Early spring sunlight spilled across the courtyard of the Hunter Academy, filtered through high branches of early-blooming sakura that fluttered like falling snow. Young Hunters-in-training loitered across the open stone walkways, chatting, sparring, laughing, complaining. It was a place where dreams and egos lived side by side, where the future felt close enough to touch.
And seated on the edge of a shallow fountain, boots in the water because he never listened to rules, was Ricardo Diaz—black-haired, broad-shouldered, grin eternally lopsided as though he knew a secret about the world that no one else did.
Across from him stood Emelio, graceful and sharp in the eyes but slouched in posture like he'd grown tired of standing up straight for everyone's expectations. He held a notebook at his side.
Ricardo: "Your posture's getting worse," he called without looking up from the water. "One of these days, you're going to fold in half like a poorly made omelet."
Emelio: "I'm going to fold you like one if you don't take your boots off school property."
Ricardo smirked: "Lauren said it's charming."
Emelio sighed: "No, she didn't. She said, and I quote: 'Ricardo, one of these days you're going to fall in and crack your head open'. That's not support. That is concern for our class's collective GPA if you die."
Ricardo stood anyway, flicking water off his shoes: "Same thing."
Lauren emerged from the pathway leading toward the training field. Her dark brown hair with a faint red sheen was tied in a half-up style that whipped with the breeze. She wasn't the most beautiful girl at the Academy, nor the strongest, nor the one with the flashiest abilities. But there was something luminous about her presence. A warmth that made people quieter around her.
Ricardo turned so naturally at the sound of her steps that even Emelio wondered if Ricardo's neck was trained by instinct alone.
Lauren: "You two are early," she said pleasantly. "We have practice evaluations today. Sensei doesn't tolerate lateness."
Ricardo: "Don't worry," he said with a broad grin. "If he yells at us, Emelio will die of embarrassment before he yells the second time."
Emelio's eyebrow twitched.
Lauren smiled small, but glowing.
There it was again. That thing Emelio noticed months ago. Ricardo's expression changed whenever she smiled at him. Just a degree, but enough.
Lauren, blissfully unaware of the weight behind it, turned to Emelio: "Did you bring the reports from yesterday's spar?"
Emelio: "I did." He held up the notebook. "Though I'm not sure why you ask me when he—" He jabbed a thumb at Ricardo. "—was supposed to be the one to do it."
Lauren's eyes narrowed playfully: "Because Ricardo writes evaluations like a middle-schooler submitting a creative essay."
Ricardo: "That's a bold accusation," he replied as he pulled a folded paper from his pocket. He coughed. "I'll have you know my last evaluation was perfectly professional."
Emelio: "Ricardo," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You ended it with 'P.S. Emelio's sword stance is stiff today. Like a sad tree.'"
Ricardo: "It was stiff," he said defensively. "And the sad tree part was poetic."
Emelio: "Don't you dare insult poetry."
Lauren laughed. Ricardo straightened a fraction, like a flower turning toward sunlight.
***
Fourth year meant expectations, responsibilities, and the looming weight of becoming a Hunter. It also meant the sudden, comedic realization that first-years now looked at them with awe.
"H-hey! Ricardo senpai!" A shrill voice called from the walkway as a pair of first-year boys ran toward them.
Ricardo flashed a bright grin: "Yo! Need something?"
"We heard you're the strongest student swordsman!"
Emelio: "You heard wrong. He's top 15 on a good day."
Ricardo: "Emelio! Don't go slandering my name in front of the freshmen! Don't listen to him, this guy's not even top 30."
Lauren coughed: "We have somewhere to go, remember?"
But the boys were already going to their next topic.
"There's a rumor this year has crazy strong first years…"
Ricardo: "Oh?"
And that was when they appeared.
Shoyo Kusakabe walked forward like he owned the hallway. His uniform collar was loose, his smile was whimsical. Behind him, Ruby Scarlet, the quiet girl with the expression of someone remembering a thousand years of boredom, read a book while walking. She didn't look up. Next, Ina, smirking, arms behind her back, flicked her short purple hair. And then, Hakim, tall and solid. Lastly, approached two boys and one girl, a tight-knit friend group.
Shoyo stopped directly in front of Ricardo: "You're the senpai who beat three Hunters during last year's final exam, right?"
Ricardo scratched his cheek modestly: "I mean. Two and a half. The third technically tripped into my attack."
Emelio: "He tripped because you threw your weapon and it hit his knee," he deadpanned.
Shoyo grinned: "Good. I like that."
The tension between their energies was like static, Shoyo's playful, mysterious pressure meeting Ricardo's grounded confidence.
Ruby finally looked up from her book: "You two should fight to see who's stronger."
Ina smirked: "You just wanna see Shoyo get his butt whooped."
Lauren was the first to bow politely: "Are you guys on your way to the special training? We'll be helping out with teaching it."
Shoyo's smile softened, sincere: "Then I look forward to learning from you."
Ricardo blinked: "…Huh. Trying to be respectful are we?"
Shoyo tilted his head: "Oh, I wouldn't say respectful. Just selective."
Emelio: "Selective?"
Shoyo: "Yeah." he pointed at Ricardo. "Let's see what you have to teach me."
Emelio felt danger. Ricardo looked pleased. Too pleased.
Lauren sighed: "Boys."
Rows of fourth-years stood ready, three-person squads lined according to instructor assignments.
Dust swept across the field as teams practiced formation stances. The morning sun burned bright. The clang of wood rang repeatedly.
Ricardo spun his wooden blade with surprising elegance despite his usual chaotic personality: "Alright!" he shouted at a group of 18 nervously eager first-years. "Welcome to the special training. Remember! Don't swing unless you're willing to commit your whole weight!"
