There's a certain stillness that comes with revelations, like the world pauses just long enough for you to catch up. The world hasn't actually stopped moving, of course, but it keeps chugging along.

Even though I was physically present in my Physics class, my mind just refused to focus on the material being taught. I couldn't stop thinking about Midori's story and the concept of Promethean Nodes and Magitech Soldiers.

When the bell finally rang, signaling the end of class, I wandered through the quiet halls of St. Antonia's Academy toward my destination. It was already well past 4:30 in the afternoon, and the fading sunlight cast long shadows on the floor through the tall windows. In that moment, I felt like I was in a completely different world compared to the rundown high school I attended back on Earth.

The academic day at St. Antonia's wasn't rigidly structured; some students finished at three o'clock while others stayed until six, especially those in specialized programs. The schedule was designed to accommodate the diverse needs and lifestyles of a privileged student body. Some would be funneled as interns directly into the prestigious defense industry, while others would take over their family's responsibilities directly out of school. Terra's 'university' system was more like a doctoral program of old - where students delved deep into their chosen fields of study, conducting research and pushing the boundaries of knowledge.

The lack of proper dormitories on this island because of the blatant snobbery was still a thorn in my side, but at least the commute back to Greenhaven was pretty smooth. On the other hand, the campus was something out of a high-tech fairytale. St. Antonia's Academy was where the future seemed to have already arrived, blending seamlessly with the traditions and aesthetic of a bygone era.

As I walked through the campus, I couldn't help but admire the gothic architecture and plasma screens promoting the recreational zone. I remembered hearing about a week-long club fair that was starting today, a perfect opportunity for new students like me to explore different interests. However, my scholarship had already placed me in the robotics team, so I hadn't even considered other clubs until now and brushed it to the back of my mind. Midori had been pretty insistent that I check out the combat fencing club this week, so I decided to stop by before getting overwhelmed with schoolwork..

I came upon a small, trickling stream that fed into a serene pond nestled in the heart of the campus. The sound of the water dancing over rocks and the sight of colorful koi swimming gracefully captivated my attention. It was a brief moment of tranquility amidst the bustling atmosphere of the academy.
A series of tables on opposite sides across the stream stream was alive with the buzz of students congregating around signs and bulletin boards, advertising a dizzying array of clubs. The major clubs at these wealthy hubs were something else entirely - they had facilities that would make research universities on Earth green with envy. As someone who came from a parallel world, I couldn't wrap my head around dedicating all these resources to teenagers who were still figuring out who they were and what they wanted to do with their lives. But then again, this was Terra, a world that operated on a different set of rules. It was clear that the students at St. Antonia's took their extracurricular activities seriously.

The Robotics Team, which I was supposed to join as a scholarship member, had a dedicated building that looked more like a three-story high-tech corporate headquarters than a school club facility. It was a gleaming structure of glass and steel, bristling with antennas and satellite dishes, rumored to have a basement full of cutting-edge tech that could give some minor nations a run for their money.

But it was the Occult Club that really caught my eye. They had a whole observatory to themselves, complete with a high-resolution telescope that looked more like something NASA would use rather than a high school club. It was perched on the highest point of the campus on a hill at the center of the recreational zone, its dome gleaming in the afternoon sun like a beacon of innovation and discovery.

Of course, these were outliers - most of the sports teams and athletic clubs had to share one big athletic building, but even that building was a marvel of modern architecture, with sprawling fields, a modest pool, and various indoor courts. The funding disparity was a bit drastic, but I guess that's how things worked when you had a club that catered to established families working with magic, and what amounted to hands-on competitive internships with Terran robotics companies.

I stopped near the Schindler student lounge, leaning against a railing as I watched students buzz around. The air was filled with excitement and anticipation, a tangible buzz that seemed to reverberate through the entire campus. It was contagious, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of curiosity about what the dozens of clubs here were up to. The energy was electric; groups of students huddled around bulletin boards, each pitching their club with an almost palpable fervor. There was the usual array - sports teams, academic societies, arts clubs. The students had given me the impression of being… snooty, but here, we were all just students - bound by a shared enthusiasm for our extracurriculars. I couldn't help but smile as I watched the animated conversations and the genuine excitement on their faces.

I stood there at the edge of the stream, basking in the tranquility of the scene at the end of my first day. I took a deep breath, inhaling the crisp air and exhaling all the worries that had weighed me down throughout the day. The sound of laughter and chatter filled my ears, blending harmoniously with the gentle murmur of the stream. It was a moment of respite, a fleeting pause in the whirlwind of new experiences.

Then, I smiled as I spotted a large, shapely-looking rock with a flat top. It was perfect for a quick break - and to take out my sketchpad. Making these little sketches had always been my solace, a way to capture the world as I saw it, unfiltered and raw. I settled onto the rock, the coolness of its surface seeping through my school uniform, and opened my sketchpad to a blank page.

As I looked around, my eyes caught the play of shadows and light on the buildings, the lively expressions of students around the bulletin boards, and the way the late afternoon sun glinted off the observatory's dome. The scene before me was alive, each element telling its own story, and I wanted to capture it all. My pencil danced across the paper, tracing lines and curves, shadows and highlights.

