Flames roared behind me. The sky bled red over the city, and the air stank of smoke and dust.
Kaisel's greatsword came down like a meteor. I blocked it, sparks bursting in every direction. The impact sent a wave through my arms that nearly tore the sword from my hands.
I pushed back, sliding my feet through broken stone, then stepped in and swung across his chest. The hit landed hard, denting the armor, but he didn't slow down.
Another swing, wider this time. The air cracked when it passed me. I ducked and countered low, my blade cutting through smoke.
The street around us was littered with rubble, flames crawling up the sides of fallen towers. Through the haze, I saw shapes moving—figures slumped against broken walls, others watching through the flicker of firelight. Their armor was cracked, blood staining what was left of it.
They weren't fighting anymore. They couldn't.
One of them tried to stand, then dropped again, clutching their arm. Another limped forward a few steps before collapsing near the edge of the street.
I tightened my grip on my sword. I shouldn't have been here. I knew that. But the moment I saw the city burning, I couldn't stay behind.
Kaisel stepped forward, dragging his weapon through the ground. The blade left a scar in the stone, glowing faintly red.
He swung. I caught the hit mid-air, teeth grinding from the strain. The shockwave pushed back the fire, then sucked it in again like the whole world was breathing around us.
"You think this'll stop us?" His voice echoed through the helmet, distorted and deep.
"You won't hurt anyone else."
I pushed his blade away and moved fast, cutting for the joint in his side. He turned, blocking with the flat of his sword, then slammed his knee into my chest. The air left my lungs. I stumbled back but didn't fall.
He came at me again. Each step shook the ground. I sidestepped the first swing, deflected the second, and tried to get inside his reach. The armor was thick, too thick, but if I could break his rhythm—
Our swords met again. Sparks showered between us. The flames painted his armor orange and black, his silhouette towering over me.
Behind him, the world burned louder. A building crumbled somewhere close, stone crashing into the street. The shock made my knees wobble.
I heard someone shout my name. The voice was faint, distant. I couldn't look back.
Kaisel's sword tore through the ground where I'd been standing. I rolled, came up swinging, and sliced through a crack in his shoulder plate. A sliver of black metal fell away.
He barely reacted.
The force of his next hit knocked my sword out wide. He followed immediately with another, this one straight down. I caught it at the last second. The impact exploded through my arms, and I dropped to one knee.
The heat from the fires pressed against my skin. My body was shaking from exhaustion. My vision blurred from the smoke, but I kept my eyes on him.
Kaisel raised his sword again.
I moved first.
I lunged forward, slashing upward, forcing him to backstep. I could feel the blood dripping from my arm where his last strike grazed me. It didn't matter. I pushed again, one hit after another, trying to keep him on defense.
Sparks flew with every swing. The clang of metal swallowed the city's sounds. For a moment, it was just us—two shadows tearing through the ruins.
He blocked my last strike and shoved me back, the power behind it sending me skidding through the ash. My boots dug into the ground to stop.
I could see the figures behind me more clearly now through the haze—faces dirt-streaked, eyes wide, barely standing. Some of them looked ready to move, others too weak to lift their weapons.
They'd fought before I got here. They'd fought hard.
Kaisel's armor cracked again as he stepped closer, the red light under the plates flickering like embers. He didn't rush. He didn't need to.
"You should've stayed hidden," he said. The words came low, steady, almost quiet under the fire.
"I don't care."
I raised my sword again, both hands tight on the hilt. "This ends now."
He didn't reply.
He swung.
The force of it made the ground shatter. I rolled left, came up behind him, and brought my blade down on the back of his neck. It bit through half the plate before stopping. He spun, slamming his gauntlet into my chest, sending me flying into the side of a broken wall.
Pain exploded through my ribs.
I hit the ground hard, coughed once, and forced myself up before he could close in. My legs wobbled, but I stayed standing. I could feel the tremor in my hands, the weight of my weapon dragging lower every second.
He was already there, his blade cutting through the firelight.
