The light that filtered through the tall windows was warmer now, late afternoon settling softly over the infirmary. The battle's chaos had already faded into memory — bruises turned to dull aches, silence replacing the roar of the crowd.
Aoi stood near Kazuo's bed, his coat freshly pressed, his sword slung over one shoulder. His movements were as composed as ever, though a faint stiffness betrayed the lingering damage beneath the surface.
"You recover slow," he said without looking at him.
Kazuo smirked from where he sat, leaning back against the headboard. "Or maybe you just heal too fast. You nobles get all the good medicine."
Aoi turned his head slightly. "We both get the same treatment. You are so dramatic."
Kazuo chuckled dryly.
That earned the faintest curve of a smile from Aoi — rare, but real."Not yet," he said quietly. "Next time, I'll be the one to beat you."
He adjusted the strap on his arm and started toward the door, then stopped. His voice lowered, less formal now.
"That thing you said — about accepting that we never had a choice… that we just have to do everything we can to survive."He looked over his shoulder, his tone softer than usual. "I might finally understand what you meant."
Kazuo met his gaze, faint surprise flickering across his face. But he did not say a word.
Aoi gave a brief nod, and for a heartbeat, the air between them felt almost like friendship.
Idris was waiting by the doorway, cigarette between his fingers, the faint smell of smoke curling through the air. He didn't speak — only gave a brief nod to his subordinate before turning away.
Aoi followed after him, stopping for a heartbeat to glance back. "See you at the winners' ceremony," he said.
The trio departed, their footsteps fading down the hall. The room settled into quiet again, sunlight stretching long across the polished floor.
Moments later, the door opened with far less grace.
The door slammed open with a bang that made the room's quiet jump.
"Finally we can visit you!" Sora's voice filled the air before anyone could breathe. She stormed in, tail flicking behind her, ears twitching with irritation. "Our Ice Emperor here used us as delivery guys, so we couldn't even see you sooner!"
She threw a sharp look over her shoulder at Setsuna, who stood in the doorway, unimpressed as ever, rice cracker in hand.
Then, turning back to Kazuo, her expression brightened instantly."Kazuo! You did it! All that training actually paid off! You even kept up with him without Aqua Step — well, until he went all Esoteric Art on you!"
Kazuo sighed, half smiling. "You really don't know how to knock, do you?"
Tetsu entered behind her, pushing up his glasses, a stack of notes in hand. "I'm glad you're not dead," he said plainly, "but seriously, that last attack — the giant water shuriken — that was beyond theoretical range. How did you even generate so much magic?"
Sora rolled her eyes. "He's a fighter, not a math equation."
"Thank god for that," came another voice — calm, smooth, unmistakable.
Setsuna strolled in, half-finished rice cracker in hand, his expression caught somewhere between pride and boredom. "You're the talk of the capital," he said, crunching lazily. "But don't flatter yourself — people are praising me more, since I'm the one who trained you."
Kazuo smirked. "That's what matters, huh?"
"Exactly," Setsuna said, taking another bite.
Sora plopped down on the bed beside Kazuo. "You were incredible out there. I mean, until he knocked you halfway through the arena, but still incredible."
"Why does that sound like an insult?"
"I'm glad this whole tournament is finally over," Tetsu said, adjusting his glasses with a tired sigh.
"Yeah," Kazuo murmured. "Me too."
For a brief moment, the room was filled with laughter — light, careless, and painfully human. The kind that only came after surviving something meant to break you.
"Feels weird," he said quietly. "No crowd. No pressure. Just… quiet."
Setsuna's gaze softened. "Get used to it while you can."
He stretched, brushing the last crumbs of his rice cracker from his vest. "By the way, your new clothes arrived. Finally."
Kazuo blinked. "Oh right mine got destoryed...again."
"Can't have the capital's latest sensation showing up at the ceremony looking like a drowned cat."
Tetsu glanced up from his notes. "Speaking of that—Kazuo, you probably need at least another day of rest, right? The winner's ceremony is scheduled for the day after tomorrow."
Kazuo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "A day sounds generous. I feel like I got hit by a mountain."
Before anyone could reply, something slammed against the window.
"Ouch!"
Everyone froze.
A second later, the glass swung open and a figure tumbled through, landing in an ungraceful heap beside the bed. Dust scattered into the air.
The man on the floor groaned, then looked up — spiky red hair, familiar grin already returning as if nothing had happened. "Well," he said, surveying the room full of stunned faces, "this is awkward."
Setsuna blinked once, unimpressed. "Apparently gravity still works."
"Rei!" Kazuo shouted.
Rei ignored him completely. "I saw that smokey guy leave, so I thought it was finally safe to sneak in."
"Smokey guy?" Setsuna asked.
Sora groaned, crossing her arms. "Oh, please. You know exactly who he means. The only smokey guy you know is Captain Idris."
Setsuna gave a lazy shrug. "I pretend for formality."
"Pretend for—what does that even—ugh, never mind," Sora muttered, starting a fresh round of bickering with him.
Their voices faded into background noise as Rei dusted himself off and stepped closer to Kazuo's bed, his grin softening into something real.
"You look terrible," he said, smirking faintly.
Kazuo laughed, the sound raw but genuine. "You're one to talk. You fell through a window."
"Yeah, but I made an entrance," Rei said proudly.
Setsuna raised a hand lazily from across the room. "For the record, I allow it. But make it quick — I don't want another noble writing me reports."
Rei gave him a mock salute. "Yes, sir, my deepest apologies."
Then he turned back to Kazuo, expression easing. "I couldn't miss checking on you. Heard you nearly got sliced in half out there."
"Almost," Kazuo said, smiling faintly. "You should've seen the other guy."
"Oh, I did," Rei replied. "You both looked like death warmed over. Kinda inspiring, actually."
Kazuo chuckled. "Coming from you, that's a miracle."
"Shut up," Rei said, laughing, and the two clasped forearms — a quiet, wordless gesture that said more than anything else could.
But then Rei pulled him into a brief, tight hug. For once, his voice carried no jokes, only relief."I'm so damn glad you're alive," he muttered. "Gramps is waiting for you, you know."
Kazuo smiled, returning the gesture with what little strength he had left. "Soon," he said quietly. "I'll be home soon."
Rei leaned back, grin already returning. "Good. You owe me lunch. And a trip to the hot springs. Oh—and I finally trained Lady Nekomaru to do a flip for treats."
"No kidding?"
"Yep. Nearly broke my back trying, but she's a genius. Way more disciplined than you."
From the corner, Tetsu adjusted his glasses without looking up. "I'd pay money to see that.
Kazuo laughed softly, shaking his head. "Guess I really have no excuses now."
"Exactly. So hurry up and heal, before the cat replaces you."
In the background, Sora and Setsuna were still arguing about semantics.
The laughter lingered longer than expected.
But all moments end.
Rei eventually stepped back. "Alright. I better head out before trouble comes."
He turned back to Kazuo. "See you soon, alright? And don't make me come through another window."
"I'll try," Kazuo said.
The two shared one last nod before he vanished.
The room quieted again. The moment held, warm and fleeting, before the day finally moved on.
By the evening, the infirmary was empty. Kazuo stood at the window, flexing his arm and feeling no pain. The bruises had faded, the exhaustion had lifted. He was whole again.
Tomorrow, he would return to the dorms. Back to something like normalcy.
The Winner's Ceremonyloomed just beyond the horizon, a celebration wrapped in gold and expectation. And with it came the weight of the wish — the single promise granted to the victor of the Tournament.
Kazuo exhaled slowly, watching the last light fade beyond the city walls.
He still didn't know how he would use it.