I lost myself in the rhythm of sketching, the world around me fading into a blur of focused concentration. Sketching always brought me a sense of peace. It was a way to make sense of the world, to capture moments that would otherwise slip away unnoticed. Each stroke of my pencil felt like a conversation with the scene before me, an attempt to understand and interpret the moment's essence. I was no artist, but my sketches reflected how I saw the world.

There was something calming about the way my pencil traced across the paper, leaving behind shades of slate that slowly formed into recognizable shapes and forms. My hand moved instinctively, driven by a desire to translate what I saw into something tangible, something that could be held and remembered. This sketch wouldn't win any awards, but that wasn't the point. It was about capturing a feeling, a moment in time that I could look back on and remember the start of my journey here on this island.

Lost in my thoughts and the gentle rhythm of my pencil, I didn't hear her approach. It wasn't until a high-pitched, airy voice filled with excitement broke through my concentration that I realized I wasn't alone.

 

"Heya! Waaaaaaaatcha drawin' there?"

I jolted in surprise, my pencil skidding across the page and leaving a dark streak across my careful sketch. I turned, slightly annoyed at being interrupted, only to find myself staring at a girl standing behind me who seemed to embody the very essence of artistic flair.

She was blonde, but not the typical shade you'd find on Earth. Her hair was like spun gold, shining even in the fading light of the day. Her eyes were a captivating shade of bright yellow, too. Not a natural shade from what I was used to, but on Terra, 'natural' had a different meaning. The girl's hair was braided in an intricate crown wrapped around her head, ending in a braid falling to her waist. Her makeup was bold-goth, with purple lipstick and eyeshadow that somehow suited her perfectly. I noticed a small purple earring dangling from her right ear, with a delicate blue cloud swaying gently with her movements.

The girl wore the standard school uniform but with a twist that made it uniquely hers. Her skirt was a bit shorter, her blouse a bit tighter, and she added accessories that screamed individuality - a choker with a small, ornate amethyst at the center and several bracelets jangling her wrist.

She leaned in close, crouching and peering at my sketchpad with unabashed curiosity. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and despite my initial irritation, I found myself smiling at her just from her energy.

"Oh, just sketching the scene," I responded, turning the sketchpad so she could see it better.

The girl's eyes widened as she hopped over saw my amateurish lines and shapes. "This is really good! You've got a great sense of perspective and shading. Are you here to join the art club?" she asked, her words tumbling out in a rush.

I shook my head, feeling a bit embarrassed under her scrutiny. "No, I'm not. Erm... I'm here because a friend invited me to check out the combat fencing team. I just wanted to take a moment to gather myself and shake out some nerves before heading over."

Her gaze lingered on my sketchpad, analyzing every stroke and line with a discerning eye. It was almost unnerving how she seemed to dissect my work with such precision. "Wow! You've got a rather practical approach to your sketches," she observed, tilting her head as she studied the lines and shadows. "It's like you're trying to capture the essence of the moment, but in a very methodical way. Like... you're not just drawing what you see, you're drawing what it feels like to be here, but devoid of any unnecessary embellishments."

I blinked, surprised by her insight. "That's... actually a pretty accurate description now that I think about it," I replied, feeling awkward. "I never really thought about what I do that way. I mean, I learned to sketch while I was studying technical drafting. It started as a way to visualize projects I was working on, and I just didn't stop. I find it soothing."

Her eyes lit up with curiosity. "Now it makes sense! Your technique does have a certain architectural feel to it. You pay close attention to the structure, but the way you add shadow and light creates a sense of depth that is truly one-of-a-kind. You have a knack for highlighting the environment and how individuals fit into it like pieces in a jigsaw puzzle," she continued thoughtfully. "It's really cool!"

"Thank you?" I said, feeling a small flush of embarrassment. "I've always found comfort in the precision and clarity of lines. They're predictable, unlike a ton of things in life."

The girl nodded, her expression turning contemplative. "There's a certain safety in predictability, isn't there? But sometimes, the unexpected can be just as beautiful, if not more so. I've always found beauty in the hurricane we call life. To create harmony from discord, to find meaning in chaos. That's what art is about, isn't it? Expressing the indescribable, capturing the intangible. That's what I love about it."

I glanced at my sketch, then back at her. "That's an interesting way to look at it. I've always seen my sketches as a way to make sense of things and bring order to my thoughts. But you're right, there's a real beauty in capturing the intangible. I don't really consider myself an artist, though."

The girl smiled, her eyes sparkling with a sunny glint. "Art is what you make it, my friend! At the end of the day, it's about expressing yourself and your unique perspective. It doesn't help anyone to limit yourself with labels and definitions, you know?"

I chuckled, feeling a bit more at ease. "I guess you're right. Anyway, um... Are you also a first year student? What's your name?"

She closed her eyes and softly shook her head with a gentle smile, touching her choker. "Nope, I'm a second year. And I'm actually one of the representatives for the art club out here."

The girl cleared her throat with a cough before spreading her arms and twirling in a circle, balancing on one foot atop the rock.

