The morning sun spilled through the tall infirmary windows, soft and pale.The scent of herbs hung faintly in the air — clean, sharp, and tired.
Kazuo and Aoi were still wrapped in bandages from shoulder to waist. No lasting damage, the healers had said. No scars that couldn't fade. But walking was still out of the question. For now, even breathing too deep hurt.They both sat on their bed leanig against the soft pillows.
The door slid open.
Captain Idris stepped in first — cigarette in hand, eyes half-lidded as always.Behind him followed Mimi, clutching a small bouquet and looking both furious and relieved.
Idris' voice was dry. "How are you feeling, Aoi?"
Aoi let out a weak chuckle. "Better, I think."
"Good," Mimi said, crossing her arms. "Then you can handle this."
Before anyone could react, she slapped him across the face.
Kazuo's eyes widened. "W-what the—?!"
Mimi's voice trembled, caught between anger and tears. "You idiot! I was worried sick! You wanted to win so badly, but using your Esoteric Art like that? You could've died!"
Aoi blinked, then interrupted softly, "...Sorry."
That single word silenced her. She froze — then scoffed, brushing her hair aside. "That's a first. Doesn't suit you at all… but I'm glad you're still breathing."
Kazuo smiled faintly at the sight.
Mimi turned to him, regaining her composure. "And you—congratulations, I guess. You earned it."Then she hurried out before anyone could see her more emotional than usual.
Idris exhaled a puff of smoke. "Well… that went better than expected."
He glanced at Aoi. "By the way, Kaien's stable. Out of critical condition. Figured you'd want to know."
A faint smile flickered across Aoi's face — real, small, but there.Idris noticed, his brows lifting slightly. That's new, he thought. His gaze shifted toward Kazuo, who was yawning with a dazed grin. Did this boy actually change him? he wondered. Whatever he said, it had some impact.
Idris snapped his fingers. "Oh right—almost forgot. You got a pile of postcards."
"Postcards?"
"Your usual fan club," Idris said, deadpan. "They begged to visit you. I had to stop a stampede."
Kazuo groaned dramatically. "Of course you get all the attention. Where are my postcards?"
Idris smirked. "There was a red-haired guy trying to sneak in to see you. I had to send him away before he got us all in trouble. Said he was your friend."
Kazuo's eyes lit up. "Rei?"
Idris nodded. "Yeah. I told him what happened. He just laughed and said, 'That's so typical of him. Tell that idiot he owes me lunch for making me worry.'"
"That Rei… I can't wait to see him and gramps again."
Before the moment could settle, another voice called from the doorway.
"Not so fast, Kazu."
Setsuna strolled in, grinning, a bag of rice crackers in hand. "Winner's ceremony first. Then you can celebrate."
"Captain!" Kazuo beamed.
"Here—eat."
Kazuo didn't argue; he just tore the bag open and munched happily.
Aoi watched. Setsuna turned to him with a sly grin. "You made my student suffer like hell. Thanks for that."
Aoi blinked. Not sure what to make of it.
Setsuna laughed. "Honestly? I like you. Drop by sometime. Spar with him again — keep the idiot humble."
Idris muttered, "You just want an excuse to skip training."
"I would never," Setsuna said with mock offense.
Aoi chuckled — a quiet, genuine sound that made all three freeze.Then, for the first time, they all smiled together.
Kazuo looked up mid-bite. "Hey, Captain, where are Sora and Tetsu?"
Setsuna sighed. "Ran some errands. But I couldn't shake her off."
He pointed behind him.
Standing awkwardly in the doorway was Lyria from Shiranamis Squad.
"You again?" Kazuo blinked.
Lyria straightened, cheeks faintly pink. "I… just came to congratulate you. Since your victory technically reflects on my squad, I suppose."
"Uh… thanks?" Kazuo scratched his head.
She stared at him, her face flushing deeper. "Idiot! Don't ever make me this worried again!"
"I'm… sorry? I guess?"
He hesitated, then smiled softly. "You've always been there after my fights, haven't you? Thanks… for that."
Her eyes widened. For a second, she looked almost speechless.Then her face turned crimson. "I—shut up, you fool!" she stammered, and stormed out.
Kazuo tilted his head. "What… just happened?"
Setsuna grinned. "You're a moron. That's what happened."
Kazuo laughed weakly, the warmth of the room washing over him — for the first time in a long while, it felt like peace.
The fighting's over, he thought, a small, tired smile curling at his lips. I can finally relax. I can finally see Gramps and Rei again.
His eyes drifted shut, the ache in his body fading beneath a quiet sense of relief. I can't wait.
"Hey," Setsuna's voice broke through his thoughts. "No sleeping yet."
Kazuo groaned. "Captain, I literally just got comfortable…"
Setsuna leaned against the bedframe, arms folded, that teasing smirk never leaving his face. "You won — barely. Naturally, all thanks to my training, of course. But there's something that doesn't add up. Something I'm sure even Aoi noticed."
Aoi tilted his head slightly, still reclined in his bed. "Right… it's your magic."
