Azazel, after his morning wanderings, decided to join Ino and Matteo in their strange training. He picked up a wooden dagger, testing the balance in his palm, and threw himself into the drills. The hours slipped by, sweat stinging his eyes, the barn echoing with the thuds of practice strikes and bursts of laughter when someone fumbled.
By the time the sun began to sink, slanting golden beams through the barn's wide doors, they were already winding down. Azazel wiped his forehead, ready to call it a day—when the creak of the doors caught his attention.
A couple stepped inside.
The first thing Azazel noticed was Juan. But not the Juan he was used to. He wasn't swaggering or cracking jokes—he was walking arm in arm with a girl.
The second thing Azazel noticed was the sudden, inexplicable stab in his chest. It was ridiculous, he knew. Juan was his best friend, his brother-in-arms. But still, seeing him like that—close, smiling, relaxed—it stirred something ugly, something that felt far too much like jealousy.
And then recognition hit.
The girl.
Azazel's breath caught. He knew her. He'd seen her before. Hypathia—student of Margarita.
Azazel straightened instinctively, hiding the twist in his expression behind the cold facade of the mask.
Juan noticed him at once. His reaction was almost comical: he froze, then stiffened like a boy caught sneaking home after curfew. He glanced between Hypathia and Lucien—the mask-clad leader of Team 27—with the guilt of a husband spotted with his mistress.
"Lucien," Juan said, clearing his throat too loudly, "this is Hypathia. She's… ah… she's with me."
Hypathia gave a polite bow, her eyes glinting with curiosity. "I've heard much about you, Lucien. Leader of the infamous Team 27. Rumors fly fast, and most of them revolve around your… unusual methods."
Azazel dipped his head slightly, keeping his voice calm. "And you must be Hypathia. Student of Margarita."
"Yes," she said, her tone firm but pleasant. "Second team of the Initiation Trials. We're currently fourth on the board." She squeezed Juan's arm a little tighter, her chin tilting upward proudly. "And I am also Juan's girlfriend."
Azazel forced a laugh, hollow behind the mask. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance."
But Hypathia wasn't done. She studied him for a beat, her smile sharp as a blade. "No better way to get acquainted than through a sparring match, wouldn't you agree?"
Azazel shook his head at once. "I'm afraid I must decline. I've already finished training for the day, and tomorrow we… I need to face a mission worth four flames. Rest is more valuable to me now."
Hypathia tilted her head, her smile turning into a smirk. "What's wrong, Lucien? Don't tell me you're afraid to loose."
Juan stiffened beside her, his eyes widening—he hadn't expected her to say that. The tension in the barn thickened instantly. Ino and Matteo both exchanged wide-eyed glances, as if silently saying: Oh no. Here we go.
Azazel stood very still, his jaw tightening beneath the mask. Inside, emotions swirled: the sting of jealousy, the irritation, and the pressure of pride.
He exhaled slowly.