Shoyo, standing directly across, raised a hand lazily: "What if I commit too much weight and accidentally break someone's arm?"
Ricardo blinked: "Then you're doing it right."
Lauren snapped her head toward him: "NO, YOU'RE NOT."
Ricardo coughed: "…Right. I meant restraint is important."
Ina whispered to Ruby: "I think I see those two getting together."
Ruby: "Which ones?" She wasn't paying attention.
Ina: "Yes."
Emelio always observed the two. He knew Ricardo loved Lauren. He knew Ricardo was too scared to confess. He knew Lauren liked Ricardo, though she didn't realize it herself yet. He also knew nothing he said would change the fate of two oblivious idiots. But he knew this, too: This was the happiest chapter of their lives. And like all such chapters, they have to come to an end.
"The 4th years will be giving a demonstration match. Step forward." The instructor announced.
Emelio and Ricardo stepped forward immediately. Lauren tightened her gloves and joined them.
Their opponents stepped up across the field, another trio of competitive fourth-years. The tension sharpened instantly.
Ricardo leaned in and whispered theatrically: "Let's go for an ultra-dramatic entrance. I'll run ahead, you two cover me."
Emelio: "No."
Lauren smiled: "Maybe something more practical."
Ricardo looked betrayed: "You two have no vision."
The instructor gave the signal. Ricardo shot forward like lightning. The other squad moved to intercept, but that was exactly what Ricardo wanted. Emelio slid behind him, intercepting a flanking strike with elegant precision, deflecting a blade with a controlled twist. Lauren stepped lightly, weaving through openings in perfect harmony with their stray movements. They clashed, parried, spun. Three hearts beating in familiar rhythm. Ricardo's momentum was unmatched. Emelio's form was flawless. Lauren's timing filled every gap. In less than a minute, their opponents were subdued.
Shoyo clapped from the sidelines, grin bright: "You guys are so strong."
Ina raised an eyebrow: "You do realize you're trying to pick a fight with people who move like that."
Shoyo: "That's the point."
Hakim smirked: "I like them."
The sun warmed the stone benches near the courtyard's central plaza. Birds rested on the rails, unbothered by the chatter below. Ricardo chewed a sandwich loudly. Emelio ate with refined calm. Lauren ate like a normal human.
Emelio: "Why do first-years flock around you? You're a terrible role model."
Ricardo shrugged: "Because they know real talent when they see it."
Lauren hid a laugh: "Or because you nearly set the training field on fire last year."
Ricardo pointed at her: "That was one time."
Lauren: "One time too many."
Emelio: "How did that even happen?"
Lauren: "I forgot…"
Ricardo: "Same."
Emelio closed his eyes: "That was unbelievable." But even so, he smiled.
Ricardo hummed under his breath, a soft tune, gentle and atmospheric.
Lauren lifted her head: "That's the song you sang last night."
Ricardo shrugged, but there was a faint blush dusting his cheeks: "Nice, isn't it?"
Emelio stared at him with the dead eyes of a man watching someone lie through the teeth. But the others like it, and that's all that matters.
Lauren: "I think it suits you."
Ricardo's heart nearly stopped.
***
This is where their final year truly began.
Homework and studying.
A mountain of it.
Ricardo: "Why is there more?" he groaned as he and Emelio stood before a table stacked high with papers: "We're training to be Hunters, not bureaucrats."
Emelio: "Yeah, but we're still students in our teens. Which means we have other responsibilities."
Lauren sat across from them, her expression serene as she flipped through her pages: "You complain too much, Ricardo."
Ricardo: "No I don't."
"You do," she and Emelio said in unison.
Ricardo clutched his chest as if stabbed.
The hallways outside the classroom carried laughter. The Hunter Academy always felt alive, too alive sometimes, but for the three of them, this was home. Four years had shaped them, sharpened them, broken them, and rebuilt them.
And this last year felt like the final stretch of something invisible yet precious. A countdown they couldn't see.
"Hey, senpai!"
A familiar first-year voice rang from the door.
Emelio stiffened: "Oh no. Not him."
Shoyo strolled toward them. He was a prodigy, a menace, and proof that God sometimes rolled dice just to cause problems: "Good morning. Are you guys doing homework in here? I already got all of mine done for the week. Maybe you guys should take your studies seriously."
Ricardo stared: "You do see these stacks, right?"
Emelio inhaled deeply, preparing his patience reserves.
Lauren waved sweetly: "Good morning, Shoyo."
Shoyo grinned: "Lauren-senpai! As radiant as ever."
Ricardo made a strangled noise. Shoyo did this to get a reaction out of him.
Shoyo turned to him: "Ricardo senpai! As shaggy as always."
Ricardo: "That's not a compliment."
Shoyo: "Isn't it?"
Before Ricardo could retort, three more first-years arrived not far behind Shoyo as usual. Ina, twirling a strand of her violet hair, expression bored but amused. Ruby, slow steps, eyes wandering as if she saw both everything and nothing at once. Hakim carrying three training bags effortlessly.
Shoyo clapped his hands: "We're heading to the training field later! Wanna give us some hands-on learning?"
Lauren smiled: "Sorry, but we're swamped with work."
Ricardo: "I'm in."
Shoyo: "Great!"
"No, you're not," Emelio and Lauren said together.
But Shoyo, already walking backward toward the field, called out with a laugh: "I'll see you after class!"
Ricardo: "He's a good kid."
Emelio: "He wants to fight you."
Lauren: "But I do think he likes Ricardo."
Ricardo blushed a little: "Well… who doesn't like this charismatic face?"
Emelio gave a quiet smile he didn't think anyone noticed. Because that's who Ricardo was.