"And as for my name..."

She paused dramatically, her outstretched hand pointing towards the horizon.

"I am Serena Morada Clara Esperança Pereira Morales — painter extraordinaire!" she announced, her voice lilting with each syllable as she rattled off an unusually long name.

My eyes widened in surprise, and I couldn't help but stare. "Umm. Wait. Sorry. Could you repeat that? Serena... was it?" I asked, still processing the string of names she'd just rattled off.

She giggled, clearly enjoying my reaction. "I'm just messing with you. Let's just say my mom was just a bit excessive with my government name. I usually go by Morada. Morada Morales, even. I love me some alliterations."

"Morada, huh?" I repeated. "It's an unusual name, but it suits you perfectly. Name's Ikazuchi, but uh, my friends all call me Ikki. So I guess you can call me that?"

Morada grinned, her eyes lighting up with a spark of energy. "Well, Ikki, it's a pleasure to meet you!" she exclaimed, extending her hand for a handshake. I reached out and shook her hand, feeling a sudden wave of warmth and her enthusiasm flow through me.

The strange, eccentric perched beside me on the rock in a crouch, her gaze drifting to the receding sun. "So, Ikki, what brings you all the way to St. Antonia's? You've got the air of someone who's seen much more than these stuffy school corridors and moldy old textbooks."

I hesitated momentarily, feeling my past experiences hang heavily in my mind. "I guess you could say that? I moved out here from Earth two weeks ago just for school. I'm actually here on a scholarship - but even that doesn't cover everything I need. My family... well, they took a chance to save money and send me out here, so there's a lot to take in but I'm managing."

"Ohhh, so you're the kid from Earth people have been making a hubbub about! Your story must be fascinating! The people I've met from Earth always have the most intriguing backgrounds," Morada mused, her expression filled with genuine interest.

I shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious under her enthusiastic gaze. "It's not that special, really. Just a regular guy trying to make the most out of this. Hell, I can barely make ends meet right now. I know there are work-study programs and internships available for scholarship students, but I haven't really looked into them yet. I don't know how busy I'm going to be until I get that figured out."

Morada's eyes softened with empathy, her playful demeanor momentarily subdued. "I get that," she said, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "My family isn't exactly rolling in credits either. We're fairly well-off, but I'm definitely out of my league here. I know the pressure of living up to expectations, especially when there's a lot riding on your success. I'm here on scholarship too. I guess my paintings caught a patron's eye at some point."

I blinked in surprise, "You're here because of your paintings huh? Sheesh, now you're making me feel self-conscious about these chicken scratches."

She laughed, coming out as a bright, melodic chirp. "Don't be! This stuff isn't a competition. Everyone's got their own style, their own story to tell through their work. That's what makes it so beautiful. The variety, the diversity of souls. Our work is like a mirror reflecting the mysteries of life itself."

"Yeah, yeah, I guess you're right," I admitted, feeling a sense of kinship with Morada. "I'd love to see your paintings sometime, though."

Her eyes brightened at the offer. "I'd love to show them to you! Speaking of which, you should totally just like, sign up for the art club. We could use more people like you."

I hesitated, considering her offer. "I'll think about it, but like I said, I've got a lot on my plate right now with… well, just trying to keep up with everything."

Suddenly, she reached over and grabbed my pencil hand in bothof hers, her eyes sparkling pleadingly. "Aww, pretty please? You don't have to commit or anything. Like, could we get your contacts just for a mailing signup then? Our annual funding kindasorta depends on the amount of interest we generate."

I felt the warmth of Morada's hands enveloping mine, her eyes shimmering with an earnestness that was hard to resist. How could I say no to that? With a sigh, I relented.

"Alright, alright," I chuckled, unable to resist her enthusiasm. "You've convinced me. I'll give you my contact info for your mailing list. But no promises beyond that, okay?"

Morada's face broke into a wide grin as she released my hand and pulled out a datapad from her bag. Then, I rattled off my contact details to her as she entered them. There was something about her infectious energy and genuine passion made me feel more at ease.

"Great! Now, you mentioned you were headed to the combat fencing club?" Morada asked, her eyebrows raised with curiosity. "Are you interested in joining, or just checking it out?"

"I'm just checking it out. A friend, er, invited me to see what it's all about," I explained, packing away my sketchpad.

"Oh, cool! You know, St. Antonia's girls' varsity team is one of the best in the world. Midori Tanaka really carries it. She's been the international varsity champ for two years running and boy oh boy does she know how to handle a sword! She's practically untouchable in her matches," she gushed, her voice tinged with pride and awe.

"Midori?" I perked up at the mention of her name. "Yeah, I know her. She's the one who invited me. She seems super into it."

Morada's face lit up with excitement. "Oh, you have no idea! Midori's fighting style is incredible. Her kenjutsu is like watching poetry in motion. While external magic is not allowed in competitions, Midori incorporates some really neat mana bursts into her general technique. But it's her innate skill and finesse that truly make her stand out. She's a natural - as if she was born to wield a sword!"

