Under the dim starlight, the night was as dark as a pool of ink.
And Nao Natsuya's face was even darker.
Being consistently ranked in the top ten of the elite camp's assessments was no small feat. Upon graduation, barring any major setbacks, someone like Shia could expect to be commissioned at least as a Marine Major.
Meanwhile, Nao's mid-to-upper-level ranking, if left unimproved, might top out at Headquarters Lieutenant at best.
Damn it, this is ridiculous… It's bad enough having a girl stalk me for a year, but why does she have to be this strong too?
Nao really wanted to rewind time and slap his past self from ten seconds ago, telling him to think harder and come up with a better excuse to reject her.
"Ahem… Miss Shia, assessment rankings don't necessarily reflect actual combat strength. Real battles are where true skill is shown. You understand what I mean, right?"
After racking his brain for a while, he finally had a flash of inspiration. "I specialize in hand-to-hand combat and swordsmanship—especially hand-to-hand. How about you, Miss Shia?"
"Coincidentally, I specialize in hand-to-hand as well," Shia said softly. "I've already basically mastered Rankyaku and Shigan."
"And Soru?"
"Well, I know a bit, but I'm not that proficient."
"Perfect. Let's make a bet. You have ten minutes. You can attack me however you like. I'll only dodge and block—no counterattacks. If you can land a single hit on my chest, I'll acknowledge your strength and allow you to pursue me. If not, I'd appreciate it if you stopped bothering me in the future."
"Deal." Shia nodded without hesitation.
Her confidence was clear, her eyes shining. The way she looked at Nao had shifted slightly.
"… …"
Nao felt a sudden chill.
He couldn't shake the feeling that her gaze was that of a predator who'd just seen her prey walk into a trap.
Well, whatever she thinks, it doesn't matter. My goal's already achieved.
He'd been fretting about finding someone to test his new Intermediate Kami-e technique tonight. Now, not only was that problem solved, but he could also use this opportunity to fend off Shia's persistent pursuit.
Two birds with one stone. Genius plan.
…
A short distance from the training grounds in the southeast direction stood Headquarters' clock tower. Even from several hundred meters away, Nao could clearly see the position of the clock hands.
He and Shia stood about ten meters apart. When the clock struck exactly nine o'clock, he raised his right hand to signal the start.
Swish!
Before he could even lower his hand, the air was sliced by a sharp, whistling sound—a Rankyaku aimed straight at his face.
Rankyaku, or "Storm Leg," was performed by kicking at such high speed that the leg surpassed the speed of sound, compressing the air and creating a slicing vacuum wave.
For someone without mastery of Armament Haki or Tekkai, it was no joke.
Nao didn't dare be careless.
He focused intently on the incoming, invisible strike. Just as it was about to reach him, he twisted his body sharply to the right at an impossibly precise angle, blending into the airflow and dodging the Rankyaku with ease.
Boom!
The Rankyaku's wave exploded against a sandbag several meters behind him, scattering dust and grit into the air.
Shia, with her long blue hair flowing behind her, blinked in surprise. But her shock vanished in an instant. Her right foot struck the ground with blinding speed.
Soru!
Her silhouette blurred, twisting the air itself, and in a flash, she reappeared at Nao's right side, eyes locked on target, her entire body channeled into her extended right finger.
Shigan!
That piercing finger strike was sharp and forceful, with a penetration power rivaling a bullet. But to Nao's eyes, the ripples of air it created, though faint, were still detectable.
In that instant, his body flowed like silk, melting into the shifting currents and dodging the attack at the last possible moment.
"Eh?"
Shia's eyes widened. Her Shigan was so fast that even Zephyr-sensei himself had praised her. How was it possible for Nao to dodge it so effortlessly?
Unwilling to accept it, she cast aside all hesitation. Adjusting her breathing, she unleashed a flurry of attacks—using Soru to shift positions and firing off a storm of Shigan strikes, each sharper and faster than the last.
Yet, despite her best efforts, Nao dodged everything with ease.
In fact, the longer they sparred, the more his movements seemed natural and fluid, as if he were simply taking a leisurely stroll through a garden.
What's going on?
A hint of disbelief crept into Shia's expression.
No one in the entire elite camp understood Nao better than she did. Based on her observations, his strengths lay in stamina and dual-blade swordsmanship. When did he become this proficient at Kami-e?
Rokushiki was only officially introduced by Zephyr-sensei two months ago. Even she had only managed to grasp three techniques so far, with her Kami-e still at a beginner level.
But the reality before her left no room for doubt.
As the seconds ticked down toward the ten-minute mark, Shia grew increasingly anxious. Forget landing a hit on Nao's chest—she hadn't even grazed him once. Seeing the faintly smug smile on his face, she felt a wave of frustration and sadness.
Am I really that weak? She bit her lip. Even if he doesn't accept my confession right away, can't he at least leave me a chance to keep trying?
Nao, in contrast, was grinning ear to ear.
His delight was twofold: first, the unexpected effectiveness of his new Intermediate Kami-e; second, the satisfaction of his plan working out perfectly.
If just an intermediate-level Kami-e can do this, imagine what I could accomplish with advanced-level skills! I might even match CP9's agents someday.
These 1,000 points were well spent.
Of course, that feeling was hard to describe, and Shia couldn't possibly understand. To her, it looked like Nao was inwardly laughing at her futile efforts.
Her frustration deepened, and just as the ten-minute mark struck, she glanced at the clock tower and stopped her attacks.
Nao also ceased his evasive maneuvers.
"Time's up!" he announced with a triumphant smile. "A deal's a deal, Miss Shia. I win. So from now on—"
His words cut off abruptly.
For when he looked up, he saw her standing silently under the black streetlight, tears streaming down her face.
"S-Shia…"
Nao froze, completely at a loss. With no experience comforting a crying girl, he was utterly dumbfounded.
He'd never encountered something like this before. Sure, he'd made Bellemere cry back in East Blue, but she always fought back—returning every prank with one of her own. The result was usually both of them wrestling under the orange trees, oranges rolling everywhere, bruises all over, and neither side willing to concede.
But Shia was clearly different. And she wasn't just an old friend—she was a fellow recruit, someone he barely knew despite training together for a year…