Reckless, annoying, and loud. Yet warm in ways he never admitted. A walking contradiction wrapped in loud singing and bad decisions. And a bond like that had formed slowly, quietly, through years of annoyances and unlikely trust.
***
Ricardo's sword clashed with Emelio's.
Steel rang like bells, precise and sharp.
They had sparred a thousand times across four years, but this time felt heavier, like both of them knew their final year demanded more. Ricardo struck high, low, then spun with unnecessary flair.
Emelio blocked cleanly: "Too much movement."
Ricardo grinned: "Too much practicality."
Emelio: "Practicality keeps you alive."
Ricardo: "Flair keeps you memorable."
Lauren, sitting on the bench beside the wall, tied her hair back into a ponytail: "You're both ridiculous."
Ricardo: "You say that, but I know you appreciate the artistry."
She paused: "I appreciate when you don't accidentally slice your own leg."
Emelio lunged. Ricardo dodged too late. A clean hit landed against his ribs with the back of the blade.
Ricardo: "OW—OKAY—abuse!"
Emelio: "You lowered your elbow."
Lauren laughed quietly.
Ricardo looked at her and mentally melted.
Emelio saw it.
He had seen it before.
He would see it again.
They paused when footsteps approached.
Shoyo leaned against the doorway. His shirt was damp from training. His grin was as radiant as ever: "Ricardo senpai, I mastered the flash step you showed me."
Ricardo: "You WHAT—"
Shoyo lifted his foot and stepped lightly. The air hummed beneath it, just a whisper, unstable but real. It wasn't the technique from Bleach, but a move Ricardo came up with a name for. The user steps forward slowly, slower than normal. Then swings with contradicting speed that'll throw your opponent off. Shoyo did it with ease, his first step was quiet and at a snail's pace. But the slash was quicker than anybody could've anticipated, leaving a screech in the air as if it was cut open.
Ricardo choked: "Holy shit!"
Emelio froze. Lauren froze.
Shoyo beamed: "So, will you finally spar with me?"
Ricardo: "Uh… After you master this move."
***
The sky glowed orange. Ricardo sat cross-legged on the stone floor, plucking at a string on his guitar. It wasn't expertly played, but it was honest. Imperfect and Warm. Lauren sat beside him, knees pulled to her chest. Emelio stood behind them, leaning on the railing, arms crossed, guardian of the peace he pretended not to enjoy.
Lauren: "Play that one again."
Ricardo: "Which one?"
Lauren: "The one you were humming."
And so he did. The banjo began playing notes and Ricardo's voice floated into the evening air.
Emelio watched them, Ricardo's shoulders loosening and Lauren's eyes half closed, he felt something twist in his chest.
Not jealousy or anything.
Something deeper.
A strange ache similar to watching a candle burn beautifully and knowing it wouldn't last forever.
He didn't know why he felt that way.
Not yet.
But he felt it.
Lauren: "Emelio," she called gently. "Come sit."
Emelio shook his head: "I'm fine like this."
Ricardo glanced at him: "Hey. We're a trio, remember?"
Emelio: "For now, how about you two enjoy your love song."
Ricardo's face flushed red: "It's NOT—Lauren don't listen he's an idiot—"
Lauren laughed, leaning back on her palms as the sun dipped behind the Academy buildings.
And for a moment, the world felt infinite.
***
Shoyo: "Ricardo!! You promised you'd spar with me today!"
Ricardo held up both hands: "Later, later. I'm a busy man."
Emelio sighed: "Sounds like you're ducking the fight."
Ricardo scoffs: "Am not."
Shoyo: "I'll have a handicap. I accidentally sprained my wrist, so I'm not at full strength right now."
Ina: "It was not accidental," she said, appearing behind Shoyo like a shadow. Where Shoyo was light and chaos, Ina was all sly smiles and lethality wrapped in a deceptively petite frame. Her purple eyes glimmered with mischief. "I watched you fall from that tree."
Shoyo: "You saw that?!"
Ruby: "What's to be gained from this fight anyway!"
Emelio: "See? Ruby gets it."
Ricardo clapped his hands: "Alright, listen up! One spar. One!"
Lauren covered a smile. Emelio rubbed his temples. Ruby blinked slowly, as if mentally preparing for the funeral.
Shoyo practically vibrated with excitement before he shot forward like a meteor.
Ricardo: "Wait!"
Too late.
Shoyo struck with his wooden sword, and the spar began. 3 seconds passed. Ricardo stood, perfectly intact, holding Shoyo upside down by the ankle like a misbehaving cat.
Shoyo dangled, defeated but cheerful: "Okay, good warm-up! Let's begin the real fight."
Ina fell over on her side laughing so much she started crying, Ruby cracked a small smile and Hakim facepalmed.
As the semester marched on, the trio's bond deepened in the simple hours—the in-between moments when the world was calm and the future felt far away. Ricardo had gotten better at not choking on his food while laughing. Emelio tolerated the chaos with quiet patience that bordered on saintlike. Lauren simply enjoyed being with them. That day, they sat under the trees, remnants of petals scattered on the ground like confetti.
Ricardo leaned back and stared up through the branches: "I'm telling you, when I become a Special-Rank Hunter, I want a giant statue. Like, absurdly huge."
Emelio bit into his rice ball: "I'd request a small, tasteful plaque. You want to become a shrine."
Ricardo: "A shrine people can worship."
Lauren: "Why not something smaller? Like a figure?"
Ricardo: "Lauren. You lost me."
After a moment, Emelio said: "If you truly want to become a Special-Rank, perhaps focus on training instead of sculptural fantasies."
Ricardo: "Excuse me, I can multitask. I'm talented after all."
