Sunlight poured through the classroom windows, striping the rows of desks with ribbons of gold. Chalk scraped rhythmically against the blackboard as the teacher's lively voice filled the room like a storyteller at the peak of a tale.
"…and that's how the famous legend of Princess Kaguya was born," he declared, turning toward the class. "Also known as The Moon Princess. They say that after giving humanity one final letter, she returned to her true home in the sky."
He set the chalk down, crossed his arms, and smirked.
"But some people believe that's just the romantic version. Some historians say Kaguya never went back… that she stayed here, hidden, leaving behind a legacy."
A pause. His voice dropped slightly, just enough to make the silence feel heavy.
"So, what do you think? Legend… or forgotten truth?"
A few students laughed. Some just shrugged.
But Kaido… Kaido wasn't listening.
His attention was locked on the glowing screen of his phone. The messages stared back at him — unanswered, unread.
Kaido: "Are you sick?"
Kaido: "If you're sick, at least tell me."
Kaido: "Sleeping until noon again?"
Kaido: "If you don't answer, I'm going over."
No reply. No "seen." Not even a flicker of activity.
A quiet sigh escaped him, half relief, half frustration.
(Two days without showing up? Even when she broke her arm, she didn't skip that much.)
"Kaido," the teacher's voice cut through the hum of the classroom, one brow raised. "Are you taking notes or writing me poetry?"
A ripple of laughter. Kaido straightened in his seat, forcing a crooked grin.
"Ah—sorry, professor. I was just… processing the beauty of your explanation."
More laughter. The teacher smirked.
"Good. Then process it in the restroom if you have to."
Kaido tilted his head, playing along.
"Will do. I'll return enlightened."
His backpack was on his shoulder before anyone could blink. He slipped through the door with quiet footsteps and an even quieter smile.
"'Restroom,' huh?" he muttered, turning down the hallway. "Smooth, Kaido. Real smooth."
. . .
The familiar streets of Nakamura opened before him like the backdrop of a routine he'd memorized by heart. Small corner shops with faded awnings, the distant rattle of a train rolling by, the warm breeze brushing against his hair. His steps were light, impatient.
When he turned down a quieter street, the pace slowed.
There it was.
A traditional Japanese house, standing still in the sunlight, its wooden frame soaked in the scent of old summers. Against the wall, a battered blue bicycle leaned lazily, the little cat-shaped bell catching the light.
His chest loosened with a quiet exhale. Of course it was still there.
Kaido climbed the two wooden steps up to the entrance, raised his hand—
—and froze.
Thwack. Bam. Shhff.
The sound came from beyond the gate. Sharp. Focused. Rhythmic.
He followed the noise, slipping through a slightly open wooden door. A polished metal plaque hung there, simple and proud:
Kazama Traditional Martial Arts School.
Leaning against the frame, he crossed his arms, lips curving faintly.
"Of course… where else would you be?"
. . .
Inside the dojo, the air was alive.
She moved like someone who didn't need an audience to be fierce — sharp kicks and precise punches hitting the training dummy with the force of something bottled up for far too long.
Thwack. "Should've been there…" Bam. "Coward…" Shhff. "Attacking from behind…"
Kaido didn't interrupt. He watched in silence, noticing the way her shoulders tensed with every blow, the frustration buried beneath the control of her movements. Familiar. Intimately familiar.
"Careful," he finally said, voice half teasing, half soft. "Keep that up and that dummy won't make it to lunch."
The strikes stopped. Silence spread like a ripple.
Then—
"What are you doing just standing there?" her voice snapped, firm and impatient. "Gonna keep staring, or are you volunteering to get punched?"
Kaido let out a low chuckle, stepping onto the wooden floor.
"Oh, so now this is my fault?" he teased. "Guess I'll have to knock some sense into that thick head of yours."
"You know," he added, his tone turning casual in that way only someone close could, "someone didn't show up for class. Didn't answer my messages. Since yesterday."
"Tch…" She forced a small laugh that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I didn't even notice the time. I just needed to train."
Her breathing was steady, but the weight in her voice was impossible to miss.
"If I'd been stronger before… things would be different."
Kaido stepped a little closer, his voice softer.
"Hey… this isn't on you."
She turned away, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat off her face.
"Stay out of it, Kaido."
"Yeah… no. When it's you, everything's my business."
She crossed her arms with a small frown.
"Baka (idiot)… no one asked you to butt in."
He shrugged with an easy grin.
"True. But if you expected me to stay quiet, then you don't know me as well as you think. And judging by the state of that dummy…" he nodded toward the dented training equipment "…maybe someone needs a sparring partner."
She huffed, cheeks faintly flushed from the heat — or something else.
