"Dang it, no roommate!" Rose groaned, dragging her hands down her face as she stomped along the hallway beside Claire. "What am I supposed to do with a whole bunk bed to myself? Start a pillow collection? Hang my laundry on it?"
Claire flinched at the sound, instinctively shrinking a little beside her.
Rose shot her a mock pout. "What am I supposed to do with a bunk bed all to myself? Hang my coat on the top one? Practice dramatic lonely monologues?"
Claire glanced down, fiddling with the edge of her sleeve. "I-I guess… that's kind of lonely," she murmured.
Rose sighed, shaking her head with a dramatic huff. "I was so sure I'd get some cool sword girl or a pyromancer with too much caffeine. But nope. Room all to myself. Staff says no one's assigned — apparently 'paperwork thing.'" She made air quotes, still pouting, "And I was so hyped too, you know? Swung the door open like 'Let's go, roommate bonding montage!' and it was just… silence. Not even a dust bunny to greet me."
Claire offered a small, awkward shrug, unsure what else to say.
Rose hesitated, then gave a crooked grin, though it faltered at the edges. "Eh… it's whatever, I guess."
They walked in step for a bit, the crowd thinning as they turned down a quieter hall.
Then Claire blurted, too quickly, "At least you didn't get stuck with the guy who saved you from getting flattened and exploded himself in the process."
Rose blinked — then smirked. "Oh? The tall, moody one with the dead-eye stare?"
Claire's face turned scarlet. "I-I'm not a damsel or anything, it wasn't like that!"
Rose smirked, leaning in close like she was about to tease again — but she paused, catching the real strain in Claire's voice.
She sobered a little, offering a gentler nudge to Claire's shoulder. "Hey, seriously though. You okay? You've been kinda… twitchy since earlier."
Claire swallowed, gaze dropping. "I… it's just weird, I guess. Being in the same room. After everything."
Rose gave a crooked smile, masking the flicker of genuine concern under playful banter. "Well, you're tough. Even if you hide behind that hood half the time."
Claire tried for a weak laugh. "I-it's comfy."
Rose's grin faded into a faint smile. "Hey — look, if it gets weird or awkward or whatever, just come crash in my empty room. I've got snacks."
Claire glanced up, warmth flickering in her chest. "Thanks, Rose."
"Anytime, capisce?" Rose smirked, though this time it wasn't just teasing.
They kept walking, the din of the academy around them — training matches breaking out in the distance, a couple students arguing over dorm keys, someone setting off a fire spell by accident — and somehow, it felt a little less overwhelming than it had a minute ago.
Claire's thoughts drifted again — back to Kazuki.
The memory of that whirlwind strike, blades cutting through air like threads, men falling before they even knew what hit them. It clung to her mind. The way he moved was sharp, clean, practiced… and somehow, unsettlingly familiar. Like watching a scene she was supposed to remember, but couldn't.
Then there was that gray-haired man, the mark on his shoulder — a crescent of dark ink. She hadn't paid much attention in the chaos, but now, in the stillness of her room, the image itched at the back of her mind. She'd seen it before. Somewhere she wasn't supposed to.
A sudden sharp pulse cracked behind her eyes.
Claire hissed, clutching her forehead as a wave of pain surged through her skull. Her breath hitched, and for a second the room blurred at the edges. Fleeting images flickered in the haze — a woman's face, indistinct, like a half-faded photograph. Too blurred to place, but heavy with meaning.
"Ah—" she breathed out, her hand gripping the side of her head tighter.
The ache eased as quickly as it came, leaving her trembling and cold. She snapped her journal shut, pressed both palms against her temples, and forced herself to breathe. The world steadied after a moment, though her skin still prickled with the ghost of the headache.
Slowly, Claire climbed down the ladder from the top bunk, her bow slung over her back. Her boots thudded softly against the floor. She hesitated at the bottom, one hand tightening around the rail as she gathered herself.
It was too early to be falling apart.
Grabbing her journal, she took a long breath and opened the door, stepping into the hallway. Her stomach growled on cue, loud in the quiet corridor.