Emelio: "Talent is not the same as delusion."
Lauren nodded thoughtfully: "He can be both."
Fourth-year coursework was beyond brutal. Theory exams turned brains into soup. Practical classes left arms shaking for hours. And yet, Ricardo and Emelio always ended up studying with Lauren just up until curfew.
Tonight was no different.
Lauren flipped through her notes: "Alright, question. What is the recommended stance for countering a mid-range vampire lunge?"
Ricardo raised his hand: "Punch it."
Lauren: "No."
Ricardo: "Punch it strategically."
Emelio: "Ricardo, I swear if you ever attempt to punch a vampire—"
He paused.
Actually… knowing his friend…
He absolutely would.
Ricardo: "If it comes down to it, my fists are weapons."
Lauren leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm: "Only! If it comes down to it."
Emelio pinched the bridge of his nose.
By early June, the air thickened with humidity. Finals loomed. The trio trained harder than ever.
Lauren's movements were fluid like ripples on still water, they were disciplined. Ricardo's style was explosive, raw talent backed by stubborn determination. Emelio's technique was precise, razor-clean, and unyielding. They complemented one another perfectly.
During a break, Lauren nudged Ricardo with her elbow: "You're getting faster."
Ricardo grinned: "Maybe I'm trying to impress someone."
Lauren: "And who would that be?"
"Hey! Stop slacking!" The sensei yelled.
Emelio barked a cough to cover his laugh.
One humid evening, just before dusk, Ricardo admitted something: "After graduation," he said, voice quieter than usual, "I want to ask Lauren out."
Emelio blinked: "Finally."
Ricardo: "What do you mean finally?"
Emelio: "Everyone knows you like Lauren."
Ricardo: "Huh, for real?"
Emelio: "Yes."
Ricardo flailed: "I—I—I'm not sure how to do this. She's amazing and smart and kind and she deserves someone perfect and—"
Emelio raised a hand: "Well, you're not perfect."
Ricardo deflated.
"But," Emelio continued, "you don't need to be. And you care about her. That matters more."
Ricardo stared.
Emelio sighed: "Just… don't be stupid. And don't rush."
Ricardo smiled—a small, grateful one he rarely showed anyone: "Thanks, Emelio."
Soon, their final year was ending. Graduation gowns were fitted. Ceremonies rehearsed.
Life felt like it was accelerating.
Ricardo stood under the same trees where the year had begun, looking at the dorms: "Hard to believe it's almost over."
Emelio crossed his arm: "Time moves whether we're ready or not."
Lauren stood between them, eyes soft: "I'm glad I spent these years with you two."
Ricardo swallowed.
Emelio's expression softened—barely, but unmistakably.
Ricardo: "Lauren, that goes for us as well."
She smiled warmly. Ricardo committed the moment to memory.
***
After the cheers, after the diplomas, after the photo where Ricardo blinked and ruined the shot, life diverged. Ricardo returned to District 22. Emelio to District 14. Lauren eventually joined Ricardo there, first as a colleague, then something more.
On the night of the graduation celebration, Ricardo found Emelio at the far edge of the courtyard, looking up at the stars.
Ricardo: "You're leaving early, right?"
Emelio: "My train leaves at sunrise."
Ricardo scratched the back of his head: "Damn… This is really where we split ways."
Emelio smirked faintly: "Don't die."
Ricardo: "You too."
They bumped fists.
Ricardo: "Hey… thanks. For being my friend."
Emelio didn't turn, but his shoulders eased: "I should be the one thanking you."
And with that, their bond was unbreakable, forged through laughter, bruises, music, and shared goals.
***
2 years passed
Ricardo's hometown in District 22 was dressed in sunlight that afternoon. It was bright, warm, almost theatrical, as if even the weather knew Ricardo Diaz was getting married today. The breeze carried the scent of river water and fresh-cut flowers from a vendor down the street. Birds gathered on the trees like spectators.
Ricardo stood at the entrance of the chapel, tugging nervously at the collar of his suit: "Emelio," he whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "am I sweating?"
Emelio, in an orange and blue suit that fit him with elegance, didn't even look up from fixing his cufflink: "You've been sweating nonstop since you woke up. It's too late."
Ricardo wiped his forehead with the back of his hand: "Be honest. How bad is it?"
Emelio: "Bad enough that the groom might slide out of his own suit."
Ricardo smacked his arm: "How are you calm at a time like this!?"
Emelio: "I'm not the one getting married."
Ricardo: "Then panic with me! I refuse to suffer alone."
Emelio sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose like he'd been doing for years: "Ricardo. Breathe."
Ricardo inhaled deeply.
Then immediately choked on his own spit.
Outside the chapel, a cluster of children pointed at him and giggled.
Emelio muttered under his breath: "…You're hopeless."
Shoyo, now a 3rd-year student, trotted over wearing a crisp suit that contrasted his black hair.
Shoyo: "Ricardo-senpai!!" He beamed. "You look so cool!"
Ricardo blinked: "I do?"
Shoyo: "Yeah! Like one of those drama heroes who almost dies before the wedding but makes it in time!"
Ricardo: "That's… oddly specific." He paused. "Wait, does that mean I look like I almost died?"
Ina approached gracefully, holding a wrapped gift: "You look presentable enough. Just don't faint."
Ruby, walking a step behind, added in her empty monotone: "If you faint, I will record it."
Hakim bowed politely: "Congratulations. If you need anything, just ask us."
Ricardo thought to himself: 'I… I really made it here, huh?'
Studying. Training. Mission failures. Achievements. Every laugh. Every bruise. Every late-night study session. Every song he tried to sing on key. The years he shared with Emelio. And all the quiet smiles Lauren gave him that made life feel warmer.
