Chapter 23 - 23 TAPPED

AM N. NOT.

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🖕🏻

[ Maki's POV ]

I walked forward, trying to blend in with the crowd.

But something felt wrong.

Crocs.

On sand.

I looked down and watched white grains slipping inside with every step I took. The irritation built instantly. I stopped walking and lifted one foot slightly, shaking it.

White sand invaders.

Great.

As I focused on fixing my slippers, I noticed a shadow stretch over me.

I looked up.

The guy standing in front of me had engine-like turbos attached to his legs. Mechanical. Loud-looking. Flashy.

Then he suddenly started shouting at me.

Delinquent. Unfit. Leave while I still can.

His words were sharp. Accusing. Like I didn't belong here.

This was new.

Back where I came from, I was never good at communicating with people. Even in my hometown, I only had a small circle—five real friends. The kind who grew up with you. The kind who wouldn't snitch. The kind who stayed.

We lived simple lives.

And now here I was.

A complete stranger I had never met was telling me to leave as if he had the right.

I was just standing there. Minded my own business. Tried to blend in.

I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for a promise.

My chest tightened.

Anger rose fast—too fast.

I know I'm just some random guy who got thrown into this world. But for someone to casually throw those words at me…

Ah.

I get it.

The type who thinks they're above others. The type who thinks the world bends for them. The type who judges before understanding.

Growing up, I learned one thing.

If something bites your bait—bite back harder.

Then something inside me shifted.

Boooooooooom.

It felt like something burst outward from my core.

Heavy.

Oppressive.

Intoxicating.

Anger and frustration spilling out at the same time.

I don't know what it was. Maybe one of my abilities reacting. But it felt… good.

Really good.

The air around us felt thicker.

Then—

A calm, polite woman's voice cut through the tension, telling me to control myself.

I looked up.

I saw her.

But I didn't know how to control this… pressure thing.

And then—

I smelled it.

Not to brag, but my senses were on another level. Maybe it was because of Hashirama's physique. Everything felt sharper. More alive.

From her.

I could smell blood.

My sixth sense buzzed violently—like Spider-Man's danger sense in the movies.

Warning.

Danger.

Hidden threat.

This woman was dangerous.

And she was hiding it well.

I spoke to her, but she remained composed. No unnecessary movements. No visible reaction.

When our eyes met, I noticed something in her blue gaze.

Curiosity.

Interest.

Maybe even excitement.

We stared at each other.

As the seconds passed, I felt my breathing slow. My composure returned. The pressure I released began to fade.

But I didn't break eye contact.

Neither did she.

She was analyzing me.

Deciphering.

Searching.

For weaknesses.

Then she raised one eyebrow.

Before anything more could happen, Present Mic's loud, energetic voice shattered the moment.

The woman closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, she smiled at me.

Then another woman stepped forward.

Long legs.

That was the first thing I noticed.

A sword rested at her waist.

Even as she addressed the crowd, I could still feel the braided woman's gaze lingering on me.

The long-legged woman spoke about dividing us into groups and gave us one hour to prepare.

I waited like everyone else.

Then—

Tap.

A light touch on my shoulder.

I turned.

The same hand I saw at the entrance.

She stood close—around my height, light tan skin. Wavy white hair flowing down her back. Bangs covered her left eye. Her visible eye was blue. Her lips were lavender, prominent and smooth.

She wore a pink-striped leotard. A large yellow scarf flowed almost to the ground behind her. Sleeves hugged her elbows. Long dark boots reached her knees, decorated near the top.

A rose tattoo rested on her upper right thigh.

I stared.

Said nothing.

In a calm, almost bored tone, she asked, "What's your name?"

I opened my mouth—

Nothing came out.

Was I scared to talk to a girl?

No.

I just wasn't good at talking to strangers. It felt like being thrown into a live interview without preparation.

I swallowed.

Time was moving.

I needed to answer.

But she spoke first.

"Well. Good talk, I guess. You can call me Smoothie. Charlotte Smoothie. Looks like we'll be attending the same school. Same year."

Then she turned and walked back to a small group of girls.

Just like that.

I wasn't really interested in socializing anyway.

Another tap.

This time on my arm.

I turned again.

The long-legged woman from earlier—the one who spoke on the stairs.

What was her name?

I remembered some small purple guy muttering earlier…

"Lion?" No.

Gion.

Up close, she reached about my shoulder in height.

And then I smelled it.

Smoke.

Cigarettes.

Without thinking, I raised my hand and pinched my nose shut.

She blinked in confusion, sniffed her own arm and sleeve. She didn't seem to smell anything.

One eyebrow lifted.

"What?" her expression asked silently.

"You smell like cigarettes," I said plainly.

She chuckled.

From her pocket, she pulled out a black ribbon and handed it to me.

"Look for an instructor wearing one of these. Follow them. They'll take you to the examination venue."

I nodded.

She waved lightly and walked away.

I lowered my hand from my nose and took a deep breath of clean air.

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.!!ヽ(ﾟдﾟヽ)(ﾉﾟдﾟ)ﾉ!!

AM N. NOT.