Presentation Day

I was having the best time of my life.

Not because of the presentations or because the students were being grilled by Miss Belle’s questions but because Silvano—the composed, untouchable, "I-have-my-life-together" Silvano—was currently unraveling beside me like a very expensive piece of fabric under stress.

He was sitting stiffly, fingers tapping against his knee, eyes locked on the front.

I leaned closer, smiling. "Sylvie, relax—"

"Don’t call me that," he snapped immediately, not even looking at me.

I rolled my eyes. "Relax, okay? I’ll be the one explaining. But just in case—you did review everything I told you, right? The whole explanation? The structure? The logic?"

"Of course," he said, like I had insulted his entire lineage.

"Then why are you nervous?" I tilted my head. "You’re literally part of the Student Council. You present in front of people all the time. This should be easy peasy—?"

I paused, waiting for him to continue.

He stared at me but I stared back, widening my eyes.

"...Lemon squeezy," he muttered after a second, like the words physically hurt him.

I smiled, satisfied. "There you go."

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "It’s just... this is different."

"How?"

He hesitated then glanced at our piece. "...It doesn’t feel like something I made."

I followed his gaze.

Even with all its flaws—my standards, not theirs—I already knew how this would land. To everyone else, this was going to look like genius.

To me?

It was a miracle it survived because the moment I looked at it, flashbacks immediately assaulted me.

Silvano holding the chisel like he was about to declare war.

Me screaming internally.

Silvano almost slicing the wrong section.

Me screaming externally.

Silvano setting the energy flow wrong.

Me physically grabbing his hand mid-carve like I was saving a falling vase. "NOT THERE—DO YOU WANT US TO EXPLODE?!"

Silvano nearly fainting when the stone flickered too brightly.

Me supervising like a tired disaster manager.

Moments where I nearly considered faking my own disappearance.

His offended face.

My fainting multiple times.

Our near project’s death experience.

I blinked.

Yeah we’ve been through a lot so if we ever had group project again, I would simply split myself into two people so I could avoid collaboration entirely.

And yet I had to admit it.

It was extremely fun in a controlled chaos way.

I smiled slightly. "Of course you didn’t make it—"

His shoulders dropped a little, looking like I had just stabbed him emotionally.

"—because we made it together," I finished quickly before he could spiral into existential despair in front of me.

He paused, suddenly recovering.

"So if you need help," I added more casually, "just look for me and I’ll guide you."

He stared at me like I had just said something profound while I was mostly trying to prevent public crying.

Before he could say anything, Miss Belle’s voice echoed across the room.

"Next group!"

I stood up, rolling my shoulders and cracking my neck like I was about to enter a battlefield instead of a presentation. "Let’s show them our work."

Silvano carried the sculpture carefully towards the front, holding it with the expression of a man transporting a live explosive

He placed it gently on the presentation table before taking a breath.

"Presenting..." he said, gripping the cloth dramatically.

Fling.

"Our piece."

The cloth fell away as a collective hush swept through the room.

Even I had to admit—it looked insane.

The sculpture towered elegantly under the lights. A spiraling structure curved upward like an endless current, while at its base, a phoenix emerged from carved ashes.

Its wings partially spread as if caught between destruction and rebirth. The further upward the spiral traveled, the more refined and radiant the phoenix became, until the top formed another abstract beginning, implying the cycle would continue forever.

"We call this piece..." I began, smiling slightly, "The Phoenix’s Spiral."

For a few seconds, no one spoke.

Miss Belle tilted her head slightly. "A phoenix? But the theme was Eternal Cycle of Nature."

"The first thing people imagine when they hear ’nature’ is usually trees," I explained casually. "Or forests. Or flowers. Something that is green and alive."

A few students shifted awkwardly.

’Oops.’

"But we chose a phoenix because it symbolizes rebirth. It rises from its ashes after death, representing renewal and new beginnings."

I pointed towards the spiral structure wrapping around the sculpture.

"The spiral itself is a universal symbol of growth and repetition. Nature doesn’t move in straight lines. Seasons repeat. Life decays and feeds new life. Energy changes form constantly. Nothing truly ends, it simply transforms into something else."

Silvano picked up immediately after me, voice steadier now.

"The sculpture was designed so the phoenix never truly ’ends.’ The top reconnects visually to the base, creating a perpetual cycle."

Miss Belle slowly nodded, clearly impressed then narrowed her eyes slightly at the sculpture itself. "...What material did you use?"

"It’s obvious at first glance but for confirmation, we used energy stones," Silvano answered calmly.