The way she spoke about Midori's skill and artistry painted a vivid picture in my mind. It was as if I could already see her graceful movements, the power in each strike, and the fire in her eyes.

"It sounds incredible," I said, my voice filled with genuine admiration. "I'd heard about it a bit back on Earth, but I'd never seen Terran combat fencing before, let alone someone as talented as Midori go at it."

Morada nodded enthusiastically, her eyes shining with excitement. "Oh, you're in for a treat, Ikki! The club is hosting an exhibition soonand I heard Midori will be a part of it. You should definitely come and watch her in action! It's an experience you won't want to miss."

I paid close attention as Morada talked about Midori, her admiration for the athlete evident in her animated gestures. I couldn't help but be intrigued by this exhibition; although I had witnessed Midori's skills firsthand during a life-or-death hostage situation, it was different from seeing her in a sporting event. Her movements while saving my life that day were etched into my memory. It came as no surprise to me that she was a star athlete, and it was relieving to have an explanation for those superhuman abilities I had witnessed. The thought of seeing her in action again, this time in a controlled setting, excited me.

I nodded, my interest piqued. "That's... actually really cool. I've never seen anything like Terran fencing before, but it sounds amazing."

"Yeah, it is!" Morada's excitement was palpable. "The matches are intense. There's a lot of strategy involved, too. You have to be quick, both physically and mentally since it borrows from traditional eastern and western dueling rules. Wanna come watch with me?"

I paused for a moment, considering Morada's offer. I had a strong feeling that Midori had wanted me to come out to see this in the first place, and now, with Morada's invitation, it felt like the universe was nudging me in that direction.

"Sure, why not?" I said, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "I'd love to see what all the hype is about."

Morada beamed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Great! Trust me, you won't be disappointed. The exhibition matches with Midori always draw a big crowd."

Just as I was about to respond again, the sound of a large garage door opening caught our attention. We both turned to see a group of students and faculty members gathering around a large, open space that had been cleared and a large metal platform of some sort being wheeled out of the athletics building.

The arena was an open, padded platform on a stage hovering a few feet above the ground, supported by hydraulics. There were foam cushions underneath the mobile, likely for safety reasons. However, I noticed the lack of railings and turned to Morada inquisitively. She met my confused gaze immediately with a wide grin.

"That looks… hazardous," I muttered.

"It's a modernized version of a lei tai, a traditional martial arts dueling platform. The lack of safety railings is intentional, of course. Combatants have to be mindful of their footing and balance while engaging with their opponent. Falling off the platform to the cushions below results in an automatic loss. A total wipeout!" Morada explained, her eyes not leaving the scene before us.

The platform was square, about thirty feet on each side, with a smooth, padded blue surface that seemed to absorb the light, giving it a slightly ominous appearance. Around it, a crowd of students gathered, buzzing with anticipation. The air was thick with excitement, and I could feel the energy pulsating through the crowd.

Morada and I made our way closer to the arena, where a growing crowd of students had already gathered. There was an electric buzz in the air - a sheer sense of excitement as everyone waited for the exhibition to begin.

"Looks like they're about to start," Morada whispered, her eyes fixed on the platform. "We're in for a real treat today."

The audience fell silent as two figures stepped onto the platform, their shadows cast against the setting sun. One was immediately recognizable as Midori, her confident posture and neatly tied ponytail exuding a sense of poise. She wore sleek combat armor made of carbon that hugged her athletic figure, with a blunted katana with sensors in hand reflecting the dwindling light.

Her opponent was a tall, Amazonian girl with caramel skin, blue eyes, and long double-braided cinnamon-red ponytails. She held a large single-edged sword made of the same material as Midori's - a beautiful, exotic, straight sword with a gap in the center and a blade that broadened near the hilt. Both fighters were clad in form-fitting carbon armor designed for maximum mobility and protection. The caramel-skinned girl, like Midori, was visibly muscled underneath the armor. However, it seemed like she had a couple of inches in height and reach over Midori.

The two to each other, their movements synchronized and filled with respect. The crowd erupted into applause, their excitement palpable. Morada leaned over to me, her voice filled with admiration.

"That's Midori's rival, Ranjika," she whispered. "She's considered one of the best fighters in the academy too. Ranji isn't part of the actual fencing team, but she's always up for a challenge. Her style is completely different from Midori's, more aggressive and unpredictable. It's going to be an epic match."

I blinked in surprise, turning to face Morada. "Wait, if she isn't on the fencing team, how did she end up being Midori's rival?" I asked, curiosity piqued.

Morada chuckled softly. "Well, Ranji is a bit of a legend and mystery for our generation and cohort. She's been challenging and defeating the top fighters across different disciplines, even those on the varsity team, since her first year. It's like she has this innate talent for combat, a raw power that just draws people in. Despite not officially being part of the team, she's always been one of the strongest fighters here. The fencing team was disappointed when she didn't join because they would've had three aces instead of two."

"She sounds pretty scary," I whispered, my eyes fixed on Ranjika's formidable presence. "I can see why she's considered Midori's rival. There's an air of intensity around her."

