Shigeru's promised "couple of days" had long since stretched into weeks. The Fujiwara family, despite their best efforts, remained stuck in the sprawling complex. The capital grew more restless by the day, making an early return too risky. Time crawled, and everyone scrambled to find ways to stave off the crushing boredom threatening to drive them mad.
Ayana, with little else to do, threw herself into training. She honed her skills, focusing on physical drills and combat techniques. Her only goal? Stay ahead of the pack. Every morning, she jogged through the complex's quiet paths, sharpened her reflexes, and practiced weapon mastery. Under the gray, cloud-choked sky, surrounded by the empty corridors, she sometimes felt trapped in a void where only her effort existed. This routine's dull as hell, but at least I'm getting stronger. Still, the grind gave her a sense of progress.
Meanwhile, the rest of her family kept busy in their own ways. Naoko, craving something calmer, turned to cooking. She learned from the local servants, mastering a few complex dishes that drew everyone's attention. The scent of her creations wafted through the complex, a rare spark of warmth in the dreary days.
Takatsu buried himself in the Academy's grand library. He devoured ancient tomes, diving into history and philosophy. For him, the quiet stacks were a sanctuary where even the toughest questions found answers—at least on paper. If the world's a puzzle, these books hold the pieces.
Hiroto, though? Hiroto was a whirlwind. Why waste time moping? He dove into every sport the complex offered. One day, he'd be at the archery range, arrows flying true. The next, he'd be practicing martial dances or galloping on horseback, sword in hand. By the third day, you'd find him hefting weights or grilling skewers over an open fire. His mission was clear: master everything and never be boring. If I'm stuck here, might as well be the best at it all!
Ayana watched the whirlwind of odd activities around her, brushing it off to dive deeper into her training. She pushed herself until night fell, her focus unbreakable.
"BOO!" A sudden shout echoed behind the girls.
Kaiyo didn't even flinch. She spun, her fist slamming into Takeshi's stomach with lightning precision.
"GUH!" Takeshi wheezed, doubling over. But instead of collapsing, he staggered back, slipped on a wet tile, flailed wildly as if grabbing for an invisible railing, and—splash—tumbled into a decorative fountain.
For a moment, he just sat there, dazed, water dripping from his hair. "Why so brutal…" he mumbled, blinking like a soaked kitten.
"Don't sneak up on me," Kaiyo snapped, not sparing him a glance as she wiped her fist on her skirt.
Ayana snorted, barely containing her laughter as Takeshi clambered out, leaving a trail of soggy footprints, his expression a mix of wounded pride and samurai-like defiance. But her amusement faded fast. Dark figures moved in the distance.
"Hey, who are those guys?" Ayana asked, her brow furrowing.
Rich folks. But what were they doing here?
"No clue," Kaiyo said, her tone flat, as if the punch and the strangers were equally unremarkable.
Takeshi, now free of the fountain and shaking off water, piped up with a smug grin, like he'd just saved the world. "They're here to see Sensei for help," he said, raising a hand as if he had everything under control. "Overheard their chat earlier."
Ayana squinted, tracking the shadowy figures as they vanished into the building's gloom. "They must be nuts to come to Sensei for help," she muttered, her voice low with suspicion.
The word "Sensei" no longer felt distant to Ayana. It had become natural, even laced with respect. Over the past few weeks, she'd grown to know him better—each conversation, each meeting, like steps on a path, teaching her to see him not as some carefree figure but as a true mentor. He didn't just share knowledge; he guided her to uncover truths about herself.
Kaiyo, standing beside her, just shrugged. She wasn't sold on all this mystery and wisdom Sensei carried. It all felt too heavy for her taste. "What do you expect?" she said, eyeing the retreating figures. "Someone's always looking for protection. If they're coming to him, it's gotta be real trouble."
Ayana fell silent, lost in thought. So much is still hidden. The more she pondered, the clearer it became: her connection to Sensei wasn't random. Even if he wasn't what he first seemed, every moment spent with him pulled her deeper into a web of intrigue. Our paths crossed for a reason, didn't they?
Her gaze lingered on the shadowy figures slipping away. Something about it felt… off. Suspicious. But as always, surprises were never far off in this place.
A servant appeared out of nowhere, the air itself seeming to shiver with his presence. "Lady Ayana," he said with a slight bow, his voice calm and emotionless. "The head of the Keito clan requests your presence."
Ayana had just started to settle into the quiet rhythm of the secluded complex when the servant's words jolted her from her thoughts. Over the past few weeks, she'd barely seen Keito. He was always caught up—clan duties, missions, vanishing for days only to reappear, each time seeming more distant, more untouchable.
She stood quickly, heading for the door. A knot of tension coiled in her chest, a vague premonition she couldn't pin down. Is it just exhaustion? Or something about him? Keito felt both foreign and crucial, a figure woven into the heart of everything happening around her.
