The day after Principal Leonel announced the tournament's return, Lionel Academy felt strangely alive again.
Not loud.
Not chaotic.
But buzzing with the kind of restless energy only anxious hero students could generate.
The Hero Department's training yards were officially closed for full-contact sparring until the restart…
Which meant, naturally—
Every student just *happened* to gather there anyway.
◆ ◆ ◆
Raze Arcwell sat on a bench near the shade of a training pillar, quietly munching on an energy bar and pretending not to hear the chaos brewing behind him.
Roger flexed aggressively.
"Bro, I'm telling you—my uppercut is at least **20% faster** this week."
Bam scoffed.
"Your uppercut is so slow, a turtle using crutches could dodge it."
Roger gasped, offended.
"Did you just—?! A TURTLE!? WATCH ME—UPP—"
Raze didn't even look.
He simply extended his practice baton backward like a sword being drawn…
**thunk**
The baton blocked Roger's fist perfectly.
"Roger," Raze said calmly, still chewing.
"We're not getting expelled one day before the tournament resumes."
Roger froze, then collapsed onto the grass dramatically.
"My freedom! My training arc!"
Raze sighed.
◆ ◆ ◆
Nearby, Rain stood in quiet contrast to the chaos.
Soft water spheres hovered around her palms, spinning in delicate, fluid harmony.
A soft breeze rustled her hair.
Astra floated above the field, legs crossed mid-air as if she were lounging on an invisible sofa. She glanced down and sighed fondly.
"You all look… chaotic."
"We're training" Bam insisted proudly.
"No," Astra corrected, "you're arguing."
Roger raised a finger from the ground.
"It was tactical arguing…"
Raze stood up.
"Fine. Let's actually train.
Light drills only—nothing extreme."
Everyone cheered.
Raze instantly regretted it.
Because Astra landed beside him with a bright smile.
"Okay! Pair training! Raze and I are partners!"
Roger collapsed to his knees, screaming:
"NOOOOOOO—SHE STOLE HIM AGAAAAIN!"
And then—
A cold, calmly intimidating voice cut through the field:
"Training pairs are assigned by the supervising instructor.
Not by whoever shouts first."
Everyone turned.
*Luna Arcwell* stood at the edge of the yard—
arms crossed, clipboard in hand, wearing the black-and-white uniform of a Combat Assistant Instructor.
As part of the academy staff, she had authority over all first-year training sessions.
Her eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Astra," she said, "you're strong, but you don't get to claim my brother like a prize."
Astra turned pink.
"I—I just wanted proper training!"
"You want my brother."
"That's different!"
"It is not!"
Raze rubbed his forehead.
He was starting to think the actual tournament would be less exhausting than these two.
◆ ◆ ◆
Despite the dramatic start, the training session flowed peacefully.
Astra helped Raze refine footwork.
Rain practiced fine control with gentle focus.
Roger and Bam attempted drills and argued about who cheated more.
Luna supervised with her usual strict but reliable authority—correcting form, warning troublemakers, and occasionally smacking Roger with her clipboard.
The sun was warm.
The laughter was loud.
And the tension of the past few days finally eased.
For a moment—
The world felt normal again.
No Nightveil.
No fear.
No dread.
Just friends.
Just training.
Just a day before battle.
And Raze realized quietly:
Whatever storms were coming…
He wasn't facing them alone.
*************************
(Two days after the announcement)
"Raze. Help."
Luna's voice shot through the Arcwell kitchen like a distress signal from a sinking ship.
Raze entered cautiously—
only to witness pure culinary catastrophe.
Lily stood on a stool, aggressively tossing neon gummy bears into a pot of perfectly normal soup.
"It adds **flavor**!" she declared.
"It adds **diabetes**," Luna corrected sharply, snatching the gummy bag away.
Astra, who had been invited over because Lily demanded her presence, leaned forward to inspect the pot.
Her face immediately softened into a horrified smile.
"Um… maybe we should… remove those."
Lily gasped.
She clutched her heart like a betrayed anime protagonist.
"BIG SISTER ASTRA HAS ABANDONED MEEEE—!!"
Astra panicked.
"N–No! I'm not abandoning you! I just— I don't want to die!"
Before Lily could retaliate, Rose Arcwell entered with impeccable timing and eternal elegance.
"Children, please," she sighed. "Make something edible tonight."
"Children?" Raze muttered.
Rose gave him the slow mother stare of doom.
"You included."
"…Yes, ma'am."
◆ ◆ ◆
*The Attempt Begins*
And so, Operation 'Let's Not Burn Down the Kitchen' began.
Raze handled the rice.
Luna seasoned the chicken.
Astra took over stir-frying (with fear in her eyes).
Lily supervised everything like a tiny dictator.
"Raze, don't burn it!"
"I'm not burning—WAIT—"
Sizzle.
"Well. It's burnt."
Astra winced. "That was fast."
Luna dumped spices into the chicken like she was summoning a fire spirit.
"Luna—!"
"That's how Dad does it!"
"He also nearly killed a man with over-seasoned curry that one time," Raze reminded.
Astra, stirring the soup, pressed a little too hard.
*SNAP.*
The ladle's handle broke in half.