I blocked. Our swords locked together. He pushed down, inch by inch, until the metal pressed against my shoulder.
I twisted to the side and used everything I had left to shove him off balance. My sword swung upward, grazing his helmet. A line of sparks danced across the steel.
He turned his head slightly, like the hit didn't matter, then came again.
We traded blows—fast, desperate.
The fires around us flared each time our blades met. The street was a storm of ash and flame. My muscles screamed for me to stop, but I kept going, every motion automatic.
Finally, I caught him off guard. My blade slipped through his defense, slashing across his chest and breaking through the top layer of armor.
He dropped to one knee.
This was it.
I took the chance, drove my sword forward toward his chest.
The air froze.
Something hit me in the stomach before I realized what happened. The impact felt like getting punched by lightning.
I looked down. His sword was already through me.
The greatsword's point stuck out from my back, the edge glowing faintly red in the firelight.
Everything went quiet.
My breath caught in my throat. The pain came a second later — sharp, deep, spreading like fire under my skin.
Kaisel stood close, his armor cracked and smoking. His face hidden behind that black helmet.
He didn't say a word.
The world slowed. I could see the shapes of the others in the distance — some trying to move toward us, others frozen, watching. I wanted to tell them to stay back, but my voice was gone.
My grip loosened. My sword slipped from my hand and clattered to the ground.
Kaisel twisted the blade once. The sound that came out of me didn't even feel human.
My knees gave out.
The world tilted sideways. The ground rushed up to meet me.
The fires blurred together into one long smear of orange light. The sky started to fade into gray.
The last thing I saw was their faces.
Then everything went dark.
**
I woke up with my hand on my chest.
For a second, I couldn't breathe. The sound of the fires was still in my ears. The weight of the blade was still in my body. My heart hammered against my palm like it was trying to punch its way out.
No steel. No heat. Just cloth. Just skin.
The room was dim, washed in a thin blue light leaking through the curtains. The familiar shape of my desk sat in the corner. The old dresser against the wall. The crack in the ceiling I had stared at a hundred times.
Not a burning city. Not ruins.
My room.
The smell hit me next. Not smoke. Flowers.
It drifted up from downstairs, soft and clean. A mix of soil, water, and something faintly sweet. Mom must have opened the front of the shop already.
I turned my head on the pillow and stared at the window. My chest rose and fell too fast. Sweat clung to my shirt, sticking the fabric to my skin. I felt like I'd actually been stabbed.
It took a moment before my brain caught up. Just a dream.
The same dream.
My fingers slowly uncurled from my shirt. I let my hand drop to my side and listened.
For a few seconds, the house was quiet.
Then Yui's voice tore through the silence.
"Kin! Get up already!"
Her shout came from somewhere below, muffled by floorboards but still way too loud for morning.
I closed my eyes for a second.
"Kin! I know you're awake! Mom said if you make her reheat breakfast again she's cutting your portion!"
There it was.
I pushed myself up and sat on the edge of the bed. My head throbbed a little. My legs felt heavy, like I had actually been fighting all night instead of laying here.
I rubbed the heel of my hand over my face and glanced at the small mirror propped on the dresser. My hair was a mess. White strands stuck up in every direction, damp with sweat. There were faint shadows under my emerald eyes.
I looked like I hadn't slept in days.
Maybe I hadn't. Not properly.
"Kin!"
"I'm coming," I called back, my voice rough.
I stood and crossed the room, bare feet moving over the old wooden floor. My hand brushed against the edge of my desk as I passed. The wood was smooth, familiar. Solid.
I stopped by the window and pulled the curtain aside.
Redmere sat outside, quiet and calm. The sky was clear, painted with soft morning light. Thin trails of smoke rose from chimneys, not from burning towers, but from kitchen fires and bakeries starting their day.
Roofs.
Trees.
Stone streets.
People moving in the distance.
No flames. No rubble. No him.
My fingers tightened on the fabric.
It felt wrong, sometimes, how peaceful it all looked.
I let the curtain fall back into place.
The house always sounded the same in the morning.
