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Huan looked at him. "Sure... why not."

Grateful for the distraction, Akira hurried to grab the cookies and returned, offering the box to Huan.

After a few moments of quietly nibbling, Akira decided to break the silence. "So, um... am I allowed to ask you something?" he asked hesitantly, hoping that talking might cheer Huan up a little more.

Huan stared blankly at the cookie in his hand before glancing at Akira. "Depends on the question."

Akira took a breath. "Is Woliu a spiritual sword?"

Huan's eyes shifted to meet Akira's, a hint of hesitation in his expression. He put the cookie down. "I... think so."

"So you're not sure?" Akira blinked. "I mean, I felt an aura from it."

Huan stood up, walking over to his desk, and opened the case containing Woliu. Akira followed behind him, peeking at the sword. Its design was sleek and slim, its sheath a deep shade of blue. "It was originally supposed to be a robotic sword," Huan explained. "Marcus and I built it—gears, mechanical parts, all of it. It worked perfectly until I..." He bit his lips, "decided to infuse it with my qi."

Akira's eyes narrowed. "Wait, you infused it with qi? That was a bit reckless."

Huan shot him a sharp glare.

"Okay, okay, I'll shut up," Akira backtracked quickly, holding up his hands. "Go on."

"Anyway..." Huan continued, "ever since I did that, it started acting... strange." Just as he said that, Woliu emitted a small beep, drawing both of their attention.

Huan stared at it. "What...?"

The sword beeped again, a bit louder. Huan tilted his head in confusion. "You want me to call you 'they'?"

The sword beeped more insistently, almost as if frustrated. Akira stepped closer, curiosity piqued. "Try 'he'?"

"You prefer he/him?" Huan asked cautiously.

The sword let out an even louder beep, causing both Akira and Huan to cover their ears. "Okay, okay, stop!" Huan exclaimed, glaring at the sword.

Akira peeked out from behind his head. "You're a she/her!" he ventured.

Instantly, the loud noise stopped, replaced by a single, affirmative beep. The sword glowed with a soft green light, signaling its satisfaction.

Akira stood frozen behind Huan, eyeing the sword warily. Both of them stared at Woliu in bewilderment. Was that sword supposed to do that? Was it even possible for a sword to do that.

"Well, congratulations it's a girl," Akira muttered.

As if on point the sword glowed pink. Which made Akira smile but Huan frowned.

Trying to lighten the mood, Akira jokingly asked, "So, what's your favorite song, Woliu?"

To their astonishment, the sword responded by blasting Party in the USA by Miley Cyrus from its built-in speakers.

"Shut up!" Huan shouted, his eyes wide with disbelief.

The sword immediately went silent.

Akira blinked, processing what had just happened. "She is...actually alive."

Before he could react, Huan punched him using his elbow lightly in the stomach—though with a bit more force than necessary. "Why did you have to ask about my sword?" he scolded in a hushed voice.

Akira pouted, rubbing his abdomen. "I was trying to make you feel better."

They both turned back to Woliu, which, to their growing alarm, had started moving on its own again. The sword hovered in the air, tip down, hilt up, as if testing its own balance.

"Uh... is she supposed to do that?" Akira asked, backing away.

Huan stared at the floating sword, he was in utter disbelief. His voice shaking, "No..."

Akira shifted nervously behind Huan, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Is... is this some kind of AI?"

Huan shook his head, his gaze never leaving the sword. "No," he muttered. "Woliu?"

At the sound of her name, the sword instantly rotated to face them, letting out a soft, deliberate beep. Huan's jaw went slack.

Akira, though used to seeing spiritual swords, couldn't hide his amazement. Most spiritual swords were little more than tools, sentient but as lifeless as a houseplant, guided purely by the will of their masters. But Woliu... Woliu had a mind of her own. It was beyond incredible.

An idea popped into Akira's head, and he couldn't resist. "Stay With Me by Miki Matsubara!" he shouted.

Immediately, the sword complied, blasting the upbeat tune from its speakers. Akira giggled, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. "This is amazing."

Huan shot him a glare, his expression dark. He turned back to the sword, his patience wearing thin. "Enough. Quiet," he ordered, his tone firm.

The music cut off, leaving the room in silence once again. With a heavy sigh, Huan plopped down onto his bed, rubbing his temples. "Why..." he muttered to himself, his voice dripping with exhaustion. "First I nearly get gang raped, and now my sword has a mind of its own..." He let out a dark, humorless laugh, a twisted grin creeping across his face as he looked up at Akira. "Please tell me I'm hallucinating."

Akira sat down beside him, offering a small, sympathetic smile. "Unfortunately, you're not."

Huan groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Make it stop," he murmured, voice muffled.

As if in response, Woliu unsheathed herself, her blade gleaming as she glided gracefully through the air. She nudged Huan with her hilt, almost like a pet asking for attention. Huan looked up, his brow furrowing in confusion. The sword backed up slightly, and glowing lines appeared along the blade, crisscrossing like intricate circuits.

Akira leaned in, intrigued. "What's happening?"

Huan frowned, his eyes narrowing. "This sword... it's made of the same nanotech they used to recreate the Yin creatures during the examination...but more refined."

Before they could react, the sword's blade disintegrated into a swarm of particles, rearranging themselves mid-air to form a glowing message.

