Ten stood smiling, his eyes sparkling with curiosity and virtue, his voice carrying a surge of excitement:
"How about we have a fight… Kazuma versus Hiden?"
Kazuma's eyes ignited with enthusiasm, as if the spark he felt deep in his chest had spread wings, and he replied eagerly:
"I've felt a surge of energy… I've been waiting for this moment!"
Hiden, calm and composed, read the scene with piercing eyes, as if he could sense the wind before it touched the ground:
"Alright… but I will defeat you."
Kazuma smiled, half a challenge, half a silent philosophy in the darkness of his heart, and said:
"Maybe you will… but don't underestimate me."
Everyone stood watching—Rin and Ten observing the scene—while tension curled around the place like a shadowed cloud. Hiden stood to the left of the arena, a silent mountain watching the waves, and Kazuma to the right, pulsing with energy, like lightning awaiting the perfect strike.
Ten raised his voice, as if calling forth a legendary moment:
"Begin!"
Kazuma lifted his right foot slowly, then slammed it onto the ground, the echo bouncing through the arena as if the earth itself responded to the rhythm of his heart.
He surged forward, hovering a few centimeters above the ground like a bird testing gravity before diving into its depths. He clasped his hands together and raised them high, as if holding the wrath of the sky itself, shouting:
"Take this!"
Hiden, steadfast as an ancient rock, placed his right hand on the ground, energy rippling from his body like waves across a tranquil lake. He arched his body and thrust his feet with force, lifting his hand toward the sky, leaping gracefully as if dancing with the wind.
Kazuma's strike collided with air, missing its mark, while Hiden, in a moment of philosophical motion, bent his left leg and extended his right like a bow of light, descending at incredible speed toward Kazuma, aiming for his head as though the wind itself cut through his body.
Kazuma tilted his head to the sky, eyes wide as he saw Hiden approaching at a speed that made the ground melt beneath them, as if they were not mere fighters but philosophy made flesh, a clash of wills fluttering on the edge of time.
Kazuma pressed his right palm, closing his eyes in calm, dissipating the chaos around him. A profound silence enveloped the place, as if time itself paused to witness the birth of power. Around him, a transparent aura shimmered, gradually igniting in a fiery red that enveloped his palm, as if the hidden fire within him had erupted.
Ran exhaled in admiration, her voice blending surprise and excitement:
"Do you see, master? It has begun…"
Ten, standing behind him with pride, added confidently:
"He has begun demonstrating his first technique…"
Kazuma, frowning yet calm, whispered with a quiet threat:
"Fire Palm Strike."
He raised his blazing hand to the sky, and in a flash, his hand manifested from the flames, launching swiftly toward Hiden like a shard from a volcano itself, scorching the air with a hissing sound as it tore forward.
Hiden's eyes widened in shock, astonishment etched on his face, as the hand suddenly vanished, leaving a streak of light and heat in space, as if it had been nothing but a fleeting moment in a fiery dream.
Kazuma's eyes widened in sudden surprise as he leaped above Hiden like a predatory bird, body horizontal, left foot aimed at his opponent's face, the surrounding air rippling from the sheer speed and force of his movement.
Hiden, gritting his teeth, extended his left hand swiftly, shrouded in a Shin aura. A long, blue thread slithered like a serpent around a rock before being violently pulled, showcasing control and elemental mastery.
Kazuma received a harsh blow to the right side of his head. His eyes widened in shock, yet he did not fall. Suddenly, he was hurled backward, the air trembling from the collision, rocks scattering, heat rising, smoke filling the atmosphere, leaving an overwhelming sense of danger and suspense in every corner.
Each movement, each spark, each flicker of power, was more than a fight; it was philosophy incarnate, a testament to unbreakable will, and a moment where one becomes a force felt in consciousness before the body.