"Baka."
"Ah, there it is," Kaido laughed. "Now it feels like home."
. . .
A crow cried somewhere outside, sharp and distant. Kaido dropped his backpack onto a bench and held out a bottle of water.
"Here. Drink. Or you're gonna collapse on the tatami."
She hesitated, then accepted it with a small nod.
"Thanks… but don't get used to it."
"'Don't get used to it,'" he repeated, mocking her softly.
She shot him a sideways glance, and the smallest smile slipped through before she caught herself. He noticed but said nothing, leaning against the wall, content just to watch.
Then came the smirk.
"Standing still all day? Or do you need me to show you a thing or two?"
She arched an eyebrow and let out a low, amused chuckle. A faint flush bloomed on her cheeks, betraying the cool front she tried to keep.
"Hah… listen to you," she shot back, voice laced with challenge. "Talking like you can keep up with me."
She took two light steps backward, her feet sliding into a ready stance. Her eyes gleamed with that fiery spark Kaido knew all too well.
"Wanna test it, Kaido? Let's see how long you last."
Kaido stepped onto the tatami, the grin on his face stretching wider.
"Ten seconds," he said, his tone cocky. "That's all I'll need to put you down."
She placed one hand on her hip, tilting her head with playful arrogance.
"Ten? Hah… you won't even last five."
They took their stances. The air between them grew electric — that strange mix of familiarity and rivalry that only existed between them.
Kaido lunged first. She blocked with ease, sidestepped, her smile sharp.
"I'm not going easy on you."
Her counterpunch landed clean against his chest. Kaido stumbled back with theatrical agony.
"Assault on a model student! I'll file a complaint."
She laughed, shaking her head, and that laugh was his opening. He darted forward with a flurry of kicks, faster than usual. She blinked in surprise, barely dodging the last one.
"Oh?" she muttered, a hint of excitement in her voice. "Someone got faster."
In a fluid spin, she caught his ankle midair and swept him off balance. The tatami met his back with a loud thud, and before he could blink, she was on top of him, pinning him with ease.
"Five seconds," she teased. "I could've ended this in three."
She pushed off him lightly, adjusting her uniform with that small, proud smile she always wore after winning.
"And I even went easy on you."
Kaido groaned, then laughed, sitting up and rubbing the back of his neck.
"You should take it easy too. No skipping class." He grinned. "Or I'll drag you there myself."
She crossed her arms, looking away, cheeks faintly pink.
"Hmpf. As if I need a walking alarm clock."
She stretched, turning her back to him as if that would hide the flush on her face. Sunlight fell through the broken windowpanes, framing her silhouette in gold.
"But…" she murmured, fiddling with the strap of her glove, "if you do show up… I won't complain."
Kaido smirked quietly. He didn't answer. He didn't need to.
"Ja ne (see you), baka," she said, tossing the towel over her shoulder. "And get ready… tomorrow after class, I'm dragging you here, and it'll be way worse."
Kaido laughed as he stood, shaking his head.
"I don't mind. Watching those legs in action is a show on its own."
She froze mid-step, nearly tripping over the towel. Her face turned crimson from her ears down. She spun toward him, eyes wide.
"HAA?!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the empty dojo. "Baka Kaido!"
The towel flew across the room and smacked him in the face. She turned away quickly, arms crossed, cheeks burning.
"How can you say something like that so… so bluntly?!"
She stomped on the tatami, still fuming, but the storm in her voice was more flustered than furious. Underneath it all, a tiny smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
Kaido threw his hands behind his head, laughing.
"Hey, it's true. Everyone fears those kicks… and your headscissors even more."
She froze again, turned bright red, and charged at him with a quick kick to the leg.
"Bakamono! Baka! Anta baka ka?! (Idiot! Fool! Are you stupid?!) Get out!"
She spun away, hiding her face. Kaido just grinned, quietly satisfied at having cracked the wall she built around herself.
He slung his bag over his shoulder and waved lazily.
"See you tomorrow, Asuka."
The name lingered in the air like something warm.
Outside, the late-morning light wrapped the street in soft brightness. The distant sound of traffic blended with birdsong, and a gentle breeze lifted his hair.
He tilted his head back, eyes tracing the pale moon faint in the blue sky.
A shiver ran down his spine, unexpected but familiar. His hand moved to the small pendant around his neck, fingers curling around it as if it could anchor him. He stood there for a heartbeat longer than usual.
"…just the sun," he murmured. "Or maybe I'm just hungry."
He walked off, whistling lightly.
Behind the wooden gate, Asuka peeked through the dojo window, her cheeks still pink, arms crossed.
"Baka…" she whispered, this time soft, almost fond.