Morada nodded, her gaze never leaving the two fighters. "She definitely has a reputation for being fierce and relentless, and kinda good at everything. But she's actually a sweetheart. She's really passionate about pushing others to their limits and helping them grow. That's why she's always challenging different prospective fighters and mages at their own games and kinda... teaching them humility sometimes. She wants to test herself and help others improve too."

As Morada spoke, the crowd's anticipation reached a fever pitch. The atmosphere crackled with excitement, the air heavy with the energy of two extraordinary fighters about to clash. Midori and Ranjika faced each other, their eyes locked in an intense gaze. It was as if time itself stood still, awaiting the inevitable clash.

I watched in awe as Midori and Ranji settled into open stances, their eyes locked on each other. The tension in the air was thick as the crowd grew quiet, awaiting the start of the exhibition match.

The referee, a short, stern-looking portly lady with curly, neck-length strawberry blonde hair and a whistle crossed her arms with a microphone in hand. The two rivals fastened their grips on their sheathes and settled into opening stances. Then referee's voice boomed across the arena through a set of speakers facing out from the edge of the cushions.

"Combatants, prepare yourselves!"

I squinted as I observed both fighters, analyzing their postures and movements. Ranjika was wielding the heavy-looking sword had a firm and stable stance, while Midori's posture was more fluid and upright. However, her steps were graceful and purposeful, with hints of a dancer's training. It was clear she was skilled.

Midori and Ranjika both tightened their grips, their eyes shining with determination. It was as if the whole world had faded away, leaving only the two of them on that platform. I could practically feel the intensity radiating from them.

"Begin!" the referee shouted through a microphone.

The crowd erupted into cheers as Midori and Ranji unsheathed their weapons. Instead of charging each other, however, they both stepped back, rotating laterally with caution. Confusion seeped into the crowd as they anticipated an explosive clash. But the two simply began to circle each other, their movements measured and deliberate.

My brain spun into motion, analyzing the strategies at play. It was clear that both fighters were testing each other, probing for weaknesses and trying to gauge for reactions. The crowd held their breath, captivated by the dance of anticipation unfolding before them.

"I see..." I muttered.

"What's up?" Morada asked, turning to me with a curious expression.

"I think they're testing each other's range and body language," I replied, my eyes fixed on the intense duel unfolding before us. "How long has it been since they've fought each other?"

Morada thought momentarily before responding, her eyes still glued to the spectacle before us. "Hmm, I think it's been nearly two years since their last match? They had a close duel back then, but it was a no-contest. Ranji ended up joining the archery team instead of pursuing combat fencing. But now they're facing off again, and I can already see the sparks flying."

The two combatants circled each other warily, sizing each other up and searching for an opening. The tension in the air was palpable as the crowd watched with bated breath. Midori moved with a mesmerizing precision, her blade glinting in the dimming light.

Her opponent remained composed, matching her fluidity with her own controlled movements as she inhaled and exhaled gently, turning her body at tight, 30-degree angles to match Midori's movements.

"Rai-chan," I said to my companion. "Activate the HUD and perform an Analysis. What info can you pick up from a scan?"

Rai-chan acknowledged me with a cheerful chirp, projecting a holographic display in front of me. As I observed Midori and Ranjik circling each other, the display highlighted key data for me to see. Bubbles appeared above Ranjika's legs, indicating exceptional development in her fast twitch muscle fibers. Meanwhile, Midori's scan displayed a focus on agility and balance, with bubbles clustered around her core and upper back. She gracefully sidestepped, almost gliding across the platform as she positioned herself in a thrusting stance with her katana.

Ranjika mirrored her movements, opening her stance slightly and shifting her weight to the balls of her feet. It was almost like an invitation for Midori to make the first move. The tension in the air was palpable as the crowd held their breath, waiting for the clash between these two veteran fighters.

A gust of wind swept through the arena, tousling my hair and causing a shiver to run down my spine. Everything seemed to slow down as I watched Midori and Ranjika lock eyes, their determination evident in every movement.

Then, with a resounding thunderclap, they clashed.

Midori made the first move, her blade slicing through the air like a bolt of lightning in an explosive charge. But her opponent was ready, swiftly intercepting Midori with launching a powerful counterstrike. The sound of metal meeting metal echoed around the arena, accompanied by gasps and cheers from the crowd.

With deft skill, Midori changed her grip and responded to Ranjika's strike with a swift downward motion, redirecting its force. She then seized on the opening, moving fluidly and delivering a series of precise slashes with her blade.

I whispered to myself in amazement, "She's right past the reach and threat zone." My eyes stayed glued to the intense duel unfolding before me.

Reacting swiftly, Ranjika abandoned her rooted stance and shifted into a slanted half-sword position. Midori continued to press forward with her attack, only to let out a surprised yelp in the middle of her swing. The cinnamon-haired girl stepped into the strike and used her shoulder to drive Midori back, causing her to stumble momentarily.

The crowd erupted into a collective gasp as Midori struggled to regain her balance, her grip on the katana faltering for a split second.

Ranjika wasted no time taking advantage of the opening. With a graceful and lethal swing, she aimed for Midori's side, determined to land a quick hit.

