It's confession time, once again. Before this day, I thought the reputation of hot-spring baths was overblown and inflated by media. Kind of like how anime and manga made an entire generation believe that katanas were the bestest swords that ever sworded in the history of swording, I figured that hot springs would end up similarly over-exaggerated, and soaking in one would be no different from sitting in a bathtub at home (not that I would know about that either, as I only had a shower).

Yet, despite coming in with expectations so low they were right next to dino fossils, I was completely floored by the experience. Lying in the outdoor pool in the late winter evening, with the Milky Way stretched over the sky above me and the hot water making me relaxed to the point I felt like I could melt at any second...

"I could definitely get used to this."

But then again, if I did, it would've probably stopped feeling special, so maybe it was best to keep things in moderation.

I wasn't the only one who gained a newfound appreciation for the hot spring either, as Josh let out a satisfied sigh nearby, staring at the starry sky with a peaceful expression. We were in the smaller of the two outdoor baths, and they had the same kind of Japanese onsen aesthetics as the one in our VIP room; lots of rustic, uncut stones, wooden benches under the water to sit on, and even one of those bamboo things with water trickling into them that periodically made a sharp sound.

 While I said it was "smaller", it was only in comparison with the other communal pool, which was currently used by the girls. They were both mixed baths, but since it was only us on the premises, we ended up dividing them up anyway. Also, for the record, while I doubted anyone would've minded if we were skinny-dipping, everyone was still wearing swimsuits into the pools, including the two of us.

Speaking of which, after a while, Josh stopped staring at the sky and turned to me.

"Miss Yamako was right. This is great."

"Yamako?" I repeated after him by reflex, and it took me an embarrassingly long time to figure out what he was talking about. "Oh, you mean Rinne?"

"Of course I mean her."

"Sorry, my bad. I'm just so used to calling her Mountain Girl that I keep forgetting about her cover surname."

"Well, I can't," my friend uttered, followed by a displeased huff. "You told everyone you're related, so nobody at school cares how you address her, but if I accidentally called her by her first name, those four bastards wouldn't leave me alone for days."

"Oh, I think I know who you're talking about. If the creepers are bothering you, just report them to Armband Guy. After that whole 'The Gathering' stunt, they should still be on probation."

"I don't know, man. That feels like being a tattler."

"What other option do you have?"

Josh remained silent, seriously considering my entirely rhetorical question for way longer than necessary.

"Weeell… I have superpowers, so I could just beat them up during a break or something, right?"

Over the next five seconds, I sent one of the flattest, most two-dimensional deadpan stares at my friend I've ever managed to pull off, but when he didn't react, I was forced to follow it up with a lung-rattling sigh and a facepalm.

"Josh. We live in a civilized society, where governing organizations have a monopoly on violence. They are both endowed with the authority to inflict violence on the people breaking the rules and laws of society, and also to stop people from enacting vigilante justice and inflicting violence on others."

"… So you're saying…?"

"Don't beat them up during school hours, but lure them into a dark alley or something where no one can see you, for god's sake."

"Ah, gotcha!"

He flashed me a toothy grin, and I waited until he stopped before adding, "Seriously though, talk to Pascal first."

"Fine, fine." He dismissed my nagging with a wave of his hand and fell silent. It lasted for nearly a solid minute, during which I patiently waited for him to speak his mind. I knew the expression on his face all too well; he always looked like that whenever he had something on his mind that he really, really wanted to talk about, but didn't know how to broach the subject. I was ready to break the ice if push came to shove, but after another silent minute, he clumsily cleared his throat and decided to do it himself. "So… Speaking of superpowers and organizations with a monopoly on violence…"

He trailed off, so I prompted him with a curious, "Yes?"

"So… I'm actually pretty good at fighting, aren't I?"

"Are you?"

He apparently didn't expect me to say that, and after the first surprise, he indignantly narrowed his eyes.

"Come on, man! I won a whole-ass tournament less than two weeks ago!"

