The last echoes of Professor Kareth's lesson on Art Styles faded, leaving the vast, artificial forest training ground in a state of hushed anticipation. The scent of ozone and freshly splintered wood hung in the cool, manufactured air. Students stood scattered across the grassy clearing, their katanas now sheathed and strapped to their backs or hips after the demonstration. Professor Kareth stood with her hands on her hips, her sharp eyes scanning the group.
Prof. Kareth: So any questions?
A moment of heavy silence passed before a student in the back, a boy with nervous eyes, tentatively raised his hand, the movement causing the hilt of his katana to shift against his shoulder.
Student: Well, about that tree trunk?
Prof. Kareth: Ahh, well about how that trunk keep getting respawn right?
Student: Yes.
A knowing smirk touched her lips as she gestured toward the now-pristine trunk. An Artificer called Cycle Weaver was use on that tree trunk. Well in short term what the Cycle Weaver do is, it can repeatedly make a copy of a thing or a object appear once its destroy.
And one at a time you can't make two or three copys the copy only appear after the last one destroy. And that will keep going till the Artificer itself get destroy. She paused, letting the information settle in the quiet forest air. So any questions other than that?
She waited a beat, met only by silent, thoughtful faces.
Prof. Kareth: Well then I take that as a no. So tomorrow we are going for practical fighting so don't skip that. Ok.
With a final, pointed look that swept across the students—lingering for a fraction of a second on Shiro—Professor Kareth dismissed the class. The clearing erupted into the soft rustle of movement and the gentle clinking of katanas in their sheaths as students began filtering out toward the impossibly large doors.
As the crowd thinned, Shiro fell into step beside Arien, the long, polished wood of his own katana a stark contrast against his back. The artificial sunlight caught the lacquer finish as he moved.
Shiro: Hey Arien?
Arien: Why? she asked, her hand automatically moving to adjust the strap of her own katana.
Shiro: Soo in yesterday morning did Sato tell you something?
The question hung between them like a physical weight. Arien's steps didn't falter, but she subtly turned her head away, her eyes deliberately focusing on the towering artificial trees around them.
Arien: No.
Arien avoided Shiro's gaze as she answered that, her fingers tightening slightly around her katana's strap. Shiro smiled, a slow, knowing expression that didn't reach his eyes.
Shiro: Ok than.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the dispersing class, a different conversation was unfolding in hushed, venomous tones. A small clique of girls huddled together near a cluster of glowing mushrooms, their eyes sharp with jealousy as they watched Shiro and Arien walk away. The one who spoke first flipped her silver hair over her shoulder, a dismissive gesture aimed at Arien's back.
Girl 1: That girl is still with him right?
Girl 2: She even follow him here too? another whispered, her voice dripping with disdain as she adjusted the elegant katana at her hip.
Girl 3: Righttt. Like who would do that? the third added, her gaze lingering on Shiro's retreating form with a possessive sigh.
Girl 1: Just wait tomorrow we make our move.
Girl 3: We gonna do it?
Girl 2: Well ya. Tomorrow right before this class start. That's the time.
Their plan set, they melted into the stream of armed students leaving the artificial forest, their colorful katanas swaying with each purposeful step.
Everyone left the classroom and as Arien and Shiro walked out of the domed building into the conventional academy corridors, the sudden transition from magical forest to stone archways felt jarring. The sound of their footsteps echoed alongside the soft tap of scabbards against the polished floor.
Shiro: Arien?
Arien: What now? she asked, her voice tighter than before.
Shiro: Did something happen to me?
Arien stopped walking completely, her boots scraping against the stone floor. But Shiro didn't stop; he just kept walking, the familiar shape of his katana visible over his shoulder. After a stunned second, Arien quickly chased up, her heart hammering against her ribs as she fell back into step beside him.
Arien: I don't think so.
Shiro: Hmmm
Shiro's expression didn't change at all after asking her question. His face remained the same placid mask. But in his mind, gears were turning, pieces clicking into a damning picture.
So even if I change my behaviour and both of them act like nothing happened. A small, cold smile crossed his face but Arien didn't see it. That's interesting.
Sometime before the class ended in the Artificer class, Doctor Pendragon was peeking into Sato's table, his large frame casting a shadow over the delicate tools. The workshop smelled of oil and molten metal, a stark contrast to the fresh forest scent of the practical arena.
Dr. Pendragon: Isn't that girl didn't come today?
Sato: Oh doctor. Well she say she go to practical class
Dr. Pendragon: Ohhh that sad. To lose students you know.
Sato didn't answer. He just smiled it off, his eyes distant. And nothing happened after that.
In the boys dorm room 23, moonlight filtered through the window, casting silver stripes across Shiro's sleeping form. His katana rested against the wall near the door, the wood grain visible in the pale light. Earlier, he had been sitting on his bed, tapping lightly all around his head, then around his ear a little while.
Shiro: They suspect me if it like this. Then...
He tightened his fist, knuckles turning white in the moonlight.
Shiro: I forget thing by force
Without hesitation, he launched his own fist at his own head. The punch connected with a sickening thud, instantly knocking him out on the spot.
When Sato entered the room later, Shiro was already asleep. He wasn't wearing his sheets or using any pillow - just sprawled out as if he'd fallen onto the bed, one arm dangling over the side. Sato didn't suspect a thing, merely shaking his head at what appeared to be another of Shiro's odd sleeping habits.
With this violent act, Shiro took a step forward in his investigation, using his own mind and body as the test subject, the katana standing silent vigil beside his unconscious form.