Illumina stepped into the guild hall together, the weight of the past few days still clinging to them like dust they couldn’t quite shake off. At the front desk, a clerk slid a small bundle across the counter. Four metal keys clinked softly as they landed, heavy and real in Shunjiro’s palm. Alongside them sat a rectangular bronze plate, polished just enough to catch the light. Guild Illumina, cleanly engraved, simple, unmistakable. Shunjiro stared at it for a moment longer than necessary. “…That’s us,” he murmured. Tetsuo leaned over his shoulder. “Dang. Seeing it written out makes it feel official.” Itsuki smiled softly, hands clasped around her staff. “We… really have a place now.” “About time,” Tetsuo said casually, already grabbing one of the keys and spinning it around her finger. “Let’s go see if it’s actually livable.” Ryuji grinned. “Hey, even if it’s a dump, it’s your dump.” They followed the hallway down into the residential wing, footsteps echoing against stone until Shunjiro stopped in front of a plain wooden door. He slid the key in, turned it and pushed it open. The room beyond was wide and open, sunlight pouring in through tall windows and painting the wooden floor in warm gold. It wasn’t fancy, but it was clean. To one side sat a modest kitchen, stove, counter, shelves waiting to be filled. Beyond that, a small bathroom tucked neatly away. At the center of the space stood a sturdy table, large enough to seat all of them comfortably. “Dining room and planning table,” Yoshinori noted, already mentally claiming it. “Multipurpose,” Shunjiro said with a nod. Two doors led off from the main room. Bedrooms. They peeked inside. Each room held two beds, neatly made, simple but solid. Sunlight spilled across the blankets, dust motes drifting lazily through the air. Tetsuo let out a low whistle. “Oh yeah. This’ll do.” Since Aiko and Ryuji had shown zero signs of leaving and had, in fact, followed them in like this was always the plan. Shunjiro scratched the back of his head. “…You two can stay here too,” he said. “At least until you figure out where you’re headed next.” Aiko blinked once. Then grinned. “Wow. Look at that, Ryuji. We’re being adopted.” Ryuji laughed. “I accept. No paperwork required.” They regrouped in the main room. Ryuji glanced toward the bedrooms. “Alright, serious question. How’re we splitting rooms?” Shunjiro chuckled. “Easy. Aiko and Itsuki get one room. The rest of us take the other.” Itsuki’s eyes widened slightly. “O-oh.” Aiko slung an arm around her shoulders instantly. “Roommates it is.” Before anyone else could react, Tetsuo sprinted forward and launched himself onto one of the beds like it had personally called for him. “Dibs!” he announced, sprawled out dramatically. The mattress groaned in surrender. Yoshinori sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Well. I’m definitely not sharing a bed with Shunjiro or Tetsuo.” Shunjiro raised a brow. “Wow. Hurtful.” “That leaves Ryuji,” Yoshinori continued flatly. “I suppose.” Ryuji blinked. “…I don’t know whether to be offended or honored.” Tetsuo smirked from the bed. “Oh, come on, Ryuji. You were probably hoping to share with Itsuki or Aiko anyway.” Ryuji’s face went instantly red. “W-what?! No! That’s not what I meant!” “Sure it wasn’t, you perv,” Tetsuo shot back. “I am not!” Aiko snorted. Itsuki tried to hide her smile behind her sleeve. Shunjiro shook his head, laughter bubbling out before he could stop it. While the others continued bickering, he stepped back into the hall. The bronze plate was still in his hand. He lined it up beside the door. Guild Illumina. With a firm press, he secured it in place. The metal caught the light. Shunjiro took a step back and looked at it. After everything this door, this place, was theirs. He exhaled slowly. “…Yeah,” he said quietly, more to himself than anyone else. “This works.” Behind him, laughter echoed through the room. This was their home now. From farther down the hall, measured footsteps echoed softly against the stone. Shunjiro turned just as a man came into view, tall, composed, dressed in crisp formal attire trimmed with the gold-and-white insignia of Radiance. Unlike the bustle of the guild hall, he moved with quiet purpose, eyes sharp and searching. They locked onto Shunjiro. “You are Shunjiro Tenzai?” the man asked. Shunjiro straightened instinctively. “Yeah. That’s me.” The man inclined his head just slightly. “I am a royal messenger.” His gaze shifted past Shunjiro, scanning the open doorway behind him. “I am here to summon Itsuki Nozomi for an audience with His Majesty, the King.” The words hit like a dropped plate. “A-what?” Shunjiro blurted before he could stop himself. He spun back toward the room. “Itsuki!” She looked up immediately, mid-step, confusion flickering across her ocean-blue eyes. “Y-yes?” Shunjiro gestured toward the man, still visibly stunned. “He says you’ve been summoned. By the King.” The color drained from Itsuki’s face. “The… King?” she repeated softly. She turned back to the messenger, hands tightening around her staff. “M-may I ask why?” The man nodded once, professional and calm. “It concerns your actions during the entrance examinations. Specifically, your healing of the plague-stricken