But Midori swiftly countered the strike with a fluid movement, their swords clanging together once again as she slid and redirected the momentum of Ranjika's two-handed swing.

In an instant, Midori regained her balance and pushed Ranjika's blade away, retaliating with a diagonal slash as they broke contact.

The crowd gasped and cheered, the excitement palpable in the air as the caramel-skinned girl ducked underneath the slash, trapping Midori's sword with the gap in her own. Ranjika followed the momentum and exploded upward, throwing an exotic-looking kick at Midori's head that curved into a devastating, whip-like loop.

Midori pivoted deftly on her foot, leaning back as Ranjika regained her grip and thrust her sword forward at Midori's exposed torso. The raven-haired girl twisted, dropping to push off her hand into a side handspring, narrowly avoiding Ranjika's.

Ranjika kicked off her rear foot immediately and launched herself towards Midori, who was already in the air.

Midori planted, stopping her momentum with eyes wide as the cinnamon-haired adversary raised her sword in a two-handed grip, preparing to deliver a devastating strike. Time seemed to slow down as the audience held their breath, their eyes fixed on the impending clash as Midori scrambled to find her base.

Then, she made a sudden, almost otherworldly movement to dive across the platform, avoiding the deadly strike that could have ended the match. Once again, they faced each other with intense determination, their breathing heavy and hearts racing. The crowd erupted into boisterous cheers, their voices melding together in an exhilarating chorus of excitement and adrenaline.

"They're. SOOOO cool!" Morada hopped up and down next to me, her excitement contagious. "Look at them go!"

The crowd's cheers resonated in the air, creating a wave of energy that enveloped the entire arena.

As Midori and Ranjika circled each other once more, their eyes locked in a fierce gaze, I couldn't shake off the feeling that there was more to this duel than just a friendly match. An undercurrent of rivalry and unfinished business seemed to hang in the air, adding an extra layer of tension to the already intense atmosphere.

I could practically taste the anticipation as the duel continued, my senses heightened by the pulsating energy in the arena. The clash of swords filled the air, mingling with the scent of sweat and burnt rubber. But amidst all that, an irresistible aroma suddenly wafted through the crowd—a tantalizing smell of grilled meat.

My mouth watered as I tried to locate the source of the aroma. I looked around, my nostrils twitching as I tried to locate the source of the mouthwatering smell to no avail. I couldn't pinpoint the origin of the delicious smell. It seemed to come from every direction, drifting and teasing my senses. My attention wavered for a moment, drawing my focus away from the duel as my stomach growled.

But as I allowed my gaze to wander, I suddenly felt a jab in my side, causing me to jolt in shock. Then, I heard a high-pitched noise of a girl clearing her throat

Startled, I glanced away from the combatants and down to see a mop of blonde hair and a beret. The girl stood there, sighing deeply with a platter of barbecued skewers in hand before she looked up and stared at me with familiar green eyes.

"Hungry?" the Dior said in that raspy voice of hers, her expression unchanging. However, her eyes briefly flicked towards the arena with a glimmer of interest.

Before I could react, Morada, still glued to the ongoing match, reached over and snagged a skewer with a fluid and natural movement.

"Thanks, Dior!" she chirped without taking her eyes off the fight.

Surprised by the interaction, I turned to Dior. "Wait. You two know each other?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

Morada finally tore her gaze away from the match to answer with an enthusiastic nod.

"Yrreah!" she shouted as she chewed with her mouth full and quickly swallowed. "We go way back. Dior's been my go-to bestie... well, forever. I encouraged her to apply here. Also to come out here and check out the clubs. She's the best!"

Dior just sighed in response, a faint hint of a smile appearing on her otherwise impassive face as she offered the platter to me.

"Dig in," she stated mutedly.

I took a pair of skewers, still slightly taken aback by the dynamic between the two.

"Where'd you even get these?" I asked, baffled at the plate of high-quality meat.

Dior gestured towards a booth with a sign hanging over it that said 'The Gastronomy Club' a good distance away. They had stacks of steaming-hot catering trays piled on a table, giving out smoothies and food.

"Dior just joined after her last class," she explained in her characteristically detached tone.

I nodded, taking a cautious bite of the skewer. The flavors exploded in my mouth, savory and perfectly seasoned. It was a welcome distraction from the intensity of the match.

As I savored the delicious barbecue, I was drawn back to the platform.

The clash of steel rang out again as the two combatants' swords met in a shower of sparks. Ranjika's powerful strikes now forced Midori back step by step, her blade snaking forward in a whipping motion full of visible weight. Each swing of her sword was like a thunderclap, resonating with a power that seemed to shake the air around her.

But Midori was no pushover. With each step she took, she gracefully evaded her opponent's onslaught, her body twisting and turning like a dancer in a deadly ballet. She grinned as she leaned back, pivoting to dance along the platform's edge.

The crowd held their breath, the tension rising to a fever pitch as Midori stepped back, one foot at a time, until she was backed to the literal edge of defeat. Ranjika grunted, her muscles straining as she smashed her sword over and over against Midori's guard with a resounding crash. The force behind the blow reverberated through Midori's arms, threatening to knock the katana out of her hands.

