Classes at the academy usually followed a strict schedule, but every three months the school held a special event for students to unwind. This time, it was a grand ball. For once, everyone could set aside their uniforms and come dressed in whatever they liked, with permission to invite any boy or girl to dance.
"Normally, this is when I'd be flooded with invitations," Tomoji Ren sighed dramatically. "I'd have my pick of partners. But after you defeated Styx and the others, Sora, not a single guy dares come near me anymore."
Sora gave a smug grin. "Heh."
"Don't laugh, you idiot!" Tomoji glared. "Because of you, I probably won't get asked at all this time!"
"So…" she leaned closer, her chest nearly brushing his face. "You're going to be my dance partner instead, got it?"
"Well, I'd be honored," Sora said, setting his book down with an amused shrug. "Problem is—I don't know how to dance."
"Hah! That's basic etiquette for any proper mage. Oh, right—you're from another world," Tomoji remembered mid-sentence, smacking her forehead lightly.
"Yeah, but oddly enough, I feel right at home here," Sora said with a smile.
"Then I'll teach you," Tomoji said confidently.
"No."
Both turned in surprise. Louise had stood up abruptly beside Sora's desk, her expression serious.
"Sora is my familiar. Teaching him how to dance is my responsibility as his master," she declared with righteous conviction, as though she'd just discovered an ironclad rule.
"I was the one who offered first," Tomoji protested, folding her arms.
Sora looked between the two of them. "Uh… how about you both—"
"No!" they shouted in unison.
"You can only choose one," Louise insisted.
"And choose wisely," Tomoji added threateningly.
With both girls leaning closer from each side, Sora felt trapped between two storms. In a flash of instinct, he turned around, grabbed Tabasa's hand, and announced, "Tabasa! Please teach me how to dance instead!"
"Eh?" Both Louise and Tomoji froze mid-gawk.
Tabasa blinked up at him, then gave a slight nod. "…Alright."
And so, it was decided—Tabasa would teach Sora to dance.
That afternoon, after classes ended, Sora put on the formal outfit Louise had picked out for him and headed for the girls' dormitory. Since boys weren't exactly allowed inside, he made his own way up—backing up a few meters, running, leaping, and scaling the wall until he gripped the ledge of Tabasa's second-floor window. He hoisted himself up and swung neatly inside.
He landed silently—only to find Tabasa in the middle of changing.
Her petite figure looked almost carved from ice, her expression calm and unreadable. Even after noticing Sora enter, she continued buttoning her dress like nothing unusual had happened. She wore a snow-white gown lined with icy blue trim—simple yet impossibly graceful.
"You're here," Tabasa said in her usual quiet tone.
"…Yeah. I'm here," Sora managed, still trying not to stare too obviously.
"Then let's begin." She extended her small, pale hand.
Sora took it. Her hand was soft, cool, and lighter than air. He placed his other hand gently on her waist.
"One, two," she counted softly, guiding him through the steps.
Under her steady rhythm—one, two, one, two—they began to move across the room. Sora was strong and agile, but utterly hopeless as a dancer. Again and again, he stepped on Tabasa's feet throughout the afternoon practice.
She never complained. She didn't even flinch.
By the time Sora finally grasped the dance's rhythm, her small feet were noticeably swollen.
"I think that's enough," Tabasa said quietly, withdrawing her hand.
Sora frowned and knelt in front of her. "Tabasa…" He carefully took hold of her foot. "Let me take care of that."
She jerked slightly in surprise, but didn't stop him.
He slipped off her shoe slowly, revealing a delicate white foot—bruised and tender. Guilt pinched his chest.
"Sorry. This might sting a little."
He pulled out a small vial—an all-purpose healing tincture that Tomoji had given him earlier. Uncorking it, he poured a few drops onto his fingers and began spreading the cool liquid over the swollen skin.
"Ah…" Tabasa gasped softly, her toes curling as Sora's hands brushed over them. The mix of chilling and feverish sensations made her face flush faintly pink.
Sora smiled gently. "Almost done. Try not to move."
He helped her to the bed, sitting her down. "Don't step on the ground yet. Give it a few minutes."
Tabasa nodded and picked up a book, her cheeks still warm. She lowered her eyes, not wanting him to see.
Sora didn't leave—he simply sat beside her, glancing curiously at her book.
"You really love reading, huh, Tabasa?" he said with a grin. Their hair brushed lightly as he leaned nearer.
The Application of Compound Magic, he read the title silently.
"That's a tough one. You're amazing, Tabasa," he said sincerely.
Then, before even realizing what he was doing, Sora leaned closer, pressing her gently back onto the bed.
"Sorry, Tabasa. You're just… too cute."
Her wide eyes met his—blue and startled—and then he kissed her.
Then again.
And again.
Time blurred into the warmth of the moment.
When they finally parted, Sora whispered, "You'll be my partner at the ball tonight."