The room exploded.

"WHAT?!"

"Energy stones?!"

"They carved that using energy stones?!"

"They’re insane!"

"How are they alive?!"

"That explains the smoke coming out of the dorm just a few days ago!"

"I thought someone was dying!"

"Wait... were you two the reason the emergency alarm almost activated?!"

I coughed lightly. "...Minor accident."

"MINOR?!" someone shouted from the back.

"We almost evacuated the whole floor!"

Silvano immediately pointed at me. "That was her fault."

"If only someone tried to listen!" I hissed at him.

Miss Belle, however, wasn’t even listening to us anymore.

She was completely focused on the sculpture now, carefully examining the details carved into the spiral.

The colored stones embedded throughout the spiral glowed faintly under the lighting—reds, oranges, golds, and yellows layered together to mimic living fire.

Her fingers hovered just above the glowing energy veins embedded within the piece.

"I only gave you one week," she said slowly. "And you created this?"

"With perseverance," I said solemnly.

"And determination," Silvano added immediately.

We both lied with terrifying confidence.

Miss Belle circled the sculpture carefully. "Then explain this to me. Energy stones are unstable enough on their own. How did you carve multiple stones and fuse them into one cohesive piece without destabilizing the energy flow?"

I smiled slowly. "With suffering."

"...What?" Miss Belle blinked.

"He almost gave me emotional damage every single day," I continued seriously.

"I did not—"

"And every time the stones almost exploded, we simply chose not to explode with them."

"That’s not an explanation," Silvano said weakly.

"It’s survival instinct," I corrected.

The class burst into laughter.

"Blanca Frostine," Miss Belle said again, this time in a much stricter voice.

I immediately straightened my posture. "Yes, Miss."

"For once in your life," she said slowly, pinching the bridge of her nose, "answer like a proper student."

The class laughed harder.

"Fine," I muttered before gesturing toward the phoenix’s wings. "Energy stones reject improper flow alignment," I explained, slipping back into seriousness. "If we carved them traditionally, the resonance would destabilize and fracture the structure."

Miss Belle nodded slowly, listening intently.

"So instead of forcing the stones together, we synchronized their flow frequencies first," I continued. "The carving channels inside the sculpture redirect excess energy into the spiral pattern itself."

Silvano stepped in next, finally sounding more confident.

"The spiral isn’t just for aesthetic," he explained. "It’s functioning as an energy circulation path. Without it, the stones would eventually overload each other."

Miss Belle’s expression finally shifted from teacher regretting her career to genuine focus.

"And the colors?" she asked.

"We heated each stone at different temperatures before fusion," Silvano answered this time. "That altered the internal glow and resonance."

Someone in the back looked horrified. "You heated energy stones?!"

"Only a little," I answered.

Silvano immediately cut in. "Do not listen to her. There was an explosion."

"It was a small explosion."

"The ceiling caught fire."

"Temporarily."

"You screamed."

"I screamed in excitement."

Miss Belle closed her eyes for a second.

I think she was praying.

Meanwhile, the students looked torn between admiration and fear.

"...That’s terrifying," someone whispered.

"Who thinks of that for a school project?"

"They’re insane."

I smiled proudly. "Thank you."

Miss Belle finally stepped back from the sculpture, still staring at it with disbelief.

"...Despite your questionable methods," she admitted slowly, "this is one of the most ambitious pieces I’ve seen from students."

I grinned immediately.

Silvano, however, looked exhausted instead of proud.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

7:35 P.M.

I was peacefully inside my room, surrounded by scattered carving tools and glowing energy stones, minding my own business and carving commissions like the hardworking citizen I was—

When my OmniSync suddenly exploded with notifications.

Ping!

Ping!

Ping ping ping ping—

I nearly stabbed the wrong part of the stone.

"What now?" I muttered, setting my carving tool down before checking the screen.

I saw an absurd amount of messages from students.

[Can you teach me how to carve?]

[You’re Blanca Frostine right? Are you willing to carve on my behalf?]

[Please teach me. I’ll pay per session. Name your price.]

[Your piece earlier was amazing! Do you sell your works?]

[Is The Phoenix’s Spiral for sale?]

[I’ll buy it for 80,000 IC.]

[100,000 IC.]

[Name your price.]

My eyes widened slightly.

...Oh.

Ohhhhh.

I leaned back slowly in my chair.

"They’re rich rich," I whispered.

More messages flooded in.

[Can you make custom sculptures?]

[Can I commission you for a graduation gift?]

[How much for private tutoring?]

[Please reply.]

