To grow stronger, rigorous training is essential.
Individual Training
Tatsuya's skill set didn't include clairvoyance, but he could achieve something close to it. This time, however, it wasn't his ability that led him to glimpse what Erika and the others were doing—it was pure coincidence.
"Hey!" Erika's voice snapped. "Your form's sloppy again!"
"Ow, damn it!" Leo groaned, rubbing his arm. "How many times do I have to tell you? Use your words before you swing! What's the point of having a mouth otherwise?"
"Maybe if you actually listened when I talked, I wouldn't have to!" Erika shot back.
"You think hitting me makes it sink in any better?" Leo muttered.
His protests, initially fiery, dwindled to a mumble before fading entirely. As the one being taught, he couldn't push back too hard. More than that, he felt the sting of frustration at his own inability to master the technique despite repeated lessons.
Erika sighed. "Alright, fine. Let's take a break."
She could sense Leo's self-directed disappointment, but she didn't see him as lacking. If anything, Erika understood better than most the grueling challenge of mastering a new skill.
"Here," she said, handing him a chilled but not icy glass of water. Sitting cross-legged on the dojo floor, Leo accepted it as Erika knelt formally in front of him.
"You were doing fine with the cloak," she said, her tone softer now. "Is this really that different?"
"You mean the Nine Schools Competition?" Leo replied, scratching his head. "That was more like ironing a shirt flat. A few wrinkles didn't matter as long as it worked as a shield. Plus, the fabric had a built-in spell to help with the stretching."
"There's supposed to be a support spell woven into this one too," Erika mused. "Maybe we should just ask Tatsuya for help?"
"No way," Leo said firmly. "Relying on Tatsuya this time defeats the whole point. If the spell's there, I just need to figure out how to activate it."
Erika's lips curved into a teasing, almost sultry smile. "Such a manly attitude."
Caught off guard, Leo averted his eyes, unable to muster a retort.
The Magic High School didn't follow a two-day weekend, so classes were held on Saturdays. Still, Tatsuya had made his way to Yakumo's temple that morning, and today, Miyuki accompanied him.
Yakumo had invited them to test a newly renovated training ground designed for "long-range targeting." For Tatsuya, who couldn't use the school's facilities—since employing Cloud Dispersal there was out of the question—the chance to practice shooting in a nearby location was a rare gift.
Miyuki, unlike Tatsuya, had no need to conceal her abilities, but as a club member, her access to the school's training grounds was limited. Moreover, her magic excelled at reshaping entire areas rather than pinpoint sniping, so she rarely devoted time to shooting practice. Tatsuya had dragged her along, but Miyuki followed with a radiant smile.
"—Eek! Take that!" Miyuki's voice rang out, fierce with her characteristic tenacity.
Even she, however, was pushed to her limits in the ninja's secret training ground, a setup far removed from the school's facilities. Sweat beaded at her temples, and her breaths came heavy as she struggled.
The square arena was rigged with countless holes across three walls and the ceiling, from which targets appeared in rapid succession—dozens at once, vanishing within a second. That alone would have been a challenge, but the stakes were higher: for every missed target, a barrage of mock bullets rained down. Miyuki, of course, blocked them all with magic, but juggling defense and offense left her footing unsteady. She'd stumbled and fallen multiple times already.
"Alright, stop!" Yakumo called.
"Well done," Tatsuya added.
Miyuki, collapsing to the floor in exhaustion, looked up sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Brother…"
As the machinery halted at Yakumo's signal, Tatsuya offered her a towel and pulled her to her feet with a gentle tug.
"Thank you," she murmured, brushing herself off.
"No injuries, I see," Tatsuya noted, his tone brisk but not unkind.
That was all he said before striding toward the center of the arena. His demeanor was curt, but Miyuki showed no trace of discontent. They weren't here to play, after all. If Tatsuya had fussed over her, Miyuki might have chided him herself, though such a scenario was unthinkable.
Tatsuya raised his trusted CAD to chest level, elbows bent in a ready stance. The moment Miyuki stepped off the floor, the training sequence began without warning. Spherical targets materialized across the three walls—and in an instant, they crumbled to dust. Twelve targets, obliterated in a single move.
Before he could catch his breath, another wave appeared—twenty-four targets across the walls and ceiling. Without so much as adjusting his aim, Tatsuya fired, his CAD steady. Dodging the falling synthetic resin powder, he spun, raised his right hand, and squeezed the trigger again.
New targets filled the gaps left by the disintegrating spheres, smaller and faster. The frequency of his shots doubled, then tripled, but not a single penalty bullet was fired. The targets' reserves depleted without a miss.
"Brother, that was incredible!" Miyuki exclaimed, her eyes shining.
Yakumo chuckled. "A perfect clear, huh? Still not challenging enough?"
"It's my specialty," Tatsuya said with a shrug. "Though it was closer than it looked. Who designed that devilish algorithm, anyway?"
"The control system came from Kazama," Yakumo replied. "But Sanada's the one who built it."
Tatsuya let out a low growl, picturing the face of the Independent Magic-Equipped Battalion's cunning technical officer, whose genial smile masked a devilish streak.
"Still," Miyuki said, tilting her head, "when did you increase your simultaneous targeting to thirty-six, Brother? Three months ago, you said twenty-four was your limit."
"That's because these targets don't shoot back—or rather, they wait for me to shoot first," Tatsuya explained. "In a real fight with no delays, twenty-four's still my max."
"Don't be so modest!" Miyuki protested. "Even with targets that wait, I can only manage sixteen at once. You're amazing, Brother."
"Come on, flattery won't get you anywhere," Tatsuya teased. "You can affect a wider area with your magic than I can, and you do it while keeping an eye on me. In terms of control, you're probably better than I am."
"If you say that," Miyuki countered, her tone playful yet pointed, "then isn't it true that you're far stronger than me, capable of interfering at much deeper levels?"
Their banter, almost like a riddle, was cut short by Yakumo's wry smile. "Hey, you two. Walls have ears, you know."
To an outsider, their conversation would be cryptic, but Yakumo knew the truth behind their words. Tatsuya and Miyuki exchanged a glance, their expressions sheepish, before breaking into matching awkward smiles.
"Shall we head back up?" Yakumo suggested.
With training concluded, Tatsuya and Miyuki followed him out of the underground arena, returning to the surface.
And so, Yakumo makes a rare appearance.
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