The sensation of mana being steadily drained didn’t stop. It had already been ten minutes. Every time he tried to pull his hand away, Pia would start crying again, so Sihyeon ended up staying bitten for minutes at a time as he gently stroked its head.
“Does it eat mana as food?”
“Then that would mean Irregulars’ blood is made of mana.”
“Maybe that only applies to fantasy species?”
“That could be. But still…”
Isn’t it eating too much?
At Hamin’s question, everyone’s gaze turned toward Sihyeon. Estimating how much mana had been drained, Sihyeon spoke.
“I think… about 20%?”
“……”
At his calm tone, the others fell silent. Sihyeon already had a fairly large total mana capacity—if 20% of it had been consumed, that wasn’t a small amount at all.
“…What a glutton. Are you okay?”
“It’s just some mana being drained, so it’s fine.”
Aside from a slight sting when it bit him, there wasn’t really any problem. Of course, if this had to be fed three times a day, that would be a different story—but he wasn’t the only one raising Pia. There were plenty of others whose hands could get bitten.
As he was thinking that, Pia finally released Sihyeon’s hand.
“Pya-pya!”
As if full, it cried out in a high-pitched voice and flapped its wings. It had already been round to begin with, but after eating, it somehow looked even rounder.
“You really ate a lot.”
As Sihyeon gently stroked its wings with his fingertips, Pia rubbed its head against him. Watching it act cute like that, he found himself thinking, So what if it eats a little mana?
“So food is just mana?”
“Maybe it drinks water too?”
“Who has water?”
“I do.”
Geonwoo raised his hand and pulled a water bottle out of the pocket of his windbreaker. The fact that he produced it immediately made Sihyeon stare blankly at it, and Geonwoo muttered, “The field…”
Sihyeon looked at the bottle—the same one he had refused earlier. Even though he had declined it before, he ended up receiving it anyway, which felt oddly awkward.
Taking the bottle, Sihyeon poured some water into the cap and held it out to Pia.
Pia stuck out its tongue and drank.
Lap, lap—after a few small sounds, the water in the cap was gone. It had been fast.
“Looks like it does need water!”
“It must’ve been thirsty this whole time.”
“And it probably couldn’t eat either.”
“…Is that why it was crying?”
As everyone chimed in, Haeun tilted his head. It was a reasonable question, and Sihyeon looked down at Pia in his hand. He remembered how it had cried loudly all night the first day they brought it back. Thinking about it now, maybe it had been hungry.
“If it doesn’t cry tonight, then that must be it.”
If hunger had been the reason, that was actually a relief.
Gently setting Pia down, its tiny feet tapped against the bed as it toddled forward. Like this, aside from its horn, it really didn’t look much different from a bird.
Well, it was a bit rounder.
If it kept growing like this… would it just become a giant ball?
A round creature with legs, wings, and a horn…
Watching it walk on two legs, Sihyeon imagined a fully grown Pia and let out a quiet chuckle. Its fur was already soft—if it grew like this, it’d probably still be fluffy and cute even as an adult.
“Did you find anything else online? Like how long it takes to become an adult?”
“Nothing like that. Just minor stuff. It doesn’t live in groups. It’s rarely found. Sometimes appears where there’s an aurora. And its food is the blood of an adult—that’s about it.”
“There’s really nothing…”
At this point, it was surprising there was even information about its diet.
“Pya-pya!”
As if breaking the mood, Pia cried out and flapped its wings, taking off. Now that it had eaten, it seemed energized, flying around the room more actively than before. For the longest stretch yet, and then it plopped straight down.
That sound felt oddly familiar.
Seowoo picked up the limp creature and looked at it as it chirped in his hand. Even if it didn’t seem like it, it was still just a baby—the way he looked at Pia was full of interest.
“It’s so small.”
“Seems like it’s still a baby.”
“Why is it named Pia?”
“It kept going ‘pii’ or ‘pya,’ so… Pia.”
“…Who named it?”
“Haru hyung.”
“……”
Yeah. I get how you feel.
Watching Seowoo fall silent at the name, Sihyeon muttered inwardly. Turning his head, he saw Haru staring endlessly at Pia in Seowoo’s hands. Sihyeon looked back at Seowoo.
“Yoo Seowoo.”
“Yeah, Sihyeon.”
“Try putting Pia down.”
“On the floor?”
“Yeah.”
At his quiet reply, Seowoo lowered his hands.
“Pya-pya.”
As soon as it touched the ground, Pia toddled forward and made its way toward Haru. Its red eyes flickered.
“I think it wants to be held.”
Gently nudging Haru’s back as he spoke, Haru hesitated before reaching out his hand. Pia climbed onto it with its short legs. Haru’s expression brightened.
“I think Pia really likes Haru hyung!”
“Well, he’s the one who named it. Of course it does.”
“What, Hamin, are you jealous?”
“Stop fighting.”
There wasn’t a single day without them bickering.
Shaking his head as he broke it up, Sihyeon looked at Pia, who was currently the center of attention among the Class A boys.
The intense interest in Pia only died down when Haeun, still bickering with Hamin, pulled out a Jenga set from the closet.
“Anyone want to play Jenga?”
“……”
“If no one plays, I’m going to start singing.”
“Me.”
Cunning.
As Haeun resorted to threats, Sihyeon and Hamin both spoke up with annoyed expressions. Once they were half-forced into it, the rest naturally gathered around the low table they had used during their previous study session.
“Hmm… just playing normally is boring though.”
“You’re the one who suggested it.”
At Haeun’s whining, Hamin replied irritably. While complaining about how to deal with him, Haeun rubbed his chin and pulled out a marker.
