasn’t one for sweets, but at this point, some sugar was necessary just to keep his head from spinning.

"That girl," Miu started quietly. "I think I’ve seen her before as well."

"—!"

Aren nearly choked.

The Americano he had just taken a sip of went straight back out, spraying across the floor as he coughed violently,

"...What?" he rasped out, staring at her.

Miu blinked, slightly startled by his reaction. "...The girl from earlier." 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

"...You’ve seen her before?"

Miu hesitated, her brows furrowing slightly as she tried to piece it together. "I think so, but it’s the same thing, just...another feeling I had."

Aren leaned back slightly, his mind already racing again.

First, the director. Now her.

...That’s not a coincidence.

His gaze drifted through the window, where the siren of cop cars could still be heard somewhat.

That girl had the Space Element...someone like that doesn’t just appear out of nowhere.

Unlike the East, the Western Dominion only had one centralized university for Mystics. Which meant, there’s only one place a trained Mystic could go...

Aren stood up immediately, slamming his hands against the table as a bead of sweat ran down his face. The action was so abrupt that even Miu flinched in her seat.

"Aren?! What’s going on?"

Without responding, Aren pulled out his phone and tried to find the perfect person to find this information out.

He scrolled for a while until he found it—Elias Crowne. Part of the student council, and someone Aren was like oil and water with.

However, he was also one of the few people who actually had the means to find the information Aren needed right now.

"...Adrian?"

Aren leaned back slightly in his chair. "Busy?"

"Always," Elias replied without missing a beat. There was a faint pause on the other end, as if he was shifting his attention to something else.

"...So, what do you want?"

"I need information."

"...No."

Aren let out a quiet breath, already expecting that answer. "It’s important."

"It always is," Elias said dryly. "And somehow, it’s never my problem."

"Elias, you owe me a favor, remember? I told you that I’d come back to use it."

A soft click of the tongue echoed through the line.

"...Why can’t you just forget about that already..." Elias muttered before exhaling. "Fine. What do you want?"

"I need you to look for someone in the school’s database," he said. "A girl. She should be registered under the Opal School."

"...That already cuts it down to almost nothing," Elias murmured. "You sure about the element?"

"I’m sure."

"Mm."

The quiet resumed, broken only by the faint rhythm of Elias working through whatever system he had access to. Student Council access, Aren knew better than to ask how deep it went.

"Recent graduates... no. Transfers... no...Ah—"

"What?"

"I’ve got a name for you, but I’m not sure it’s who you’re looking for," Elias replied. Even from the static, Aren could tell he was a bit hesitant with the answer.

"Okay, shoot."

"There was a student enrolled in the Opal School," Elias continued. "But...she suddenly quit three years ago."

"What?" Aren frowned. "Why? Didn’t the school contact her guardian or anything?"

"No," Elias replied. "She didn’t have any."There was a professor that sponsored her tuition."

"Okay, great—can you tell me—"

"The professor was killed in an accident two years ago..."

"..."

"...Name of the student?" Aren asked at last.

"Eveline Cain."