Critical Hit to Pride and an Ice Cream That Never Came
The hours passed in the blink of an eye.
The trio was on their way back to their new clan base: Sora’s house.
However, there was something very peculiar on both girls' heads. Each had a bump almost as big as their head.
What had happened?
Minutes earlier, as they left the school, Airi intercepted them and properly scolded them for the chaos they’d caused—then, as a final touch, bonked both of them on the head.
Sora sighed at the sight of his two dejected companions. Shiori seemed to be walking sideways, while Mochi muttered purification prayers about the class rep.
“Airi hits way too hard for critical damage,” Sora thought.
Sora stopped for a moment and looked at both girls. They really looked pitiful.
“Hey, don’t make those faces,” Sora said with a faint smile, resting a hand on each of their shoulders. “Airi’s just doing her job as class rep… even if she goes a bit overboard sometimes, hehe.”
Mochi looked at him with teary eyes, rubbing her head. “It… it really hurt, Sora,” she sniffled. “A cleric shouldn’t be punished for taking care of her husband!”
“I was just poking around the school files… Maybe sending her some kind of prank on her phone wouldn’t be a bad idea…” Shiori added, her voice trembling. “Or maybe I just need some ice cream…”
Sora let out a soft laugh.
“Alright, I get it. How about we go buy something together? My treat—whatever you want. Consider it a reward for surviving your first encounter with Airi.”
The idea of Sora buying them something made Mochi’s cat ears perk up, and Shiori’s eyes lit up for a moment.
Sora felt relieved; his duty as Guardian was fulfilled... or so he thought.
As they turned the corner of the street, the atmosphere changed.
A group of girls in different uniforms blocked their path. At the center of this elite group stood Mika Tamaki herself.
Mika stopped when she saw them, her serious expression shifting into a smug smile as she noticed Sora. Her friends stepped closer, sizing the trio up from head to toe.
"Oh, look who it is!" one of Mika's friends exclaimed, pointing at Mochi. "Isn't that the girl who was shouting through the speakers? Her hairstyle looks like it came straight out of a 90s fashion magazine."
"And the gray-haired one?" another added, laughing. "Did you drag her out of an internet cave, Yamamoto? She smells like cheap coffee, and you can tell she has no social life."
Sora felt the joy he had just injected into Mochi and Shiori evaporate instantly.
Sora stepped forward, positioning himself between the girls and Mika's group. His Guardian instinct activated immediately; he couldn't allow the bonus he'd worked so hard to restore to drop back to zero.
"Hey, that's enough," Sora said with a firm voice, though he tried to stay calm. "If you have a problem with what happened at school, it's with me. You don't have to mess with them."
However, Mika, who until that moment had remained silent observing her nails, looked up.
"Are you protecting them, Yamamoto? How cute." Mika walked toward him, stopping just inches away, forcing him to notice her expensive perfume that contrasted with the street smell. "But let me tell you something: this isn't one of your little games. There are no health bars here, unlike in those little games of yours..."
Mika turned toward her friends, but her words were still directed at Sora, like poisoned arrows. "Leave him, girls. In the end, Yamamoto is just doing what he does best: picking up scraps."
Sora felt a sting in his chest, but Mika wasn't finished. She leaned close to Sora's ear, lowering her voice so the blow would be more personal.
"Look at them carefully, hero. You surround yourself with broken people because you're afraid to admit that you're broken too. A cleric who can't tell reality from fantasy and a library rat who hides behind a screen... They're pathetic. And you're the most pathetic of all for believing this guild of losers is worth anything..."
The silence became absolute. Not even Mika's friends dared to laugh this time; the attack had been too personal, too real. Sora searched for something to say, a counterattack... but found nothing. Mika's words had struck a blind spot in Sora.
Shiori lowered her head, gripping her backpack straps until her knuckles turned white. Mochi, for her part, hugged her wooden spoon against her chest, but it no longer seemed like a weapon, just a useless piece of wood that couldn't protect her from the truth.
Mika observed Sora's expression. She expected to see fury, but only found a deep disappointment that made her feel a strange twinge of discomfort in her stomach.
"H-hey Mika, don't you think that's..." one of Mika's friends said, visibly uncomfortable—even for her, it had been too much.
"Let's go. We've already wasted too much time with low-level people," Mika murmured, turning around abruptly.
Her friends followed in awkward silence, leaving Sora and the girls completely alone.
Sora tried to say something to cheer them up, but the words got stuck in his throat. The reward ice cream no longer seemed like a good idea.
That afternoon, the trio walked the rest of the way without saying a single word.
The server of happiness had crashed.