The wind around them sharpened, reacting to the surge of spirit in the air.
Across from him, Yuzuru watched Gabriel without any change in expression.
"Evaluation: proposal is intriguing."
Her orange hair fluttered softly within the current.
"Note: the presence of a neutral third party may increase the efficiency of determining Yamai superiority."
A fraction of a second passed.
"Conditional approval. Yuzuru wishes to hear the contract details."
"Interesting…" Gabriel said calmly. "However… a contract is not something to be spoken lightly."
His faint smile didn't fade—in fact, it seemed a touch more alive, like someone who had finally found worthy entertainment.
He raised his right hand.
Snap.
The small sound was swallowed by the storm—yet for a split second, the wind itself seemed silenced.
The pale mist cloaking his body descended, flowing like thin liquid through the air, then spreading outward to form a geometric white magic circle beneath his feet.
One layer.
Two.
Three.
The circles layered over one another, rotating slowly in opposite directions, filled with runic letters that were nearly impossible to comprehend.
Each line looked like a fusion of ancient Latin script, old Britannic tongue, and fragments of German—a kind of language that had never truly been born in this world.
The light wasn't blinding.
But it felt… deep.
Like staring at the night sky for too long.
Thin mist continued to spiral around him, moving in rhythm with the circles.
Gabriel slowly lowered his hand.
"State the contents of the contract."
Though Gabriel called it a contract, and its manifestation looked utterly convincing—it was, in truth, nothing more than momentary improvisation.
A beautiful image without meaning.
Nonsense wrapped in cosmic aesthetics, polished just enough to fool anyone who saw it.
Including the two Spirits before him.
Kaguya stepped forward in the air, her hair swirling as the wind current pulled at it.
Her smile brimmed with confidence.
"We are Spirits born from the same root," she declared grandly. "Yet separated by the hand of fate, forced to walk different paths, bearing twin existences that reject yet cannot be severed—"
"Summary," Yuzuru cut in flatly.
She floated a little closer.
"Objective: become the judge. Decide which Yamai is the true one."
Kaguya pointed at Yuzuru at once. "Hey! Don't interrupt the climax of my epic narration!"
"Efficiency takes priority."
Gabriel raised his right hand again.
The pale magic circles beneath his feet stopped rotating.
A fraction of a second later—their light changed.
The pale white slowly deepened into red, like embers beginning to glow beneath ash.
The air around them grew heavier.
Those meaningless runes shone brighter, as if they had truly become "active."
Then, three pairs of slender, wing-shaped symbols made of crimson light appeared on the backs of Kaguya's, Yuzuru's… and Gabriel's right hands.
The marks were neither hot nor cold.
But they felt… present.
Gabriel looked at the two of them, his eyes hidden behind white bangs.
"That is the symbol that binds our fates," he said calmly. "As long as that mark remains, this meeting is no longer a coincidence."
The wind turned slowly around them, as if the world itself were agreeing with a lie too beautiful to deny.
***
Several hours had passed since that "contract" was formed. Now they were inside an old theater building.
Dust blanketed the audience seats, torn red curtains hung crookedly, and a few stage lights still flickered on—tired, like witnesses from the past that refused to die.
Sunlight poured through holes in the roof, illuminating drifting dust particles until they looked like tiny constellations suspended in the air.
On the stage, the two storm Spirits were… acting.
Kaguya and Yuzuru wore mock armor they had shaped from Reiryoku.
Gabriel sat alone in the very front row of the judges' seats, legs crossed, chin resting on the back of his hand. From behind his white bangs, he watched with an absurd level of seriousness that was entirely unnecessary.
As if the fate of the cosmos were at stake.
Kaguya stepped forward with a dramatic stomp, a wooden sword raised high in her hand.
"Kuhaha!" her theatrical laughter echoed. "Yuzuru! With the sword Dunkler Sturm, forged by the Lady of the Lake, your defeat has already been written!"
She swung the blade in a wide arc, a small gust of Reiryoku still forming, making the torn curtain behind her whip wildly.
Yuzuru looked at her without any change in expression.
"Mockery: ha. Acting volume excessive."
She slowly raised her wooden sword, straight and steady, then took a single step forward, the floor creaking beneath her foot.
"Fact: destiny cannot be cut. Only guided. Yuzuru's blade is born from the prayers of sky and earth. Darkness cannot oppose the light."
Kaguya staggered back half a step.
"Guh… your lines are getting longer!"
"Evaluation: script quality improving."
They stared at each other—then moved.
Not with the speed of Spirits.
Not like lightning from a storm.
But at human speed… with exaggerated motions like actors in a classical stage play.
Their wooden swords clashed.
Tok!
The sound of wood striking wood echoed through the empty theater.
Kaguya spun far too wide, her prop cloak flaring dramatically.
