Alex's ears rang. His vision flickered between light and dark. Slowly, cautiously, he blinked his eyes open. His body trembled—but he was still upright.
Confused, he looked down. His left arm was outstretched, palm open. Smoke curled from his skin. His hand throbbed with pain, but… he had stopped it. The blast had dissipated against his palm.
"What…?" he whispered. "What just happened?"
The hall erupted in whispers.
"He blocked it—"
"With one hand!"
"That was Klein's strongest move—how…?"
Klein himself stared, his face unreadable. For the first time since the duel began, doubt clouded his features.
Alex blinked at his palm, then at the silent students, then at Klein. "Does that mean… I won?"
Klein's jaw tightened. He exhaled slowly, then turned his gaze toward the orange-haired girl who had provoked this in the first place. "You heard him. He won. Leave the boy alone." His tone was clipped, frustrated, and before she could reply, he turned on his heel and left the hall.
"Klein isn't happy," one of the onlookers muttered.
"Betty, this is your fault," another said, glaring at the orange-haired girl.
Betty bit her lip, guilt flashing across her face. "I'll… go talk to him." She rushed out, chasing after Klein.
The other students dispersed in uneasy silence, casting wary glances at Alex as they went.
Alex exhaled hard, relief flooding him. His legs trembled now that the adrenaline faded, but a small smile tugged at his lips. I won. Somehow… I actually won.
Still buzzing from the fight, he left the hall and made his way back toward the dorms. His body ached, but his pride surged. Even if the others still doubted him, he had earned a sliver of respect tonight.
As he turned a corner, his thoughts were cut off by a sudden gasp.
A girl stumbled out of the bathroom, hair damp, towel wrapped loosely around her body. The floor beneath her feet gleamed wet, and before she realized it, her foot slipped.
"Ah—!"
Without thinking, Alex rushed forward. His arms caught her just before she hit the ground. She clutched at his shirt, trembling.
"Are you okay?" Alex asked, steadying her.
"I—I'm fine… thank you," she breathed, cheeks flushed. She straightened, but as she shifted away from him, her towel slipped loose from its knot.
Time slowed.
The towel fell.
Alex's eyes widened, his breath caught in his throat.
The girl's bare body stood revealed before him—her breasts full and soft, tipped with flushed pink, her waist narrow, her hips curving smoothly into long, graceful legs. Droplets of water slid down her skin, glistening under the dorm lights.
Alex froze, his heart slamming. He had never seen anything so… overwhelming.
The girl's face burned crimson, but she did not scramble for the towel. Instead, she stepped forward, closing the space between them. Her voice was soft, trembling, but there was a strange boldness beneath it.
"…I don't mind if you touch me."
Alex's breath hitched. "Are… are you giving yourself to me?"
Her eyes flickered away, shy but deliberate. She bit her lower lip and whispered, "Or don't you want me?"
"I—I want…" Alex's voice shook, his cheeks burning.
Inside him, Arthur's voice sneered. "Pathetic boy. You can barely stand after a fight, and now you tremble at the sight of a woman's skin? Hmph… weak."
Alex ignored him. His hand twitched at his side, torn between hesitation and desire.
The girl's eyes lifted to meet his again, a spark of daring hidden in her embarrassment. She took another step closer, her warmth brushing against him.
"Then let's go," she whispered.
Just as the girl was leading Alex toward her room, a sudden hand yanked him backward. Startled, Alex turned and found Raphael staring at him with an expression colder than he had ever seen. Without a word, Raphael dragged him away from the girl, ignoring her protests, and pulled him all the way back to their shared room.
Once inside, Raphael slammed the door shut and—before Alex could ask anything—delivered a sharp slap across his cheek.
"What the hell was that for?!" Alex demanded, clutching his face.
Raphael didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed a pen and paper from his desk, scribbled furiously, and shoved the note into Alex's chest before storming toward the door.
Confused, Alex opened the crumpled sheet. His eyes widened as he read the hastily scrawled words:
"She's not what she seems. Don't follow her."
"Darn it!" Alex cursed, realizing too late what almost happened. He rushed out of the room in time to see Raphael with his hand clamped tightly around the girl's throat, pinning her against the wall.
"Raphael, stop!" Alex shouted, pulling at his friend's arm until he reluctantly let go. The girl collapsed forward, coughing and rubbing her neck.
"You shouldn't do this," Alex said to Raphael, who only glared at the girl one last time before retreating back to the room in silence.
When Raphael was gone, Alex turned back to the girl. Her smirk, despite nearly being choked, chilled him.
"Who sent you?" he demanded.
She laughed lightly, brushing her damp hair back from her flushed face. "Why should I tell you? Too bad you didn't fall into my little trap."
Her mocking tone made Alex's stomach twist. He clenched his fists, furious at himself for nearly being fooled. If Raphael hadn't intervened… what would have happened?
"Stay away from me," he told her coldly before walking off. Her soft chuckle followed him down the hall, stinging like poison in his ears.
Unbeknownst to either of them, Klein had witnessed the entire exchange from the shadows of the corridor. His eyes narrowed, mind racing.
Back in the room, Alex found Raphael sitting on the bed, arms crossed and back turned. Alex sat carefully beside him.
"Hey… I'm sorry," Alex said, his voice low with guilt. "I was stupid. I should've known it was a setup. I promise, I won't let myself be tricked again."
Raphael glanced at him, his expression stern but softening. Finally, he sighed and gave Alex a small nod, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
Alex grinned. "So we're good?"
Raphael nodded again.
"Alright then," Alex said, grabbing his towel. "Let me take a bath and then we'll get some food, yeah?"
---
Meanwhile, Klein sat brooding in his room. His thoughts replayed the duel, the moment Alex had stopped his ultimate attack with nothing but an open palm. He didn't understand it. No matter how he tried to rationalize, the memory gnawed at him.
A knock broke his thoughts. He opened the door to find Betty standing there. Her bright orange hair glowed under the hall light, but her usual confidence seemed muted.
"Klein," she said softly, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed things earlier. I only made things worse."
He frowned and turned his back on her, walking to his desk. "What do you want, Betty?"
"I want to make it right," she said, following him in.
Klein didn't reply, his silence heavy.
Betty hesitated, then took a step closer. "You've carried the weight of everyone's expectations for too long. And now… losing to him must have—"
"Enough," Klein snapped, though his voice cracked with the effort.
But Betty only looked at him with sad determination. Slowly, deliberately, she reached for the buttons of her blouse.
Klein stiffened. "What are you doing?"
"Apologizing," she whispered, her fingers lingering at the fabric as she held his gaze. "Or maybe… reminding you that you're still the one in control."
Her movements were suggestive but not rushed. She wasn't throwing herself at him—she was testing him, watching him, gauging every flicker of his reaction.
Klein's jaw tightened. The humiliation of his loss, the questions clouding his mind, the loneliness of his burden—all of it pressed down on him.
For a long moment, neither spoke. The only sound was the quiet rustle of cloth between her fingers.
Finally, Klein rose from his chair and stepped forward, his shadow falling over her. He gripped her wrists gently but firmly, stilling her hands.
"You think this will fix everything?" he asked, his voice low, unreadable.
Betty met his eyes without flinching. "No. But it might remind you that you're not as powerless as you feel."