All of that, every moment had led to today. Ricardo swallowed and looked at Emelio. His best friend looked back, eyes softer than usual.
Emelio: "Looks like you're ready."
Ricardo: "Let's do this thing."
The chapel was small but beautiful—white pews, wooden beams overhead, and a wall of windows behind the altar where the trees outside glowed golden with afternoon light. Ricardo walked down the aisle first, greeted by cheers and scattered applause. Aunties he'd never met were already crying. Someone yelled "That's our boy!" which made him tear up instantly. Emelio followed at a calm pace, scanning the crowd with cool composure.
As Ricardo stood at the altar, Emelio took his place at his side: "Stop shaking."
Ricardo: "I'm not—" His voice cracked. "Okay, maybe a little."
The musicians began to play.
And the doors opened.
Lauren stepped inside.
The entire chapel held their breath.
Her dress wasn't extravagant. Not a giant sweep of fabric, not a jewel-encrusted spectacle. It was simple and elegant, ivory silk that hugged her form and flowed effortlessly behind her like a quiet ripple of moonlight. Her hair was tied half-up with a delicate pearl clip, her veil cascading like soft mist down her shoulders.
Her smile.
Her smile lit the entire space.
Ricardo's knees nearly buckled.
He heard someone whisper: "He's crying already."
He was.
Tears rolled freely down his cheeks, and he made no effort to hide them. Lauren met his eyes as she walked. Happiness gathered there, not loud, not wild, but gentle and full, the kind that could hold someone's heart safely inside it.
When she reached him, he forgot how to breathe.
Lauren: "Hi," she whispered.
Ricardo: "H-hi," he whispered back, voice trembling.
Lauren: "You're crying."
Ricardo: "You're beautiful."
Lauren turned pink. Emelio looked away, unable to stop grinning ear to ear.
The officiant spoke with a warm voice. The ceremony was soft and heartfelt, friends and family leaning forward to catch every word, wiping tears or nudging each other when Ricardo sniffled too loudly.
When it came time for vows, Ricardo took a deep breath. His hands shook as he held hers.
Ricardo: "Lauren… that day in the courtyard… when you laughed at me for almost setting the field on fire—"
Emelio: "Ricardo," he cut in. "Rephrase."
Ricardo: "What? It happened!"
Lauren giggled: "It did."
Ricardo grinned: "See? Anyway… you—" He swallowed. "You changed everything for me. You made me want to be better. You made me… braver. Less stupid sometimes."
Emelio: 'This guy just wanted to bring up the fire. He probably remembers how he started it.'
Ricardo: "I never knew you could love someone this much. I really didn't. But I… I do. And I'll keep loving you. For as long as I can."
Lauren wiped her tears with her free hand. Then she took a steady breath: "Ricardo, you are loud. And chaotic. And reckless. And messy. And sometimes you make me worry so much I get a headache."
Ricardo shrank a little.
Lauren: "But, you are also the kindest soul I've ever met. You are genuine and warm and you care so deeply it inspires me. You make life brighter. And you make me feel… like I'm home."
Ricardo sobbed loudly.
"Beautifully said," the officiant said, smiling.
The rings were exchanged.
"By the power vested in me," the officiant declared, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss—"
Ricardo was already kissing her before the sentence finished. The crowd erupted into cheers.
Shoyo cried openly. Hakim clapped like thunder. Ina pretended not to wipe her eyes. Ruby recorded the kiss expressionlessly. Their other 3 friends shouted congratulations loud enough to rattle the windows.
Emelio stood by, hands folded behind him, watching with the guarded pride of someone who never bragged about how deeply he loved his friends. And Ricardo felt like the happiest man in Shioto.
The reception hall glowed, laughter bouncing from wall to wall. Banners hung overhead, photos from their Academy days clipped along twine.
Lauren held Ricardo's hand the entire time, refusing to let go even when they moved table to table greeting guests.
When the dancing began, Ricardo offered Lauren his hand: "May I have this dance?"
Lauren: "You may," she said, placing her hand in his.
He stepped on her foot three times.
She laughed every time.
Ricardo: "Sorry—I'm—I'm—"
Emelio: "You're perfect," she whispered.
The words stopped him cold.
Behind them, Emelio leaned against the wall, sipping juice, pretending he wasn't watching them dance.
Later, Ricardo approached him with two cups of cider: "You okay?"
Emelio nodded: "Yes."
Ricardo: "You're being quiet."
Emelio: "Am I?"
Ricardo nudged him: "Thanks for being here."
Emelio: "Idiot, of course I'm here."
Ricardo: "You're my best friend."
Emelio looked down at his cup: "You're mine too."
For once, Ricardo didn't make it a joke. They stood shoulder to shoulder, watching Lauren laugh with her friends. As the reception wound down and guests began to leave, Ricardo and Lauren sat outside the venue under a small awning, listening to the faint nighttime hum of the town.
Rain had begun to fall, whispering against the roof above them. Lauren rested her head on Ricardo's shoulder.
Lauren: "Married."
Ricardo: "Married," he echoed.
Lauren: "Are you still nervous?"
Ricardo: "Terrified."
Lauren laughed quietly: "Me too."
Ricardo squeezed her hand: "I love you."
Lauren: "I love you too."
Ricardo smiled, tired and full.
She kissed him gently.
And for that fleeting moment beneath the rain, surrounded by laughter fading into the night, it felt like nothing could touch them.
Just a peaceful, perfect night that would forever live in Emelio's memory—
and later, break him.
***
Rain hammered the battlefield like war drums.
Ame stood over the body of the man who had once been the heartbeat of countless memories.