Yuzuru parried with minimal, efficient movements—almost boring… if not for the thin currents of wind that always followed each of her strikes.
"Kuh—receive my finishing move!" Kaguya shouted, jumping far higher than any normal stage would allow.
"Analysis: jump not realistic for a human."
"THIS IS THEATER, NOT A DOCUMENTARY!"
They landed at the same time, swords locked, faces close, breaths colliding.
In the audience seats, Gabriel watched without blinking.
His gaze was sharp.
Calm.
As if he were truly weighing who stood superior. Somehow… that made him enjoy his role as "judge of fate" a little more than he probably should.
Not long after, the stage duel came to an end.
Dust still drifted in the air, their wooden swords parted, and the echo of their final steps slowly faded into the hollow theater.
Now it was the "judge's" turn.
Kaguya spun dramatically, the tip of her wooden sword pointing toward the audience seats.
"O Judge, Stiller Nebel of the abyss of emptiness," she declared loudly, "the time has come for you to fulfill your duty!"
Gabriel gave a small nod.
He stayed silent for a few seconds, as if genuinely weighing the fate of the world based on the performance he had just witnessed. His white bangs hid his eyes, his expression calm—far too calm for what was, in truth, only a play.
On stage, Kaguya and Yuzuru stood still.
For once, there was no wind, no teasing.
Just two Spirits waiting for a verdict.
"Kaguya," Gabriel said at last, his voice low and even, "flawless acting. Full ten points."
Kaguya's face lit up instantly.
"Of course—"
"However," Gabriel cut in calmly, "excessive performance. Five points deducted."
Kaguya's triumphant smile froze halfway.
Yuzuru slightly turned her face aside.
"Mocking: theatrical tragedy. Energy spent on style, not substance."
"What did you say?!" Kaguya snapped, turning sharply. "That is called artistic expression, you emotionless robot!"
Gabriel shifted his finger toward Yuzuru.
"Yuzuru. Stable and consistent performance. Ten points."
Kaguya held her breath.
"However," Gabriel continued flatly, "expression too flat. Five points deducted."
Yuzuru blinked slowly.
"Self-evaluation: factory-default face has become an unexpected weakness."
Kaguya immediately grinned wide.
"Ha! See? The world does not favor a face without a soul!"
"Counterpoint: the world also does not require an emotional explosion every three seconds."
Gabriel crossed his arms.
"Which means… a draw."
Silence lingered for a moment.
A small wind began to swirl across the stage again.
Kaguya clicked her tongue, then flicked her hair back.
"There is no other choice… very well! If this stage cannot decide fate, then we proceed to the next stage!"
Yuzuru gave a small nod.
"Agreement. The judge's scoring system is questionable, but rules are rules."
Both of them turned toward Gabriel.
The pale-mist judge only offered a faint smile.
Their performance… clearly wasn't over yet.
The small wind that had been circling the stage gradually calmed.
The torn curtain stopped fluttering.
Dust drifted down again like tired stars losing their shine.
Kaguya planted her wooden sword into the stage floor.
"If the stage cannot decide fate…"
She pointed toward the outside of the building.
"…then we take this battle into the real world!"
Yuzuru nodded once.
"Agreement. Theory: human life evaluates existence through daily activities."
She looked at Gabriel.
"Conclusion: the next phase is… nutrient consumption."
Silence.
Gabriel rose soundlessly from the audience seat.
The wood of the chair did not even creak.
"Very well," he said quietly. "If existence is measured through living… then show me your lives."
***
An hour and thirty minutes later, Gabriel now sat on a wooden chair with one slightly uneven leg inside a run-down café that had somehow become the next evaluation arena.
The wall paint was peeling.
The windows were cracked.
Half the curtains hung loose.
And in the middle of all that—two maids.
Kaguya and Yuzuru stood in front of the table in neat white aprons, a strange contrast to the nearly collapsing building.
In front of Gabriel were two plates of omurice, each decorated with a cute cat face drawn in ketchup.
He picked up his spoon.
Without hesitation, he tasted Kaguya's first.
His brow furrowed slightly.
"Crisp on the outside," he said quietly, eyes closed as if reading the fate of the cosmos through egg and rice. "Soft within. The flavor is decisive. No hesitation… like a storm that chooses to strike, not merely swirl."
Kaguya immediately lifted her chin.
"Of course! That is the Tempest Sauté technique—"
Gabriel had already moved to the other plate.
He tasted Yuzuru's.
This time, he stayed silent longer.
Not surprised.
Weighing it.
"Balanced," he said at last. "It doesn't force itself. The flavor arrives slowly… but stays. Like an evening breeze you barely notice, yet it changes the direction of a ship's sail."
___
Author's Note;
What? Expecting an 18+ or Ecchi scene? 🙃
Remember, the MC will run away if a woman approaches him aggressively. Eheheh~