Shiro shuffled along, his stomach growling like an angry beast. The upperclassman's polished boots clicked against the stone path as they approached the training grounds. Even his uniform looked expensive—the dark fabric crisp, the silver buttons gleaming under the sun.
The guy had that annoying noble look—perfect brown hair falling over one sharp golden eye, pale skin like he'd never worked a day in his life. He moved like a show-off too, every step calculated.
Shiro: Fast, not strong. Hm.
Ashford's eye twitched at the lazy comment.
Ashford: Say something.
Shiro: No. But why are we here?
Shiro's bored gaze drifted across the field. Four students lurked nearby—two girls whispering behind their hands, their eyes wide with excitement. Probably hoping to see someone get beaten up.
Shiro: If nothing's happening, I'm gonna leave.
He turned to walk away when Ashford's hand clamped down on his shoulder.
Ashford: What's the rush? Actually, I asked you here so I can have a mock battle with you. Get ready.
Shiro (no hesitation): Can't do. Bye then.
The moment Shiro turned his back, Ashford struck—his blade flashing in a deadly arc that should have connected. But Shiro somehow wasn't there anymore.
Ashford: I wasn't asking.
With a dramatic flourish, Ashford tossed the same ridiculously long katana Shiro had used against Lucien. It stuck in the ground between them, vibrating slightly.
Ashford: First, before starting a battle, we share our names. So, I'm Rowan Ashford, third-year student at Shikai Academy, and the second officer of the Primarch Assembly.
Shiro stared at the sword like it was the most annoying thing he'd ever seen.
Shiro: Ahhhhh, this is a pain in the ass. Do I really have to?
Ashford smirked, clearly enjoying himself.
Ashford: Go on, introduce yourself. Oh, and don't worry—even if you get critically hurt here, you can't die. You'll automatically heal by the time you leave the area.
With the world's most dramatic sigh, Shiro yanked the sword from the ground.
Shiro (not caring): Name: Shiro Asahina. Seventeen years old. First-year at Shikai Academy.
Ashford's grin widened as he took his stance.
Ashford: So let's fight. Give it all you've got. Don't hold back, just like last time.
Shiro: Whatever.
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Shiro dropped into his lazy stance—then suddenly hissed as his left arm started bleeding from nowhere.
Shiro (shocked): What the—?
Ashford twirled his sword, looking way too pleased with himself.
Ashford: Didn't I say before? You can go all out. Even if you go all out, you can't defeat me, of course.
Shiro's eye twitched. He muttered something under his breath—the same strange words from his fight with Lucien—then exploded forward in a blur.
Ashford just laughed.
Ashford: I've already seen that move. Use a different one. I know you've got more. Let's make this fight fun.
Shiro feinted left, then came up with a sharp upward slash—only for Ashford to casually strike his right shoulder, making that arm go limp.
Shiro who about to lose control himself not because that he took an attack by ashford. Because he told him it only take 5 minutes .
Holding his hunger any longer will be worst the dead to him. Shiro was a prime example to "all of the other time everything funny but when shiro got hungry nothing is funny."
Shiro stood tall, body angled slightly to the side, right arm hanging loose at his flank while the left hand holding his katana near his waist. His head was tilted up a little the guy who was right handed until a moment ago become left handed just for now.
Then those two quiet words:
Shiro: ******'s Blade.
Ashford: Why? Already over? Ah, maybe I overestimated yo—
Blood sprayed from Ashford's chest—but there was no wound. Shiro stood three steps away, his sword clean.
Ashford (touching his unharmed chest): What did you do?
Shiro (dead serious): Just like you said, I'm done holding back. I need this over quick. I've got my meat bun waiting for me, and you're not worth missing it for.
(He didn't say Ashford was weak. But when Shiro was this hungry, nothing else mattered.)
Ashford burst out laughing, clearly delighted.
Ashford: Is that so?
Then he got serious, raising his sword high.
Ashford: Art Style: Gravity! Third Form: Anchorfall!
The ground cracked as everything in a circle around Ashford got crushed downward—except Shiro, who'd noticed the faint line marking the area and stepped outside it.
Ashford didn't look surprised.
Ashford: Second Form: Skybind!
Shiro's feet left the ground. He floated helplessly in midair.
Ashford: I think you know what the third form of mine does, and that's why you ran from it. But I guess it's your first time seeing the Skybind form, haha! I think it's most people's first time. Not a lot of people know that I have a form like this. The second form is a levitating form that levitates anything I touch until I say so. Cool, right?
Shiro gave him the most disgusted look possible.
Shiro: Yeah. So I lost. Can I go now?
Ashford blinked, then laughed.
Ashford: Ah... oh... yeah, okay. See you later.
Shiro: No thanks.
Ashford: Oh, and take that katana with you. You don't have one, right? Think of it as a gift from us.
Shiro looked at the sword suspiciously.
Shiro: Okay, I guess.
(But wasn't this school property?)
As Shiro stomped off toward the cafeteria, someone stepped from the shadows.
???: Hmmm... Interesting.
Ashford: So, did you gain anything from that useless fight, Professor Veylor?
Professor Veylor: Yes. Thanks for your cooperation.
The professor watched Shiro disappear into the distance.
Professor Veylor: he did say something its not an Art... some kind of technique.
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