Perfect.
She quickened her pace, the air outside fresher and a little easier to breathe. It was just after 8:12 AM — still nearly an hour before they'd be summoned to the battleground. Enough time to find Rose and maybe scrounge up something edible before another round of overwhelming crowds and instructors barking orders.
She spotted Rose up ahead, practically bouncing in place as she waited by the stairwell, clearly having bailed from her empty dorm early. The sight was weirdly reassuring. Claire wasn't sure if she was ready for conversation, but at least with Rose, it never stayed awkward for long.
As they stepped into the cafeteria, the wave of warm, savory scents hit Claire like a wall. Donburi, curry rice, crispy tempura, grilled meat skewers, and freshly steamed buns blended with the faint sweetness of pastries and cakes. Her stomach let out a traitorous growl.
She froze by the doorway, a little overwhelmed by the sheer number of students already bustling through the space — plates clattering, voices overlapping, the occasional shimmer of magic from a spell-garnished meal. It felt like chaos dressed up as lunchtime.
"Wait—" Rose's voice cut through. "Is that… chocolate chip cookies?!"
Claire barely had time to glance over before Rose bolted toward one of the counters like a heat-seeking missile, her bag bouncing against her hip.
Claire sighed, hugging her journal to her chest as she shuffled to the side, trying to stay out of the foot traffic while Rose did… whatever that was.
A minute later, Rose reappeared, triumphant, with a small paper box in hand — and already stuffing a cookie into her mouth.
"Hmmph! Look, Clair—chuff cheep cookeez!" she beamed, words utterly mangled around the bite she hadn't bothered to finish.
Claire blinked, half-appalled, half-amused. "Seriously? You bought an entire box? And can you please not talk with your mouth full?"
Rose grinned wider, unbothered by the crumbs sticking to the corners of her lips. She held the box out like a prize. "Wanna try? S'good."
Claire hesitated. The way Rose was eating them was objectively horrifying — but the smell was impossible to ignore. Reluctantly, she plucked a cookie from the box, careful to avoid Rose's crumb trail, and took a small bite.
The cookie was warm, soft, perfectly chewy. Sweet, with a touch of sea salt on top.
Her eyes widened. "Oh… okay, that's actually really good."
"Told ya." Rose swallowed a mouthful and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Don't knock the important things in life, Claire."
Claire let out a soft laugh, the tension in her shoulders easing for the first time all morning. "I still think you could've bought a proper breakfast though."
"I did. This counts," Rose smirked, grabbing another cookie.
And for a brief, ordinary moment, it felt easy — like they were just two friends at a school cafeteria, like everything outside this room didn't matter. Claire let herself enjoy it.
Rose took a few excited steps back, grinning at Claire — and crashed straight into a tray of food.
A loud clatter. A splatter of rice, soup, and bits of meat hit the floor and worse, the backs of three older students.
For a second, the cafeteria went quiet around them.
Rose froze, her face draining as she turned, seeing the mess and the upperclassmen's sharp stares. The first girl, wiping broth off her uniform sleeve, fixed Rose with a cold, flat look.
"You blind or just stupid?" she muttered, her voice low, edged with irritation.
Rose shrank back instinctively. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"
The second girl gave a short, humorless laugh. "Yeah? Well, you did."
The third one just stared for a beat, then stepped a little closer. "Watch yourself next time."
Claire moved in quickly, tension tight in her chest as she grabbed Rose's arm.
"She's sorry," Claire said quietly, though there was a strain in her voice now. She stepped forward, placing herself between Rose and the seniors, one hand half-raised. "It was an accident."
The first senior let out a sharp breath through her nose, flicking broth off her fingers with a disgusted flick. "Accidents have consequences, rookie."
The second senior gave a dry, humorless laugh. "Why are you being so soft about it? She humiliated us. People need to learn how things work around here."
"Reckless little pissants," the third one muttered under her breath, her gaze sharp and lingering on Rose's shrinking frame.
