Adrian stood with his hands on his hips, scrutinizing the placement of the couch as if it were a matter of utmost importance.
“Hmm. A little more to the left.”
Akio and Gabriel, each holding one end of the couch, dutifully shuffled a few steps sideways. Their faces were stone flat, their movements too smooth and too effortless for the job to look remotely difficult.
“No no, too much,” Adrian declared, waving them back.
Deadpan. Both of them. Not a struggle in sight as they moved the couch exactly where it started.
Adrian beamed. “Actually, you know what? It was good where it was before. Go back.”
Gabriel shot him a sideways look, smirking. “You act like you’re the one living here.”
Akio’s tone was a perfect blend of dry and done. “What are we? Glorified couch movers?”
Without missing a beat, Adrian plopped himself onto the couch while they were still holding it. One leg crossed, posture royal. “What do you mean? This is top secret vigilante training. Builds muscle. Enhances combat readiness. Very important.”
Akio and Gabriel exchanged one glance. A dangerous one.
Before Adrian could blink, the couch tilted. His dramatic yelp echoed off the walls as he toppled onto the floor in a heap. The couch hit the ground with a soft thud—upright, perfectly placed.
Gabriel was already armed with a pillow, raising it like a revolutionary banner.
“VIVA LA REVOLUTION!”
Adrian, recovering with the reflexes of a seasoned clown, grabbed another pillow and gasped like a betrayed monarch.
“Et tu, Gabriel!? Struck down by my own brother!”
The pillow fight erupted instantly—Gabriel cackling as he landed strike after strike, Adrian countering with theatrical flair. Feathers started to escape the seams. Akio perched casually on top of the couch, occasionally flipping a pillow down with surgical precision to assist Gabriel.
Akiren exhaled through his nose, setting the folded shirts aside. Gentle exasperation washed over him, warm and familiar. He shook his head, unable to hide the small smile tugging at his lips.
It had always been like this.
His gaze drifted, memories rising.
He recalled the first time he ever saw Adrian—back in high school. Not a real meeting. More like… orbiting the same spaces. Adrian had always been noticeable. Loud laughter in the hallways, people flocking to him like he carried his own gravity. Charismatic, confident, a prince-like flirt who somehow managed to hide razor sharp intelligence beneath all that charm. It was impossible not to know his name.
Akiren, on the other hand, had always preferred quiet corners and shadows. Social settings exhausted him; unwanted attention made his skin prickle. The irony was cruel—he had been born with features people loved to look at. Pretty, striking, memorable. Exactly what he wished he wasn’t. The unwanted stares followed him everywhere until he found his own solution: a mask.
It wasn’t meant to be dramatic. It was simply a comfort. A shield. With it, people’s gazes softened. They looked away faster. He could breathe. Adrian, by contrast, seemed to thrive under every spotlight Akiren tried to avoid. Their worlds ran parallel. Close, but never touching.
That all changed when Akio started second grade.
Akiren had been waiting outside Akio’s homeroom, leaning against the wall with his hands tucked into his sleeves, when he heard a familiar voice. He looked up—and nearly forgot how breathing worked.
Adrian was walking straight toward him, moving with the careless confidence of someone who had never once questioned his place in the world. He stopped beside him, leaning one shoulder against the wall like the hallway had been constructed for the sole purpose of making him look good. A charming smile curved across his face.
“Hey,” Adrian greeted lightly. “I’ve seen you around before, but I’ve never caught your name.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Akiren adjusted his mask on instinct, trying to disguise the sudden spike in his heartbeat. His voice came out steadier than he felt, but the slight waver was impossible to hide.
“Oh… I’m Akiren. And you’re—”
Adrian’s grin widened. He gave an easy wink that absolutely did not help. “Adrian Veyloria. Nice to meet you. Mind if I call you Ren?”
Akiren blinked. The nickname slipped from Adrian’s mouth with the kind of effortless familiarity Akiren had never experienced before. It flustered him more than he wanted to admit. He reached up, letting a few strands of his long hair fall forward to hide the warmth creeping up his cheeks.
“Yeah,” he murmured, nodding. “I don’t mind.”
“Great,” Adrian replied, settling comfortably beside him as if they’d always stood like this. “So—got a younger sibling? That why you’re here?”
Akiren nodded. “My little brother. His name’s Akio.” He tilted his head slightly. “What about you? Do you have younger siblings?”
Adrian’s smile softened into something fond. “Yeah. I’ve got four. I’m here to pick up the youngest—Gabriel.”
Akiren opened his mouth to respond, but the hallway doors burst open before he could.
A flood of tiny second graders spilled out, backpacks bouncing, voices overlapping in chaotic joy as they searched for their guardians. Akiren scanned the crowd until he spotted a familiar small figure weaving through the sea of children. Akio walked alongside another boy who looked unmistakably related to Adrian.
The moment Akio saw Akiren, his whole face lit up. He ran toward him and grabbed his hand with the unfiltered affection only children possessed.
The other boy hurried to Adrian’s side, taking his hand before turning back to Akio. “Buh-bye! See you tomorrow, Akio!”
“Bye Gabriel! See you tomorrow!” Akio chirped, waving enthusiastically.
