The instructor moved first.

  Without warning, he lunged forward, wooden sword cutting through the air in a sharp arc aimed directly at Akitsu Shouga’s upper body.

  Akitsu’s eyes narrowed.

  Fast.

  He stepped in—not back—and raised his blade at the last possible moment.

  Clack!

  The swords met, wood scraping against wood as Akitsu cleanly parried the strike, redirecting the instructor’s momentum just enough to avoid being overwhelmed.

  The instructor’s lips curved upward.

  “That’s not a bad parry,” he said with clear amusement.

  Around them, the steady rhythm of sparring slowed. One by one, students stopped mid-swing, their attention drawn toward the unexpected duel unfolding at the center of the training grounds.

  Akitsu didn’t hesitate.

  The instant the parry ended, he surged forward, feet digging into the dirt as he swung his sword toward the instructor’s chest with decisive intent.

  The instructor anticipated it. He shifted his stance, blade already moving into position to block—

  —but Akitsu changed.

  At the very last moment, he twisted his body, dropped low, and threw himself toward the ground. Dust scattered as he slid forward, his sword reversing direction in a sharp, sweeping arc aimed at the instructor’s legs.

  The instructor’s eyes widened.

  There was no time to retreat.

  Thud.

  The wooden blade struck his ankle cleanly.

  The instructor immediately stepped back, breaking contact, while Akitsu rolled to his feet and regained his stance in one fluid motion.

  A brief silence fell over the training grounds.

  Then the instructor laughed.

  “That was a pretty good tactic,” he said approvingly. “But don’t use it unless it’s a last resort.”

  He straightened and lowered his sword.

  “There will be no punishment for you.”

  Murmurs rippled through the gathered students.

  The instructor turned sharply toward them, voice booming.

  “Go back to sparring! There’s nothing for you to see here!”

  Reluctantly, the students obeyed, though many cast lingering glances toward Akitsu.

  Before the atmosphere could fully settle, another presence entered the grounds.

  The air itself seemed to stiffen.

  A woman with silver hair tied neatly behind her back approached, her posture calm, her eyes sharp and observant.

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  The Headmaster of Fiester Academy — Itsuki Shiraishi.

  “That was an excellent performance!” she said warmly.

  The instructor stiffened and bowed. “Headmaster? What are you doing here?”

  “I’m simply checking up on the young ones,” Itsuki replied.

  Her gaze shifted.

  Akitsu was now sparring casually with Ringo, his movements controlled, precise, almost restrained.

  Itsuki’s eyes lingered on him longer than necessary.

  “Kazehaya-kun,” she said quietly. “There is a favor I would like you to do for me.”

  The instructor turned back. “What is it, Headmaster?”

  “I’d like you to protect that young one who was with you just now.”

  The instructor followed her line of sight. “You mean… him?”

  “Yes,” Itsuki said firmly. “He’s a special one. He cannot be replaced.”

  The instructor hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, Headmaster. I’ll do as you say.”

  “Good.” She smiled faintly. “I’ll be taking my leave now. Take care.”

  She turned and walked away, her presence fading as quietly as it had arrived.

  The instructor watched her go, then glanced back at Akitsu.

  “…How special can that kid be,” he muttered, “that he can’t be replaced?”

  His grip tightened around his sword.

  “This is the second time she’s asked me for a favor like this. The last time was Kael Ardent. She said the same thing back then.”

  He exhaled slowly.

  “I guess he really is one of a kind.”

  After classes ended, the classroom buzzed with the sounds of bags being packed and chairs scraping against the floor.

  Akitsu and Ringo stood side by side, gathering their things.

  “Akitsu-kun,” Ringo said hesitantly, “you live in your parents’ house, right? Why not move into one of the dorms?”

  Akitsu paused, then replied casually, “I will, sooner or later. But currently, I’m living in my in-laws’ house.”

  Ringo froze.

  “…Huh? Your in-laws’ house?”

  Akitsu lifted his wrist slightly, revealing a pink charm bracelet wrapped around it.

  “Yeah. I have a fiancée.”

  Ringo stared at him, stunned. “Lucky! So when are you getting married?”

  “I don’t know,” Akitsu replied. “Maybe in a couple of years. I’ll invite you to the wedding, Ringo.”

  Ringo smiled warmly. “I’d appreciate that.”

  They finished packing and headed downstairs together.

  “See you later, Akitsu-kun,” Ringo said.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  They parted ways at the entrance.

  Akitsu didn’t see Kaoru anywhere.

  He sat down on a stone bench near the statue in front of the academic building, resting his elbows on his knees.

  A moment later, Kaoru emerged from the building, surrounded by a group of friends, laughing softly as they walked.

  Akitsu’s chest tightened.

  “…This is the first time I’ve seen her with her friends,” he murmured. “It makes my heart race.”

  A voice whispered right behind his ear.

  “And how exactly does it make your heart race?”

  Akitsu shot up and spun around.

  Standing there was a man wearing a blue hoodie, his body wrapped in bloodstained bandages.

  Sora Amamiya.

  “Hello, my good friend!” Sora grinned. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

  Akitsu’s eyes widened. “I thought you were supposed to be dead!”

  Sora laughed. “Man! The healers in this kingdom are the best. They patched me up like it was light work!”

  “Why are you here?” Akitsu asked calmly. “Are you here for revenge?”

  “Well,” Sora said, beginning to unwrap his bandages, revealing his scarred face, “that’s part of it.”

  He smirked.

  “But I’m really here for a friendly rematch. I don’t like losing to a weakling.”

  Akitsu glanced toward Kaoru approaching—then back at Sora.

  “How about it?” Sora asked.

  “I… I can’t,” Akitsu said quietly. “I can’t die.”

  Suddenly, the world went dark.

  Total darkness swallowed his vision.

  “…This again?” Akitsu whispered. “Did I say something wrong?”

  Tiny red lights appeared—dozens, hundreds—floating gently in the void.

  “What is that…?”

  He reached out instinctively with his right hand.

  His fingernails were still stained red—from a previous encounter.

  The red lights rushed toward him, clinging to his arm.

  Nothing happened.

  “…Why are they all attracted to my right hand?” he said calmly.

  Then—

  He was back.

  “Oi! Hurry up and answer already!” Sora snapped.

  Akitsu lowered his hand. “Sure. But I can’t do it right now. How about we do it at midnight?”

  Sora grinned. “That’ll do. You better arrive—or else.”

  “I know. I will.”

  Sora leapt away, vanishing into the trees.

  Kaoru walked up moments later.

  “Shouga-kun, let’s go home!”

  “I’m sorry, Kaoru,” Akitsu said. “I have something to do today. Can you go home alone?”

  She smiled gently. “Yeah. There’s no need to worry.”

  “Alright. I’ll be home in a few hours.”

  “Okay.”

  She waved as she left.

  Akitsu waved back, smiling.

  He sat back down, waiting.

  Minutes later, Haruya Takeda exited the academic building alone.

  Akitsu stood and followed him—through streets, markets, and finally to a large mansion.

  He hid beneath a tree near the gate.

  “So this is where he lives, huh?” Akitsu muttered. “He doesn’t look like a bad kid.”

  Seraphine appeared beside him. “Yeah, but I bet he’s corrupted inside. Or maybe he’s a psychopathic serial killer!”

  “Shut up,” Akitsu whispered. “You’re going to blow my cover.”

  “You’re no fun!”