The academy looked perfect from afar—towers gleaming, gold catching the sun—but inside, not so much. Y/N stepped through the gates, heads turning immediately. Whispers followed, soft and admiring. He smiled, effortless and warm, pretending not to notice. Perfect, polished, adored. Then came the crack. Magic shifted down the hall, sharp and uneven. Conversations faltered. At the far end, a small crowd had formed. Y/N approached, curiosity flickering. Heart stood in the center, green skin catching the light, dark hair messy, magic lingering thick around him. A training dummy smoldered nearby. A professor scolded, voice tight. “…Control is not optional. You will learn it, or leave.” Heart didn’t respond. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t care. Y/N frowned. Most would be embarrassed or flustered. This one wasn’t. It irritated him instantly. “Excuse me,” Y/N said lightly, stepping forward. Heart’s gaze lifted. Their eyes met. Sharp. Intense. “No,” Heart said flatly. “Not under control.” A pause. Then, quieter, almost amused: “But it will be.” Y/N smiled polite, bright. Something in his chest twisted. For the first time, someone wasn’t impressed—and he wanted to change that.