Grok vs Seaart
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"Brother? And Mahiro-kun, what are you two talking about?"
Descending from the sky with the grace of a falling snowflake, Miyuki landed softly before them. The hem of her uniform-like dress fluttered faintly in the twilight air, her presence glowing with a beauty that seemed almost unreal. The twilight valley around them shimmered, mysterious enough to stir a primal sense of wonder in anyone who gazed upon it.
Yotsuba Mahiro cast her a sideways glance, lips curving into a faint smile. "Nothing much… just talking about CADs."
"Yes," Tatsuya added, his tone as calm as ever. "Mahiro-kun's CAD just arrived today. He'll still need some time to get used to it."
"Is that so?" Miyuki tilted her head, curiosity shining in her eyes. She leaned in slightly, her gaze drawn to the open box in Mahiro's hands. The sight of the contents made her gasp softly. "Ehh? Is this… the CAD Aunt specifically had the company make for Mahiro-kun?"
Her words carried a tone of admiration, but the moment her eyes fell upon the small silver ring nestled inside, her breath caught. It wasn't just an ordinary CAD—within that delicate design pulsed a mysterious relic. A Holy Relic.
No one truly knew what kind of power slumbered within such a ring.
Still, compared to when she saw Tatsuya equipped with his own device, there was a flicker of something else in Miyuki's gaze this time—a faint shadow of sorrow.
She knew her Aunt's nature all too well. If she had gone so far as to arrange a relic-bound CAD for Mahiro, then this was not just generosity. No… it was another experiment. Another test. Even after Mahiro-kun had left the Fourth Research Lab, even after distancing himself from the suffocating grip of the Yotsuba Main Family… Aunt's shadow still reached for him.
"Mahiro-kun…" Miyuki's lips parted slightly, worry flickering in her expression.
Meeting her gaze, Mahiro offered a faint grin and, without hesitation, slipped the silver ring onto his finger. The moment it clasped around him, a faint light shimmered across its surface.
"M-Mahiro-kun, you…!"
"It's nothing." He brushed off her concern with a slight shrug, then abruptly turned the conversation with a teasing smile. "More importantly, Miyuki, this outfit really suits you. You look beautiful."
He raised a thumb in casual approval.
Her cheeks immediately flushed bright pink. "E-eh?! R-really?"
The outfit was, after all, striking. A short layered skirt of flowing, translucent chiffon shimmered with rainbow hues. Thin leggings hugged her slender legs, ending at glossy leather ankle boots. A short, form-fitting jacket framed her curves, its glossy texture hugging her body like it was shaped for her alone. Beneath it, a puffed-shoulder top clung to her arms, matching the leggings.
Her long hair, silky and radiant, was kept neatly by a wide headband adorned with soft feathers, giving the impression of ethereal earmuffs. It was not just fashion—it was function. This uniform was designed for competition, balancing aerodynamics and protection with elegance.
The Star-Picking Mirage—better known as the "Elf Dance"—was one of the Nine Schools Competition's highlight events. Miyuki, clad in the outfit, looked no less than a celestial maiden descended from the heavens. The image of her plucking starlight under the dark sky earlier still lingered in Mahiro's mind.
"Y-yaa… I-it's embarrassing when you say it like that…" Miyuki stumbled back a step, pressing her flushed cheeks with her hand. Being praised by Mahiro-kun directly… it was too much!
"Mm~ it really is good, indeed~"
A sly, overly dramatic voice cut into the moment from behind her.
Miyuki's eyes widened. She spun around, only to see Yagumo Kugonoe, the eccentric monk who had been helping her train earlier, standing far too close for comfort. His face was glowing with an unrestrained, exaggerated expression.
"Hmm, very good!" Yagumo exclaimed, his voice dripping with theatricality. "Actually, I wanted to say this from the moment you first wore it. Compared to your school uniform, this brings out a completely different charm. It lacks the childish immaturity, and instead reveals a dazzling aura, pure yet irresistible!"
His hands waved about wildly as he continued, his tone growing more and more absurd. "Yes… you're like a freshly bloomed flower! No, a tender bud sprouting green! No, no, that's not enough… this… this is moe! Hmmm! Pure moe itself!"
As his emotions escalated, the monk crept closer and closer, forcing Miyuki to retreat in panic.
