They Called Me Trash? Now I'll Hack Their World Chapter 86: The Box

Days passed in a blur.

The sun hung low on the horizon now, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose.

Evening breeze drifted through the Academy gardens, carrying the scent of late-blooming flowers, jasmine and honeysuckle mixing with sothing sweeter.

Leaves fluttered on nearby trees, their rustling a gentle counterpoint to the distant sounds of students finishing their day.

I sat on a stone bench overlooking the eastern gardens, bandages still wrapped around my ribs and left arm, feeling the cool air against my face.

And beside —

Snore!

A head leaned against my shoulder, brown hair tickling my neck slightly.

Emma’s breathing was slow and even, her weight warm against my side.

I sighed, leaning back carefully so as not to disturb her, and watched the sun dip lower.

When did this happen?

---

Few hours ago...

I’d been lying in bed staring at the ceiling and trying not to go insane from boredom.

The healers had cleared for light activity, but "light activity" apparently ant "sitting up without supervision" and "walking to the bathroom unassisted."

Not exactly thrilling.

Then door had burst open without warning.

Emma stood in the doorway, hands on her hips, expression determined. Kyle lood behind her, grinning like he was in on whatever plan she’d concocted.

"That’s it," Emma declared. "You’re getting out of this room. Now."

I blinked. "The healers—"

"The healers said you need rest and fresh air. You’ve had plenty of rest. Now you’re getting fresh air." She marched over and grabbed my arm. "Co on. Up."

"Emma—"

"Don’t ’Emma’ . You’ve been lying in this bed for days eating nothing but bland porridge and sleeping. It’s depressing. You need sunlight and real air."

Kyle moved to my other side, still grinning. "She’s not taking no for an answer, man. Trust ."

"Up. Now." Emma’s grip tightened. "Or I’ll get Sira to carry you."

The threat of being carried through the Academy by Sira was enough motivation.

I let them help stand, my legs wobbling slightly from disuse.

They’d half-carried, half-guided through the hallways, out into the gardens, and deposited on this bench with the kind of satisfaction that suggested they’d been planning this intervention for days.

We’d sat together—the three of us—watching the afternoon fade toward evening.

Kyle and Emma talked about classes, gossip I’d missed during my recovery. I mostly listened, content to just be outside, feeling sunlight on my face instead of the pale glow of healing crystals.

Then Kyle had stood abruptly, stretching. "Alright, I gotta head to the training halls. Promised Tobias I’d help him with his footwork." He’d grinned at . "Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone. Like dying. Emma would kill ."

"I’ll try."

He’d jogged off, leaving just Emma and on the bench.

We’d kept talking for a while, lighter topics, nothing serious. Her research on magical theory. My plans once I was fully recovered. The celebration Kyle kept insisting we needed to have.

Then, mid-sentence, she’d yawned. Blinked heavily. And gradually, almost imperceptibly, her head had drifted sideways until it ca to rest against my shoulder.

Within minutes, she was asleep.

And I’d just... stayed there. Let her sleep. Watched the sunset.

---

{Present...}

Emma stirred against my shoulder, her breathing changing rhythm. A small sound escaped her lips.

Then her eyes opened slowly, blinking against the evening light.

For a mont, she just stared at the gardens, still half-asleep.

Then she seed to register her position, head on my shoulder, body leaning against mine, and heat flooded her cheeks.

She shifted her head slightly, tilting to look up at .

Our eyes t.

"Evening," I said.

She yelped and jerked upright so fast she nearly fell off the bench. Her hands flew up in a flailing, defensive gesture.

"I didn’t... I wasn’t... I didn’t an to fall asleep on you! I just, it was comfortable and warm and—"

I waved my hand dismissively, rolling my shoulder where her weight had been resting. "It’s fine. No problem."

She stared at , her face still flushed, looking adorably flustered.

Then she smiled sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I’m sorry. That was... How silly of . I brought you out here to get fresh air and have a proper conversation, and instead I just fell asleep."

I crossed my arms behind my head, leaning back against the bench. "It’s okay. You relaxed. Which I could tell you haven’t been doing much of lately."