"Yes, but you didn't even make it into the finals of our own tournament," I pointed out in turn, and my friend let out an angry huff and raised his hands, kicking up some water in the process.

"Hey! I thought we were over this! I just had bad matchups, all right?" Fuming, he crossed his arms. "How did you even beat your sister during that whole Arbitration thing? She's like a freaking red hedgehog on amphetamines!"

"You mean Sanic?"

"Sanic? Isn't it Sonic?" Josh asked back, his previous indignation evaporating faster than the steam rising from the pool around us.

"No-no. That's the internet parody. Sanic is the red hedgehog mascot that goes really fast, Sonic is the poorly illustrated pointy red blob that shows up in funny and occasionally disturbing meme videos."

"Huh. You'd think it would be the other way around," he mused, and I shook my head.

"Not really. There's no way a company would try to trademark the name 'Sonic'. It's too generic. It would be like calling a lion character Simba."

"Or Leo," my friend pointed out with a smirk.

"Yeah, yeah. That too. By the way, what were we talking about? Something about you being good at fighting or something."

"Right, that." He paused for a second, probably to collect his thoughts, then tentatively asked, "So… do you remember that orientation day we had at the beginning of last November?"

"Yeah? It's when Angie literally wrote 'la presidenta of a banana republic' under 'Where do you see yourself in ten years?'."

Stifling a chuckle, Josh told me, "That was hilarious. Also, kinda your fault."

"I wash my hands of any responsibility. So?"

"So, back then, I was still reeling from all this supernatural crap flying left and right and didn't have any idea what I whould do in the future. At least, until recently."

"Oh? Do go on, don't keep me in suspense!"

Josh rolled his eyes at my comment, then took a deep breath.

"So, I don't exactly have great prospects. With my grades, I would be lucky to get into a university, and I never really had much of a passion for anything."

"What about food?"

"I'm a terrible cook, and people don't really pay you for eating. More importantly, I never thought I had any kind of talent, but it turns out I have a bit of a knack for combat, right?" He stared intently at me and refused to continue until I nodded along. "I talked with Roland about this too, and he also agreed. Normally I wouldn't know where to begin making a living with that, but as it just happens, my best pal just founded a brand new organization with a monopoly on ass-kicking, and it's all about beating up bad guys."

"Wait… Are you telling me you want to join the Ordo Draconis?"

Josh nodded with the utmost seriousness.

"Yep. I mean, Roland said I would certainly make the cut, and they are already looking into recruiting Draconians into the organization to shore up the numbers, so I would fit right in. I mean, as far as Elly's dad explained to me after the tournament, everyone thinks I'm a distant descendant of some fallen Draconian clan who won the genetic lottery. I think he called it 'bloodline recession'?"

"I'm pretty sure it's 'regression', and… that's actually not a terrible idea." Josh was looking at me expectantly, so I explained, "Dad-in-law is right; after what happened at the tournament, everyone's convinced that you're a Draconian. Since the Ordo Draconis is already recruiting them, we could use it as a pretense to hide your tree in our forest, so to speak."

"Right. That would… be useful?"

"Of course, it would be useful. Remember, we're still trying to keep your almighty chosen one status under wraps. The longer everyone's convinced that you're 'just' a Draconian from an unknown bloodline, the better."

"Huh. I expected some resistance to the idea," Josh muttered, then tentatively asked, "Does that mean I'm in?"

"Sure. Tell Roland I gave you the green light, and…"

"… And what?" When I didn't answer right away, my friend raised his hands in indignation once again. "Come on, man! You can't just leave me hanging like that!"

Ignoring his protest, I let the gears in my brain spin for a while, and only once I was sure my worries weren't unfounded did I point a finger at the guy.

"Before anything else, answer me this: How is your relationship going with Angie?"

"Erm… That's kind of out of the blue."

"Nope." I wagged my finger for emphasis. "This is important. Did you two come clear and moved past this silly 'test dating' phase already?"