Still, she followed the impacts with unwavering determination, yielding just enough to pass the momentum into the platform. Rai-chan's HUD

flashed with warnings, analyzing the impact and stress on Midori's weapon and upper body.

Each strike sent a visible tremor down her spine, but Midori maintained her focus as she pivoted to the side, circling off the arena's edge.

My HUD highlighted Midori's arms in red circles, labeling her arms with the words 'WARNING: Lactic acid buildup critical.' It was clear that fatigue was setting in, and she couldn't sustain this level of direct defense for much longer.

Ranjika pressed Midori relentlessly, her strikes growing more aggressive with each passing moment. The crowd gasped as Midori's foot slipped off the platform, her body teetering on the edge of defeat. Midori quickly pivoted and dropped into a back roll, circling off the arena's edge to deflect another smashing strike from her opponent's sword. The clash reverberated through the air, echoing in my ears as I watched with bated breath.

It seemed like a matter of seconds before Ranjika would smash her guard and tumble off the platform, succumbing to defeat.

"Not good," I muttered, watching Midori teetered dangerously close to the edge. "The strength difference between them is just too much. Midori's arms are going to burn out."

"Look again," Dior said suddenly, her voice cutting through the crowd's noise. I tore my eyes away from Midori's precarious position and turned to Dior, confusion evident on my face.

"What do you mean?" I asked, searching for any hint in her expression that would explain her cryptic words.

A small smirk tugged at the corner of Dior's lips as she pointed subtly towards Midori. "Watch closely," she replied, her green eyes gleaming knowingly.

Curiosity piqued, I redirected my attention to the intense duel unfolding before me.

"Zooming in," Rai-chan intoned, opening a window in my vision that focused in on Midori's upper body.

And then, I saw it - a subtle shift in Midori's body language. Instead of panic or fear in her eyes, there was a glimmer of calculating mischief.

With each strike aimed at her, Midori's footwork became more precise. Her steps were deliberate and calculated as if she was deliberately drawing Ranjika closer to the edge. The wind swept through Midori's raven locks as she danced precariously on the platform's edge, her katana held in a defensive posture.

She's pulling Ranjika into the corner of the arena, I realized, my mind racing as I pieced together Midori's strategy. Every step back seemed measured, drawing Ranjika in and luring her into a false sense of dominance. It was a dangerous game, but Midori played it with the confidence of someone who knew the platform better than her own skin.

Midori's eyes flashed with opportunity. She feigned a stumble in a move that left me gasping, her body swaying as if she were about to fall off the platform. The crowd's cheers crescendoed as Ranjika, caught in the heat of the moment, flourished with a wound-up overhead smash.

Ranjika, sensing victory, lunged forward with a powerful horizontal strike, her sword arcing across in what should have been the final blow. But at the last possible moment, Midori leaned in and met the stronger girl's strike with a deft maneuver that turned the tables entirely.

Instead of trying to block the blow, Midori wrapped her blunted katana around Ranjika's sword. It twisted, using the momentum to slide against the blade's edge and yank herself closer to her opponent. Pulling Ranjika's body close in a body lock, Midori's feet slipped off the edge, her body teetering precariously as she executed a daring grapple.

"An opponent is defeated when a point that is designated as a vital is slashed or stabbed with enough force to light up the sensors on both the armor and weapon, or the first to fall to the cushions below the platform," Dior explained. "A maneuver like this would not be viable in real life, but here..."

My eyes snapped wide as I realized what she was doing. It was a brazen and risky move, one that left no room for error but-

Midori twisted her body, using her momentum to swing under Ranjika. With a grunt of effort, she pulled her opponent off-balance, forcing them both to topple over the platform's edge. The crowd gasped in unison, their eyes wide with shock.

But Midori wasn't done yet. As they fell, she maneuvered herself, gripping the underside of the platform with one hand. Her fingers found purchase on the edge's better shape, a testament to her familiarity with the arena. Her opponent, caught off guard, flailed helplessly as she plummeted towards the cushions below.

Midori swung herself back up onto the platform with a triumphant yell, her muscles straining with the effort. She landed gracefully, standing tall and victorious, as Ranjika's figure disappeared beneath the edge, hitting the cushions with a soft thud.

The crowd erupted into thunderous applause, the sound deafening in its intensity. Midori's stood there, panting heavily, her katana hanging loosely in her hand as she soaked in the adulation.

"Winner - Midori Tanaka!" The referee's voice boomed over the speakers, and the applause reached a fever pitch.

Midori's face, flushed with exertion and triumph, was split into a wide grin. She raised her katana in a salute and then bowed to a grinning Ranjika who'd just hopped back on the platform, acknowledging the crowd and her defeated opponent with equal respect.

The instructor approached Midori with her microphone and raised her hand high, announcing her victory once more to the cheering crowd. I watched as Midori's eyes scanned the audience, her chest heaving with each breath as she tried to catch her breath. Then, her gaze met mine.

