Morning broke over Astral Academy with the kind of deceptive calm that made you suspicious something had to go wrong soon.
Kenshin Hoshimiya trudged across the courtyard, half-awake and carrying a slice of toast between his teeth like every protagonist who had lost the will to cook. Ayame walked beside him, balancing a notebook on her head just to prove she could multitask.
"You know," Kenshin said around a mouthful of bread, "you don't have to follow me everywhere."
"Sure I do," Ayame said cheerfully. "If I don't, you'll either skip class or pick a fight with someone."
"I don't pick fights."
"You attract them like moths to a flame."
"That's slander."
"True slander," she replied.
They turned the corner into the assembly hall—only to be greeted by chaos.
Students crowded the board where the team rotations had been posted overnight. Names were written in neat glowing script, but the air around the crowd buzzed with outrage, disbelief, and, in some cases, faint sobbing.
"...What's happening?" Kenshin asked.
Hiro appeared from the mob, clutching a slip of parchment and wearing an expression halfway between horror and amusement. "You're gonna love this."
"Define 'love,'" Kenshin said.
"You. Me. Ayame. And Katsumi."
Ayame blinked. "Wait, again?"
"Yep," Hiro said, holding up the sheet. "Team 4B: Hoshimiya, Uzaki, Katsumi, and Hiro 'Cardio-Is-Evil' Tanaka."
Kenshin sighed. "So basically, it's the Team of Constant Headaches. Great."
Ayame tilted her head. "It could be worse."
"Oh, really? How?"
Just then, a tall boy with grayish-black hair and dark circles under his eyes shuffled toward them. He looked like someone had dragged him out of bed, thrown him in uniform, and whispered "good luck" before slamming the door.
"I'm your fifth member," he said flatly.
Hiro blinked. "Wait, fifth? They're adding five-person teams now?"
"Special evaluation," the newcomer muttered, pulling a folded note from his sleeve. "Headmaster's orders."
Kenshin raised an eyebrow. "And you are?"
The boy looked up, eyes sharp despite his gloomy tone. "Seiran."
Kenshin froze. That name again.
Ayame glanced between them, sensing the tension. "Uh… you two know each other?"
Seiran's gaze lingered on Kenshin for a beat too long before replying, "Let's just say we've crossed paths."
Katsumi's voice rang out from behind them. "If we're done staring dramatically, can we actually get to training?"
"Good morning to you too," Hiro muttered.
Katsumi ignored him and started walking. "Headmaster said rotations start with combat evaluation. Five-man duels. Be ready."
Kenshin groaned. "It's always duels. Why can't we ever have a 'make friends and drink tea' exercise?"
Ayame smiled sweetly. "Because you'd probably burn the tea."
***
By the time Team 4B arrived at the field, other groups were already forming circles under the instructors' watch. Magical barriers shimmered between dueling zones.
Professor Makabe stood at the center, clipboard in hand. "Listen up! These rotations will determine your placement for the term. Team chemistry, performance, and mana control will all be graded. Remember—no lethal force, no summoning without clearance, and no crying if you lose."
Hiro whispered, "He says that last one for me, I swear."
Ayame nudged him. "Then don't cry this time."
"I'll cry if I want to. It's my emotional release."
Kenshin rolled his eyes, pulling his sword free and feeling the hum of mana beneath his skin. Yoshino's presence flickered faintly in his chest—a silent pulse of energy, watching, waiting, but not intruding.
Makabe's voice cut through the noise. "Team 4B, you're up first. Against Team 3A."
"Seriously?" Hiro groaned. "That's Koga's team. He hates us."
Kenshin grinned faintly. "Perfect. Let's ruin his morning."
***
"Begin!"
The whistle blew, and chaos erupted.
Koga charged forward, blades glowing with crimson energy. Kenshin met him halfway, sparks flying with every clash. Ayame moved behind, wind circling her hands as she deflected projectiles. Katsumi darted around the flank, her strikes precise and surgical.
Hiro?
Hiro was pretending to look for a "better vantage point."
"Hey!" Kenshin yelled. "We could use an extra hand!"
"I'm providing moral support!" Hiro shouted back, ducking under a lightning bolt.
"Provide real support!"
Seiran stood still, eyes glowing faint blue. He lifted one hand, and suddenly half the field froze mid-motion—arrows suspended in the air, dust caught like a photograph.
Kenshin stumbled back. "...What the—?"
"Temporal displacement," Seiran said calmly. "You're welcome."
Ayame blinked in awe. "That's incredible!"
Katsumi frowned. "That kind of magic drains mana like crazy. You shouldn't—"
"I said you're welcome," Seiran interrupted, before flicking his wrist. The frozen scene shattered back into motion, leaving their opponents sprawled and disoriented.
Makabe lowered his clipboard, unimpressed. "Team 4B… wins. Somehow."
Hiro threw his arms up. "We're undefeated, baby!"
Katsumi groaned. "You didn't even do anything!"
"I did emotional damage!"
***
They collapsed on the grass after the duel, breathless and laughing—well, except Seiran, who looked like laughter might physically hurt him.
"That was actually fun," Ayame admitted, brushing hair from her face.
Kenshin smirked. "See? My disasters sometimes work out."
"Emphasis on sometimes," Katsumi muttered.
Seiran stood, his expression unreadable. "Don't get too comfortable. These matches are a cover."
Kenshin frowned. "A cover for what?"
