he sky was bright, students were laughing, and banners fluttered over the courtyard announcing the upcoming Unality Festiv—an event designed to prove that, despite near-catastrophic duels, shadow beasts, and mild emotional trauma, the academy was still "harmonious and thriving."
Kenshin stared at one of the banners. It had a smiling mascot shaped like a mana crystal wearing sunglasses.
"I hate this place sometimes," he said.
Ayame nudged him with her elbow. "Oh, come on. It's the first day off we've had in weeks."
"Off?" he repeated. "You mean 'mandatory participation disguised as fun.'"
"Stop being dramatic," she said. "You might even enjoy it."
"I'll enjoy it when I'm unconscious."
Hiro ran past them wearing a giant paper hat. "Did someone say festival? Because I signed us up for the booth competition!"
Ayame's eyes widened. "You what?"
Hiro turned proudly. "Team 4B will be running a food stand. Theme: 'Battle Cuisine'—where the food fights back!"
Kenshin blinked. "Please tell me that's a metaphor."
"Metaphors are for cowards," Hiro said.
***
The courtyard transformed overnight. Booths lined the paths, each radiating wild creativity and mild danger. One stand shot confetti fireballs; another sold drinks that changed color depending on your mana type.
Their booth, on the other hand, looked like a construction site built by sleep-deprived alchemists.
Katsumi stood at the table, arms crossed. "This is chaos."
"It's organized chaos," Hiro corrected, holding up a frying pan that was visibly glowing. "See? Perfect for the demonstration."
Ayame leaned close to Kenshin. "You think this thing's safe?"
"Define safe," Kenshin said.
Just then, the pan hissed, spat sparks, and launched a charred pancake into the air like a mortar shell. It flew straight into the Headmaster's balcony.
A long pause followed.
Ryouji's distant voice echoed, calm but ominous: "Team 4B… I'm watching you."
Kenshin sighed. "We're dead."
***
Somehow, they survived the morning. Their booth was inexplicably popular—students lined up to challenge Hiro's combat omelets that occasionally punched back.
Ayame laughed as she handed out plates. "I can't believe this is actually working."
"That's the power of marketing," Hiro said. "People will eat anything if it tries to murder them first."
Kenshin rolled his eyes but smiled despite himself. "You're insane."
"You're welcome."
Seiran arrived quietly, as usual, holding a skewer of glowing fruit. He didn't even seem to notice the chaos.
Ayame waved. "Seiran! Want to help out?"
He blinked. "No."
"Come on, live a little!"
He glanced at the sizzling pan, then at Hiro, who was now wearing a chef's hat shaped like a dragon. "Pass."
But he didn't leave. He stayed near the booth, eyes scanning the crowd like he was watching for something.
Kenshin noticed. "You expecting trouble?"
"Always."
***
From his office balcony, Ryouji observed the festival through a scrying mirror. His reflection flickered with faint distortion.
"The festival's energy output is stabilizing the upper wards," he murmured, flipping through mana readings. "But the lower circuits… they're still draining."
Professor Makabe appeared beside him. "You mean the sealed network?"
Ryouji nodded. "The corruption's active again. I've traced it to the north courtyard—the one where the festival main stage is built."
Makabe frowned. "Should we evacuate?"
Ryouji shook his head. "No. The distortion feeds on chaos. The more panic, the faster it spreads. We contain quietly—or not at all."
He looked out again. His gaze lingered on Kenshin's group.
"Let them play their roles," he said quietly. "If the distortion reacts to them… we'll have our proof."
*** (Back at the Festival)
A loud bang erupted near the stage. Students screamed, though half of them thought it was part of the fireworks show.
Kenshin turned toward the sound, instincts sharp. "That wasn't planned."
Ayame's hand went to her charm. "You feel it too?"
A pulse ran through the ground—brief, cold, like the world exhaled wrong.
Then came the laughter. Not loud, but low, threading through the noise.
Kenshin's eyes narrowed. "That mana signature…"
Seiran's head snapped toward the stage. "It's him."
"Who?" Kenshin asked.
"Kuro."
*** (The Stage)
When they reached the stage, the world seemed slightly off-balance. The decorations looked distorted, their colors too sharp, like paint bleeding off a canvas.
At the center stood a figure cloaked in faint dark light—not fully solid, not fully spirit.
Kenshin's hand went to his sword. "Kuro."
The spirit smirked faintly. "You've grown, Hoshimiya."
Ayame froze. "He's… alive?"
Seiran stepped forward, fury breaking through his calm for the first time. "You shouldn't be here."
"Neither should you," Kuro said. "But you're still clinging to their lies."
Kenshin frowned. "What lies?"
Kuro looked at him, eyes glowing faint silver. "This academy isn't a sanctuary—it's a seal. Everything they teach you, every ritual, every test… it's to keep what's buried from waking. And guess what? The seal's breaking."
Seiran clenched his fists. "You're lying."
Kuro tilted his head. "Am I? Or did you finally realize the dreams you keep having aren't yours?"
The ground cracked, mana surging upward like veins of light.
Ayame grabbed Kenshin's arm. "We have to stop this!"
"Working on it!" Kenshin said, pulling his sword free.
Yoshino's presence burst awake inside him—a flare of calm fury. He shouldn't be here. This fragment isn't stable.
Kuro smiled. "Still listening to her? How sweet. Tell me, spirit—how long will you let them use him?"
Yoshino's voice cut cold. Enough.
Her power shimmered around Kenshin, creating a faint barrier that pushed the distortion back. The stage flickered, then settled.
But Kuro only laughed softly. "You can't hold it forever."
He dissolved into particles of light, fading before they could reach him.
Seiran stood motionless, eyes shadowed. "He's not lying," he said finally. "The seal is breaking. I can feel it."
Ayame looked at him, shaken. "Then what do we do?"
Kenshin sheathed his sword slowly. "We pretend everything's fine. For now."
Hiro blinked. "That's… our plan?"
Kenshin sighed. "Until we figure out what's going on, yeah."
Ayame frowned. "You're serious."
"Completely."
Hiro groaned. "Why do I always end up in those plans?"
"Because you're expendable," Katsumi said dryly.
*** (Later That Night)
The festival ended with fireworks that painted the sky in shimmering blue and gold. Students cheered, music filled the air, and for once, laughter felt real.
But under the ground, deep beneath the academy's heart, something stirred—responding to the energy above.
Faint whispers (not echoes) drifted through the dark halls, weaving into the runes that once sealed the distortion.
And in the silence between fireworks, a single phrase resonated like breath in the dark:
"The seal weakens."
*** (Dorm Rooftop)
Kenshin and Ayame sat side by side, watching the last sparks fade.
She leaned her chin on her knees. "Do you think it's ever going to be normal again?"
He looked at her. "Probably not."
"That's the most depressing answer you could've given."
He smirked. "You asked for honesty."
She smiled faintly. "Then give me hope instead."
He thought about it for a moment. "Hope is when you keep showing up, even when you know you'll lose."
"That's… actually pretty good," she said softly. "Did Yoshino tell you that?"
"Maybe," Kenshin said, smiling. "She's the smart one."
Yoshino's faint voice drifted in his mind, mildly offended. You just realized that?
Ayame laughed when he flinched. "She's talking to you, isn't she?"
"Yeah," Kenshin admitted. "She says I'm an idiot."
Ayame smiled wider. "Smart spirit."
He glanced at her, warmth flickering beneath the chaos. For once, the night didn't feel heavy.
But somewhere far below, a pulse of dark energy rippled through the academy's wards, faint but growing.
The calm before the storm—painted beautifully, hiding the cracks beneath.