COLD SHOULDER

Steam and tray clatter filled the lunch block at Highschool A. Val dropped into his usual corner with Dawn and the Gu twins—Mei on one side, Xian on the other, Dawn across the table, her chaotic blonde hair catching the flat fluorescent light. They were mid-laugh over something stupid and small, the easy rhythm that had settled in since Dawn's library confession. He still heated up whenever Dawn leaned in, replies arriving half a beat late—but he stayed at the table when she laughed, and that was new enough to notice. The table had room to breathe.

A loose knot of James's lunch-table kids drifted past in the corridor. Someone hooked his name, friendly enough to sound like an invitation.

"Hi," Val said, lifting a hand without breaking stride. He kept walking toward Dawn and the twins and did not look back to see who had called.

Karen, Sel, and Emily let their words carry on purpose. Karen's voice stayed level, bored enough to wound. Sel muttered, "Don't bother." Emily added, "He's too good for us now," shoulders turned so the chill was not quite a fight. Val kept walking.

Chris was still lobbying at the James table, gesturing at the empty seat beside him as if Val might finally take it. Karen cut across him before he could finish.

"Stop trying to get him to sit with us, Chris."

Chris went quiet, color in his face, irritation aimed at the girls. Val did not slow. Whatever Chris had wanted stayed in the corridor behind him.

For half a step he was back in the old rhythm—automatic warmth for John's lunch crowd, the version of him that handed out smiles without counting cost. His jaw tightened; irritation iced over fast. Mina broke away from her cluster with one small wave. He answered her look with the same narrow chill he had aimed at Karen's group. His pupils flashed dark red, whites swallowed black—then brown and ordinary again. Mina jerked like she'd been slapped. Val shoved the mask back into place.

"Hi," he said, short and flat, and kept moving.

Dawn and the Gu twins were still talking ahead. He caught up and hugged Dawn quick—familiar and open, the way he hadn't looked at Mina ten seconds ago.

Behind him Mina had not moved. Dawn got the grin and open arms he used to aim at Mina without thinking; Mina got the devil flash and a flat syllable. Her smile cracked and did not come back. Val was already back on Dawn's shoulder before Mina found her feet again.

Alex waited at the edge of the hall where the transfer students ate—the Grade 8 friend Val had barely spoken to since he'd come back to this school. Val stopped, traded catch-up and a real laugh, and stayed in the talk longer than he'd meant to.

Dawn wilted over her tray. "I can't feel Aura moving at all," she said. "It's impossible."

Val said Xian had had it worse at first—Mage line, not Priest. Xian's mouth twisted.

"That's not true," Xian said.

Dawn sat up straighter. Priest and Mage were the same thing in her book; Val was nitpicking to make her feel small.

Dawn looked ready to argue until Val started with Initial—edges only, pressure and warmth you noticed but couldn't draw in yet. Beginner was reaching on purpose. Novice was where read and absorb actually lived. "You're early," he told her. "Not broken." Xian had gate runs under her belt at Initial already; of course she'd felt more. Mei listened. Xian's scowl eased enough to hear him out.