Claire clenched her fists at her sides, pulse hammering against her ears. She glanced at Rose, who wouldn't even lift her head now, her shoulders trembling. The rising mix of anger and fear made Claire's voice come out tight, but steady.
"Look… we'll pay you back," Claire said, forcing calm into her words. "It's not worth this, alright? Just leave it."
The first senior arched a brow, scoffing. "Pay us back? You think we care about your pocket change?"
"Yeah," the second one cut in, stepping closer, her voice lower, meaner. "What you two need is a lesson in respect."
Claire's stomach twisted, but she didn't move. She kept her arms where they were, blocking Rose with a trembling hand. The hallway around them felt like it was closing in — students slowing, whispering, some pausing to watch.
"Look, this doesn't have to turn into a thing," Claire tried again. "Capisce?"
For a beat, no one spoke.
Then the first senior's lip curled. "You got some nerve, newbie."
Her hand slipped to the staff slung against her back. The other two followed — one resting a palm on her blade's hilt, the other adjusting her grip on a naginata leaning against the wall.
Claire's breath hitched. Her hands shook slightly as she reached for her bow, fingers brushing the fletching of an arrow.
The lead senior grinned. "Hope you're ready to back that up."
The air felt heavier now, thick with the hush of waiting eyes. Claire's heartbeat pounded so loud it nearly drowned out the murmurs around them. Her grip on Tearful Embrace was unsteady, but she raised it anyway — arms stiff, shoulders squared.
She didn't want this.
But she wasn't about to let them crush Rose.
Behind her, Rose stood frozen, wide-eyed and pale, her shoulders tense like a trapped animal. Claire could feel it — the ripple of fear radiating off her best friend. And it made something stubborn burn in her chest.
Tearful Embrace's familiar weight settled in Claire's palms. It wasn't confidence exactly… but it was something. A reason to stay standing.
Around them, students edged in, drawn by the commotion. Chairs scraped, someone whispered, and the faint clink of drawn weapons cut through the air. No staff moved. No one intervened.
"All I know is," Claire spoke up, her voice soft but steadying, "you're just using being seniors as an excuse to push people around."
It wasn't a grand line, not the sort of thing that would earn applause. But it was true — and she clung to that.
The oldest senior scoffed, flicking a strand of food-slicked hair from her shoulder. "Kid's got guts," she muttered, smirking. "Too bad guts don't count for much here."
"We're not equals, junior," the second one chimed in, a smirk curling her lip. "You don't get to talk like that to us."
"Heh… or point weapons at us," the third sneered, shifting the naginata against her shoulder.
Claire's fingers fumbled, pulling three arrows free from her quiver. Her hands trembled as she notched them — far from clean, but good enough. The string pulled tight, the familiar strain steadying her nerves in some small, fragile way. Her yellow eyes locked on them, her body humming with tension, a quiet, reckless defiance settling in her gut.
"I don't want this," Claire admitted, her voice shaking, but with a thread of steel beneath. "But if you leave me no choice…"
A small, awkward smile touched the edge of her lips, crooked and tired and brave in a way she didn't fully understand.
"Then fine. You want a fight? You'll get one."
The first senior's eyes narrowed. "Tch. Another idiot who doesn't know how things work around here."
She exhaled, lifting her staff with a slow, lazy motion — but the tightening of her grip and the faint crackle of energy at its tip told a different story. The air around them sharpened, thick with the electric snap of a fight about to break loose.
"Hope you're ready to learn fast."
Claire swallowed hard, feeling Rose's gaze on her. She risked a glance back, just for a second — Rose's face pale, her hands trembling, but she understood. Without a word, Rose stepped back, the message in her retreat clear: I'm counting on you.
And that was enough.
The senior leader's contempt twisted into something nastier as light magic gathered at the tip of her staff. The other two moved in, their weapons gleaming — a curved blade, a naginata — ready to overwhelm Claire fast.
Her pulse spiked. She drew, aimed, and loosed three arrows in one breath. They streaked through the air — one deflected by the naginata, another knocked aside by the curved blade, the third skimming past the leader's shoulder. The crowd flinched as arrows ricocheted off nearby tables.
