The Overlooked Twin Is the Pack’s S-Class Warrior Chapter 06

The Overlooked Twin Is the Pack’s S-Class Warrior Chapter 06

The train rattled south.

I leaned back in my seat and watched the scenery blur past. I felt a lightness I hadn’t known in years. It was like pulling out a splinter that had been festering under my skin for eighteen years. It bled a little, but at least it wasn’t infected anymore.

August in Blackthorn came with humid ocean air. When I stepped off the train with my suitcase, a senior assigned to welcome new students was already waiting.

“Hey, freshman? Which college?” He walked up, full of energy.

“Combat Mecha.”

“Whoa, the top college! Right this way—shuttle’s over there.”

Because I’d arrived two weeks before the semester started, I got early move-in approved without a hitch. Four-person dorm, top bunk by the window.

My roommates hadn’t arrived yet, so the empty room held nothing but the sound of wind through the balcony.

I spent the whole afternoon scrubbing the place spotless, then hit the campus store for brand-new bedding. Pale blue. My color. Not another hand-me-down Sarah was done with.

That night, I lay in an unfamiliar bed, listening to cicadas drift through the window. I slept deeper than I had in years.

On the third day, I found a tutoring job near campus. With the title of pack aptitude test top scorer, the position came ridiculously easy.

Every day, I led my student through hill sprints and coached him in the sparring ring. His mother treated me with genuine respect. Paid on time, every time. Always had sliced fruit ready for me.

The day I got my first paycheck, I went to the busiest market in Blackthorn. I ordered a huge plate of loaded nachos with extra jalapeños and spicy chorizo, plus a double strawberry lemonade slush.

That first sip—sweet and sharp, icy cold—exploded on my tongue. Money I earned with my own hands tasted a hell of a lot better. I ate what I wanted, went where I wanted, and didn’t have to answer to anyone.

After classes officially started, I used my S-class rating and a cold, almost ruthless interview performance to edge out several legacy recruits and land the Vanguard Scholar Full Scholarship. Full tuition, plus a generous monthly stipend.

My schedule filled up fast. Eight a.m. lectures, afternoons in Hangar Three, nights buried in the engineering library.

On weekends, I tutored and put in mandatory hours at the Mecha Combat Club. I was a sponge, soaking up everything this new world had to offer.

And news from that family—of course it found me. Through an old classmate who’d added me to our high school group chat.

She sent a screenshot: a long post Mom had published on the pack forum, dripping with regret and motherly devotion.

She wrote about how guilty she felt, how I’d always been such a thoughtful kid, how I must’ve been crushed by pressure to run away like that. It ended with a sobbing emoji.

The comments were full of pack members offering sympathy.
They said I was probably just emotional, that I’d come around soon.

I swiped past it without flinching. They were always good at putting on a show.

My old classmate messaged again. [Katherine, where are you? Your family’s been to school looking for you, like, five times. They even went to the principal’s office.]

I typed back: [I’m not available.]