village.” Itsuki froze. Her breath caught as memories surged back, fevered villagers, trembling hands, the way she had poured everything she had into saving lives she didn’t even know. “I-I didn’t do anything special,” she said quickly, almost apologetically. “That is not the assessment of the court,” the messenger replied evenly. A heavy silence settled. Itsuki glanced back at the others. Tetsuo stared at her like she’d just been told she was royalty. Yoshinori’s eyes narrowed. Aiko crossed her arms, whistling under her breath. Shunjiro took a step toward her. “You don’t have to go alone,” he said immediately. Itsuki shook her head, forcing a small, nervous smile. “I’ll be okay,” she said more to reassure them than herself. “I’ll… I’ll be back later.” She turned to the messenger and nodded. “I’m ready.” As she walked away beside him, her steps hesitant but determined, Shunjiro watched until they disappeared around the corner of the hall. Something about the summons unsettled him. Itsuki followed the messenger in silence as they approached the heart of Radiance. The throne room. The wide double doors parted with a deep, resonant creak, revealing a vast chamber bathed in soft gold light. At the far end, elevated upon a broad dais, sat King Shadis, his presence calm yet immense, like a mountain that had watched centuries pass. To one side of the chamber stood two women. Itsuki’s breath caught. One of them she recognized immediately. Yumi Kurosawa. She stood with relaxed posture, hands folded in front of her, black hair falling neatly down her back. Her pink eyes softened the moment they met Itsuki’s, a gentle warmth shining through them. Beside her stood a woman Itsuki had never seen before. She had dark red hair, cascading in smooth waves over her shoulders, and deep red eyes that lingered just a moment too long when they settled on Itsuki. Round glasses rested low on her nose, giving her a scholarly appearance, one that didn’t quite mask the confident, almost predatory smile curving her lips. Itsuki stepped forward and bowed deeply, heart pounding in her chest. “Y-Your Majesty,” she said softly. King Shadis raised a hand. “There is no need to bow so deeply, child,” he said in a steady, measured voice. “Please. Raise your head.” Itsuki obeyed, lifting her gaze. “Take a seat,” the king continued, gesturing toward a chair placed before the dais. She did so carefully, folding her hands in her lap, shoulders tense. Yumi smiled and waved awkwardly. “I-it’s g-good to see you again, Itsuki,” she said, stumbling slightly over the words but smiling all the same. “I-I’m glad you could come.” Itsuki’s nerves eased just a little. “It’s good to see you too,” she replied quietly. The red-haired woman chuckled softly, adjusting her glasses with one finger. “Oh my,” she purred. “She’s even more adorable in person.” Itsuki stiffened. The woman stepped forward with graceful confidence. “Mariah,” she said smoothly. “Main healer and lead researcher of the Kingdom of Radiance.” Her red eyes sparkled with interest. “A pleasure to finally meet you, Itsuki Nozomi.” Itsuki nodded quickly. “Th-the pleasure is mine.” Yumi cleared her throat. “I-I share the title of main healer,” she explained, glancing at Mariah, “b-but I’m still an a-adventurer. I travel often. Mariah, on the other hand, stays within the kingdom.” Mariah smiled knowingly. “Someone has to keep the foundations steady while others roam the world.” King Shadis leaned back slightly. “I will leave the discussion to them,” he said calmly. “Speak freely.” With that, the two healers turned their full attention to Itsuki. Mariah wasted no time. “Your healing during the entrance examinations,” she said, voice smooth and low, “was unprecedented.” Itsuki blinked. “I-I only did what I could.” Mariah’s smile widened. “You cured a plague.” The words landed heavily.  “I’ve studied healing arts for decades,” Mariah continued. “Diseases, curses, spiritual decay, you name it. I have never seen someone purge a plague so completely.” Itsuki’s fingers curled into her sleeves. “I… I just focused on helping the villagers.” Yumi nodded vigorously. “E-even without th-that,” she added, “y-your standard healing is already r-remarkable. Your control, your speed, the way your energy responds… it’s far beyond your rank.” Mariah folded her arms, eyes gleaming. “If you were to hone your spiritual energy further,” she said, “if you reached SSS-rank…” She leaned in slightly. “You could become the greatest healer in history.” Itsuki’s breath hitched. The room felt too big. Too quiet. Mariah straightened. “Which brings us to our question.” Yumi swallowed, then spoke carefully. “Itsuki… w-would you like to become the next main healer of the Kingdom of Radiance?” The words echoed in Itsuki’s ears. Main healer. The ability to help thousands. To save lives every day. To bring hope to entire regions. Her heart ached at the thought. But then- She saw Shunjiro’s tired smile. The way Illumina laughed together in their small dorm. The warmth of finally belonging somewhere. Itsuki lowered her gaze, hands trembling slightly. “I…” she began, then paused, forcing herself to breathe. “I would love to help as many people as possible,” she said honestly. “Truly. And I’ll always answer