"Well… uh… I was planning to do it during Valentine's, because it's thematic and stuff, so… I guess my answer is 'not yet'."

I did my best to stifle the groan clawing at my throat and only shook my head instead.

"That's not good. Get it done ASAP, preferably before we go back home."

"Do I really have to? And what does my love life have to do with anything we talked about until now anyway?"

"More than you would think." Josh raised a skeptical brow at that comment, so I resolved myself to explain the situation. "Fine. Listen up: you know that the Draconians are really particular about the bloodlines, right?"

"Yes?"

Ignoring how much his answer sounded like a question, I once again pointed at his dense mug.

"Think about who you are, in their eyes. You're a young Draconian who came out of nowhere, not affiliated with any of the clans, and as your first public act, you not only subdued a rampaging Knight, you also triumphed over both the heiress of the Dracis family and the young master of the Feilong clan in a big tournament specifically designed to draw attention to young talents. At this moment, you're probably the single most desirable bachelor on the island, and I wouldn't be surprised if once the dust settles down, the clans would start throwing every available bachelorette at you."

"That… sounds bad?"

"It is, trust me. So, if you want to avoid spending every day dodging pretty Draconian girls throwing themselves at you to have your babies, you better put on your lucky underpants, sit down, resolve your relationship with Angie, and start acting like a lovey-dovey idiot couple in public ASAP."

"Yeah, sure. Because it's just that easy…" Josh scoffed, like I just told him something unreasonable, but before I could emphasize how important this was, we were interrupted by the glass door (or rather, the small chine attached to it) making a tinkling noise as Roland and Duncan entered the bath.

"I hope we are not interrupting anything," Mr. Griffon noted as he came over. He had a bright blue towel slung over his shoulder, but otherwise, he was only wearing swimming trunks, showing off his lean yet well-toned body. He even had a solid six-pack, which made me a little jealous, as even though I've been consistently working out, I couldn't quite manage one yet. Duncan, on the other hand, was wearing a speedo, and he was just a silly pose and some body oil away from looking like a young bodybuilder. As for his stomach, he was apparently one of the rare people with an eight-pack, and he was bloody flaunting it.

"'main 'en, gie in th' water! A'am freezin' mah balls aff ower haur!"

"Please excuse the intrusion."

"This is a public bath, you're not intruding anywhere," I told Roland, and made some space for him. Instead, it was Duncan who jumped first into the water.

"Aw! T'is hoot!"

"Of course it is. It's a hot spring," Josh noted with just a hint of schadenfreude, while Roland slowly shook his head.

"You're supposed to slowly immerse yourself in the water, like this."

"Aye, aye. Bite me."

The big guy grumbled, then slipped even deeper into the water, until only his face from the nose up was visible. Meanwhile, Roland slowly acclimated to the temperature difference and settled down next to me.

"I managed to contact Sir Percival."

"That was quick," I noted a touch expectantly.

"As it turned out, Penelope had his e-mail address all along. He told me he will arrive on the island sometime next week, and that he'll message me again once he booked his flight." He paused here, as if gauging my reaction, then added, "He asked why you didn't tell him about what happened, and I told him you lost your memories."

"For the record, I still remember the times when that used to be a big secret," Josh noted on the side, and then followed it up with a shrug when I didn't react.

"Did he ask anything else?"

"No. I believe he will want to discuss what happened in private with you. Conversely, if you wish to message him, I can give you his address."

"No need. I'll cross that bridge when the bridge arrives on the island. For now, let me rest a bit longer."

"Yeah, coz ye arenae sleepin' tonecht," Duncan chimed in between two chuckles.

"Duncan, please," Roland came to my defense, but I raised a hand to stall him.

"Just leave him be." After saying so, I shifted my posture so that I would be submersed up to my shoulders, and after successfully resisting the urge to Far Glance at the girls to find out what they had in store for me, I softly added, "He's not exactly wrong, you know…"