Yuzu woke before dawn, his body aching as if he'd run for miles and fought through storms. Every limb felt heavier. Denser. Like his bones had been filled with sap instead of marrow.
The sigil on his palm still shimmered faintly, a kaleidoscope of colors flickering beneath the skin. He wrapped it with a strip of cloth torn from his bedsheet, then pulled on his uniform — careful to keep the wrapping hidden beneath his sleeve.
The hallway outside his dorm was quiet, washed in blue morning light. Somewhere in the distance, a bell chimed. Classes would begin soon.
Yuzu didn't go.
Instead, he followed the gravel path back toward the fig tree — the one where Gelmo had found him just days ago. The air was crisp, the scent of dew mingling with the faint sweetness of blooming lychees overhead. Fruit Spirits drifted lazily between branches, most still asleep, glowing faintly like lanterns at rest.
None came near him.
He sat with his back against the tree, heart still thudding with the memory of the greenhouse. Of the voice. Of the pain. He closed his eyes, trying to summon that place again — the white void, the golden-black tree, the flickering skills.
Nothing.
Only silence.
Then — a flicker. Faint. Like a candle seen through mist.
A translucent icon pulsed in his vision.
[Skill Notification: Flavor Sense — Rank F Active]
Yuzu blinked. The world shifted.
Color bled from the edges of things — but not all color. Just the mundane parts. What remained were flavors, floating just beneath the surface of reality. His eyes adjusted instinctively. The fig tree behind him shimmered with notes of rich, honeyed sweetness, tinged with peppery bite. The path beneath him glowed faintly bitter, its gravel carrying the taste of iron and old rain.
And there — faint but present — a trail.
Like crumbs dropped by something trying not to be followed.
He stood.
The trail led away from the Academy. Not far. Just past the southern fence, where wild groves overtook the carefully maintained gardens.
Yuzu hesitated. Then stepped over the boundary.
The world here felt different. Less curated. The air buzzed with unseen energy, and wild Fruit Spirits — ones untamed and unbonded — flickered between tree limbs. A few paused when they saw him, their expressions unreadable. Curious. Wary.
The trail of flavor grew stronger.
Eventually, it led him to a clearing.
At its center stood a boy. Alone. His back was to Yuzu, but his aura was unmistakable — sharp citrus with a spark of something metallic.
Yuzu recognized him instantly.
"Zeran," he said.
The boy turned. His Fruit Spirit hovered above his shoulder — a sleek blood-orange with jagged peel ridges, pulsing with faint static. Zeran sneered when he saw him.
"Well, if it isn't the compost boy," he said. "Didn't expect to see you outside your little zero-flavor pity corner."
Yuzu didn't rise to the bait. "What are you doing out here?"
Zeran's eyes narrowed. "None of your business."
His spirit buzzed, shedding sparks in the air.
Yuzu's new sense tingled. The aura around Zeran wasn't stable — it had cracks. Sharp notes of bitterness bled into the citrus, hints of fear, jealousy… and something else. Something rotten.
"You're trying to force a flavor evolution," Yuzu said quietly.
Zeran blinked. Just once. But it was enough.
"Shut up," he growled.
Yuzu took a step forward. "That's why you're out here alone. The Academy forbids it — using wild spirits, trying to splice traits. It's dangerous."
"You don't know anything," Zeran snapped, his voice cracking. "You don't have a spirit. You don't even belong here."
The blood-orange surged forward. Static arced toward Yuzu, crackling along the ground.
Yuzu didn't move.
Not physically.
Instead, he tasted the attack.
The flavor hit him first — a burst of sour heat, like biting into an overripe lemon laced with iron. His body reacted instinctively, dodging sideways before the lightning could strike.
[Flavor Sense Triggered: Prediction Success +2 XP]
The notification flared briefly and vanished.
Zeran stared. "How did you—"
But Yuzu wasn't listening anymore.
He reached inward. Toward the roots now buried in his soul. Toward the golden-black tree. Something inside pulsed in reply.
And in front of him, a second icon flickered into being.
[Active Skill: Devourer's Glare — Rank F]
Temporarily weaken an enemy's Fruit Spirit. Success increases with flavor contrast.
Yuzu focused on the sour-citrus crackle of Zeran's aura… and invoked the skill.
The effect was immediate.
Zeran gasped, clutching his stomach. His spirit flickered, sputtering like a candle in wind. Its glow dimmed, its shape wavered.
"What… what did you do?!"
Yuzu didn't answer.
He couldn't explain it.
The skill hadn't just weakened the spirit — it had tasted it. Taken a part of it into Yuzu's own. He could feel it now, coiled somewhere inside. Not fully absorbed, but… stored. Like a flavor sample.
He turned and walked away, heart pounding.
Behind him, Zeran collapsed to his knees, the spark gone from his spirit's eye.
Back at the Academy, Yuzu slipped into the greenhouse again before sunrise.
The twisted tree was silent now, its eye closed. But it pulsed when he approached, acknowledging him.
Yuzu sat beside it, the taste of sour-citrus still burning faintly on his tongue.
He didn't know what he was becoming. Only that it was no longer what the Academy taught. No longer what the world expected.
He was a devourer now.
And his hunger had only just begun.