[PLEASE.]

I stared at the screen silently then looked at the unfinished energy stones around my room.

My business instincts began awakening like an ancient evil.

"Hehehe..."

I quickly slapped both my cheeks.

"No," I muttered to myself. "Focus. Priorities. Dignity."

...Five seconds later I was focus tapping on my calculator.

The Phoenix’s Spiral alone could probably sell for enough money to let me sleep peacefully for months.

Unfortunately, I already gave it to Silvano.

I sighed dramatically, leaning against my chair.

"It’s a shame," I muttered. "But he deserved it."

Even if—

I only realized now just how unbelievably hard-headed he was.

Flashbacks immediately assaulted me again.

"Don’t touch that stone!"

"I know what I’m doing."

"You literally don’t!"

"Trust me."

"THAT’S EXACTLY WHY I DON’T!"

I snorted to myself.

Honestly, working with him felt less like a project and more like babysitting someone holding explosives.

Ping!

Another message appeared.

[I heard Silvano Orientaly owns The Phoenix’s Spiral now. Is that true?]

I blinked.

’...How fast does information spread in this academy?!’

Another message followed immediately.

[Can you at least tell us how much he paid for it?]

I scoffed.

’Paid?’

That man paid with emotional damage and near-death experiences.

My OmniSync rang again.

This time, it was Silvano.

I stared at the caller ID suspiciously before answering it.

"Blanca," Silvano greeted immediately, not even bothering with hello. "Why is almost everyone in the academy messaging me about The Phoenix’s Spiral?"

I snorted before putting the call on speaker and returning to carving the energy stone in front of me.

"Well hello to you too, Sylvie."

"Don’t call me that."

"Then don’t start conversations like an angry debt collector."

"Answer the question."

I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see me. "How am I supposed to know our piece suddenly became famous?"

"Even Miss Belle asked me how much I paid for it," he said, sounding genuinely disturbed.

My carving tool paused mid-air.

Do you know how much wealthy people spend on art?

One emotional speech and a tragic-looking sculpture later and suddenly they start throwing money around like they’re in a historical drama.

Honestly, artists in this world were terrifying.

I clicked my tongue regretfully. "Well, it’s up to you if you want to sell it or not. You own it anyway."

"We own it," he corrected immediately.

I frowned. "Don’t make it sound weird."

"It’s true," he said casually. "We made it together."

"What weird?" Silvano asked immediately.

I didn’t answer.

"And besides," he continued, amusement obvious in his voice now, "this is the first time someone has given me something this priceless."

My eye twitched.

"The way you said it," I muttered while carving another line into the energy stone. "You sounded like a divorced couple fighting over child custody."

There was silence on the other line.

"...What is wrong with your brain?" he finally asked.

"A lot actually."

"I can tell."

I clicked my tongue dramatically. "You called me first just to insult me?"

"I called because people keep trying to buy the sculpture!" he snapped. "Do you know how stressful this is?"

I blinked. "Stressful? You’re literally suffering from success."

"You don’t understand," he groaned. "Someone offered me three hundred thousand IC already."

My carving tool slipped. "...How much?"

"Three hundred thousand."

I slowly placed the carving tool down then clutched my chest.

"Blanca?" he said cautiously.

I resumed carving while balancing the OmniSync against a pile of papers. "So," I said casually. "How many people messaged you?"

"...Too many."

"How many is too many?"

"...Someone from another department offered custom materials if I sell it."

My eyes widened. "Materials?"

"Yes."

"What kind?"

"...High-grade purified energy stones."

I almost ascended spiritually. "Sylvie," I whispered. "Sell it."

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"We can split the money."

"No."

"I’ll even stop calling you Sylvie."

"...Temporarily?"

I gasped dramatically. "You wound me."

"You deserve it."

Before I could continue persuading him to abandon sentimentality and embrace capitalism, another notification popped on my OmniSync.

I glanced at it.

Then another.

And another.

My brows slowly furrowed. "...Why are people asking if I’m accepting disciples?" I muttered.

Silvano immediately laughed out loud. "You?" he said between laughs. "Teaching?"

"What’s wrong with that?"

"You threatened to throw a carving knife at me three days ago."

"Because you kept touching things you weren’t supposed to touch!"

"You called me an overgrown golden retriever once."

"Because you kept staring at me while I worked instead of helping!"

A laugh escaped him through the call.

"Next time," I muttered with dignity, "I’m charging you the same rates as my clients."

"Mm." His voice softened slightly. "Then I’ll just keep commissioning you."

"Whatever."