"My magic?"
Aoi nodded weakly. "When you used your Arcane a second time, it caught me completely off guard. Most mages — even captains — can't muster enough power to cast a second Arcane. Only a handful in the capital can. And that final attack of yours, the one that clashed with my Esoteric Art—"
"The massive water shuriken," Kazuo said. "Yeah. I just… came up with it. Desperation, really. I needed something big enough to stop you."
Idris exhaled a thin line of smoke. "That spell was born from your standard technique, wasn't it? You amplified it. But what you created wasn't just big — it was strong enough to be considered Arcane-level on its own."
"What do you mean exactly?"
Setsuna stepped closer, his tone sharpening. "Remember what we established before — Water Magic, one of the original four elements, exists naturally in the world around you. You can draw it from the air, from vapor, from life itself."
Kazuo nodded slowly. "Right…"
"The problem," Setsuna continued, "isn't where your magic comes from — it's how much of it you can use in such a short time. Two Arcanes and that final attack? Anyone else would've burned out their spirit completely."
"Burned out?"
"Dead," Setsuna said flatly. "You know the source of magic — the soul, the spirit. The more you draw from it, the more it drains you. But somehow, you're different."
Idris nodded, tapping ash into a tray. "I've never seen anyone use that much power in one fight and live to talk about it. Either you're not ordinary… or your eyes and your magic are connected somehow."
Kazuo's eyes darkened with uncertainty. "So you think it's because of my eyes?"
He hesitated for a moment, thoughts flickering back. "Dr. Varyra said something similar… that my magic output was on par with the captains."
He looked down, his expression clouding. But it's strange, he thought. He also said luck was the smallest stat… yet I'm certain I only won because of luck.
His fingers tightened slightly against the sheets. Maybe his calculations aren't as reliable as he believes.
Setsuna shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. But whatever it is, don't push it. You've already defied what should've been possible."
"Then what should I do?"
"Stay humble," Setsuna said with a faint grin. "And don't use your full power unless it's necessary. Now that the tournament's over, there shouldn't be a reason to anyway."
Idris flicked his cigarette aside. "Rest while you can. Once you both recover, the Winner's Ceremony will begin."
Aoi leaned his head back with a quiet sigh, and Kazuo exhaled deeply, letting the silence stretch once more.
Outside, the day faded into evening — the palace settling into calm while the city below came alive again. The echoes of battle drifted into memory, replaced by the hum of ordinary life in the streets far beneath Yurelda's marble towers.
Down in the Lower Crescent, the world moved at its own pace.
The smell of stew filled the small wooden home, mixing with the faint crackle of the hearth. The flickering light cast soft gold across the walls — the kind of warmth that only old places remembered.
Rei sat cross-legged at the low table, lazily eating from a steaming bowl. Beside him, Lady Nekomaru, tail swaying like a pendulum, devoured her share from a smaller dish on the floor.
"Hey, slow down," Rei said with a mouthful, watching her. "You eat like you're paying rent."
The cat meowed, unimpressed, and kept eating.
Rei smirked, spooning another bite for himself. "Tch. Figures."
Footsteps creaked behind him. The curtain shifted, and Gramps appeared — stooped but steady, a glass of water in one hand. The light caught the edges of his gray hair and tired eyes, though his voice was calm as ever.
"You're back early," he said, setting the glass down beside Rei. "Have you seen that woman again?"
Rei paused mid-bite, glancing up. "No," he said slowly, shaking his head. "Ever since we talked about… you know — the Forest King — I haven't seen her again. Not once."
Gramps grunted softly, leaning against the doorframe. "Good. You know it's for the best."
Rei nodded, though he missed her. "Yeah. I know."
The old man studied him for a moment longer, then asked, "And what about Kazuo? Did you see him today?"
Rei sighed and set his spoon down. "No luck. Ever since that one-armed cigarette guy sent me away last time, I haven't even had the chance to get close again. But I'm sure Kazuo will come back soon. After all, he beat that lightning freak, didn't he?"
Gramps chuckled, the sound low and fond. "I know, I know. I heard the noise from halfway across the district." His gaze softened. "I'm just… excited, I suppose. Unlike you, I haven't seen him since the Hollow Veins incident."
Rei grinned faintly, pushing his empty bowl aside. "Then we'll just wait a little longer. He'll keep his promise. He always does."
Gramps hummed quietly, watching the small flame dance in the hearth.
Rei studied him for a moment. "You seem more worried than excited, old man."
Gramps exhaled softly and took a slow sip of water. "It's because you never know what will happen next — especially when he's still in the claws of the king." He paused, the firelight flickering across his tired eyes. "And besides, you know…"
He nodded before he could finish. "Yeah, I know. His eyes. His magic." He leaned back against the wall, voice quieter now. "Even after everything he's done, people will still be cautious — not knowing what to make of him. But I'm sure Kazuo will come through. He always does."
Lady Nekomaru jumped onto his lap and curled up, purring against the fading echoes of their words.