Plates clinking. The faint scrape of chairs on the floor. Mom's soft footsteps moving between the kitchen and the front of the shop. Yui's voice bouncing off every wall it could find.
By the time I made it downstairs, Yui was already at the small table, leaning over her bowl like it might vanish if she looked away.
She glanced up when she heard the step creak under my weight.
"There he is," she said, grinning. "Thought you died in your sleep."
"Yui," Mom said from the stove. Her voice was calm, gentle, but that one word made Yui shrink a little in her seat.
"Kidding," she muttered into her food.
I pulled out my chair and sat down. The table was small and worn, but clean. The window beside it looked out on the street, where the shadows of people passed by now and then.
Mom turned and set a bowl in front of me. Steam rose from the soup, carrying the smell of broth and herbs. Fresh bread sat in a small basket between us.
Her eyes lingered on my face a little too long.
"It was loud," she said quietly. "Yui calling for you, I mean."
"I had to," Yui said. "He doesn't wake up like a normal person. I bet he would sleep through an earthquake."
"I woke up," I said. My voice came out softer than I meant it. "I'm here."
Mom's gaze moved for a moment to my forehead, to the faint scar just at the hairline. Her hand twitched like she wanted to reach out, then she caught herself and turned back to the counter.
"You look tired," she said, her back to me now.
"Just went to sleep late."
"You always say that," Yui said through a mouthful of bread.
"Chew," Mom said.
Yui chewed, rolling her eyes, but listened.
I picked up my spoon and took a slow sip. The soup was hot enough to make my tongue sting a little. It was good, though. It always was.
The dream still sat behind my eyes. Kaisel's sword. The voices. The heat. Every time I blinked, I saw that red glow pushing through the cracks in his armor.
It was stupid. Just my brain replaying things that never happened. Making up new ways to kill me while I slept.
"Any plans after class today?" Mom asked. Her tone was light, casual, like she was asking about the weather.
"Homework," I said.
"Homework is not a plan," Yui said.
"What is, then?" I asked.
She stabbed her spoon into her bowl and held up a finger like she was giving a speech.
"Fun," she said. "That is a plan."
"Fun can be a plan," Mom said quietly, amusement under her words.
"See?" Yui said. "Mom agrees. You should do something fun after school for once instead of locking yourself in your room and doing whatever you do in there."
She squinted at me suspiciously.
"I do homework," I said.
"Nobody has that much homework."
"You would if you did yours."
"Kin," Mom said again, gentle warning this time.
Yui stuck her tongue out at me and went back to eating.
Mom moved past us toward the front of the house. The door to the shop was half open, and narrow shelves lined the walls beyond, filled with flowers and small plants in clay pots. Light had started to spill through the glass, casting faint colors onto the floor where petals brushed the windows.
"I need to finish setting up before customers start coming in," Mom said. "Eat all of it. Both of you."
"Yes, ma'am," Yui said with a salute, already grabbing for more bread.
I watched Mom for a second as she disappeared into the shop. Her back was straight, posture calm, movements smooth. She always moved like that. Quiet. Controlled. Like the world could fall apart outside and she would still be able to put a bouquet together with steady hands.
My hands didn't feel steady.
I finished the soup anyway.
**
Redmere always felt different once I stepped outside alone.
Inside the house, everything was tight. The walls knew too much. The table. The stairs. They remembered every argument, every night someone didn't come home, every heavy silence after.
Out here, all that spread out.
The street in front of the shop curved gently down toward the center of town. Stone buildings lined both sides, stacked close together, their roofs slanting in slightly uneven angles. Windowsills overflowed with plants Aiko had either sold or given away over the years. Some were still alive. Some clung on.
Vendors rolled carts into place, their wheels thudding softly over the stone. A man across from our shop was already setting up a stand for fruit, lining them up in neat rows. Further down, I could see the baker's door open, a wave of warm air drifting out, carrying the smell of fresh bread that Yui somehow always smelled first.
People nodded when they saw me.
"Morning, Kin."
"Morning."
"Tell Aiko the white lilies yesterday were perfect."