Ricardo Diaz—beloved friend, unstoppable Hunter, the man who sang too loudly and believed too fiercely lay still.
Emelio's breath shook.
Slowly and deliberately.
He reached for the hilt at his side.
The air trembled.
Water spiraled in the storming wind, bending toward him. His glove glowed faintly.
Emelio activated the Alter Blade.
And the storm shifted.
Freezing droplets slashed the air in violent sheets. Thunder groaned deep in the bones of the earth.
Vampires shrieked through the chaos. Students screamed. Blood mixed with mud. And Emelio now stood at the center of it all, directly across from Ame, the Slayer of Rain.
Ame: "Your aura is different. Strange, you now feel stronger than the last insect."
Emelio's fingers curled around the hilt of Ricardo's Alter Blade. Rainwater spiraled toward him, responding instinctively to the weapon's call. It tightened around the steel in a thin, lethal sheath that vibrated with sharp pressure.
Emelio's throat was tight. His chest was burning. His vision trembled with the afterimage of Ricardo's last breath.
And inside him, beneath the grief, beneath the storm, beneath the quiet dignity he always held, something snapped.
It was the quiet crack of a heart breaking from the inside.
His vision sharpened.
And the world… clicked.
He felt the alignment of his soul.
A rhythm.
A pulse.
A memory.
Ricardo on the rooftop singing terribly.
Ricardo fighting with wild passion in practical exams.
Ricardo crying on his wedding day.
Ricardo's last smile.
He felt the heartbeat of a brother he couldn't save.
Soul resonance.
A cold, steady drum deep in his chest synchronized with a phantom rhythm. His breath stabilized. His grip tightened. His stance lowered, refined, and merciless.
Emelio moved.
In one breath.
One silent step.
The rain trembled.
Ame swung her arm, droplets of rain hardened into needle-like bullets that shot toward him with deadly speed.
Emelio's blade sliced through them.
Each movement exact, each cut deliberately placed to cleave the droplets at their densest points.
These were cuts that were different from Ricardo's. Nonetheless, Emelio felt his rhythm within his bones.
Emelio: "Let's dance, Ricardo."
He stepped in.
Ame's eyes widened, excitement flashing like lightning. His blade carved a crescent arc through the downpour, water exploding outward like a razor fan. She kicked off a tree and somersaulted downward, slicing her hand through the air. A blade of compressed rainwater formed in her grip, curving like a scythe. Emelio blocked. The shockwave sent water exploding in all directions.
Far beyond them, the students' situation worsened by the second. 4th-years were buckling under the swarm. 1st-years were huddled behind them, desperately trying to help. 2nd-years shouted as they fought to protect the injured.
Lightning illuminated the horror: A girl's lifeless body trampled under the mud. A boy trying to drag a friend while a vampire latched onto his leg. A 4th-year finishing off a vampire's arm only to get bitten in the throat
Hope was slipping away.
A familiar screaming voice echoed: "HEY—HEY—STOP—STAY AWAY FROM ME—!"
Mike. He was cornered. Four vampires surrounded him, their eyes glowing with crimson hunger. Mike held his sword up like a useless shield, trembling so violently that mud splattered from his sleeves. "I—I'm warning you— I—I'm— I'm—!" He wasn't anything. Just terrified
A vampire lunged. Mike shut his eyes. And then—
One vampire's head hit the ground.
Mike opened his eyes.
A bald student stood in front of him.
Mike: "…Wh-who… who are you…?" He stammered.
The bald student didn't answer.
He simply charged toward the remaining vampires. His movements were lethal. Mike watched, frozen, as the bald student dismantled the vampires with frightening ease.
When it ended, he glanced back at Mike: "We're getting out of this."
Mike nodded so hard his glasses nearly fell off.
Much further away, Erika, Sylvie, and Esmarie fought back-to-back, each drenched in rain and blood. The corpses of several vampires lay at their feet.
Esmarie's breathing turned shallow.
Sylvie noticed first: "Esmarie—?"
Esmarie: "I'm— I'm good!" she wheezed.
But her face was pale. Her lips were turning purple.
Erika: "You're not fine!"
Sylvie: "Esmarie!! Hey—HEY—stay with me!"
Esmarie's eyelids flickered. She smiled faintly: "Erika… you know what's funny…?"
Erika: "DON'T TALK LIKE THAT."
Esmarie: "I was always… jealous of you. You're… amazing. Her voice thinned. "Maybe one day, I can be strong like you…"
Erika: "Esmarie, you were strong. You're the strongest one here. Now stay awake. Do you hear me? STAY WITH ME."
Esmarie's eyes fluttered. Her breathing slowed.
Erika: "We're going to get you out. I swear it. You're going to be okay."
***
Lightning split the sky.
Emelio's blade cut upward just as Ame's rain-scythe came down. Their attacks clashed, sending shockwaves through the air.
Ame blurred forward, vanishing into the downpour as if the rain itself had swallowed her. Emelio's pupils tightened. He listened to the storm, to the ground, to the faint displacement of air.
He stepped left. A rain-forged blade carved down exactly where he'd stood. Ame emerged behind him in a low crouch, scythe of water arching upward in a savage crescent. Emelio's wrist twisted with elegance and control, his blade intercepted the attack with an angled deflection so precise it redirected the strike past his cheek by a hair's width. Ame danced away, body bending unnaturally as rainwater surged beneath her feet like living tendrils. She slid across the soaked ground with the fluidity of a serpent. Water bursts erupted around Emelio as she flicked her fingers, detonating droplets into sharp bursts. He weaved through them, cloak shredded by pressure, eyes never blinking. The water thickened around his blade, spiraling in a tighter helix, reflecting the lightning in jagged streaks of silver-blue. Ame twirled her makeshift water-scythe and lunged. Thunder rumbled. Emelio pivoted, parrying her swing with a cold snap of motion. The rain exploded around their feet. He stepped in. His blade carved a diagonal arc so sharp it sliced rain midfall. Ame barely managed to dodge, sliding on a surge of water as the wind of his strike cut a line across her cheek. Her smile widened, blood mixing with rain. Their feet dug into the mud. The ground cracked beneath the pressure. Water spiraled violently around their weapons.
