The final chime of the bell rang clear and crisp, slicing the end of the lecture cleanly. Just like that, the room shifted. Pens dropped, pages flipped shut, chairs creaked as students stretched, stood, and began their usual migration toward the cafeteria.
Damien didn't move.
He remained in his seat, calm and deliberate, while the ambient hum of conversation began to rise. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out the bento box Elysia had prepared for him that morning. Neatly packed, balanced, and always warm from the subtle heat-preserving enchantment in the box. A minor alchemical touch, but thoughtful. Like everything she did.
He popped the lid.
The aroma hit him instantly—soft, savory. Perfectly seasoned vegetables, grilled meat layered over rice, and that familiar, quiet warmth that came from food made by someone who truly knew him.
He didn't miss Elysia's meals. Ever.
Just as he was about to take his first bite, a shadow fell over his desk.
He looked up lazily.
Moren.
