017. Pocket Watch, 2/4, Guitar

The afternoon sunlight streamed through the window into the classroom, casting a warm glow on Yuyuki Nankumo’s eyelids, filling him with a subtle warmth and a wave of drowsiness. He had merely intended to rest his head on the desk for a moment, but an indescribable fatigue swiftly overcame him, and before he knew it, he had fallen asleep.

The dream was profound, as if endless.

His consciousness seemed to be pulled downward by some unseen force, sinking deeper and deeper.

All around was pitch black, without a single glimmer of light, with only himself suspended in this void.

Then, in the next instant, a dazzling golden light suddenly appeared.

Yuyuki’s eyes snapped open wide as he beheld a gigantic pocket watch hanging above the darkness.

Though called a “pocket watch,” its size far exceeded ordinary understanding, resembling a half-floating sun in the void, radiating a faint golden glow.

The watch’s face was divided into four sections; two of these sections were ignited, burning with a strange fiery golden light, while the other two remained shrouded in deep, deathly blackness.

The entire watch was forged from an unknown metal, its dial intricately engraved with complex patterns that seemed like some ancient script.

Yuyuki could not decipher the characters but felt an overwhelming sense of majesty emanating from it.

Holding his breath, he cautiously moved closer, eager to see more clearly.

Yet, just as he took a step forward—

Bang!

A heavy pressure suddenly erupted from the watch, pressing down forcefully on his shoulders, shaking his very consciousness.

He felt as if his soul was exposed directly to a storm, countless torrents of information assaulting him like a violent tempest.

He barely resisted for a few seconds before his entire being could no longer withstand it.

Thud!

He jolted awake, snapping his eyes open abruptly and bouncing up from his seat.

The surroundings reappeared.

Sunlight poured through the glass window into the classroom, and the girls of Tsukinomori sat quietly at their desks; the afternoon campus remained serene, as if everything just experienced had been nothing but a hallucination.

Yuyuki instinctively reached to press his hand against his chest; his heart pounded wildly, sweat forming on his palm.

Before he could gather his thoughts, a gentle hand tapped his shoulder.

Turning his head, he saw Hatsune Waka looking at him with her calm eyes:

“Class time.”

Yuyuki was momentarily stunned—he had actually fallen asleep through the entire lesson.

He nodded, “Thank you.”

Then, as if it were perfectly natural, he pulled out his chair and sat down beside Hatsune again.

Hatsune seemed accustomed to this, shifting her textbook slightly to the side so he could see the contents too.

Yuyuki smiled faintly, his gaze resting on the textbook, though his mind was teeming with thoughts.

He recalled the enormous pocket watch he had seen in the realm of consciousness.

The golden dial, the mysterious ancient script, the four distinct sections—two already aflame, two still dormant.

That oppressive weight, that ineffable mystery—it was no ordinary dream but something truly real.

Taking a deep breath, he projected a panel only he could see:

[Ignited Word Spirit (2/4)]

He had suspected before that the so-called “word spirit ignition progress” was not merely a number in a system but something truly existing within himself.

And the pocket watch he had just seen in his consciousness was almost certainly his word spirit—or at least a core mechanism intimately linked to it.

Yuyuki forced his breathing to remain steady, concealing any abnormality.

His current “word spirit ignition” progress was exactly 2 out of 4.

“So, when the progress reaches 4 out of 4, the entire watch will be fully ignited—that will be when my word spirit is activated?”

He recalled how he had reached these two ignition points.

The first was at Hatsune’s house, on the night her golden eyes suddenly ignited.

The second was this morning, when Yoshiko Toyokawa told him “Don’t die,” and the system recognized that he had witnessed a step on the path to deification, adding one progress point.

It was clear then—the progress increase was linked to “witnessing some special event.”

He pressed his brow, thoughts swirling relentlessly.

The immediate priority was to push this progress to 100% as soon as possible.

In the world of the dragon race and hybrids, only by igniting one’s own word spirit could one feel a measure of peace.

At that moment, the teacher at the podium had moved on to the next section, and the classroom was filled with the rustle of turning pages.

Only then did Yuyuki come back to himself, realizing he had been lost in thought for several minutes.

Adjusting his posture slightly, he tried to appear attentive.

“I can’t just go straight to Genji Heavy Industries... that would be absurd.”

He was still just an ordinary student; rashly stepping into the conflicts of the hybrid world would be the fastest way to get himself killed.

Yuyuki pondered quietly and decided to stay steady for now, to complete the remaining word spirit ignition progress before taking any further action.

……

The next few lessons passed uneventfully, more in line with what a normal person might imagine of school life.

At last, the bell signaled the end of the day’s lessons, and the classroom erupted into noise.

Many students could no longer contain themselves; closing books and tossing bags, they dashed out of the room within seconds.

“Is this the sprint talent of students from Tsukinomori?” Yuyuki was shocked.

He was in no rush and leisurely packed his things.

His textbook had yet to arrive; he would probably have to collect it tomorrow.

As he finished tidying, he glanced to the side and saw Hatsune standing by his desk, even quicker than him.

“Guitar today?” she asked.

He suddenly remembered that not long ago, at a dinner at Hatsune’s house, she had asked if he could teach her to play guitar.

He hadn’t yet replied then, interrupted abruptly by Minami Mori’s sudden appearance.

Later, Hatsune’s mother had made a similar invitation, saying he was welcome to come over often to play guitar with Hatsune.

At the time, Yuyuki had been unsure whether the invitation was sincere, given Minami’s theatrical manner made it hard to gauge her true intentions.

But now, Hatsune brought it up herself, showing she genuinely remembered.

Yuyuki pondered briefly; he was indeed curious about the atmosphere in Hatsune’s family.

Families where the relationship between parents and children was so distant were rare; even Lu Mingfei, who hadn’t seen his parents in years, still thought of them.

Lu’s parents had even asked the principal to pass letters to him when Mingfei entered Cassell Academy.

But the Waka family was entirely different.

It was puzzling.

What could cause the only daughter of a family to face her parents as if they were mere landlords?

Yuyuki nodded.

“Alright.”

Since she brought it up, he would go.