Stepping into the room, her eyes swept over her family. They were all there, as expected, murmuring quietly among themselves. But her gaze locked onto Keito, standing by the window, arms crossed, staring out at something far beyond the horizon. That look of his—guarded, confident, a touch dangerous yet eerily calm—never failed to pull attention. Even with the eyepatch, his presence radiated a commanding energy that demanded respect without a single word.
"News, Ayana," he said without turning, as if the statement was obvious to everyone. "Getting tired of this place, aren't you?"
Ayana paused, then steadied herself with a faint smile. "Not at all, Lord Keito," she replied, her tone light but firm. "I've actually gotten used to it. Kinda like it here."
Keito turned, his piercing gaze sweeping over her face, lingering just long enough to notice. A flicker of satisfaction passed through his eyes, though his expression stayed guarded. "Good to hear," he said, his voice carrying a weight that suggested her words mattered more than he let on. "Because the Fujiwara family can finally return to your world."
Ayana barely had time to process Keito's words when Shigeru, standing in the corner, snapped his fingers sharply. As if on cue, another servant slipped through the door, his entrance so seamless it felt scripted.
"Prepare the vehicles. We leave now," Shigeru ordered, his tone brimming with urgency, like he couldn't wait to get moving. The servant bowed silently and vanished as swiftly as he'd appeared.
Takatsu, seated at the table with a face like he'd just bitten into a lemon, raised his brows in surprise. "That fast?" he blurted out.
"What, you want to stay longer, Lord Takatsu? I wouldn't mind," Keito said, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk tugging at his lips. His voice stayed even, but a trace of irony danced in his words.
Takatsu caught Keito's glance and fumbled, clearly scrambling to backtrack. "No, no, not at all! Just… surprised, that's all," he said hastily, as if worried his words might be misread.
Keito gave a curt nod, brushing off the comment with indifference. "Good," he said simply, slipping back into his usual silence, lost in thought.
Ayana watched the scene unfold, saying nothing. The room fell quiet, save for the soft crackle of the fireplace and the faint echo of footsteps. The air buzzed with anticipation, like something big was about to happen—but what, exactly, remained a mystery. All that mattered now was the return, the next step on a path that had begun so reluctantly.
A few hours later, they were speeding through the capital's streets in Shigeru's sleek, elongated limousine. Inside, the cabin was hushed, the only sound the faint hum of tires on asphalt. The plush seats and dark interior cocooned them, creating a bubble of detachment from the world rushing by outside. Ayana sat by the window, lost in thought, her eyes tracing the fleeting cityscape.
Am I really home? The thought lingered as memories of the Academy—its quiet mountains, its strange serenity—felt like a distant dream, another world entirely.
The past weeks had been more than just the stillness of that secluded place. They were filled with moments that etched themselves into her mind. She'd grown used to the rhythm of life there, the calm where, in the shadow of towering peaks, she could just be herself. The Academy had given her something unexpected: real friends. Kaiyo, with her sharp edges and quick wit. Pandu, always eager to lend a hand. Hikaru, who could spark a conversation about anything and keep boredom at bay. Even Takeshi, with his ridiculous antics, had somehow become tolerable—maybe even endearing. They're weird, but they're my kind of weird. They'd become her anchor, a comfort she hadn't realized she needed.
Returning to her old life, to the capital's chaos and obligations, didn't feel as appealing anymore. She'd forgotten the constant noise, the suffocating weight of expectations and towering walls. In that new world, things were simpler, more straightforward. Yet, deep down, something told her this was the only path she could take.
The limousine swerved sharply onto a side street, snapping Ayana's attention. She glanced at Shigeru and caught him watching her, his eyes glinting with curiosity, as if he could read her every thought.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice soft but tinged with that familiar wariness he always had when sizing people up.
Ayana nodded, hiding her unease behind a faint smile. "Yeah, just… lost in thought."
Shigeru gave a small nod, not pressing further. It was hard to hide anything from him, but he knew when to give her space. Still, she'd made her choice—there was no going back now.
"We're being followed," Keito whispered, his voice barely audible.
Ayana's head snapped up, her focus locking onto him. Shigeru's face showed no panic, only his usual calm, but his words carried a sharp edge that set her nerves on fire.
"You sure?" she asked, trying to keep the worry out of her voice, though the creeping sense of danger was impossible to ignore.
Shigeru nodded subtly, his gaze sliding past her to the window, where the city's flickering lights and shadows blurred by. "I can feel it," he said, his tone steady but laced with hidden tension. "They're careful, but they're not slipping up. This isn't their first time."
Ayana's brow furrowed. For a split second, she swore she could sense it too—that faint whisper of danger lurking in the dark. Shigeru was rarely wrong about these things. If he says we're being tailed, we are.
"Who are they?" she asked, her fingers clenching into fists, as if that could steady her racing thoughts.
"Don't know yet," Shigeru replied, his eyes fixed on the shadowed streets where light and darkness played tricks. "But they're close. And they'll move soon. Be ready."
Ayana nodded, her heart pounding faster. In a city where every shadow could hide an enemy, where every step might be part of a bigger game, her instincts screamed to brace for anything.