The Ger Is A Part Timer [BL]

~ 44 ~

Unsure of what to say, Yu Yan opened and closed his mouth. Finally finding his voice, he starts, "G-Gazef—"

Click.

An empty hallway.

Yu Yan swallowed his words. The other person just went directly into his room without even the slightest acknowledgement of his existence. He didn't know whether to feel relieved or frustrated.

Was he actually made up of air?

"...told you to flip it over when it's golden, not dark brown —"

Sylven paused at seeing the person standing in their entrance hallway.

"Yu Yan!"

"What, Yu Yan's back?!"

"Fernis, why didn't you tell me Yu Yan was coming back today!"

"Didn't ask."

Yu Yan pulled himself and smiled. Indeed, it was good to be back, and yet there was a small indescribable feeling that something fundamental was missing.

—

Life became a precise, automated sequence, as each day bled into the next.

Everything folded into a single, repetitive loop, governed by the Academy's chime: a rhythm that began with the harsh cadence of boot camp drills and ended with the soft, analytical hum of medical schematics — a demanding duality that defined Yu Yan's current existence.

At first, Yu Yan thought that he had already found his rhythm back after getting 'sick'.

That morning, Yu Yan arrived at the training grounds, the grit of the impact surface already digging into his boots. He then found the team lineup incomplete.

"Azef already went ahead," Chen WangZhi muttered, his voice flat as he laced his reinforced gloves. "Something about extra solo conditioning. I don't know what excuse he gave to the instructor and how he got their permission, but he was allowed to temporarily join a different group for drills so he could finish earlier."

"..."

So it was just the three of them—Yu Yan, Chen WangZhi, and Fernis—for the morning's basic combat drills. Sylven, as always, was likely appreciating his right to stay wrapped in bed, avoiding the physical rigor required only of the combat-track students.

After the drills, Yu Yan scrubbed the grime from his hands and hurried to his medicine course class. He sank into his seat just as the projected lesson began to glow. His stomach, always ravenous after combat training, was a loud, empty cavern — almost as if conditioned to expect food at this time of day.

He turned to the desk next to him and reached out a hand.

"What food do you—" Yu Yan cut himself short.

The chair was empty. Gazef wasn't there.

"..."

He drew his hand back slowly, the muscle memory of reaching for Gazef's always-prepared ready-to-go breakfast was not to be seen. He frowned, enduring the feeling of hunger as he took a sip of water and he attempted to focus back to his lesson. Gazef must be busy on some special assignments, he reasoned. This wasn't odd.

Later, during their Practicals class, the instructor's voice chimed through the simulation room speakers. Unlike the virtual pod, it was a room that holographically changed itself and its six walls to immerse the trainee in pre-recorded simulations or scenarios from the combat department's database. Spectators could line up on one side to watch the trainee inside.

"Pair assignments for real-time terrain navigation: Cadet Yu Yan and Cadet..." There was a noticeable, agonizing half-second pause in the instructor's delivery. "...Cadet Fernys will substitute for Cadet Azef in this rotation."