For a fleeting moment, our eyes locked, and I saw something in Midori's expression that I hadn't noticed before. It was more than just the thrill of victory or the exhaustion from the intense battle. There was a glint of gratitude in her eyes, a silent thank you that didn't need words. Her eyes twinkled in mischief as her lips curved into a small, genuine smile, different from the triumphant grin she had just shown the crowd. It was softer, more personal.

As quickly as it happened, the moment passed. Midori turned her attention back to the crowd, her smile broadening as she waved with that cheery grin.

"But... Ranjika still had balance in that position…" Dior stated mutedly. I turned to stare down at her.

Dior's eyes flickered with a hint of confusion, her brow furrowing slightly as she contemplated the match.

"It doesn't make sense," she murmured, more to herself than to me. "Ranjika is more than strong and skilled enough to return to the platform. Why...?"

Morada, still buzzing with excitement, bounced over to us. "That was AMAZING!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. "Those two are full of all kinds of little tricks like that, huh?"

Dior, however, wasn't swept up in the excitement. Her expression remained pensive, her gaze lingering on the empty platform where Midori had just stood victorious. "But Ranji... she didn't have to lose like that," she said, almost to herself.

Morada's expression softened, her excitement dimming slightly as she really paid attention to Dior. "Hey, it's just a show, remember? A friendly exhibition for people that are interested. Ranjika's style... it's pretty brutal. If she had won, it might not have been the best look," she said, her voice gentle but firm as she put on a pout.

I looked between Morada and Dior, piecing together their words.

"Oh," I stated in realization. Did Ranjika just...?

"Thank you! Thank you, everyone!" Midori called out to the audience on the microphone, her voice bright and filled with energy. The crowd responded with another round of enthusiastic applause, their cheers echoing through the open space.

"As some of you might know, our fencing team has produced some of the finest duelists in the league's history in recent years! And we're always looking for new talent. So, if you've ever dreamt of wielding a sword, or if you just want to learn a cool new sport, come check us out! We train hard, but we have a lot of fun too!"

Her eyes scanned the crowd, her voice carrying a playful note that seemed to echo her mischievous personality. "And remember, it's not just about fighting and whacking each other over the head. It's about discipline, strategy, and building friendships that last a lifetime. So, don't be shy! Join us and be a part of something amazing!"

I couldn't help but smile at Midori's enthusiastic pitch. Her energy was infectious, and I could see several students in the crowd nodding and whispering to each other, clearly considering her offer.

Midori hopped off the platform with an ease that spoke of years of training and experience. She made her way through the crowd, receiving pats on the back and cheers. Her presence was like a magnet, drawing people in with her radiant energy and unmistakable charisma.

As Midori mingled among her admirers, Morada suddenly grabbed my arm, her grip surprisingly firm. "Ikki! Dior! You gotta come with me! There's this amazing spot on campus for the sunset. You'll both love it I tell ya!"

Startled by her sudden enthusiasm, I stumbled a bit as she pulled me along. "Uh, Morada, I was actually thinking about heading back soon. It's been a long day, and I-"

"Nonsense!" Morada interrupted with a bright grin, not slowing her pace. "You're new here, and you haven't gotten around yet. Trust me, it's worth it!"

I glanced over at Dior, hoping for some advice and help. But Dior just shrugged, a resigned smile on her face as she followed Morada's lead. "Ikki will get used to it," she said exasperatedly.

"Wait, what do you mean by getting u-"

Morada's giggling cut me off, her energy undimmed as she yanked me through the crowd with surprising agility. "You'll see! It's part of the whole school experience. Can't let you miss out on that now, can we?"

Dior's resigned smile deepened, her eyes crinkling at the edges as she followed.

I let out a sigh of amusement and resignation as I allowed myself to be led away by Morada. Her enthusiasm was contagious, and despite my initial reluctance, I looked forward to whatever adventure she had in store for us.

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. The campus was bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, its gothic architecture taking on a magical quality in the fading light.

As we reached the spot Morada had mentioned, my breath caught in my throat. It was a secluded area overlooking the city with a clear view of Shoreline City's bay. The view was breathtaking, the colors of the sunset reflecting off the water and casting a serene glow over everything.

Morada let go of my arm, spinning around with her arms outstretched. "Isn't it amazing?!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling excitedly.

The water shimmered with the setting sun's reflection, creating a picturesque scene that could have been lifted straight from a painting. The sky was ablaze with oranges and pinks, the colors vibrant against the darkening blue.

"Huh," I mouthed out.

"See? Told you it was worth it," Morada said, her voice softer now as she sat down on the grass. Dior sat beside her, her usually stoic demeanor giving way to a small, contented smile as she gazed out at the view.

I sat down next to Dior, the day's events replaying in my mind. The run-in with Caroline to start the day. Meeting Natasha in history. The veritable feast I had for lunch while hearing Midori's life story. The intensity of the fencing match, the unexpected encounter with Dior and Morada, and now this moment of peace. It all blended together into a surreal experience that felt… overwhelming.

Still…

I leaned back, letting the cool grass cushion me as I looked up at the sky, now a canvas of stars emerging from the twilight. A sense of calm settled over me, the day's chaos dissipating with the sea breeze.

 

This part wasn't too bad after all.