Astra froze.
Raze froze.
Lily cheered.
"You're so STRONG!"
Astra died inside.
Meanwhile, Lily finished "dessert"—
A bowl of marshmallows mixed with soy sauce.
Everyone stared at it.
It stared back.
◆ ◆ ◆
*Roland Arrives*
The front door opened.
Roland Arcwell walked in, loosened his tie, and stepped into the kitchen—
—and stopped.
Blinking.
Slowly.
He scanned the room:
Burnt rice.
Over-spiced chicken.
A broken ladle.
A marshmallow-soy sauce monstrosity.
Astra holding a pot like she committed a crime.
Lily smiling like a chaotic heavenly creature.
Raze and Luna looking exhausted.
Roland took a long, deliberate breath.
"…Kids," he said gently.
"Is this the aftermath of a villain attack?"
Raze groaned into his hands.
Astra covered her face.
Luna threw a towel at her father.
"Be useful or leave!"
Lily proudly shoved the dessert bowl into Roland's hands.
"It's dessert! Try it!!"
Roland stared into the abyss.
The abyss stared back.
"…I'll order pizza."
◆ ◆ ◆
*A Warm Disaster*
Within thirty minutes, the kitchen was filled with boxes of hot pizza, garlic bread, and soft drinks.
Everyone gathered around the dining table:
Lily devouring slices like a tiny beast.
Luna complaining about Raze's burnt rice.
Astra shyly eating her third slice while pretending she wasn't hungry.
Raze sighing but smiling quietly.
Rose sipping tea, pretending not to judge them.
Roland laughing at them all like they were the greatest show on earth.
The world outside was still dangerous.
Nightveil still lurked in the shadows.
The tournament still loomed ahead.
But tonight—
Just for these few hours—
The Arcwell home was warm.
Lively.
Noisy.
Chaotic.
Peaceful.
A place where heroes, prodigies, and future legends could simply…
act their age.
It was messy.
It was ridiculous.
It was perfect.
And with the sound of their laughter echoing through the halls—
Arcwell Cooking Night came to a beautifully disastrous end.
****************************
The next morning, Astra and Raze somehow ended up at the academy far earlier than necessary.
Not to train.
Not for extra preparations.
Just because neither of them could sit still at home.
Astra floated beside him as they walked through the still-waking streets of Nexara, drifting lazily a few inches above the ground like a glowing, golden balloon.
"You're tense," she commented.
Raze didn't look at her.
"I'm always tense."
"No," Astra said softly, tilting her head, "this is different. Tournament nerves?"
Raze exhaled.
"…Maybe."
Astra gave a small, warm smile.
"You'll do great. Even if your match ends up being against me."
Raze didn't answer—not because he disagreed, but because he wasn't sure how to.
Before he could find the words—
"LOOK! IT'S ASTRA NOIRE!!"
A swarm of children bolted toward them, followed by excited adults, followed by half-hidden reporters crouching behind lamp posts like paparazzi ninjas.
Astra froze.
"Oh no. Nonononono—"
People shouted:
"Penguin Savior!"
"Astra! Can we take a picture!?"
"Can you fly again!?"
"Can you lift that car over there!?"
Astra shrank behind Raze like a terrified cat.
"Raze. Help. They're everywhere."
Raze blinked at her.
"…Why are *you* hiding behind *me*?"
"You're tall! And stable! And… helpful!"
He sighed, stepped forward, and raised a hand.
"Please give her space. She appreciates your support, but she needs room."
The surprising part wasn't his tone.
It was how quickly everyone obeyed.
Adults stepped back.
Kids slowed down.
Even reporters lowered their cameras.
Astra peeked over his shoulder with wide eyes.
"Wow… Raze. You're surprisingly dependable."
Raze coughed lightly.
His ears had definitely turned red.
As the crowd dispersed, Astra floated forward again.
"Thank you," she whispered. "Being admired is nice, but… it's overwhelming sometimes."
"I know," Raze replied. "You don't have to face it alone."
Astra looked away quickly, cheeks warm.
"…Right."
◆ ◆ ◆
The two of them walked the rest of the way to the academy at a calm, unhurried pace.
They talked about nothing important:
Astra complaining about Luna's suspicious aura lately.
Raze teasing Astra for breaking a ladle yesterday.
Astra accusing him of burning rice "so badly the pot needed therapy."
Raze insisting it was only half-burned.
Astra insisting it was a war crime.
It was easy.
Natural.
Comfortable.
No villains.
No tension.
No pressure from the world expecting greatness from them.
Just two teenagers… being teenagers.
It felt rare.
It felt precious.
When they reached the academy gates, Astra stopped walking.
Her voice softened.
"I hope… after the tournament… we can still do things like this."
Raze glanced at her.
The morning sun framed her hair in warm gold.
"…Yeah," he said quietly.
"I'd like that."
Astra smiled — small, shy, but real.
Their shadows stretched long across the ground as they walked through the gates together.
Tomorrow, the battles would resume.
Tomorrow, the world would watch.
Tomorrow, one of them might stand across from the other.
But today…
Today was soft.
Warm.
Normal.
A tiny, peaceful pause before the storm.