Suddenly, Yagumo bent low, dropping into a bizarre stance with his left arm raised dramatically above his head.
Thud!
That arm blocked a swift hand chop.
But before he could smirk, bam!—a heavy punch slammed straight into his chest. Yagumo was launched backwards, smashing into the wall with a deafening crash, dust exploding around him like a broken mural.
The hand chop had been Tatsuya's. The punch had been Mahiro's.
"Guhh—!" Yagumo groaned, embedded into the wall like some ridiculous hanging scroll.
Coughing through the cloud of dust, he still had the nerve to grin. "Khh… that punch… was much stronger than Tatsuya-kun's. And to think you've already mastered Concealed Presence to this level… fufufu… impressive, Mahiro-kun!"
But Mahiro's expression only darkened further, his eyes narrowing with irritation rather than satisfaction.
"You damned perverted bald monk! What filthy nonsense were you whispering to Miyuki-chan just now? You wanna test if I'll decompose you on the spot, huh?!"
"Oh my, oh my. Calling me a bald monk, Mahiro-kun, that's not very polite, naa."
Yagumo-sensei chuckled carelessly, making no effort to deny the "pervert" accusation. Rising from the debris without so much as a scratch, he dusted off his robe and loose sandals with the ease of someone brushing away dirt from a stroll.
"No matter how you put it, you've already learned techniques from me. That makes me one of your teachers. Shouldn't you show a little respect to your sensei?"
"Teacher? You? Ha!"
The world might revere Yagumo Kugonoe as a master, a figure of legend among magicians. But to Mahiro, he was nothing more than a lecherous monk who couldn't keep his thoughts clean.
Just a perverted bald monk!
"T-That… Mahiro-kun, please, don't quarrel with sensei. I'm really fine."
Miyuki's voice wavered as she tried to calm him down, her tone gentle but helpless.
"It's alright, Miyuki-chan." Yagumo-sensei raised a hand as if dismissing her worries. "This level doesn't even count as an argument yet."
Even after taking Mahiro's crushing punch, he behaved as though nothing had happened, strolling forward with his usual relaxed gait. His half-lidded eyes glimmered with something sharper as he closed the distance.
"But still… the Yotsuba Family's head is truly terrifying. To let someone like you walk free—does she intend to flip the entire magic world on its head?"
As he spoke, Yagumo's eyes finally opened fully. The usually playful gaze now gleamed with razor-sharp danger.
In all his years of roaming the world, Yagumo had met many terrifying individuals. But Yotsuba Mahiro… this boy was in a class beyond them all.
Even more unsettling than Shiba Tatsuya-kun's famed Decomposition and Reconstruction.
Tatsuya could, at least, be restrained—Miyuki's River of Lamentation held the power to kill him. But Mahiro? Mahiro was different. He was a beast that could not be bound.
Those eyes—once they marked you—there was no escape, no erasure.
At first, Yagumo had suspected Yotsuba Maya of unleashing Mahiro-kun, a weapon forged in the Yotsuba's Fourth Research Lab, for the sole purpose of eliminating Tatsuya, the unstable anomaly threatening the clan's power.
But seeing them now—side by side, almost… peacefully—shook that assumption.
"Who knows?" Mahiro-kun shrugged, his expression as indifferent as if he were discussing the weather. "If I really wanted to turn the magic world upside down, the first thing I'd do is tear down your shabby little temple."
"Oh dear, oh dear, that won't do at all."
Yagumo laughed heartily, slapping his gleaming bald head. "This humble monk is still counting on that temple to keep the wind and rain off me, ahaha!"
"Mahiro-kun…"
Miyuki's brows knitted in worry. She clenched her fists so tightly her palms dampened with sweat.
Mahiro-kun would sometimes bicker with others in everyday life, yes. But this was different. Only in front of Yagumo-sensei did he wear such a dangerous look.
She understood why.
Aside from herself, these two were like natural enemies—oil and water that could never blend.
And yet… Teacher Yagumo had helped her and Tatsuya on countless occasions. He had been there when they needed him most.
She could only hope—just maybe—that Mahiro-kun and Yagumo-sensei might one day find a way not to clash so violently.
But looking at their faces now, Miyuki wasn't sure if such a hope could ever come true.