The morning air was sharp, cool against Kazuo's skin as he stepped onto the training grounds. His arm flexed easily now, no pain left — the Recovery Mage's work had erased every fracture and burn. His body was whole again.
Setsuna was already there, leaning against the fence with arms folded, a pouch of rice crackers half-open at his side. That familiar grin tugged at his lips, easy as ever — but Kazuo noticed it didn't quite reach his eyes.
Kazuo walked closer, stretching his shoulders once. "…It's time for training."
Setsuna smirked around a rice cracker, brushing crumbs from his fingers. "Sure. We'll get to it." He pushed off the fence, eyes still carrying that playful glint. "But first, a little chat."
Kazuo frowned. "…Chat?"
The grin stayed, but Setsuna's tone shifted, steady as stone. "This will be your hardest battle yet."
Kazuo's nodded. "…I know."
Setsuna's grin thinned. "And if you do win — remember this. Your wish has to stay in line."
Kazuo blinked. "…In line?"
The captain's grin lingered, but his tone was almost hollow. "You know this tournament is a setup. But the wish? That's the hardest test of all. You do know what that means… don't you?"
Kazuo's chest tightened. He didn't answer, but he understood.
Setsuna went on, his grin fading by a shade. "Don't you dare wish for change. Not for revolution. Not for anything that threatens the Crown or the system. That path is closed to you."
Kazuo swallowed hard. He knew exactly what Setsuna meant. No uprising. No tearing down the walls. No spark that could set the nobles aflame.
But… he hadn't cared about that anyway. This wasn't his fight.
Still… what would he even wish for? His mind gave nothing but silence — until one face flickered through. Gramps.
Setsuna studied him a moment longer, then gave the faintest nod. "…Good. Because if you did—" his eyes sharpened, cutting cold as steel, "—I'd have to kill you myself."
A chill ran through Kazuo at the blunt weight of it.
He let out a slow breath, forcing the thought aside. "…Understood, Captain."
For a moment, Setsuna held his stare — then the edge in his eyes eased, his smile sliding back into place. He clapped his hands together like nothing had happened.
"Alright then, Kazu. First things first—your training for today."
It was like he'd switched masks in an instant — cold steel one moment, easy grin the next. The whiplash left Kazuo staring for a beat before he caught himself. He lifted a hand, half-raising it like he wasn't sure how to start.
"Oh—there's something I wanted to ask you."
"Go on."
"Since the battle royal… it's been stuck in my head. The way Aoi moved. He dodged midair like it was nothing. Can you train me to move like that?"
Kazuo's question hung in the air. Setsuna scratched at his temple. "Aoi's spent years drilling his body for that. Flexibility, balance, muscle memory. I can't hammer that into you in few days."
Kazuo frowned. "…So it's hopeless?"
"Didn't say that." He pushed off the fence, brushing dust from his sleeve. "I can't make you into him. But I can give you an idea."
"An idea?"
"Not the way you've been blasting and blocking — think of it as a utility move. Use it for movement. For footing. For momentum."
His tone stayed steady, almost flat. "But you can't get your hands on Whispers of Water. Someone borrowed it.
"Borrowed?"
"Yeah. The library keeps records. You won't be getting your hands on it for a while."
Kazuo fell quiet, but a suspicion tugged at him. His mind flicked back to Elyria, the way she'd pressed him before. A hunch twisted sharp in his gut.
Setsuna didn't notice. His tone shifted, lighter. "So this time, you'll have to figure it out yourself. It's uncommon to invent new spells, but not impossible. And for the training—you'll need her." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.
He blinked. "…Her? Who—?"
Setsuna glanced back, frowning. "Damn it. I thought she was here already."
Kazuo turned his head slightly. "…Behind the fence?"
"No, idiot," Setsuna sighed. "I'm talking about Sora."
He stiffened. "…Sora? She's training with me this time?"
"That's right. She'll tell you everything. I've got to go."
"Wait." Kazuo stepped forward. "What about Aoi's lightning? How am I supposed to prepare for that?"
Setsuna looked back once. "I'll come up with a strategy. You focus on your training. I have an important meeting to attend."
Without waiting for another word, he strode off.
After a while, Sora finally strolled onto the grounds, hands tucked behind her head, tail swaying lazily behind her.
Kazuo glanced up. "…Took you long enough. Where's Tetsu?"
"He's busy," Sora said simply. "Said he's working on some stuff. Didn't give details."
A thought tugging at him. Ever since the royal library, he's been so wrapped up in something… barely looks up from that notebook of his.
Sora stretched her arms overhead, rolling her shoulders loose. "Anyway, Captain gave me your orders. Said I'm supposed to train you in agility and flexibility."
Her grin sharpened. "And lucky you—I'm your stand-in. Since we met, you've never actually seen me in action, right?"
"…No," Kazuo admitted.
"Good. Today's your first taste." Sora crouched slightly, tail swishing. "We're playing tag. Your role? Catch me."
Kazuo lifted a hand in half a shrug. "…Tag? How is that supposed to help?"
Her ears flicked, eyes gleaming. "Because fighting Aoi is like chasing the wind. You'll never pin it down, but you'll learn how to move with it. That's what this is about — flow, not force. And I'm not as fast as him…" she tilted her head with a grin, "…but close."
He blinked. Close? "…You fought him?"
Sora's eyes widened, and she barked a laugh. "Geez, god no. I'm not suicidal."
"…Then how do you know?" Kazuo asked confused.
She lifted both hands, palms open as if presenting something obvious. "Because there's a ranking, genius.
Kazuo's eyes widened. "…Huh? There's a ranking?"
"Yepp," Sora said, nodding like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Every squad and captain can sign up to be measured. Not everyone does, but the ones who do get tracked officially."
He shook his head. "…But how? How do you even measure something like that?"
"Dr. Veyra," Sora answered, her fingers curling into mock claws as she pulled a face. "Creepy bastard. He's got some kind of magic-tech that tracks everything — speed, strength, reflexes, stamina. Don't ask me how, but it works. And guess what? Aoi's ranked number one. Always."
His eyes widened. "…Wait. When you said you were close… does that mean—"
She nodded, tail flicking with pride. "Yep. I'm number two. So don't think of this as a game. You're training against the closest thing you'll get to him without dying."
Kazuo froze for a heartbeat Second? Sora—the lightheaded Sora? He stared at her a moment longer, realization creeping in. Beneath her easy grins and catlike quirks, there was something sharper. He couldn't sense aura well, but in that moment… hers felt like a blade pressed just out of sight.
Respect stirred, quiet but undeniable.
Kazuo let out a slow breath. "…Alright. I get it."
"Good." Sora clapped her hands together, tail flicking behind her. "So first, tag. Then we're working on your flexibility — because you're stiff as a board. After that…" her grin widened into something mischievous, "…we go visit Dr. Veyra to see where you stand. I know you're eager to know — and I am too. And maybe…" she leaned forward just slightly, "…hot springs to relax."
He rubbed the back of his neck, a faint heat rising in his face. Hot springs, huh? If it's the Upper Crescent, they're probably mixed…
Sora stretched her arms overhead, tail flicking once. "Alright then—get into position. You have to catch me."
Kazuo let out a slow breath, settling his stance across from her. He tugged off his jacket in one motion and tossed it aside. It'll only weigh me down.
"Here we go…"