---
Kazuma's foot hit the ground abruptly, a slight dizziness sweeping over him, staggering his movement as he fell to his knees. A small scratch on his forehead bled warmly, glinting under the weak sunlight, while his heart throbbed with intensity, every cell reacting to the impact.
Hiden surged toward him with rapid steps, his face carrying a mix of shyness and worry, his soul torn between concern and the need to hide his tension. He reached him quickly, hand trembling slightly as it touched Kazuma's shoulder, then gently placed his left hand on his friend's back.
Hiden (softly, voice tinged with anxiety):
— Are you okay?
Kazuma closed his eyes for a moment, regaining balance, hands pressing on the ground, yet admiration showed in his expression:
Kazuma (tired but impressed):
— That was an amazing technique… when did you learn it?
At that moment, Ten and Rin appeared, moving lightly, their steps in harmony with the morning breeze, carrying both concern and admiration. Ten approached, smiling playfully, as if the weight of the moment eased with laughter:
Ten:
— When did you learn that move?
Hiden, holding Kazuma's palm gently, his shyness seeping through his words:
— Since I was eight years old…
Her words echoed in the air like ancient secrets spilling into every corner. Rin, eyes wide with slight amazement, asked:
— But during our training, you seemed exhausted…
Hiden smiled shyly, his hand trembling slightly:
— I was just pretending to be tired… to join you all… to feel the spirit of teamwork.
Ten chuckled, shaking his shoulders:
— You're a trickster, Hiden.
Kazuma slowly raised his head, eyes gleaming with admiration, voice low but curious:
— Can I learn that technique?
Hiden met his gaze deeply, eyes carrying years of experience and the philosophy of power:
— This technique suits the Ignitor class. I am a Shifter, able to transform Shin into elasticity.
He sighed slowly, as if the air itself weighed with the journey of experience:
— But it's not just strength… it requires precise tactics and full concentration to be truly effective.
The air carried the scent of the earth after rapid movement, and the autumn breeze touched their faces, footsteps hitting the ground, whispers of hearts, and heartbeats all converging in the moment, becoming more than a training or technique; it was a lesson in patience, focus, and the shared spirit between friends.
Sunlight gently streamed into the quiet streets, dancing on stone and weaving between their feet, as if observing life itself. Kazuma walked with heavy steps, hands on the back of his head, the weight of the world seeming to drip onto his shoulders. His hair swayed with the cold morning breeze, eyes catching the smallest details: floating dust, falling leaves, whispers of wind among rooftops.
Toji, eyes gleaming with innocence, stepped forward, voice trembling slightly:
— Have you trained in Shin?
He shrugged childishly, filled with honesty unaware of fear:
— No… I haven't trained.
Rin laughed, but it wasn't just laughter; it was the sound of power glowing inside her:
— I feel stronger since mastering it!
Hiden, with philosopher's composure, stood aside, voice a calm breeze filling the space:
— But don't forget… Shin can be a curse if not used wisely.
Hiden turned to Kazuma, eyes meeting in silent curiosity:
— Kazuma… what was that technique you used in our last fight?
Kazuma's body shivered slightly, heat radiating from his palms, as if the energy still danced inside:
— What do you mean?… but I felt my palms gathering energy… something… unusual.
Toji shivered with excitement, stepping forward, as if trying to touch the power he saw in Kazuma:
— I'll tell my master to teach me these abilities!
Kazuma smiled half-hidden, half-sarcastic, shaking his head:
— Mr. Harry won't teach you… he's far too reckless.
Toji laughed, the sound flowing with his racing heartbeat:
— I've never done anything dangerous in my life!
Rin blushed, a mix of shyness and irony, and Kazuma responded gravely:
— Yes, yes… just like what happened when we faced the Scorpion Gang.
Hiden shook his head curiously, slowly:
— What exactly happened? And who is the Scorpion Gang?
Rin took a deep breath, her words forming from inner energy, voice echoing like a distant reflection:
— The Scorpion Gang… is led by someone in the village named Mr. Tami. But thanks to him, we learned a lot about their schemes.