"I will."
Their eyes lingered a second longer than their words. Some flicked briefly to my hair, to the scar at my forehead, then away. Like they tried not to stare.
I wasn't famous. Redmere wasn't that kind of town. But names traveled, even here. They traveled faster than people.
Noro.
I kept walking.
The air was cool this early. A little mist still clung low over the ground in the distance, thinning as the sun climbed. Birds hopped along the roof edges, chattering at each other, occasionally dropping down to peck at crumbs near the stands.
Nothing like the city in my dream. No shouting. No fire. No metal slamming against metal. Just the low hum of people starting their day.
My shoulder still ached like I'd been thrown into a wall.
I flexed my fingers at my side. They felt fine. My shirt brushed against my chest with each step, and every time it did my body waited for the stab of pain that didn't come.
It left a weird emptiness behind.
"Kin!"
The voice cut through the street before I saw her. A second later, a streak of red shoved through the small crowd ahead, moving like it was allergic to walking in straight lines.
Kendra.
She hopped off the curb, nearly tripping over a crate, then caught herself and rushed toward me with way too much energy for this time of day. Her crimson hair was pulled back in a short tie that looked like it would fall apart any second, strands already slipping free around her face. The little fang she had showed when she grinned.
"There you are," she said, planting herself in front of me like a wall. "Thought you ditched us and transferred to some fancy academy in the night."
"I live on the same street," I said. "You can see my house from yours."
"That is not the point."
"What is the point?"
She opened her mouth, paused, then frowned.
"...I don't know yet," she admitted. "But if it was a point, it would have been a good one."
"Strong argument," I said.
She squinted at me like she was deciding whether to shove me or not.
"You look like you got hit by a wagon," she said instead.
"Thanks."
"Did you stay up all night again?"
"No."
"Liar."
I didn't respond. Her gaze softened for half a second, then she waved it away with her hand.
"Whatever. You can nap in class. Hana loves that."
"Hana does not love that," a quieter voice said behind her.
We both turned.
Jasper jogged up to us, already slightly out of breath despite the short distance. His brown hair stuck out at strange angles from the rush, and he was trying to adjust his glasses at the same time as he clutched a stack of books against his chest.
"You started running halfway down the street," he said to Kendra, panting. "You know some people are not built for that."
"Weak," she said.
"I carry all my materials," he shot back. "You bring a single notebook and still forget it half the time."
Kendra gasped like he had stabbed her.
"How dare you," she said. "I am deeply wounded, Jasper."
"Good," he said. "Maybe you'll sit still for once."
I felt something in my chest relax. Just a little.
"Morning," Jasper said, turning to me. His voice was softer when he addressed me, less sharp. "You okay? You look tired."
"Why does everyone keep saying that?" I asked.
"Because you do," Kendra said.
I shrugged. "I'm fine."
Jasper studied my face like he didn't quite believe me, then nodded anyway. He always nodded, even when he was still clearly thinking the opposite.
"We're going to be late if we stand here forever," he said.
"We're not going to be late," Kendra said. "We are going to walk with passion."
"That is not a speed," Jasper said.
"It is if you try," she said, already wandering ahead like she couldn't stand in one spot too long, even in the middle of an argument.
I fell into step beside them as we moved toward the academy. Kendra walked with her hands folded behind her head, elbows out, taking up as much space as possible. Jasper walked slightly hunched, carefully making sure his books did not slide out of his grip, constantly adjusting his glasses when they slipped down his nose.
We passed the main square. The fountain in the center was running already, water spilling over worn stone. A couple of younger kids chased each other around the edge, their shoes slapping against the wet patches and almost sliding out from under them.
"One day they are going to fall in," Jasper said.
"And then they will learn," Kendra said.
"That is not a teaching method."
"It works."
We took the street that sloped up toward the northern side of town. The academy sat there, slightly raised, its pale stone walls catching the light. Trees lined the path leading up to the main gate, their leaves shaking gently in the breeze.
