The Glaxina school garden stretched wide before them—an expanse of green grass trimmed with symmetrical precision, neat like a freshly unfolded strategy board. Gray stone paths cut through the garden in firm straight lines, reminiscent of troop movement diagrams. The morning air was still cold, carrying the scent of wet leaves mixed with a faint metallic note—the smell of weapon oil from early-morning maintenance.
From various corners of the garden came small, lively sounds: click—click of micro screwdrivers tightening barrel bolts, the soft hiss of cloth polishing metal surfaces, and the unapologetic slurp of instant noodles being eaten. There was no panic. No chaos. Everything moved like routine.
Kaito stepped forward first.
His black leather shoes reflected the morning light each time they touched the stone path. His long navy-blue coat swayed gently in the wind, the ID card around his neck swinging lightly.
Kaito's gaze swept across the garden.
Not in admiration.
Not in awe.
It was the gaze of someone accustomed to reading terrain—measuring firing distances, blind spots, ambush probabilities. Old reflexes that never truly faded.
❝Loose formation… but disciplined,❞ he noted flatly.
Behind him, Miraka walked with small, hesitant steps. Her oversized purple school bag bounced against her back—thup… thup—every two steps. Her silver-white hair moved softly, shimmering in the light. Her dim yellow eyes wandered, recording everything with innocent curiosity.
She saw Glaxina students in their distinctive uniforms: crisp white shirts, deep-purple jackets. Some sat on garden benches, weapons disassembled atop cloth mats—barrels laid parallel, screws arranged like treasured objects. Some glanced briefly at Kaito—quick looks, then back to work. Others walked by carrying stacks of thick books, faces serious, as if bearing burdens too heavy for their age.
Miraka swallowed softly.
❝Their uniforms… are so beautiful,❞ she thought. ❝Like… important people.❞
Levi walked to Kaito's left. His shoulders were tense, posture overly straight. His fingers occasionally brushed the small tactical belt at his waist, making sure the HS-9 pistol magazine was still secure. The silver glasses on his face caught the light, hiding eyes dulled by fatigue and lack of sleep.
❝It's been a long time since I came to Glaxina,❞ Levi thought. ❝Ever since Mag and Max… everything changed. Cleaner. Safer.❞
Half a step behind, Harisa walked like a shadow.
Her elite jacket hung open, her blue-purple tie loose and untied. Her dark brown hair was messy, as if she had just woken from an overly long dream. Her gaze was empty, passing through the garden as if it were merely a moving backdrop. But when the wind carried the scent of jasmine from a corner of the garden—a gentle smell unfamiliar to a world of weapons—her brow twitched slightly.
A small reaction. Almost unnoticeable.
They entered a brightly painted building.
Pale yellow walls with purple accents welcomed them. Once the door closed, the garden sounds faded—replaced by children's laughter, small footsteps, and light chatter that felt almost wrong in the world of Akarius.
In one corner of the room, Nana was spinning around.
The synthetic cat tail attached behind her swayed cutely, bouncing with each turn. Her cheeks were flushed with laughter, her bright brown eyes wide with joy.
"Look! My tail can spin!" she exclaimed, tugging proudly at the end of it.
The small student in front of her giggled, clapping her hands. Their laughter was light—unburdened, untouched by war.
On the other side of the room, Toman stood upright.
His posture was stiff, trying to appear mature. A lightweight MP5 hung across his chest, both hands gripping the sling like a small soldier on duty. He was talking with another child his age, his expression serious, nodding occasionally.
Kaito stopped.
He raised his hand slightly—not an exaggerated greeting, just an efficient gesture that immediately drew attention.
"Toman."
Toman turned quickly. His brown eyes widened for a split second upon seeing the coat and the gleaming ID card on Kaito's chest. He straightened instinctively.
"Flying Teacher," he greeted firmly, his voice trying to sound steady. "Is there anything I can help you with?"
Kaito stepped half a pace closer. His leather shoes stopped right in front of Toman. He bent down slightly, his voice flat and low.
"I need to ask. Where is fifth grade?"
Toman raised his right hand, pointing down the long corridor at the end of the building. "At the far end, Teacher. After the second turn."
"Thank you, General."
That single word made Toman's chest swell. He returned Kaito's nod, struggling to suppress a proud smile. Nana turned her head, her big eyes sparkling, and waved cheerfully.
"Flying Teacher!"
Kaito replied with an almost imperceptible nod—the corner of his lips moved slightly, barely a smile.
They walked down the corridor.
The sound of Kaito's footsteps echoed rhythmically against the floor. Levi followed at a safe distance, his eyes scanning quickly. Harisa stared at the walls—activity posters, training schedules, class photos—without really reading any of them.
Miraka glanced back.
Her small gaze met Toman, who was still standing there, trying to look grown-up. Miraka blinked slowly.
❝He's… the same age as me,❞ she thought. A small warmth slipped into her chest—an unfamiliar feeling, brief, fading as she turned forward again.
They stopped in front of the fifth-grade classroom.
A dark purple nameplate. Clean white letters. From inside came the sound of chairs scraping and children whispering.
Kaito crouched down.
His movement was slow, deliberate. He met Miraka's gaze at eye level—his silver-gray eyes softened slightly this time, like ice cracking just a little.
"Study hard," he said quietly. "So one day… you can become a teacher."
Miraka nodded quickly. "Yes, Teacher!"
Suddenly, she hugged Kaito.
A small hug. Hesitant. But warm.
Kaito froze.
His body stiffened for one second—like an old reflex reacting too late. His hands hung in the air before finally lowering, stopping at Miraka's back without truly returning the embrace.
❝It's been so long…❞ his thoughts caught. ❝It's been so long since I was hugged.❞
The classroom door opened.
Light welcomed Miraka inside. She released the hug, stepped in, then paused at the doorway. She turned—her yellow eyes sparkling.
Then the door slowly closed.
Kaito stood still.
He stared at the door one second longer than necessary.
❝What is this feeling…❞ he thought. ❝Why does it feel like… someone just died?❞
Levi let out a small sigh. His shoulders relaxed slightly. "Don't be so dramatic, Teacher," he said quietly. "She's just studying for a few hours."
Harisa turned her face toward the window. Morning light touched her eyes—and for a moment, the world felt less heavy.
"We should head to Mag's place," Levi added.
Kaito nodded. He turned and walked toward the exit. Levi and Harisa followed behind.
In the corridor, they passed Toman, heading toward the fifth-grade classroom.
Toman paused, giving a small salute. Kaito returned it with a brief nod.
Their paths diverged.
The corridor fell silent once more.