Akiren looked down at Akio, then at Gabriel holding Adrian’s hand, the pieces slotting together instantly. He lifted his gaze to Adrian, who was already raising an eyebrow in amused recognition.
“Well,” Adrian said, lips lifting into a crooked smile, “what do you know? Looks like our little brothers are friends.”
From that day on, everything shifted in small, quiet ways.
Every afternoon, Akiren found himself encountering Adrian again—sometimes exchanging a nod, sometimes a few words, sometimes entire conversations that stretched pleasantly through dismissal. It became a quiet ritual, a moment he found himself looking forward to without meaning to. They got to know each other piece by piece—side by side in the school hallway, waiting for the same two boys who always emerged laughing together.
But one afternoon, their quiet pickup routine shattered.
Akiren had been waiting beside Adrian as usual when the homeroom teacher appeared, expression tight and stern.
“You two are Akio and Gabriel’s brothers, correct? Could you both step inside?”
Akiren’s pulse jumped. He followed Adrian in, unsure what to expect.
Akio and Gabriel sat on two little chairs, feet barely touching the floor, both wearing the unmistakable expression of small children who had definitely done something wrong. Their hands were folded in their laps. Their shoulders tense. Their guilt so palpable it practically fogged the air.
“We need to discuss an… incident,” the teacher said. “It appears they got into a fight with a group of students.”
Akiren nearly tripped over his own breath.
A fight?
His heartbeat spiked. Akio wasn’t the type to get into fights. He was gentle. Polite. Quiet. The kind of kid who apologized when someone else bumped into him. Akiren’s mind scrambled for words—and found none.
Before he could speak, Adrian stepped forward. His posture shifted—shoulders squared, expression sharpening with a seriousness Akiren had never seen on him.
“I’ll handle this,” Adrian said calmly.
Akiren blinked, startled. He watched as Adrian crouched down to eye level with the boys, all traces of theatrics gone.
“I’m going to ask you two something important,” he said, voice low and steady. “Answer honestly.”
Akio and Gabriel exchanged a nervous glance, then nodded.
Adrian held their gazes, stern and unblinking.
“Did you win?”
A beat.
Akio and Gabriel shared another look—then Gabriel answered, small but confident, “Yes.”
Adrian lit up like a festival lantern. “THAT’S MY BOYS!!”
Akiren made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a horrified whisper. “Adrian, NO—”
But Adrian was already ruffling both their heads like a proud father, grinning ear to ear. “Alright, give me the details. Everything.”
The boys perked up instantly, guilt evaporating.
“There were these fifth graders,” Gabriel began, swinging his legs. “Like nine of them. They kept bullying some of our friends even when we told them to stop.”
Akio nodded firmly. “So we set up traps in the hallway and ambushed the survivors.”
Akiren stared. Survivors???
Adrian, meanwhile, was glowing. “Guerrilla warfare at this age? That’s generational talent.”
Akiren sputtered. “I—I don’t think we’re supposed to be congratulating them—”
The teacher cleared her throat sharply. “This is a very serious problem.”
Adrian stood, straightening, voice turning cool and pointed.
“The real problem,” he said evenly, “is why a group of fifth graders were picking fights with second graders in the first place. These two defended themselves and protected their classmates. Any other second grader could have been seriously hurt. Those kids should be the ones facing disciplinary action.”
The teacher’s lips pressed together—but she did not argue.
Akiren felt the tension drain from his chest. He looked at Adrian, quietly stunned. Eloquence wasn’t new for him—but seeing him channel it like this, calm and firm and protective, was something else entirely. His gaze drifted down to Akio and Gabriel who were unhurt, and relief swept through him like a warm wave.
Back in the present, Akiren blinked himself out of the memory, a soft laugh slipping free at the absurdity of it even years later. He glanced toward the living room. Adrian was slumped against the couch in defeat, waving a feather like a white flag. Gabriel stood triumphant atop the cushions like a conquering hero. And Akio was brushing feathers off his hands with the same calm satisfaction he wore after winning exams.
Akiren exhaled, long and fond.
He moved over to help clean up the battlefield of feathers—because someone had to be the responsible adult. Watching them now, he thought about how little had changed. Adrian was still the chaos enabling ringleader. Gabriel and Akio still managed to pick fights and win them. And those same two children were now two of the most notorious vigilantes in the nation.
Akiren shook his head, warmth tugging at his chest.
Some things never change.
─ ? NEXT CHAPTER POV ? ─
Akio
Jane never planned on being an apocalyptic babysitter.
But more than half the world’s population disappears in the blink of an eye and magic starts surging, leaving her with a game system in her head and a nine-year-old kid in her party. Soon Jane’s days are filled with fighting mutated Earth animals, arguing with a stubborn system, and keeping the kid alive. But with it comes a peaceful sense of purpose that Jane has never experienced before… assuming they can survive the end of the world.
What to Expect:
- Lite LitRPG with a system that likes words more than numbers
- A found family dynamic that grows slowly but consistently
- Character development-driven story
- A little action/adventure at first but evolves into mostly cozy/slice of life
- Short, bite-sized chapters (1.5-2k words) getting posted daily for Writathon!