Kazuma sighed, his chest lifting the light touching his face, as if the sigh carried the weight of the past. He lifted his gaze forward, toward the medical clinic, sunlight breaking on Eylda's glasses, the air scented with antiseptic and a hint of dust.
Kiura appeared, eyes red from fatigue or pain, her right hand pressing against the wall as a silent mark of past struggles. Kazuma froze suddenly, body halted, awareness fully fixed on her, every movement resonating within him, every breath trembling through the space of his mind.
Hiden turned to Kazuma, neck tilted in surprise, voice breaking the silence:
— Why did you stop all of a sudden?
Kazuma shivered, a strange feeling mixing reality and memory, curiosity and fear, then replied in a distracted voice, words almost fading into the air:
— Nothing…
Kazuma resumed his steps, every movement reflecting exhaustion and tension, the wind brushing against his skin, sounds of the village blending with heartbeats, light and shadow flowing around him, as if the entire world walked with him between reality and imagination, between what is seen and what is felt.
Sunlight streamed gently through the alleys, dancing on smooth stones, slipping between the feet of passersby, as if observing the morning life quietly. Kazuma walked with uneasy steps, each step slowly on the pavement, hands pressed to the back of his head, the weight of the world settling on his spine. His face tense with worry, eyes glowing with an inner spark, warning of something approaching.
Kazuma (loud, voice fluctuating between rush and dread):
— I'm leaving… and I'll return… I have a mission that cannot be postponed.
His words echoed between the stone walls, some passersby halting, as if time itself froze to listen.
Rin, wide-eyed and lips trembling, raised her voice:
— Where to?
Kazuma did not turn, surging forward, feet propelling him as if the earth itself cracked beneath them, the passing wind playing with his hair, leaving traces of movement in the air.
— I'll return… don't worry, Rin!
Hiden, hand raised, almost grasping the unknown, asked hesitantly:
— I wonder… what's happening with him?
Toji, in his childish nature, chuckled lightly:
— Let's go, friends… let's see Kazuma!
The wide alley stretched before them, filled with shops and faces, the scent of fresh bread and spices filling the air, laughter of vendors mingling. There, Kazuma disappeared among the shifting shadows, his steps fast but cautious, as if every corner hid a secret.
He finally arrived in front of Kiura's house, the old wood resonating under the touch of time. He stopped, heart fluttering violently, fingers touching the door cautiously. He pressed his ear against the wood, hearing whispers from inside as if he could hear the echo of time itself.
Kiura, voice sorrowful and broken, said:
— I'm sorry, Father… but I have trouble with my vision.
Kazuma froze for a moment, eyes wide, as if the entire universe had narrowed into those words. Silence enveloped the place, the air heavy, scented with wood and longing.
Saruvi's voice, calm and warm, pierced the silence:
— Don't be sad, my dear…
Kiura raised her head lightly, eyes tired but sincere:
— I'm sorry, Mother… I'm exhausted, and I need to stay with myself.
Kazuma could not bear it any longer, knocking on the door with his hands. The wood creaked under his strikes, like the rhythm of his racing heart, each beat reflecting his fear and deep need to protect those he loved. The air around him trembled
gently from the movement of his hands, leaves on the window quivering, as if all of nature shared his feeling, making everything alive, charged with emotion, fear, and destiny.
Kira (in a steady voice, yet carrying a deep, questioning undertone):
"Answer me honestly, Kazuma… if the world teetered on the brink of collapse, and someone took the life of one of your comrades, what would you do?"
Kazuma slowly raised his eyebrows, as if the question itself placed him at a crossroads between emotion and logic:
"What would I do… what would I do?" He paused for a moment, then added, as if restraining the flow of his honesty:
"I won't answer you."
Kira approached with a weighty silence, his tone seeping into the space around them:
"And why? Isn't truth supposed to be absolute?"