Akira tilted his head, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Voice box?" he asked, amused by how Woliu had gone from blasting a song by a centuries—old pop stars to politely requesting speech privileges.

"No," Huan muttered, shaking his head. "I don't think—"

Before he could finish, the particles shifted again, this time forming the word Please.

Huan raised an eyebrow. "No way."

In response, Woliu morphed back into her sword form and hovered closer, the light on her hilt blinking rapidly. She almost seemed... pleading, as if she was giving him the equivalent of puppy-dog eyes, begging for permission.

Akira pouted, crossing his arms. "Aww, you should give her a voice box."

Huan looked at him incredulously, wrinkling his nose. "Since when do you care about sentient swords?"

"Since right now," Akira replied with a giddy smile. Woliu floated over to him, nudging his arm with her hilt, as if trying to win him over. "Sorry, Woliu, but you're Huan's sword... and I prefer my katana," he said with a chuckle, gently pushing her back toward Huan.

The sword let out a soft, disappointed beep as she floated back to Huan, her glowing circuits dimming like a child sulking after being denied a treat.

Huan threw himself onto the bed, draping his arm over his face dramatically. "What the hell do I do with a sword that has a soul?!" he screamed into a pillow, his voice muffled but filled with frustration.

Akira watched with a bemused expression. "Well, you made her," he pointed out calmly, leaning back. "So, there must have been a reason for it... right?"

Woliu, unable to physically tilt her head, rotated her entire form sideways, as if mimicking curiosity. The sword hovered in place, its faint glow pulsing like a heartbeat, awaiting Huan's response.

Huan groaned, pulling the pillow away from his face and sitting up slightly. He stared at Woliu, deep in thought. The light from the circuits that crisscrossed her blade reflected in his eyes, casting strange patterns on his face as if he were in a trance.

Akira remained quiet, letting the moment hang in the air. It struck him just how surreal this morning had been. It wasn't exactly his preferred way to start the day but he had to admit, it was interesting. Horrifying at first, but interesting. From nearly saving Huan from a potentially terriable situation to now discovering that Huan's sword apparently had a consciousness and—judging by her behavior—a feminine one at that.

So yeah. Fun shit.

Huan exhaled loudly, breaking the silence. "I need to finish my project," he muttered, his voice a little distant as if trying to shake off the absurdity of the situation.

Akira blinked in surprise. "Eh?" He hesitated, watching Huan sit up. "Huan, you nearly got... hurt. You can't go outside now. That's insane."

"But there's work to be done." Huan replied, sitting up fully now. He gestured toward Woliu, who hovered closer, her circuits flickering to life once more. "And this gal wants a voice box!"

Akira's lips parted open slightly in disbelief, his brow furrowing as he stared at Huan. "No," he said firmly. "You haven't slept, and the Chen cousins might still be out there looking for you. Do you really think running back to your project is a good idea?"

Huan looked at him. "But—"

"But nothing," Akira cut him off, his tone unusually sharp. Narrowing his eyes. "You just escaped a possible kidnapping. Do you think they'll stop just because you slipped away once? And now you want to parade around with your glowing sword like nothing happened?"

Huan opened his mouth to argue but closed it just as quickly, the words dying on his lips. He glanced at Woliu, who beeped softly, almost sympathetically, as if she too were urging him to rest.

He sat there, his resolve wavering. He stared at the floor for a moment, then slowly met Akira's gaze. "I don't know what to do, Akira... I keep pushing forward like if I stay busy, nothing can touch me. But today—" His voice broke slightly, and he swallowed hard, trying to hold himself together. "I almost—"

Akira softened, he took a deep breath, his shoulder just brushing against Huan's. "You don't have to keep pretending like you're invincible. You were scared too, weren't you?"

Huan stayed quiet for a moment, his jaw tightening. "Yeah... I was scared," he finally said. "I've been scared for a long time, actually."

Akira nodded, not saying anything, just letting Huan have the space to express himself.

"Everything's just... piling up," Huan continued, his hands trembling slightly as he ran them through his hair. "It feels like no matter what I do, no matter how much I try to fight it, I'm stuck. Like I'm running in circles. And now my sword is... alive, and these people are hunting me... I don't even know who to trust anymore."

Akira bit his lip, he clearly didn't know what it was like to feel lost, like there was no way out. But hearing it from Huan—a person he admired so much—made his chest tighten. He wanted to say something comforting, but he wasn't sure how to begin. So instead, he reached out and placed his hand gently on Huan's arm.

"You don't have to go through this alone, Huan," Akira said softly, his voice steady but filled with sincerity. "You've got me. We can figure this out together."

Huan looked over at him, his eyes softening. "Why do you care so much?" he asked, his voice quiet but filled with curiosity.

Akira hesitated, his heart pounding a little harder. He could feel the vulnerability in the air between them, and he knew this was a moment where he could either shy away or step into the truth he had been avoiding. After all, how long could he keep pretending his feelings were purely friendly?

"Because you mean something to me," Akira finally admitted, his voice low but firm. "And I'm not going to let you deal with all of this by yourself. Not anymore."

Huan smiled, "Thanks for seeing me as a good friend."

Friend. Yes, that is exactly what Akira ment when he said that Huan meant something to him.

"Yeah...friend..."

I just got friendzoned...

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Akira: I can fix him

Xian: I can make him worse

Akira: Well, I can make him pregnant