They peeled off in pairs—Daiki and Kenta toward the dorms, Ren promising to grab desserts and reconvene later. Haru hung back, rolling one ankle, then the other, working out a stubborn tightness in his calf.
He sensed Aoki before he saw him.
Not in a magical way—just the way people develop radar for certain presences. Aoki stepped from a shadow thrown by a lighting truss, hair damp at the temples as if he'd been working too.
"You did well," he said, voice low.
"You taught me well," Haru said. He meant it. Meant more than that, too, but the words were shy to leave.
They stood facing each other, the world narrowing to the quiet between them.
Haru lifted his hand without thinking and touched two fingers to his clavicle—the place Aoki had shown him scales. He didn't touch Aoki. Just mirrored the spot.
Aoki's breath hitched. Something flickered, just at the edge of his collar: a sheen, a shiver. The scales—there and not, like they only existed when his control slipped. He looked away, jaw tightening, then back—steady again.
"I meant what I said," Aoki murmured. "About waiting. I won't bring it up unless you do."
Haru nodded. He thought of Shiro telling him not to rush understanding. Of Ren's easy warmth. Of Daiki's jokes and Kenta's quiet count-ins. Of the way the chorus had felt like stepping into his own body for the first time.
"I don't know what I'm ready for," Haru said, honest to the bone.
Footsteps approached—Ren, jangling with victory desserts. "Pudding cavalry!" he declared, then froze, reading the air. "Oh.. Private moment?"
Haru jumped. "N-no, just… talking."
Aoki stepped back with the smallest nod to Ren. "Good work today," he said, and melted into the corridor like a shadow that knew where to rest.
Ren watched him go, then side-eyed Haru. "You okay?"
Haru took a pudding to his chest. "I think so."
Shiro found them after a while, said nothing, and accepted a pudding with gruff gratitude. For a few minutes, they were just three boys with sticky lids and sore muscles.
Back in the dorm, Haru climbed to his bunk carefully. The city cast a thin silver rectangle across the ceiling.
He didn't have answers yet. He didn't need them tonight.
What he had was a career that felt right, teammates who caught him when he turned, a friend who offered counsel by pretending it wasn't counsel, and a dragon who had promised to wait.
Haru released his breath, slow and even, tomorrow, the rankings would update. The training would intensify.
***
The new rankings were posted on Monday morning.
The board stretched floor-to-ceiling in the main hall, glowing pale blue against the polished tiles. Haru arrived early, half from nerves, half from habit. Trainees crowded the space, whispering anxiously as the names flickered into view.
Ren found him seconds later, hair sticking out in every direction. "Okay, if I drop ten places, I'm retiring to a farm."
"You'd last a day," Haru said softly.
Ren grinned. "True. I don't look good in overalls."
The names stopped scrolling. A soft chime confirmed the final update.
Ren leaned closer. "Where are we…?"
Haru's eyes traced the list, heartbeat thudding in his ears.
There.
Rank #5 – Haru TsukinoRank #6 – ShiroRank #9 – RenRank #10– DaikiRank #12 – Kenta
Haru blinked at the glowing screen. He'd moved up. Significantly.
Ren whooped so loud a few heads turned. "We did it! Top ten, baby!"
Haru laughed, the sound bubbling out of him before he could stop it. "I can't believe it…"
Shiro's voice came from behind them. "Believe it. You earned it."
Ren looked over his shoulder. "Is that… encouragement?"
"Observation," Shiro said smoothly, but the corner of his mouth twitched. "Don't expect a speech."
Daiki joined, carrying three canned coffees. "You guys seeing this? Top tier! I knew it would pay off."
Haru took the offered can, cheeks pink. "I didn't do it alone."
"Teamwork, man," Ren said, putting his arms around his team members "Echoes of Me? More like echoes of we."
"Please stop," Shiro muttered.