The late afternoon sun spilled gold across the stone pathways of Asterblume. Mana-lamps hadn't turned on yet, and the soft breeze tugged gently at loose sleeves and bandages as four very exhausted students limped their way out of the academy infirmary.
Their shadows stretched long on the ground, mirroring their collective emotional burnout.
"We're so screwed," Yuxin muttered, voice flat but filled with existential dread.
No one disagreed.
They walked in silence for a few steps, their shoes clicking softly against the polished path.
Yuxin rubbed her forehead like she was physically pushing back a mental breakdown.
"Okay. Listen. I don't even care if we win. Like, sure, gold medal would be nice, confetti, whatever. But if we don't at least make Top. Three. I swear I'm gonna start flipping tables."
"You're always flipping something," Blanche noted calmly.
"Because I'm always pissed!!"
Yuxin spun around to face them, walking backward now, eyes slightly wide.
"Do you guys understand what happens if I fail this semester? Like—academically? I can't afford another 'oops we got distracted by faksi warfare' week!"
Ruka, who was walking slightly behind everyone, flinched at the volume.
"I—I think I left a book in the infirmary," she whispered. No one heard her.
Blanche sighed, brushing back a loose strand of hair.
"I understand your concern. Truly. But panicking won't help us strategize."
"I'm not panicking," Yuxin snapped. "I'm rage-preparing. There's a difference."
Vila, who had been quiet this whole time, chose that moment to speak—calmly. As always.
"Alternative solution: bribe the academy."
The entire group stopped.
Yuxin stared.
"...What?"
Blanche blinked like someone had just slapped her across the soul.
"I beg your pardon?"
"We pool resources. Approach an administrative figure. Propose an exchange. Results adjusted in our favor."
"You mean cheating," Blanche said, tone horrified.
"I mean investing."
Yuxin snorted.
"Okay I'm listening."
"Absolutely not," Blanche snapped.
Vila looked at her.
"You would rather die on the moral high ground than pass?"
"Yes," Blanche said firmly.
"That explains a lot," Yuxin mumbled.
Blanche threw her hands up.
"There are institutional protocols. Ethical standards. Academic norms. The code of conduct!"
"You sound like the school handbook had a baby with a paladin," Yuxin muttered.
Ruka, trailing behind like a sad paper bag in the wind, finally spoke.
"Maybe we should just… do our best?"
No one responded.
"Like… study a little? Practice formations? Believe in ourselves?" she added hopefully.
"Shut up, Ruka," Yuxin said, but there was no bite in it.
Ruka deflated like a small balloon.
They resumed walking.
A flock of birds flew overhead.
Somewhere far off, a bell chimed.
It should've been peaceful. But in the silence, the weight of pressure grew again.
Blanche looked ahead, brow furrowed.
"We don't need to cheat. We just need to stop arguing long enough to find an actual system. We need structure."
"And muscle," Yuxin muttered.
"And timing," Vila added.
"And actual sleep," Ruka whispered.
They reached the edge of the main courtyard. Students were scattered around in casual conversations, some doing light sparring, some just eating mana buns.
They were normal.
Relaxed.
Blissfully unaware that four half-destroyed teenagers were currently spiraling into tournament hell.
"Alright," Yuxin sighed. "If we're not cheating, we need a new plan."
"Agreed," Blanche said. "We'll start training tomorrow morning. Focused sparring. Real drills. No more running in blind."
"We never run in blind," Yuxin protested.
"You literally ran straight at the dummy and screamed 'Eat this.'"
"It was a strategy."
"It failed."
"Shut up."
Vila nodded once.
"I will draw up possible team formations tonight. Based on type synergy and elemental affinity."
"Good," Blanche said. "We'll regroup after dinner. I'll request a training slot."
"I guess I'll… prep snacks?" Ruka offered quietly.
"Don't poison us," Yuxin muttered.
"I wasn't going to…"
They finally reached the dormitory steps.