Kazuma turned his gaze to the window, where the faint sunlight mirrored his turbulent thoughts:
"There's no barrier… but the truth is, the answer isn't simple… it depends on the nature of the person I care for."
Kazuma offered a calm smile, yet it was charged with hidden meaning, quivering at the edge of his lips:
"Is Kiura here?"
Kira, standing at the doorway, felt a trace of worry creeping into his mind, silently thinking: "Your teacher has created a monster that cannot be tamed…"
On the other side of the room, Kiura sat at her desk, located in the north corner.
Her wardrobe in the east, and her bed nearby, reflected a calm arrangement yet carried a sense of inner estrangement.
Her eyes caught the daylight streaming through the window, observing the world outside as if seeking meaning amidst life's chaos.
A soft knock at the door stirred the room, mingling with the thump of Kiura's heart, awakening a simultaneous sense of awe and sorrow.
Kiura lifted her head, her voice filled with longing and deep sadness, as if the words themselves weighed heavily on her
lips:
"Please… come in."
Kazuma watched as Kira slowly opened the door, letting the morning light creep into the living room, sending a warm beam across the cold wooden floor. A calm smile formed on Kira's face, carrying a warmth like a gentle spring breeze, as if saying: "Welcome back, you who have been gone so long."
Kira (smiling, his voice friendly):
"Hello, Kazuma. I haven't seen you in ages."
Kazuma hesitated, his words faltering somewhere between worry and respect. A faint sting pierced his chest as he replied:
Kazuma (with concern, voice slightly lowered):
"Hello, sir."
Kira welcomed him with a gentle hand gesture, like a bridge between the past and the present. Kazuma stepped inside tentatively, slowly removing his black shoes, feeling the cold floor beneath his feet—a refreshing sensation that carried the relief of finally arriving after a long journey.
They sat in the living room, the walls painted in soothing green, reminiscent of distant, peaceful forests. The scent of old wood mingled with the aroma of tea in the air, while sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting soft shadows over the round wooden table before them.
Kazuma (excitedly, eyes shining):
"I have good news!"
Kira's face showed anticipation as he stroked his chin lightly, as if the question itself hung in the air:
Kira:
"What is it?"
Kazuma smiled broadly, full of determination, as if a fire had ignited within him:
Kazuma (with energy and conviction):
"I've developed myself… and my powers!"
A surge of pride rose within Kira, though it was tinged with subtle tension, as if his soul sensed the gravity of those words.
Kira (voice slightly trembling, a mix of pride and anticipation):
"Well done… very well done, Kazuma. I'm so proud of you."
Kazuma sat upright, gently placing his hands on his thighs, feeling determination flow through him, readying himself for whatever lay ahead.
Kazuma:
"My confidence has grown. I'm now ready to match my brother."
Kira's curiosity piqued, his eyes gleaming with quiet interest before he asked:
Kira:
"You have a brother?"
Kazuma lifted his head, his eyes drifting into the depths of memory, carrying both the heat of loss and the spark of challenge.
Kazuma (clearly, with unwavering determination):
"Yes… I have an older brother, two years my senior."
A question formed on Kira's face, the silence echoing before he continued:
Kira:
"Where is he now?"
Kazuma raised his head slightly, his eyes scanning the walls as if searching for a trace unseen by anyone else. A chill ran down his back despite the sunlight streaming through the window.
Kazuma:
"I don't know…"
He smiled despite the hidden sadness, slowly turning his neck toward Kira, as if trying to hide the lingering disappointment clinging to his heart:
Kazuma:
"But I didn't train in Shin to merely match my brother… I train to uphold the justice I believe in."
Kira gave a strange smile, half confusion, half disappointment, then exhaled, as if the silence carried a weight heavier than words:
Kira (softly, yet clearly):
"Justice… so, Kazuma, it is justice that you seek…"
He paused, the sunlight flowing across his face as if time itself had stopped between the words, then continued:
"Well, what do you believe your justice to be?"