As we walked, a man pulling a cart full of crates stepped into our path. He didn't see us at first. Jasper pulled up short. Kendra didn't bother slowing down.
"Move," she said.
The man blinked at her, then laughed and rolled his cart to the side.
"Morning, troublemaker," he said.
"Morning, old man," she said back, grinning at him.
His gaze flicked over me for a second. His expression shifted, just a little.
"Morning, Kin," he added.
"Morning," I said.
He nodded once, polite, then returned to his work.
Kendra waited until we passed him.
"People are weird around you," she said in a normal voice. No whisper. No attempt at being subtle.
"Maybe they're weird around you," I said.
She put a hand on her chest.
"They love me."
Jasper snorted quietly.
"They tolerate you," he said.
She gasped again. "Betrayal. From my own squad."
"We are not a squad," I said.
"We are absolutely a squad," she said. "What else would we be?"
"Friends," Jasper said.
"That is boring," she replied. "Squad is cooler."
"Please stop saying squad," Jasper said.
**
We reached the academy gate before she could come up with another reason why we were, in fact, a squad.
Redmere Academy was not impressive if you were used to capital cities and grand halls. It was a simple building, two stories tall, made of pale stone blocks that had seen enough years to show it. Vines crept along one side of the wall, and the paint on the wooden doors was a little chipped.
But it was solid. Familiar.
Students milled around the front, some in small groups, others standing alone. A few practiced throws or forms on the packed dirt area off to the side, their movements sharp, a little too sharp to be normal. Nothing dramatic, just enough that if you watched closely, their feet did not fall exactly like a regular person's would.
Most people did not watch closely.
I did.
Not for long.
"Look, it is your favorite person," Kendra said, nodding toward a boy leaning against the wall near the entrance.
I did not have a favorite person. Especially not him.
Rian glanced up as we approached. He was taller than me by a little, with short dark hair and the kind of face that always looked like it was smirking, even when it wasn't. Today, it was.
"Noro," he said. He did not say my first name.
"Kendra, Jasper," he added, like we were an afterthought.
Kendra crossed her arms. "What do you want?"
"Nothing," he said. "Just saying hello. Is that a crime now?"
"The way you say it, maybe," she muttered.
His eyes settled back on me. They drifted up to my hair, then to my forehead, like they always did, then down again.
"Big things for you this year," he said. "Heard the whole town is looking forward to seeing what you do."
He smiled like it was a compliment. It didn't sound like one.
I held his gaze for a second.
"Then they are going to be disappointed," I said.
Kendra snorted.
Rian's smile thinned a little. His stare lingered on me, searching for something, then he pushed himself off the wall.
"We will see," he said, and walked away.
Kendra spun to face me. "I hate him."
"He is not that bad," Jasper said automatically, then quickly added, "He is a little bad."
"He is a lot bad," Kendra said. "You do not taunt people before class. That should be a rule."
"I am pretty sure it is," Jasper said.
Kendra turned back toward the doors, muttering something under her breath about kicking Rian into the fountain.
I just breathed out slowly.
This was how it always was. They never said Kentaro's name. Not directly. They did not have to. Everyone knew who they meant when they said Noro like that. When they said expectations.
If I let myself think about it too long, my chest felt tight. So I didn't.
We went inside.
**
The first class of the day was reading and writing with Hana Mirel.
Her classroom always smelled like chalk dust and old paper. Sunlight slid in from the tall windows, landing in long rectangles on the wooden floor. Desks were arranged in neat rows facing the front, where a blackboard took up most of the wall.
Kendra took her usual seat beside me and immediately slouched back like she was preparing to sleep through the entire lesson. Jasper sat on my other side, already unpacking his materials and setting them up in a perfectly ordered line.
Hana stood at the front, flipping through a small stack of notes. She was young for a teacher, maybe in her mid twenties, with dark hair tied back and a calm, steady way of speaking that made even grammar sound like it mattered.
"Good morning," she said, without raising her voice. The room quieted.
"Morning," the class answered, more or less in sync.
"Open your books to where we left off yesterday," she said. "We will go through the passage again, then I will have some of you read."
