The chamber returned without ceremony. No bell this time. Just black walls and a floor that no longer reacted to his breathing. Seijuro stood where the light had deposited him, shoulders still tight, blade heavy against his back. The white bandages were darkened where blood had soaked through. He hadn't bothered rewrapping them. Frank was already there. Arms folded, posture loose. Lisa stood a little apart, hands folded in front of her, expression unreadable. Seijuro didn't bow, "You knew," he said.
His voice didn't rise. That almost made it worse. Frank's gaze lifted to him, "We…"
"You knew people could die," Seijuro cut in. "And you didn't say anything."
Silence settled between them. Lisa exhaled softly, eyes closing for half a second, like she was counting something only she could see. Frank pushed himself forward, "We knew," he said evenly. Seijuro's glare deepened, "Then explain," he said. "Because I watched them disappear. You let me walk in thinking this was just another exam."
Frank studied him for a moment longer than necessary, "You didn't walk in thinking that," Frank said. "You walked in knowing it was dangerous."
"That's not the same, is it?!" Seijuro snapped.
Lisa stepped in before Frank could respond, "We didn't lie," she said quietly. "We didn't promise safety, little brother."
"You implied it," Seijuro shot back. "You let people believe failure meant removal. Disqualification. Anything but…" He stopped himself, jaw tightening. "Anything but death. They had families probably."
Frank's expression softened, "You're angry," he said,
"Yeah, no shit," Seijuro said immediately.
Frank held his gaze. "You think that makes us heartless?"
"I think it makes you something," Seijuro said. "And I don't know if I like what."
Frank spoke softly. "You think we like this?"
Seijuro hesitated. Frank ran a hand through his hair, the gesture suddenly older, tired. "Every year, someone asks why we don't warn them properly. Every year, someone survives and hates us for it."
"And every year," Lisa added, "someone doesn't survive because they knew too much."
Seijuro frowned. "That doesn't…"
"It does," Frank said. "Fear behaves differently when it's expected. People brace wrong. Overcommit. Break early."
Lisa's eyes met Seijuro's. "You didn't break."
Silence again. Seijuro looked down at his hands. They were still shaking slightly now that the adrenaline had nowhere to go,
I nearly did, if mom hadn't helped.
Frank rolled closer, stopping just short of invading his space. His tone shifted,less instructor, more, familiar, "It's meant to represent the real field. You don't think we're sending you out against creatures that won't try to kill you. You should know that young Seijuro," he said.
Seijuro let out a slow breath. "So what…this is just how it is? People die, and we don't get told?"
Frank shrugged one shoulder. "People die whether we tell you or not."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only honest one."
Lisa looked at Seijuro then, not as an examiner, not as a Foundation figure, but as someone who had watched too many of these conversations repeat, "We didn't tell you," she said softly, "because you needed to step forward anyway."
Seijuro's jaw tightened. "And if I hadn't?"
Frank's expression hardened. "Then you wouldn't be here."
The words stung, but they didn't feel cruel. They felt final. Seijuro was quiet for a long moment. Then he nodded once, "I don't forgive you," he said.
Frank smiled faintly. "We didn't expect you to."
Lisa's lips curved, just barely. "But you understand, Seijuro-san."
Seijuro adjusted the strap of his blade, the white bandages shifting against his back, "Enough."
Frank clapped a hand lightly against his arm as he passed. "Good. That's usually when it sticks."
His anger had cooled into something heavier, less sharp but harder to shake. He adjusted the strap of his blade, feeling the familiar weight settle between his shoulders. Footsteps echoed behind him. Seijuro turned. She stood a few paces away, posture straight but unforced, like someone used to command without needing to announce it.
Her hair was a deep, muted blue, the color darkened where it was tied back into a long tail that fell down her spine. Loose strands framed her face, catching the low light. A single rose, pressed and preserved, petals pale and faintly luminescent, was pinned into her hair just above her ear, its color almost white with a hint of frost-blue at the edges. Her eyes matched the rose. Light blue. Clear. Steady. She wore a cloak the same shade as a winter sky, the fabric layered and reinforced, falling cleanly over fitted knight's armor. The plates weren't decorative, each piece was worn smooth at the edges, etched with fine, practical grooves rather than crests or symbols. The metal was pale, almost silvered, catching the chamber's light softly instead of reflecting it harshly. Leather straps crossed her torso with deliberate symmetry, securing the armor without restricting movement,
Another Captain…
She stopped at a respectful distance and inclined her head slightly. "Seijuro Yoshiki?"
He stiffened a fraction. "Captain."
The title came out automatically, though he didn't remember being told her rank.
A faint smile touched her mouth, not amusement, just acknowledgment. "Rose Koyama," she said.
Her voice was calm, smooth, with an edge of authority that didn't need reinforcement, "I watched your trials," she continued. "You move with restraint. Most don't."
Rose studied him for a moment longer, then reached beneath her cloak and withdrew a folded document. She didn't hand it to him yet,
"You'll be assigned to your first scouting mission in a week," she said. "Standard evaluation period."
Seijuro frowned slightly. "Already?"
"Yes." She paused, eyes narrowing just enough to suggest calculation. "You won't be alone."
That got his attention. Rose finally held out the document. "You've been partnered."
Seijuro accepted it but didn't open it yet, "With who?"
"My sister."
The answer was immediate.
Seijuro looked up. "Your…"
"Lily Koyama," Rose said, already turning as if the name required no explanation, "She'll be reporting to you as an equal partner."