The blast of light magic came next — fast, blinding.
Claire barely reacted in time. She dove aside, grabbing a table by its edge and heaving it up between them as a makeshift shield. The light exploded against it in a burst of heat and force, sending her staggering back as the table slammed against her side.
Close. Too close.
She grit her teeth, adrenaline sharpening her senses as the seniors closed in. The one with the curved blade lunged low — Claire instinctively leapt, the slash biting through empty air just beneath her feet. Midair, she twisted, the naginata's horizontal swing whistling past her ribs.
She hit the ground hard, rolling, bow clutched tight. The realization struck her all at once — this was real. And she was still standing.
No time to hesitate.
Using the momentum, Claire flipped back to her feet, hands brushing the floor. In one smooth motion she kicked off, flipping through the air while nocking fresh arrows mid-spin. The seniors hesitated just a beat — long enough to be caught off guard by the speed of it.
She landed in a crouch, bow drawn, arrows aimed dead at them.
Her breath trembled but her voice, shaky as it was, still found its way out.
"Is… that all you've got?"
A few gasps rippled through the watching crowd. No one spoke. Even the staff on duty lingered by the walls, unwilling to step in yet.
The oldest senior scowled, her jaw clenched so tight a muscle jumped in her cheek. "Ugh. This is getting ridiculous," she growled, venom lacing every word.
Behind Claire, Rose could only stare — heart pounding, pride and awe swelling in her chest. The same shy girl who flinched at loud voices was standing her ground, arrows drawn, daring them to move.
Rose swallowed, her voice a small breath in the tense silence.
"…Claire," she whispered.
The red-haired senior's eyes burned with fury as flames gathered in her hand — three orbs of fire crackling to life with a hiss. With a sharp flick, she sent them hurtling toward Claire.
Claire's muscles tensed. No thinking — just moving.
Her bow came up, and in a single, practiced motion, she fired. The first arrow struck one of the fireballs midair, bursting it in a flare of harmless sparks. She sidestepped the second, her boots scraping against the floor, and launched herself onto a cafeteria table just as the third shot past where she'd been.
The two other seniors were already closing in, weapons drawn.
Too fast.
A shimmer of light. The naginata-wielding girl surged forward, her blade extending in five precise lunges — a Stellar Skill. Claire dodged left and right along the table's surface, feeling the edge of the strikes slice air near her skin.
The second senior, wielding a curved blade, slashed low in a twin arc, forming a cross. Claire pivoted on one foot, barely ducking the strike as it carved into the table's edge.
She didn't stop. In one fluid motion, she snatched two arrows, twisted midair in a backward leap, and fired both. The arrows struck their marks — knocking the naginata clean from the girl's hands and sending the curved blade skidding across the floor.
A hush rippled through the crowd.
The red-haired leader let out a furious snarl, gathering an enormous sphere of flame overhead. The heat radiating from it sent a shimmer through the air. The two disarmed seniors scrambled aside, unwilling to be in the line of fire.
Claire landed on a second table, chest heaving.
"Claire! Move!" Rose's voice cracked, high and panicked.
Claire didn't move.
She turned her head slightly, catching Rose's terrified expression. And in that moment, a strange calm settled over her. She gave Rose a small, tight smile. Not the usual shy one — a sincere, steady one.
Then she faced forward again. Bow raised.
The fireball surged toward her.
Claire's fingers wrapped around a single arrow. The world around her dulled, noise fading into a muffled pulse. Tearful Embrace felt solid, familiar, like it had always been there. The arrow slid into place.
Her stance firmed. No trembling now.
Her voice, quiet but resolute:
"I'm not letting you hurt her."
She released.
The arrow shot through the air, a gleaming streak of pale light. It struck the heart of the fireball — and with a crackling detonation, the magic burst apart in midair, dissolving into harmless sparks.
A collective gasp rippled through the cafeteria.
Claire lowered her bow. Sweat clung to her brow, but her posture stayed firm.
