The training field was alive with motion—guards clashing, the air thick with the rhythm of water striking earth. But at the center of it all stood Shion.
Her hair was loose, strands glinting under the morning sun as she faced her opponent. Streams of water circled her hands, weaving and twisting like two chained serpents waiting to strike.
"Ready?" the guard asked, water rippling around her own fists.
Shion gave a small nod, her eyes steady.
They moved at once—waves colliding midair, droplets scattering like tiny sparks. At first, it was light, the kind of spar that left both sides smiling. But when the guard gathered her strength and formed a massive water punch, slamming it into Shion's chest, the air changed.
Shion didn't fall. She stood still, breathing hard, water dripping from her chin.
"Okay, looks like that'll be enough for today, young master," the guard said, bowing slightly.
"I'm not done yet," Shion murmured. Her voice was calm, but it carried something darker underneath.
"Eh?" The guard blinked, unsure if she'd heard right.
"Again," Shion said, her tone sharpening. "Let's go again."
For a moment, no one moved. It wasn't like her to push this far—Shion was the one who always called for breaks, who laughed after a few rounds. But this was their fifth spar of the day, and she hadn't stopped once.
"O-okay then…" the guard said carefully, lifting her stance again.
Before she could blink, Shion was already there. Her chains of water snapped forward, slicing through the air with frightening precision. Each strike came faster than the last, her movements sharper, heavier—filled with something that wasn't just energy, but emotion.
The guard stumbled back, barely dodging as the next wave crashed inches from her face.
"Young master—are you not taking this too far?!" she shouted, blocking with trembling arms.
But Shion didn't stop. Her eyes glowed faintly, her breathing uneven. Each strike landed harder, each step heavier. Around them, the other guards began to slow—then stop completely. Their sparring fell silent as they turned to watch.
"You're too weak to defeat me… huh," Shion muttered, a cruel smile curling her lips.
The guard's eyes widened, fear flickering behind them. Before she could react, Shion's chains of water twisted and merged into a giant watery hand. It reached out, grabbed the guard by the neck, and lifted her into the air.
"Lady Shion—!" someone shouted, but she didn't hear.
The watery hand began to tighten, pulling the girl under. Water swirled around her, rising, drowning her as she gasped and struggled. Shion watched quietly, her expression unreadable—except for the cold, soft smile on her face.
"What should we do now?" Shion whispered, her tone eerily calm. "Should we kill her… since she's too weak?"
Her voice carried across the field like a chill wind. The guards froze. No one dared to move. The sight of their "young master" drowning one of their own sent shivers through every heart present.
The girl's movements grew weaker. Her eyes rolled back. And still, Shion didn't let go.
Then—
A crack of purple lightning split the air.
The strike hit Shion's shoulder, jolting her body with a spark so bright the whole field flinched. She released her grip instantly, sending the unconscious guard flying backward.
Before she hit the ground, a shimmering water dummy caught her midair—its hands gentle, its form liquid but steady.
Akari stood a few feet away, her expression fierce, her hands glowing as she controlled the dummy. Beside her stood Rin, fingertips still sparking with faint traces of lightning.
"What are you doing, Sister Shion!?" Akari shouted. The dummy laid the girl carefully on the ground as several guards rushed over to check her pulse.
"What the hell is happening here?!" Rin demanded, her voice sharp as thunder still buzzed around her.
Shion blinked, her expression shifting. "We're just training, that's all," she said softly. Her voice was calm again, almost too calm. She turned toward Rin, forcing a small smile. "Nothing much is happening."
"Nothing much?" Akari snapped, stepping forward. "You were going to kill that guard! Did you even realize what you were doing?"
Shion didn't answer. Her eyes slid past Akari, focusing only on Rin. She walked toward her slowly, ignoring her sister's voice.
"Rin," Shion said with a small tilt of her head. "What are you doing here this early morning?"
Rin's gaze stayed locked on her. "We heard noise coming from the field," she replied. "Turns out you were… trying to kill someone."
"I wasn't trying to kill her," Shion said again, her tone too smooth. "Like I said—we were just training." She smiled faintly, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"Training?" Rin's voice grew colder. "That didn't look like training. That looked like cruel killing."
She tapped her chin thoughtfully, lightning still dancing around her fingertips. Then her eyes narrowed slightly—catching something unusual.
In one corner, she noticed Ice standing silent, blending into the background, his presence faint but unmistakable. Had he seen everything?.
And then, just as Rin's gaze returned to Shion, something delicate caught her eye—
a black-and-yellow butterfly rested gently on Shion's shoulder, its wings moving in slow, haunting flutters.
"Anyway, I'm done training," Shion said casually, her voice suddenly light again. "See you at breakfast, Rin."
She turned to leave but paused when she reached Akari's side.
"Huh," she sighed, glancing at the water dummy still standing behind her sister.
"Didn't know you could even form a dummy. Looks like little sister's been training in secret."
For a brief moment, her expression shifted—an unreadable smile curved across her lips, something between admiration and mockery. Then, without another word, she walked away, the butterfly still perched on her shoulder, fluttering softly as it followed her every step.
Rin watched her go, frowning.
"Since when does a butterfly follow cousin Shion?" she muttered, walking over to Akari, who was still staring at the unconscious guard.
"What butterfly?" Akari asked, blinking in confusion.
Rin turned sharply to her. "You don't see it? The black-and-yellow butterfly on her shoulder?"
Akari tilted her head. "No… I don't see anything."
Rin's eyes widened a little. "Heyyy—what do you mean you don't see it?" she said, half in disbelief, half in frustration.
But Akari only looked at her blankly.
Rin glanced back toward Shion's direction—yet by then, both Shion and the butterfly had already disappeared beyond the mist rising from the water field.
And in that strange, lingering silence, Rin realized she was the only one who had seen it.