Something in her tone made Seijuro pause, "She passed the exam," Rose added.
Seijuro's brow furrowed. Pale hair. Calm balance. Rose adjusted the edge of her cloak, the rose in her hair catching the light as she did, "You haven't met her properly yet, but you will," she continued, "Before the mission."
She took a step back, already disengaging. "Prepare accordingly. Lily is capable, but she doesn't tolerate hesitation."
Her gaze met his again, sharp but not threatening. "And neither do I."
Then, softer, almost personal, "Don't make me regret this assignment."
Seijuro straightened. "I won't."
Rose nodded once, satisfied. As she turned to leave, the pale-blue cloak shifted around her armor like falling snow, footsteps fading into the stone. Seijuro looked down at the document in his hand,
A partner. In a week. Another thing I wasn't told.
He didn't know yet that the girl with pale hair had already crossed his path, only that whatever came next, he wouldn't be facing it alone, "Head home, young Seijuro. You've earned the break," Frank said, smiling like this was all routine.
Seijuro didn't return it. Kenji formed a portal in front of him. The air folded in on itself, light bending into a familiar oval. Seijuro stepped through without a word, jaw tight, anger still coiled low in his chest, at Frank, at Lisa, at how easily they had let him walk into something that could have killed him. The world shifted. He appeared in front of a small, weathered house, its wooden door just as he remembered it. For a moment, he didn't move,
It's been too long…
Seijuro exhaled slowly, then knocked. Footsteps hurried from inside, faster than he expected. The door swung open abruptly, and his mother froze in the doorway. She looked thinner. Older. Her hair was tied back the way it always had been, though more strands of gray framed her face now. For a heartbeat, she just stared at him, eyes wide, as if she didn't trust what she was seeing. Then her breath caught, "Seijuro…?"
He didn't answer fast enough. She crossed the distance in an instant and pulled him into a tight embrace, arms wrapping around him like she was afraid he might vanish if she let go, "You're back," she said, voice breaking. "You're really back."
Her hands trembled as she held him. Seijuro stood stiffly at first, the anger still there, still burning. but it faltered under the weight of her grip. Slowly, almost unwillingly, he returned the hug, "I didn't know where you were," she continued, words spilling out. "They wouldn't tell me anything. I thought…" She stopped herself, shaking her head against his shoulder. "I thought I'd lost you too."
Her fingers pulled back just enough for her to look at him. Her eyes scanned his face, her hands moving to his arms, his shoulders, checking him like he was still a child, she spoke shakily, "Why didn't you come sooner? What did they do to you?"
She noticed the mark on his face, the blood across shirt, and gasped, "What happened to your face?!"
"I'm fine," Seijuro said quietly. "I promise. It was just… a test."
Her expression darkened immediately, "A test?" she repeated. "That's what they call this?" Her voice sharpened, fear turning into anger of its own. "Do they hurt you and call it training?"
She turned away suddenly. "Sit down. I'll get some ice. Don't argue."
Seijuro watched her move through the house, so familiar, and felt something inside him finally give way. The anger he'd been holding for Frank and Lisa didn't disappear, but it loosened, no longer pressing against his ribs. His chest felt tight instead, heavy in a different way. He lowered himself onto the chair by the door and rested his head briefly in his hands. When she returned, she knelt in front of him without hesitation, gently pressing the ice to his cheek. Her touch was careful, reverent, like she was afraid of hurting him even more, "You've grown," she murmured, eyes glistening. "But you're still my son."
Seijuro swallowed hard. For the first time since the exam ended, he let himself lean into her touch. But then, a knock at the door came sharp and sudden. Seijuro stiffened. His mother looked up, startled. "This late…?"
Before either of them could move, the air near the doorway folded in on itself. Light bent sharply, and Kenji stepped out of a narrow portal with his usual irritating calm.
Right behind him, "Seijuro."
Ruma's voice was tight. She strode through the portal without waiting for permission, dark coat already half-open, medical satchel slung over her shoulder. Her expression was pure irritation, eyes sharp as they locked onto him, "You didn't get checked," she said flatly,
"I'm fine," Seijuro said automatically,
"You are never fine," Ruma snapped, already kneeling in front of him. She grabbed his wrist, fingers firm, checking his pulse, then tilted his chin up to inspect the bruise on his face. "You think adrenaline counts as treatment?"
Seijuro's mother stared at the scene in front of her, eyes widening slightly, "Oh," she said slowly, then smiled, tired, relieved. "I see."
Ruma paused. "See what?"
His mother glanced between them. Seijuro senses danger, "Mom…"
"You didn't tell me you were engaged," his mother said sharply, disbelief turning into anger. "I find out this way? In the middle of the night? Injured?"
"I'm not…" Seijuro started.
She turned fully on him now. "You vanish for months, come back bleeding, and forget to mention you have a fiancée who has to chase you down through portals?"
Ruma went completely still. Her ears turned red, "I am not his fiancée," she said stiffly.
She exhaled sharply, then adjusted her grip on Seijuro's arm. "I'm his nurse."
His mother blinked once, then laughed softly. "Ah. Well. That explains the yelling."
Ruma muttered something under her breath and continued her examination, irritation still clear but movements careful.
Kenji stepped back toward the portal. "I'll leave you to it," he said lightly, already fading.
The portal closed. Seijuro leaned back in his chair, surrounded by concern on all sides, and for the first time that night. He didn't resist it.