Something inside Emelio's chest ignited.
He recalled Ricardo's voice. Ricardo's laugh. Ricardo's reckless spark.
"Move with me, Emelio! Faster!"
"Don't let me beat you this easily!"
"Let's go again, one more round, keep up!"
Rain hit the ground in slow motion.
Emelio exhaled.
And the entire battlefield shifted.
His heartbeat locked into place with the rhythm of someone who no longer lived, someone whose presence momentarily pulsed inside of Emelio's soul like a low drum.
Emelio raised the blade.
The water around it tightened to an impossibly fine thread— a single, trembling filament so precise it hummed.
***
More vampires surged from the treeline, drawn to the students like sharks to blood. The 4th-years fought valiantly, but even they were being overwhelmed.
A girl with a broken arm swung wildly at a vampire, crying. A boy tried to protect two first-years before being dragged away. A Hunter shouted orders before being taken down with a crushed throat.
Too many bodies.
Students.
Lying dead in the mud.
And still more vampires came.
Yuji fought furiously with one hand while dragging an unconscious Marlon over his shoulder like a ragdoll, shouting at others to get up and move: "DON'T FREEZE! KEEP MOVING! MOVE—!"
Remi led a group, parrying frantically while giving orders: "FORM A LINE! PROTECT THE INJURED! DON'T PANIC—!"
Dakota and Austin fought side-by-side, backs touching, breathing ragged, faces streaked with blood and rain. Their blades were chipped. Their arms trembled.
A vampire lunged at them.
Austin blocked.
Dakota cut it down.
Another came.
Their swords met it together, pushing, straining, slipping in the mud—
Austin shouted: "I thought graduating would be the hardest part of my teens!"
Dakota yelled back: "RIGHT NOW I WISH I WAS TAKING MATH!"
Austin parried with trembling arms: "WE'RE GOING TO DIE. WE ARE ACTUALLY GOING TO DIE—"
Dakota cut a vampire across the side: "WILL YOU STOP SAYING THAT—?!"
Rain blinded them. Mud sucked at their legs. Another vampire clawed at Austin's jacket. Dakota pivoted, slicing its arm off. Austin spun, sweeping its legs. Dakota finished it with a downward strike that split its skull.
They were breathing like cornered animals.
Austin spat blood: "You good—?"
Dakota: "No."
Austin: "Cool, me neither!"
A vampire lunged from the left.
Austin shoved Dakota aside and took the slash across his shoulder: "AGH—!"
The blade missed his neck by inches.
Dakota screamed: "AUSTIN!!"
But Austin swung back, sheer adrenaline carrying his arm. Dakota followed, and together they carved through the next two vampires in a flurry of instinct and desperation. They survived. Barely.
And only because they were together. But the fight was tearing the students apart.
***
Ame launched forward, rain swirling around her like dozens of serpents. She carved downward with her water-scythe. Emelio stepped in, blade angled with surgical precision, slicing through the attack at the exact moment of its formation.
Lightning carved jagged wounds across the sky as Emelio and Ame clashed again and again, their silhouettes flickering like ghostly afterimages between bursts of thunder. The ground beneath them had long since become a churning bog, mud swallowing footprints, water pooling in dark wells.
Ame's rain beat down harder, responding to her desire and her pulse: "You're slowing, Hunter," she sang.
Emelio didn't answer. He couldn't waste a breath. Every inhale scorched his lungs. Every exhale felt like it carried pieces of Ricardo's dying warmth with it. His katana, Ricardo's blade hummed in his hand, thin coils of water tightening around its edge in resonance with the storm.
Ame rushed him like a streak of liquid silver, scythe-blade of water forming as she swung. Emelio raised his own blade, deflecting the arc with smooth, practiced efficiency. Water exploded at their feet.
She twisted. He blocked. She kicked at his knee.
He pivoted, letting her kick slide past his shin. She swung upward. He angled down, slicing the attack in half. Despite it all, Emelio stayed on his feet.
Emelio's blade surged, water sharpening along its length until it sang. Their swords collided so violently the shockwave uprooted saplings.
A wave surged beneath her feet, propelling her forward. Emelio spun, too slow. She hit him with a backhanded slash of water dense enough to feel like an iron bar.
Emelio: "GHH—!"
The blow flung him through a tree trunk, splinters exploding across the soaked mud. He landed on his hands and knees, coughing rainwater and dirt. His ribs screamed. His vision flickered. The rain thickened into a solid curtain around him, Ame's cage. She stepped through it, slow and languid, the storm stroking her shoulders like a pet.
Emelio rose. Every muscle trembled, but he stood. He lifted the blade. He was not done. Not yet.
She raised her arm.
A tidal wave of rain manifested behind her—swirling, surging, a liquid leviathan ready to crush him.
Ame threw her hand forward: "Drown."
The wave hit Emelio dead-on.
The world was water.
Cold, crushing, merciless.
For a moment, Emelio couldn't tell where the sky ended and the earth began. He felt himself lifted, thrown, swallowed. He lost grip. Ricardo's blade flew out of his hands, disappearing into the surge.
Underwater, lungs screaming, vision blurring—
a voice echoed inside him.