“Let’s do couple Jenga.”
As he tried to write something on the blocks, Hamin quickly snatched the marker from his hand.
“What kind of couple Jenga is that?”
“Just let me do it.”
“If it’s like that weird one we did before, I’m not playing.”
Starting with Hamin, complaints poured in. Sihyeon looked at Seowoo, who had implied he’d played it before. If even he was reluctant, Sihyeon was curious how bad it had been.
“You’ve done it before?”
“Yeah.”
“What was the worst penalty?”
Seowoo smiled faintly.
Choosing to remain silent, he gave no answer. Sihyeon dropped the question, but he had a rough idea—it must’ve been pretty bad.
After being bombarded with complaints, Haeun reluctantly stacked the Jenga blocks. Hamin sighed, and Seowoo shook his head—they all looked used to being swept up and then calming him down.
Sihyeon had always wondered why they tolerated Haeun like that—but when he reflected on himself, he let out a sigh.
Thinking about it, it wasn’t that they tolerated him… they just couldn’t win against how persistent he was.
Just like himself right now.
Finally understanding their dynamic, Sihyeon reached out toward the wooden blocks. With everyone helping, the tower was completed quickly.
After that, they discussed the penalty. After several rounds of debate, they settled on flicking the back of the hand. Looking at the top-ranked students of the Monthly Evaluation, Sihyeon realized—just judging by Hamin alone, no one here would go easy.
From that moment on, he started taking the game seriously.
Crash!
The first to topple the tower was Geonwoo.
Everyone except Sihyeon and Haru rushed at him as if they had been waiting.
Smack, smack—the sound of hands hitting his hand sounded almost like a beating.
“Sorry.”
Smack!
“……”
Even Seowoo, smiling as he apologized, struck his hand. Geonwoo’s hand quickly turned red. Sihyeon’s gaze dropped to the Assist Pairing on his wrist—he couldn’t use his ability outside training hours without triggering a warning, so he couldn’t heal him. Instead, he gently brushed over Geonwoo’s hand.
“You’re going easy on him.”
“They were hitting too hard.”
At Seowoo’s quiet comment, Sihyeon answered plainly and refocused on the next round.
Everyone carefully pulled their blocks when it was their turn. This time, the one who toppled the tower was Seowoo—the same person who had shown off perfect moves earlier.
After several more rounds, the game ended with only Sihyeon’s hand remaining unreddened. He checked his phone—somehow, it was already past nine.
“We should probably send them back soon.”
“Ah…”
As he mentioned roll call approaching, Geonwoo let out a disappointed sigh. It was the same with Haru—both of them had a way of sighing that made it hard to ignore.
Trying to ignore it, Sihyeon stayed silent—but then Seowoo spoke.
“Our roll call is at ten, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then should we sneak back down after it?”
“What?”
Caught off guard, Sihyeon asked back. The guy in front of him was the Class A representative—and here he was, suggesting breaking school rules.
Seeing Sihyeon hesitate, Seowoo smiled and pulled Geonwoo closer. A ridiculously handsome guy stood right next to another equally unreal-looking one.
“Geonwoo seems really disappointed.”
“……”
“And we didn’t get to see Pia much.”
“I’ll make sure we don’t get caught. Okay?”
His voice was softer than usual—persuasive enough that if you listened absentmindedly, you might nod without realizing it. Snapping out of it, Sihyeon looked at Geonwoo.
“There’s always tomorrow.”
“Yeah.”
“Then tomorrow—”
“Are you uncomfortable with me being here?”
“That’s not the issue.”
It’s because it’s against the rules.
The words rose to his throat, but Sihyeon couldn’t say them. Geonwoo’s blue eyes were fixed on him so intently it felt suffocating.
Those ocean-colored eyes made it hard to speak, as if he were drowning. Feeling like he might give in if he kept looking, Sihyeon turned away.
“Don’t just leave this to me—say something too. It’s not like I’m the only one sleeping here.”
“If we won’t get caught, just let them stay.”
“I like everyone being together!”
“…I mean… I don’t really mind…”
“……”
He had asked for help, but none of the responses were helpful. It wasn’t even his room alone—and by majority vote, approval had already won. He sighed.
“Is it okay for a class rep to act like this?”
“Even I can break the rules sometimes. Everyone else agrees—so how about it?”
Seowoo kept persuading him. With everyone in favor, there wasn’t much Sihyeon could do alone. He ruffled his hair.
“…If you get caught, you deal with it yourselves.”
“Thanks.”
Reluctantly giving permission, Seowoo smiled and led Geonwoo out.
And then—about ten minutes after roll call ended at ten—
The two quietly knocked on Sihyeon’s door. Haeun, who had been waiting, welcomed them in.
Room 207 temporarily became six people.
“You actually came.”
“Did you think we’d fake it?”
“Where are you even going to sleep?”
“The beds are big enough. What’s there to worry about? Right, Sihyeon?”
“You planning to let me sleep with you?”
Smiling sweetly, Seowoo spoke—and Sihyeon frowned and dragged him over to Hamin’s bed. It was less guiding and more forcing. Ignoring Hamin’s horrified reaction, Geonwoo climbed up to the top bunk where Haeun was.
“Pya-pya!”
With Pia chirping, the lights went out.
In a room now filled with six people, Haeun—like a fish in water—kept talking endlessly late into the night.
Eventually, he even started singing, prompting Hamin to shout at him to be quiet before throwing a pillow up to the top bunk.
When that escalated into a pillow fight, Sihyeon gave up on sleeping early.
