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Not immediately. Not obviously. But to someone like Riku Aoyama—who had grown accustomed to quietly watching the world behind a mask of calm intelligence—something in the air hummed wrong.
A low pressure.
A breath held too long.
A silence too perfect.
Still, classes continued normally—lecture on political mana theory, a practical on flame containment barriers, even a lunch break with Ayumi where she tried (and failed) to convince him to try spicy soba noodles ...
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