Each of them paused, looking at the horizon as the sun dipped lower.
Exhausted.
Bruised.
Mentally unwell.
But still standing.
"We're gonna survive this," Blanche said quietly.
Yuxin scoffed.
"Bold of you to assume."
"If not for us," Vila added, "then for the soup."
Yuxin stared at her.
"You're lucky I'm too tired to kick you."
They all laughed.
Well—Yuxin snorted, Ruka giggled, Blanche smiled, and Vila blinked approvingly.
It was a win.
Kind of.
The cafeteria at twilight was quieter than usual. The main crowd had already filtered out, leaving only the late diners, a few tired-looking staff, and the occasional flicker of crystal lamps overhead.
Four trays sat on one table, half-full, mostly cold.
Yuxin was stabbing her food with a fork like it had personally insulted her.
Blanche sat opposite her, posture immaculate as ever, though her eyes were clearly glazed over from fatigue.
Vila mechanically chewed on something green that no one dared to identify.
Ruka was slowly sipping on a cup of soup with both hands, like it was the only thing anchoring her to reality.
"So," Yuxin muttered between angry stabs, "are we actually gonna talk strategy, or just slowly die in this cafeteria?"
"We're recovering," Blanche replied, calm but sharp.
"This is called taking a breather."
"Feels more like a slow-motion panic attack."
"It's only a panic attack if we lose again tomorrow," Vila said flatly.
"Which is likely."
Yuxin slammed her fork down, exasperated.
"Great. Optimism from the queen of emotional range."
Blanche rubbed her temples.
"Look, we need synergy. We have strength, we have skill, but we don't have cohesion. That's the problem."
"The problem," Yuxin growled, "is that none of us know how to shut up and just move together."
Vila raised an eyebrow.
"I function perfectly well."
"You function like a stone-faced lunatic who thinks soup is a lifestyle."
"Soup is—"
"—Do not finish that sentence," Yuxin hissed.
Ruka, sensing incoming disaster part 11, softly put her spoon down and cleared her throat.
"Um… what if we just… ask someone?"
Everyone looked at her.
"Like… for help? Just for the team coordination part. Not the fighting. We're good at that. Kinda. Sorta."
Blanche frowned slightly.
"Ask… who exactly?"
Ruka leaned toward Yuxin and whispered something under her breath, barely audible to the rest.
Yuxin blinked.
Paused.
Then tilted her head with a skeptical grunt.
"...Oh. That guy."
Vila looked curious.
"Who?"
Yuxin didn't elaborate. She just leaned back in her chair and stared off to the side.
"Yeah. I've seen him around."
Blanche narrowed her eyes.
"You know him?"
"Not really. Just... you look at him and know he's weird," Yuxin muttered.
"Not in the dangerous way. In the what-the-hell-is-he-doing-losing-on-purpose kind of way."
"His name is Aria Cross," Ruka said softly.
"He's… different. But I think he knows how to fight as a team."
"Isn't that the guy with the... weird fire sword?" Blanche asked.
Ruka nodded.
"And the guy who always loses. Intentionally."
"Who does that?" Yuxin scoffed.
"He's calm," Ruka said. "Like… unnaturally calm. Doesn't argue. Doesn't brag. I think he just… watches."
"That sounds suspicious," Vila commented.
"It's creepy, yeah," Yuxin admitted. "But also... maybe worth a shot?"
Silence again. This time not from frustration—but from actual thought.
The idea settled in.
Aria Cross. The quiet fighter. The man who never won.
Yet, somehow, people always remembered him.
Not because he dominated.
But because he endured.
"You're serious?" Blanche finally asked.
Yuxin shrugged.
"Got a better plan, Lady Equinox?"
Blanche didn't answer.
Outside, the breeze picked up, carrying the faint sound of bells and mana pulses.
The tournament wasn't waiting.
And maybe… they shouldn't either.