"If it comes down to it, my fists are weapons."
Emelio's heart jolted. Because Ricardo was a fool.
A reckless, wild, brilliant fool. They had grown together. Trained together. Lived and bled and laughed together.
If Emelio couldn't fight with a blade. He would fight with what Ricardo wanted him to fight with next.
Emelio's legs curled. His feet struck the ground beneath the water. He launched upward like a fired arrow.
He lifted his fists.
Ame blinked: "Oh?"
He squared up. Rain hitting his shoulders like falling nails.
Ame dissolved her scythe. Set her own stance. They rushed each other.
Ame's first punch cracked across Emelio's cheek.
His vision flashed white.
He didn't fall.
He punched back, straight to her jaw.
She twisted with it, letting the force slide through her body like water. She kneed him in the stomach. He punched her liver. She headbutted.
He ducked and countered with a body blow.
She uppercut. He staggered back, spit blood, moved in again. A human could not match a vampire in strength. Rain soaked their fists. Mud sprayed beneath their feet. For every punch she landed, he gave her one of his own. For every strike she slipped, he adjusted. His movements were elegant, but his heart raged with Ricardo's ferocity. His knuckles split open. His lip tore. Blood trickled down his temple. He landed a clean blow across her cheek. Her head snapped to the side. She blinked, then licked the blood off her lips.
She punched him so hard his vision dimmed.
Another.
Another.
He fell to one knee.
She grabbed him by the hair and slammed her knee into his face. The world went black for a heartbeat. He hit the ground. Ame hovered over him, casting a shadow drowned in stormlight. She raised her hand. Water spiraled around her palm, forming a spear aimed directly at his heart. Emelio looked up, blood running into his eyes.
Ame's water-spear hovered inches above Emelio's chest. Rain spiraled, twisting like a living drill ready to pierce his heart. Thunder rolled across the forest, drowning out the distant noises.
Emelio lay half-conscious in the mud, lungs burning, vision unfocused but stubbornly clinging to the fading outlines of the world.
***
Elsewhere in the storm, two shadows stood back-to-back amid the carnage. Austin panted, chest heaving, uniform soaked in blood, some his, some not.
The mud around them was littered with bodies, mainly vampires, but not all. Another vampire darted toward them, leaping through the rain.
Dakota slashed, slicing across its ribs.
It fell. Or so Dakota thought. He turned just a second too soon, eyes scanning for the next threat.
The vampire he cut stumbled… then twitched.
Its eyes burned red.
It rose silently behind Dakota, claws extending, jaw widening to tear into his spine.
Austin saw it.
He saw Dakota's exposed back.
He saw the vampire's killing blow.
He saw the opening, the blind spot, the fatal mistake.
"DAKOTA—!!!"
Austin threw himself between them.
The vampire's claw pierced deep.
Straight through Austin's ribs.
The impact lifted him off his feet.
Dakota spun just in time to see the vampire's arm sticking out of Austin's chest.
"Austin?"
Austin coughed blood but still swung. His blade cut in a brutal arc.
Dakota blinked.
Austin's eyes lifted, unfocused.
His mouth moved, trying to say something, but only blood came out.
And then—
He fell.
Face-first.
Motionless.
Dead before he hit the ground.
It felt like time had stopped.
Dakota stared.
He stepped forward slowly. As though waking in a nightmare he couldn't acknowledge. Austin's eyes were half-open. There was no breath. No pulse.
Just the limp weight of a friend he trusted more than anyone.
His vision blurred with rain and tears. He didn't even feel the hands grabbing his shoulders.
"D-Dakota…? What did you…?"
"It's… Austin—? He's… gone?"
"Oh god…"
Students stared.
Horrified.
Then angry.
"You let him die!"
"You didn't finish the kill!"
"You left his back open!"
"He saved your sorry ass!"
"This is YOUR fault!"
Dakota didn't hear them.
He couldn't.
He stared at Austin's body like he was staring through time. A hole formed in his chest, cold and expanding.
He barely registered the next scream: "REINFORCEMENTS!! THEY'RE HERE!!"
Vampires shrieked as dozens, almost 100 1st Rank Hunters burst through the forest's edge. Blades carved through the vampires and the tide turned instantly.
Ame froze mid-motion over Emelio, eyes narrowing. Her ability lets her sense every single person within her rain.
She felt them. Hunters surrounding her.
She turned to leave, but landed in the middle of a tightening circle.
A dozen silhouettes emerged around her.
Five of them stepped directly in front of her.
Five 1st-Rank Hunters. All blades drawn.
Killing intent focused like a blade at her throat. Literally.
One stepped forward with crimson hair, Rosa Scarlet: "It's over."
Ame stomped the ground lightly. Water erupted upward, not in a wave, but as a man-made mist explosion.
A blinding cloud.
A perfect smokescreen.
By the time the mist cleared, Ame was gone. Her presence vanished from the rain. At the same moment, the storm began to fade. Clouds peeled apart. Light breached the openings inforest. Warmth returned.
The rain, that dreadful, unnatural rain ceased.
Sunlight pierced through, but it illuminated a battlefield soaked in blood. Bodies everywhere. Hundreds crying, screaming for help. Hunters kneeling beside the fallen.
Erika held Esmarie's unconscious body to her chest. Sylvie sat beside them, hands shaking violently, knuckles white with shock.
Yuji knelt over Marlon checking his pulse.
And Dakota…
Dakota was still on his knees.
Still staring at Austin's lifeless body.
Still trapped beneath the weight of his mistake.
The sun shone warmly on them all, but the warmth felt wrong.
In this aftermath, this carnage, this void where futures had just been stolen, the sun had no right to shine.