Kazuma clasped his hands together, his fingers trembling slightly, as if every nerve in his body pulsed with inner hesitation before he replied:
Kazuma:
"I don't know the exact path of justice yet, but I will find the answer."
Then he added gently, trying to ease his own inner tension:
Kazuma:
"Is it true that Kiura's eyesight is failing?"
Kira exhaled deeply, swallowing as if carrying the weight of a long-held sorrow:
Kira:
"Unfortunately…"
He asked again, his eyes deep in thought, searching for a deeper meaning behind the words:
"And who taught you Shin?"
Kazuma smiled faintly, filled with respect and gratitude:
Kazuma:
"My teacher… I consider him a father."
Kira nodded slowly, comprehending the depth of understanding the boy possessed, then asked with a voice heavy with philosophy:
Kira:
"How do you see humans?"
Kazuma lifted his head with confidence, his eyes staring into the horizon of life, as if seeking truth in every corner of the world:
Kazuma:
"I see good people and corrupt people. The corrupt are destined for death or punishment, while the good are destined for peace and happiness."
Kira exhaled slowly, his voice echoing through the living room, as if reflecting the truths of the world:
Kira:
"Won't the day come when your view changes?"
The words hung in the air, frozen, waiting for an answer that no one yet had, as the green light from the
walls flowed around them—a mix of hope and uncertainty, the realization that the road ahead was still long.
Kiura lowered her head, a shadow of worry etched across her features:
— I don't know why my companions don't like me.
Then, suddenly, she lifted her head, a bright smile forming on her lips, as if for a fleeting moment she could lift the weight of sorrow from her heart:
— Heh… how naive of me. Humans are like this by nature—they even fight with themselves. Love comes to them only with difficulty.
Kiura (her gaze fixed on Kazuma, carrying a mix of sorrow and longing):
"When my eyes fall on you… what do you feel?"
Kazuma (voice calm, as if weighing his words before speaking, his face turned toward her, eyes flickering with surprise and quiet curiosity):
"No… I don't feel any negative emotion."
Kiura (her voice a soft moan between her ribs, each word breaking a piece of the room's silence):
"But… when I look at you, I feel like I'm part of you… like I belong with you."
Kazuma (leaning slightly forward, pupils dilated, his hand trembling slightly from a strange curiosity):
"What do you mean by that?"
Kiura (lowering her head, her hair falling like a translucent curtain, as if trying to hide her depths):
"Nothing… forget what I said."
A heavy silence filled the room, dense as night, the air suffocating between them. Every movement, every whisper, every glance seemed to seep into the depths of the soul, making the reader live the moment as if they were right there.
Kazuma rose slowly from his seat, each movement weighted by her words, the echo of guilt reverberating through the corners of the room:
— I should go… it seems I bring you more sorrow than joy.
Kiura was taken aback by his desire to leave, embarrassment flickering across her face:
— Are you leaving so soon?
Kazuma answered, his voice low yet steady, as if measuring each passing moment:
— Do you want me to stay longer?
Kiura hesitated for a moment, then said shyly, a gentle warmth in her tone:
— I'm sorry… but if you're in a hurry, that's fine.
Kazuma raised his left hand instinctively, giving a silent thumbs-up 👍, a gesture carrying all the respect and affection he couldn't express in words.
As he stood by the door, he put on his shoes quietly, each step measured carefully so as not to disturb the fragile stillness of the moment.
Kiura whispered, her voice full of warmth:
— Take care of yourself.
Sarubi smiled quietly, her calm voice carrying a tone of hospitality:
— You're welcome anytime.
Kazuma rose, his hidden smile almost veiled by the cold edge of sorrow:
— Thank you for having me.
Then he moved toward the exit, while the air carried the echo of his words, the moment lingering with a sense of temporary departure, as if time itself had paused to witness th
e impression of his leaving deep in the senses.