Yumix; Unveiled Chapter 3: Where will fate lead us?

Read chapter 3 of Yumix; Unveiled by iiPilix on NovelPedia.

The Original LightNovel Project Volume 01, Chapter 03: [ Where will fate lead us? ] Original work. By the author 'Pili.' Darkness. An inky void stretched endlessly around Hiroki. He strained to focus on a figure far away, in a faint glow. Was it a girl? Her voice echoed through the emptiness, blurry like a distant memory. "You have to prepare and be patient for what will come to you later," she whispered. "Don't worry, I will be by your side." Hiroki woke with an unsettling calm, the dream clinging to him like cobwebs. "What did it mean? Was it a premonition?" He mulled over its cryptic message, a knot of unease tightening in his mind. Determined to make sense of his situation, Hiroki headed to the central service room. A woman worker greeted him. "You must be Hiroki," she said, consulting a list. "Nao mentioned your case. With the influx of displaced survivors after last night's tragedy, the village is stretched thin. The best option for now is the Main Shelter. It will provide you with basic necessities and access to village services." Hiroki's tired nod spoke volumes. The chaos of the previous night – the explosion, the lost lives – still hung heavy on him. Shelter, even temporary, sounded like a haven. "Alright," he mumbled. He prepare by gathering his meager belongings. A fleeting thought struck him. "Wait, didn't I have a book to take with me? Ah, whatever," he dismissed it, focusing on the move ahead. He boarded a ramshackle transport carriage, resembling a horse-drawn relic from a bygone era. Other survivors crowded the cramped space, their faces etched with loss and uncertainty. Across the wagon, a boy his age locked eyes with Hiroki. The intensity of his stare left traces of doubt in Hiroki. Exhausted and numb, Hiroki simply looked away, lost in his thoughts. Meanwhile , in a dimly lit room, village officials huddled together, their faces grim. "The sudden influx of newcomers is suspicious," one muttered. "Do you think it's connected to last night's catastrophe?" Another chimed in, "The perpetrator could be among them. Who knows?" Back at the shelter, eight newcomers, including Hiroki, arrived. Whispers swirled around him: "He looks too old for this place." "Just another homeless soul." "Wonder what dark secrets he's hiding?" Conversations swirled around his enigmatic past. Lost in thought, Hiroki couldn't help but mutter, "My real story? I wish I knew myself. My head's a mess after that blast." Organizers lined them up, assigning rooms and roles. Overwhelmed and exhausted, Hiroki struggled to engage with his surroundings. A curious girl approached him, noticing his troubled expression. "Why do you look so lost in your mind?" she asked in cold way. Without a response from him, she continued speaking with a sigh from him, "ugh, no answer here, seems like you're carrying the weight of the Night Massacre." Hiroki hesitated, unsure of how to respond. "Not exactly," he finally admitted. "I can't remember anything before. Why I was even there…" A flicker of interest sparked in the girl's eyes, tinged with a playful silly smile. "Sounds like you have a lot to unpack," she remarked with a hint of amusement. "But hey, welcome! I'm Yoru Hoshizora . And you...?" "Hiroki Kurogane," he replied. Her lips curved into a sly smile. "Nice to meet you, Kurogane. This shelter might seem dull, but it holds some hidden gems. And you certainly seem like one of them." As introductions unfolded, the boy from the carriage appeared behind Hiroki, a shadow cloaking his features. "You," his voice barely a whisper. "Got a moment? Need answers." Hiroki sighed, weariness etched on his face. He knew he couldn't ignore those piercing eyes. "Fine," he conceded. (Art 01: Yoru Hoshizora, 17 years old, she is older than Hiroki with few month's): Hiroki was called into a secluded corner by that person. "You," the boy hisses, barely a whisper. "Know anything about what happened before? That catastrophe?" Hiroki shakes his head, his memory a frustrati