Tabasa blinked, visibly flustered.
"Since you're the one who taught me my first dance, I want to share my first dance with you too," he said with a small smile. "See you tonight, Tabasa."
Before she could answer, he waved, jumped straight out the open window, and rolled smoothly onto the ground below.
As he walked away, Tabasa sat silently, touching her lips—still cool, still trembling from his countless kisses.
By evening, the grand hall had been transformed. The long dining tables were gone, the chandeliers glowed softly, red drapes hung along the walls, and a band played an elegant tune on the stage.
Students and teachers filled the floor, swirling and laughing to the rhythm of the music.
Some stood awkwardly by the walls. Others, like Headmaster Osman, clearly couldn't find willing partners.
"Why? Why is no one dancing with me? Modo, Modo…" He glanced at his tiny mouse familiar. "What do you think? Pink or pure white?"
"Go to hell, Headmaster!" the female professor shouted, yanking her wand from her stocking and thwacking him hard enough to send sparks flying.
On the sidelines, a few teachers like Professor Kurubel watched silently, not the type to join the festivities.
Louise, meanwhile, stood under the light in a snow-white gown that left her shoulders bare. A string of gems shimmered at her neck, her long peach-colored hair coiled neatly behind her head. She looked so radiant that even the boys who mocked her daily could barely breathe. Many tried to ask her to dance—but she turned them all down without hesitation.
Sora… why isn't he here yet?
Across the hall, Tomoji stood near the wall in a tight black dress that hugged her curves. No one dared ask her either—but plenty of eyes couldn't help wandering in her direction, earning a few jealous glares from their partners.
You promised to dance with me, Sora, she thought, biting her lip.
A sudden stir spread through the hall. Heads turned—
There he was.
Sora entered wearing a sleek black suit, perfectly tailored. At his side walked Tabasa, delicate and calm in her pale blue and white dress. They held hands.
"T–Tabasa?" Tomoji blurted out. Even Louise's heart sank. Her? Of all people?
Sora led Tabasa to the center of the floor. She gave a tiny nod. The two began to dance.
Their movements were smooth and sure, perfectly synchronized. Each turn, each lift of the hand or step of the foot, flowed naturally—as if they'd been partners for years.
When the music ended, the applause was thunderous.
Even Louise and Tomoji had to admit—they danced beautifully.
Sora smiled down at Tabasa and escorted her off the floor. She thanked him softly, sat on a bench, and opened her book, retreating again into her quiet world.
Sora looked around.
Louise and Tomoji were both standing stiffly now—each pretending not to care, yet clearly waiting.
He walked toward them.
Who will it be? Me… or her? they both wondered nervously.
"May I have the honor," Sora said at last, "of this dance, lovely and charming Louise?"
Louise's heart soared. "Well… if you insist, I suppose it can't be helped," she said, holding out her hand.
Sora smiled and kissed it lightly before leading her gently onto the dance floor.
Tomoji glared after them, grumbling. "He danced with her first? Since when are they so close?"
She downed a cup of punch in irritation and slumped beside Tabasa, who calmly kept reading.
When the song ended, Sora brought Louise back to her seat, then turned toward Tomoji. He bowed slightly.
"Beautiful Tomoji, though I'm a bit late, will you allow me this dance?"
She folded her arms, pouting. "Hmph. Took you long enough."
Sora waited patiently, but didn't drop his hand.
After a long pause, Tomoji sighed. "Fine. You're lucky I'm in a good mood."
As they danced, she leaned close and murmured, "You'd better invite me first next time. Got it?"
"Yes, ma'am," Sora replied with a wry grin. "Next time, I'll make a clone."
Tomoji rolled her eyes but smiled anyway.
When they finished, Sora barely had a moment to rest before several other girls surrounded him.
"Dance with me next!"
"No, my turn!"
"Mr. Knight, please!"
Tomoji and Louise glared daggers from nearby. Tabasa had already cast a quiet soundproofing spell around herself so she could keep reading in peace.
Sora raised his hands. "I'm sorry, ladies. I'm… actually a little tired. Thank you for asking, though."
"Aww…"
"Really?"
"So disappointing…"
The crowd dispersed reluctantly.
Sora dropped into a chair between Louise and Tomoji, loosening his bow tie and taking a sip of punch. "Phew… dancing's more exhausting than fighting."
"Tired from dancing with me already?" Louise teased, arching a brow.
"Or is it me you're tired of?" Tomoji said coldly, crossing her arms.
Sora laughed. "No, no, not like that. Honestly, I'm really happy. Dancing with Tabasa, Louise, and Tomoji—it made the night perfect. Next time, let's all dance together."
His words hit both girls squarely in the heart. Their cheeks flushed, eyes darting away shyly.
Only Tabasa, quietly reading nearby, seemed untouched—though if one looked closely, the faintest smile curved her lips.
And just like that, Sora's first academy ball ended in perfect, bittersweet harmony.