Her smile faltered slightly. She looked away, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress.

"I’ve had... things. To worry about..." She trailed off, still avoiding eye contact.

I shrugged. "Whatever. Not my problem."

Thay made her head snapped toward , and she smacked my arm.

"Ow—what was that for?" I rubbed my arm, glaring at her.

She huffed, puffing her cheeks out.

"For being rude! I’m trying to have a genuine conversation and you’re just," She gestured vaguely at . "’Not my problem.’ Honestly."

"You hit for just saying obvious, and I’m the problem?"

"Yes!"

We stared at each other for a mont.

Then I sighed.

"Fine. What’s been keeping you busy?"

She fidgeted with her fingers. "Well... they’re not so serious, stuff I am busy with, you don’t need to worry about that..."

My head snapped towards her, eyes locked, glaring.

Seriously?

She looked away, coughing. "Just... a lot of things. Plus regular classwork."

Then, her expression softened. "Plus I’ve been checking on you every day—"

"You don’t need to do that."

"I know. I wanted to." She looked down at her hands.

"I’m okay now," I said quietly.

"I know. But I still worry." She smiled slightly. "Soone has to. You’re certainly not going to worry about yourself."

"I worry about myself."

"No, you don’t." She stretched her arms above her head, yawning again. "But we can argue about your self-destructive tendencies another ti."

She stood, smoothing her dress with both hands, then offered her hand. "Co on. Let’s go inside. It’s getting dark, and I don’t want you catching a cold after all the effort the healers put into not letting you die."

I took her hand, letting her help pull upright.

We started walking back toward the infirmary building, our footsteps quiet on the garden path.

And I noticed after a few seconds that Emma hadn’t let go of my hand.

Her grip was firm, warm, her fingers laced with mine like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Should I say sothing? Point it out?

I glanced at her. She was looking straight ahead, her expression peaceful, apparently not noticing or not caring that we were still holding hands.

Whatever. Not worth making it weird.

We walked in comfortable silence, the evening breeze cooling as the sun finally dipped below the horizon. Lamps began lighting along the pathways, enchanted flas flickering to life automatically.

We reached the infirmary building, climbed the stairs, and walked down the hallway to my room.

I stopped at the door.

Emma tilted her head, looking at curiously. "What?"

I gestured downward with my free hand, indicating our still-joined hands.

She followed my gesture, her eyes landing on where our fingers were intertwined.

Her eyes widened. Her face flushed bright red.

"Oh! I—" She imdiately released my hand, stepping back quickly. "I didn’t.... I wasn’t, okay, so you can go now, good night, sleep well."

She turned and fled down the hallway before I could say anything, her footsteps echoing rapidly away.

I stood there for a mont, staring after her.

Then I sighed and pushed open the door to my room.

"Oh, so you ca back."

I looked up.

Aria stood beside my bed, smoothing the freshly changed sheets with practiced efficiency. She glanced at , her expression professional but with a hint of warmth.

"Didn’t think the gardens would release you before nightfall," she added, tucking in the corners. "The Head Healer was worried you’d overexert yourself."

"I was sitting on a bench."

"You were outside after spending days confined to bed. That counts as exertion." She finished with the sheets and straightened. "How do you feel?"

"Better."

"Good." She moved to the small table beside my bed and picked up sothing, a wooden box, about the size of a thick book, wrapped with twine. "Soone brought this for you earlier. One of the administrative staff dropped it off."

I raised an eyebrow, approaching cautiously. "Who?"

"Didn’t say. Just asked to make sure you received it." She held it out.

I took the box carefully. It was heavier than expected, the wood smooth and well-crafted. A small envelope was tucked under the twine on top.

What the hell?

I pulled the envelope free and opened it. Inside was a single card with neat, elegant handwriting:

Jin Raith,

You ca back alive. I’m impressed.

It seems the rumors of the Raith family’s embarrassnt weren’t entirely accurate after all.

Consider this a token of acknowledgnt from soone who appreciates competence...

I stared at the card, rereading it twice to make sure I understood correctly.

Who the hell is this?