Kendra groaned quietly beside me.
"If she calls on me I am going to jump out the window," she whispered.
"You can not even read quietly," Jasper whispered back. "You trip over your own name."
She lightly kicked his foot.
I opened my book and tried to focus on the words. The letters swam for a second, still plastered with images from the dream. Kaisel's armor. The faces behind him. The way everything had gone quiet.
My hand tightened around the edge of the page before I forced it to relax.
Hana asked for volunteers. A few hands went up. She chose someone in the front. The boy stood and began reading, stumbling once or twice over the phrasing. His voice faded in and out as my mind wandered.
We had another assignment today. Some essay about perspective or something. Normally I would care at least enough to keep up. Right now, my brain was occupied with trying not to think about a sword sticking out of my chest.
"Kin."
My head snapped up.
Hana was looking directly at me.
Several students turned their heads. Kendra sighed loudly.
"Yes," I said.
"You are somewhere very far from this room," she said, not unkindly. "Would you like to come back and join us?"
"Sorry," I said.
A couple of people snickered. It died quickly when Hana glanced in their direction.
She didn't say anything else, just pointed at a line in her own book. "Start here," she said. "You can read the next paragraph."
I found the place and read. My voice sounded steady enough. The words came out slow but clear. When I finished, she nodded.
"Thank you," she said, and moved on.
The embarrassment faded after a moment. The gaze from the others did not. I could feel it, little glances thrown my way and then quickly pulled back.
Noro forgot he was in the room. Noro must be thinking of great things. Noro must be bored.
They didn't know anything.
Class continued. Hana went back to the lesson. Kendra wrote something rude in the margin of her notebook and underlined it three times like it would help her remember. Jasper took notes so fast I wondered if his hand ever cramped.
By the time the bell rang, my head felt heavy in a different way. Normal tired. School tired.
We filed out into the hall for break. The courtyard outside was already filling with students. The center had a paved area with a low wall running along one side. That was where Kendra always went. Today was no different.
She hopped up onto it, balancing easily as she walked along, arms stretched out like she was daring gravity to pick a fight. Jasper hovered nearby like he was waiting to catch her if she fell, despite the fact that she never did.
I sat on the wall itself, feet on the ground, leaning back on my hands.
"So," Kendra said. "How are we all feeling this fine morning of learning?"
"Normal," Jasper said.
"Dead," I said.
"See?" she said. "Honesty. That is what I like."
She hopped down and turned to face us, walking backwards as we stayed seated.
"Do you think Hana hates me?" she asked.
"Yes," Jasper said immediately.
"No," I said.
"I think she just wants you to read at a pace faster than a dying slug," Jasper added.
"I tried," Kendra said. "The words are too small. They all blend together."
"That is not how words work," he said.
"It is how my words work," she said.
I let their bickering wash over me. The sky above the courtyard was a clear, pale blue. No smoke, no red. A single cloud drifted slowly across, thin and stretched.
I watched it longer than I meant to.
For a second, the edges of it burned in my vision. Orange bled into the blue, the shape twisting, shifting into something else. A tower. A falling wall. A smear of fire.
My fingers curled against the stone.
"Kin."
I blinked. The cloud was just a cloud again.
Jasper was looking at me.
"You spaced out again," he said quietly.
"I'm fine," I said.
"You always say that," Kendra said, dropping back onto the wall beside me. She bumped her shoulder into mine. "One day I am going to catch you saying something else and I will frame it."
"Frame what?" I asked.
"The moment."
"That is not how frames work," Jasper said automatically.
Kendra threw a small pebble at him. It bounced off his shoe.
"Ow," he said.
"It did not even hit you," she said.
"It emotionally hit me," he replied.
I exhaled, and it almost sounded like a laugh. Almost.
The bell rang again, sharp and short. Students groaned, scattered, then started filing back inside.
Kendra hopped off the wall. "Come on," she said. "Time for more thrilling education."
Jasper adjusted his glasses and followed.
I pushed myself to my feet and joined them.