She didn't smirk. She didn't gloat. She met the red-haired senior's glare with an unwavering stare.
"I said… that's enough."
For a beat, no one moved.
Then Rose let out a shaky, stunned breath.
"Holy crap…"
Claire exhaled, the tension in her limbs catching up all at once. She stepped down from the table, scooping up her arrows with a practiced, if slightly clumsy motion, returning them to her quiver as murmurs rippled through the watching students.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Kazuki, leaning against the far wall by the exit, casually sipping from a can of soda like none of this concerned him. The sight made Claire's stomach flip with embarrassment, and she quickly averted her gaze, heat rising to her cheeks.
The red-haired senior's grip tightened around her staff, face twisted in fury. She raised her arm to cast again — but then the sharp crackle of the PA system cut through the tension, followed by a cold, familiar voice.
"Attention freshmen," Ann's voice echoed from the speakers, sharp as a blade. "All students are to report to the academy battlegrounds within ten minutes. Any student failing to arrive by nine o'clock will be immediately expelled. No exceptions."
The room fell still. Even the red-haired senior stiffened, the glow at her staff's tip flickering out.
The two other seniors exchanged a glance, visibly uneasy. The naginata-wielding girl muttered under her breath, "Tch… we do not wanna deal with her."
"Hell no," the pigtail girl agreed, already lowering her stance.
The red-haired leader clicked her tongue, visibly swallowing her pride. She gave Claire a sharp glare, but it lacked the earlier venom.
"Consider yourself lucky, newbie," she growled, voice low and bitter. "This isn't over."
Claire stared back, still breathing hard, her fingers tightening around her bow. A flicker of anger lingered in her chest — she didn't like being threatened. Not when it came to Rose.
But the smart move was to let it go… for now.
She raised an eyebrow, her voice a little raw. "Yeah, I'll mark my calendar."
The red-haired senior scowled deeper but didn't reply. Turning on her heel, she stormed off, her two lackeys falling in behind her, both muttering complaints — though none daring to mention Ann's name aloud.
Claire exhaled hard and dropped her bow to her side. The adrenaline still buzzed in her ears, but now the weight of what just happened crashed down on her.
Rose darted up beside her, eyes wide. "Holy crap, Claire," she whispered, half awed, half horrified. "I knew you were good but — what the hell was that? Where did that come from?!"
Claire blinked, feeling her face flush as she rubbed the back of her neck. "I, uh… kinda blacked out there for a second…"
Rose gave a breathless laugh, though her grin faltered, a flicker of genuine worry crossing her face. "Seriously though… you okay? That was... a lot."
Claire gave a sheepish smile. "I mean… yeah. Mostly. Just… my legs are jelly now."
Rose snorted. "Dork." She gave Claire's arm a light tug. "C'mon, we gotta book it or Ann's gonna show up and murder us where we stand."
Claire perked up, her quirkiness snapping back to the surface as she grabbed her things. "Right! Yep — tactical retreat, very strategic, definitely not running in terror."
"You're such a mess," Rose grinned as they both bolted toward the exit.
As they passed Kazuki by the door, Claire dared a glance. He barely moved, only lifting his soda can in a lazy half-salute before looking away. Claire flushed again, nearly tripping over her own foot as she turned back.
"Smooth," Rose teased, elbowing her as they ran.
"Shut up," Claire muttered, but she was grinning too now.
The cafeteria behind them buzzed with whispers, students already gossiping about the girl who'd just faced down upperclassmen — and lived. Meanwhile, the red-haired senior and her group lurked in the shadows of the courtyard, teeth clenched and pride stinging.
"Tch… we'll deal with them later," one of them muttered.
The leader didn't even look at her followers. Her expression darkened as she stared off toward the battlegrounds.
"No one makes me look like a damn fool in front of the whole academy," she muttered coldly. "Not even some jumpy little bow-girl."
But even as she said it — the thought of Ann's furious voice still echoing in her ears — made her stomach knot.
And for now… she let it go.