"Observation," Seiran said quietly. "The Headmaster's monitoring every mana surge across campus. The rotations are a convenient excuse to measure students' resonance."
Ayame blinked. "Wait—what kind of resonance?"
"The kind that reacts to unstable aether currents," Seiran replied. "Something's shifting beneath the academy. He's trying to find out who's linked to it."
Kenshin's hand tightened around his sword. "And you're just casually telling us this?"
Seiran gave a faint smile. "Consider it a favor."
Then, without another word, he turned and walked off.
Hiro whispered, "So… he's gloomy, mysterious, and casually drops conspiracy theories. I like him."
"Of course you do," Kenshin muttered.
***
Elsewhere, Headmaster Ryouji sat surrounded by glowing mana charts. His fingertips traced the air, forming new diagrams in shimmering light.
The readings from the last duel were unsettling—fluctuations spiking wherever Hoshimiya fought. It wasn't just power; it was resonance.
He murmured, "That same distortion again. Like someone's rewriting the academy's circuits while standing in plain sight."
A knock at the door pulled him from thought.
"Enter."
Professor Makabe stepped in, setting down his clipboard. "The rotations went smoothly. No injuries. Except Hiro's pride."
Ryouji didn't smile. "Did you notice anything unusual about Seiran?"
Makabe hesitated. "He's… quieter than before. More deliberate. Like he's searching for something."
Ryouji's eyes darkened. "He's searching for the same thing I am."
He turned to the window. Outside, the academy's towers shimmered faintly—not from sunlight, but from thin veins of magic crawling along the stone like veins beneath skin.
"Whatever's buried here," he whispered, "is waking up."
***
Kenshin lay sprawled on his bed, staring at the ceiling. His muscles ached, his mind buzzed, and Hiro was narrating their fight from the next bunk like a sports commentator.
"And then I—"
"You hid behind a crate," Kenshin interrupted.
"Strategically," Hiro said proudly. "Cover tactics!"
Ayame poked her head in through the doorway. "Dinner's ready. And before you ask, no, I didn't cook."
"Thank the gods," Kenshin muttered.
She threw a pillow at him. "Hey!"
Yoshino's faint presence brushed through Kenshin's thoughts, her voice soft. You laugh more lately.
He blinked, momentarily startled. You spying again?
Observing. You're stronger when you're not alone.
He couldn't argue with that.
***
Breakfast was chaos. Again.
Katsumi glared at Hiro for stealing her toast. Ayame was trying to mediate peace talks. Itsuki was sketching all of them mid-argument, labeling the drawing "Breakfast of Dysfunction."
Kenshin just wanted coffee.
As he reached for the kettle, Seiran appeared beside him—quiet as a shadow.
"You're being watched," Seiran said.
Kenshin blinked. "...Good morning to you too?"
"Headmaster's monitoring your mana signatures. He thinks you're linked to the anomalies."
"Well, that's comforting."
"Don't act surprised," Seiran said. "When you summoned Yoshino, you changed the flow of this academy."
Kenshin exhaled slowly. "And what about you? You said you know Kuro. How?"
For the first time, Seiran's composure cracked—just a flicker.
"I'll tell you," he said finally, "but not here."
***
That night, Seiran led Kenshin through the lesser-used corridors beneath the academy. Dust coated the floor, and the air hummed faintly with mana residue.
"This place feels like it hasn't been touched in years," Kenshin whispered.
"It hasn't," Seiran said. "Because they don't want anyone remembering what's under it."
He pressed his palm to the wall. Runes flared briefly, revealing a hidden archway.
Inside was a vast chamber—a sealed vault pulsing with dormant energy.
Kenshin stared. "What is this…?"
"The Academy's heart," Seiran said. "It channels mana from the entire region. But it's corrupted. The Headmaster calls it 'a distortion.' Kuro called it something else."
Kenshin's breath hitched. "You talked to him?"
"Once," Seiran admitted. "Before he vanished. He said the distortion feeds on emotion. Fear. Anger. Despair. That's why the Academy trains us so hard—to keep those feelings under control. If they spiral…"
"The distortion grows," Kenshin finished.
Seiran nodded. "Exactly."
They stood in silence for a moment. The faint pulse from the chamber echoed like a heartbeat, steady but wrong.
Kenshin turned to him. "So what happened to you, Seiran? Why do you care?"
Seiran's eyes dimmed. "Because I lost someone to it."
***
Back in his office, Headmaster Ryouji traced the same mana readings. Every pattern pointed to a single truth: the Academy's foundation—its so-called mana heart—wasn't just malfunctioning. It was feeding.
And the ones closest to it—students like Kenshin and Seiran—were its keys.
He closed the chart and exhaled. "If they find out before I do, we're all finished."
Outside, thunder rolled across the horizon, a low rumble that shook the towers.
***
Kenshin stood outside, hands in his pockets, watching the sky flash with distant lightning. Ayame joined him quietly, blanket wrapped around her shoulders.
"You're not sleeping either?" she asked.
"Couldn't. Too many thoughts."
She leaned beside him on the railing. "You always look like you're carrying the world."
"Feels like it lately."
"Then share it," she said softly. "You don't have to do it alone."
He looked at her, really looked this time, and for a moment, the storm didn't seem so heavy.
"Thanks," he said quietly.
Ayame smiled, nudging him lightly. "What are friends for?"
"Friends," Kenshin repeated. "Right."
Somewhere deep beneath the academy, the sealed chamber pulsed once—faintly, like a heartbeat responding to his words.