The door slammed open, nearly bouncing off the wall.
Ethan barely had time to blink before two figures stood in the doorway, both frozen mid-step, their eyes scanning the chaos like they'd just walked into a battlefield.
One of them—a short, scruffy-haired guy with wild eyes—was already turning red in the face. The other, taller and more composed, let out a slow exhale, as if trying to physically push down the rage bubbling up.
Ethan's stomach dropped.
He knew those faces.
Even before they opened their mouths, he recognized them from his book. Not just side characters. Not throwaway names.
No—these were two of the most important supporting cast members.
The short one with the short temper and sharp tongue—Kai, the flame-brained hothead with a heart he'd buried under ten layers of sarcasm and aggression. And the taller one—Aiden, the more reserved and rational one, always calm, always thinking five steps ahead. The glue that held the chaos together.
He hadn't known they'd be his roommates. Not until now.
Of course they are, Ethan thought grimly. Because why not make my life even harder?
"What the hell is this?" Kai shouted, his arms thrown up. "Did a storm demon break in and redecorate?! What the actual—DARIUS!"
Ethan winced. There it was. That name.
Aiden stepped inside, eyeing the scattered books, the papers everywhere, the disheveled bedsheets hanging from the ceiling like they'd been part of a low-budget stage play.
"We were gone for an hour," he said flatly. "Just one hour."
"I was... practicing," Ethan said, his voice barely audible.
Kai's head jerked toward him like he'd just said the dumbest thing in history. "Practicing?! What—trying to become the Avatar of Bad Decisions?"
"I didn't mean to... it just kind of exploded."
"Oh, great. It just exploded. That clears everything up." Kai marched forward, gesturing to the mess like he was giving a dramatic tour. "So this was all just a magical accident? You summoned a tornado? For fun?"
Aiden was silent, but his arms were crossed now, and his eyes didn't leave Ethan. Not angry—just disappointed. Which was somehow worse.
Ethan's throat was dry. He'd expected them to be annoyed, sure. But somehow it felt even worse than if they'd tried to punch him.
He looked between the two of them, then bowed his head slightly.
"I'm sorry," he said, swallowing hard. "I wasn't thinking. I just... I was trying to figure something out. I didn't mean to screw up the room."
There was a pause. A long one.
Kai blinked. His mouth opened, then closed again.
Aiden tilted his head slightly, brow furrowed like he'd misheard.
Ethan looked up. "I'm serious. I get it—I messed up. It won't happen again."
Another beat of silence.
Then Kai muttered, "Did... did you hit your head during the storm?"
Ethan blinked.
"Did he just apologize?" Kai said louder now, turning to Aiden. "Darius Wycliffe. Mister Silver Spoon Arrogance himself. Just apologized. Out loud."
Aiden shrugged. "Maybe the wind knocked some sense into him."
Kai rubbed the back of his neck, visibly unsure how to react. "Well damn. Maybe we were too harsh." He shot Ethan a side-eye. "You're not dying or anything, are you?"
"No," Ethan said, stifling a groan. "Just tired. And I learned something new today, that's all."
And almost died, he didn't add.
Then—just as he finished speaking—a small chime echoed in his mind, followed by the flicker of blue light in the corner of his vision.
[Skill Learned: Gale Rend (Basic)]
A foundational spell that allows the user to manifest and control air currents through a compressed sphere of wind. Mastery of this spell improves control, range, and sustained use.
The moment Ethan saw the notification, a grin tugged at his lips. It was official. The spell was now registered in his system.
"Of course," Kai muttered, looking at the swirling mess around the room again. "Guess the great and mighty Wycliffe did learn something."
Aiden stepped toward the desk, where Ethan's exploded papers were scattered. He raised his hand, murmured a word under his breath, and the papers began to float, aligning into a neat pile mid-air before dropping gently onto the surface.
Ethan blinked. "Wait, what kind of magic was that?"
"Levitation," Aiden said casually. "You know. For people who don't want to clean like peasants."
Kai snorted. "More like 'for people who want to undo Darius's disasters without breaking their backs.'"
Aiden ignored him and continued casting, lifting scattered books and slowly organizing them back onto the shelves.
Ethan stared. "Is that... is that non-elemental magic?"
"Technically," Aiden said, now tidying the sheets with a flick of his fingers. "It falls under utility-based magic. Stuff that doesn't explode or catch things on fire. Novel concept, huh?"
Kai waved a hand, casting a simple pulse of light from his palm that caused dust and debris to rise off the floor and sweep into a tight pile.
"Basic levitation, object manipulation, kinetic sorting... There's a whole class of this stuff," he added. "Useful for everyday life. Not just your dramatic spell-slinging death beams."
Ethan flushed slightly. He hadn't even considered using these sorts of spells in his writing except in the background. He'd always focused on the flashy, combat-heavy systems. The explosions. The duels. The destruction.
But this—this was practical. Efficient. And honestly... really cool.
He looked around as the room slowly restored itself under their casual, practiced spells. "You guys do this... often?"
Kai rolled his eyes. "Only every time you leave a mess. So, like, daily."
Aiden glanced back at him. "Not gonna lie, this is the first time you've actually felt like a roommate instead of a walking hazard."
Ethan scratched the back of his head. "Yeah. Fair."
There was another long beat of silence. The room was almost clean now, and the tension had simmered to something less sharp.
Kai finally broke it. "Just... next time, warn us before you try to conjure a tornado in our shared space, alright?"
"I'll make sure to go outside," Ethan said.
"Good," Aiden said. "You're improving. I'd hate to lose you now."
It took Ethan a second to realize that might've been a compliment. Maybe. Sort of.
And despite the mess, the yelling, and the mortifying embarrassment, something unexpected settled in his chest.
A flicker of... camaraderie.
Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.