Radiance’s call if you need me.” She lifted her head, eyes shining but steady. “But I found something important,” she continued softly. “A place where I belong. A family. Illumina is my home.” Her voice wavered just slightly. “I don’t want to lose that.” Silence followed. Then Yumi smiled. A warm, proud smile. “I think,” she said gently, “that’s a beautiful answer.” Mariah studied Itsuki for a long moment. Then she laughed, light, genuine. “How refreshing,” she said. “Power without ambition to cage it.” She inclined her head. “Very well, Itsuki Nozomi. Walk your path. Just know…” her eyes gleamed, “…the doors of Radiance will always be open to you.” King Shadis nodded solemnly. “You have our respect,” he said. “And our blessing.” Itsuki bowed once more, this time with confidence. “Thank you,” she said. “For everything.” As she turned to leave, her heart still raced, but it was lighter now. She hadn’t lost herself. She had chosen who she was. The moment she stepped out of the throne room, the weight on her chest hadn’t quite lifted yet. The massive doors closed behind her with a muted thud. She took two steps and froze. Standing just down the hall was Illumina. All of them. Shunjiro straightened the moment he saw her, relief flashing across his face so fast he didn’t even try to hide it. Tetsuo was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, pretending not to worry. Yoshinori stood a little apart, observant as always. Aiko lounged casually, hands behind her head. Ryuji waved like this was a perfectly normal place to be waiting. Itsuki blinked. Once. Twice. “…You guys?” she said. Shunjiro scratched the back of his head, suddenly looking awkward. “Uh yeah. We figured we’d wait.” Itsuki tilted her head. “You didn’t have to…” “I know,” Shunjiro said quickly. “I just-” He paused, then exhaled. “I was worried about you.” Her chest tightened. For a moment, she didn’t trust herself to speak. Then she smiled. A soft, genuine smile that warmed her eyes. Yeah, she thought quietly. This is it. This was where she belonged. Aiko smirked. “So? Did they crown you ‘Saint of Radiance’ or something?” Ryuji leaned in. “Please tell me there’s a dramatic story. I’ve been waiting.” Tetsuo grinned. “If the king tried to steal you, I was fully prepared to fight him.” “Please don’t,” Yoshinori muttered. Itsuki laughed and shook her head. “No crowns. No fights. Just… a lot of talking.” They fell into step together as they headed down the corridor, the tension easing with every footstep away from the throne room. “I’ll tell you everything,” Itsuki said, hugging her staff lightly. “But first…” She glanced at Shunjiro. “…Can we get food?” Tetsuo perked up instantly. “Now that is the most important detail you’ve said all day.” As they made their way out into the streets of Radiance, sunlight spilling over stone and banners fluttering in the breeze, Itsuki began to talk. About Yumi. About Mariah. About the offer. She told them how they’d said her healing could surpass even theirs. How they wanted her to become Radiance’s next main healer. Aiko whistled low. “That’s… huge.” Ryuji blinked. “Wait, main healer? Like… top of the top?” Yoshinori’s gaze sharpened. “And you turned it down.” Itsuki nodded. “I told them I’d help Radiance whenever they needed me.” She glanced at each of them in turn. “But I chose Illumina first.” Shunjiro stopped walking. She noticed immediately. “Shunjiro?” He shook his head once, then smiled, quiet, relieved, and proud all at once. “…I’m glad,” he said. Something warm bloomed in Itsuki’s chest. They kept walking, the sounds of the city growing louder around them, vendors calling out, laughter drifting through the air, the promise of food just ahead. The next morning arrived wrapped in warmth and noise. Radiance was already alive, banners unfurled across the streets, lanterns strung between buildings, the distant sound of drums and laughter drifting through open windows. The Radiance Festival had begun. Inside Illumina’s dorm, chaos reigned. Shunjiro stood in the middle of the room holding up a folded robe, staring at it like it might attack him. “…Is this supposed to go over or under?” he asked. Tetsuo squinted. “Pretty sure it goes on you.” “That does not help,” Shunjiro shot back. Across the room, Yoshinori, Ryuji, Sora Ayanami, Lars Tanabe, and Ryota Masuda had claimed every available surface with clothing options, traditional robes, sashes, half-worn sandals, and accessories scattered everywhere. “I’m telling you,” Sora said confidently, arms crossed, “traditional is the way to go. Festivals demand respect.” Ryota nodded. “Plus, modern gear feels wrong with all the lanterns and music.” Ryuji rolled his shoulders, holding up a dark robe. “Yeah, but I don’t wanna look like I’m about to attend a funeral.” Lars laughed. “That’s just your personality, man.” Tetsuo had already tied a sash around his waist incorrectly and flexed. “What do you think? Festive enough?” Yoshinori glanced over. “…You look like a heavily armed gift basket.” Tetsuo grinned. “Perfect.” Shunjiro finally managed to drape his robe correctly and looked down at himself. Dark fabric, simple lines, understated. He nodded once. This feels right. Meanwhile, in a quieter room filled with sunlight and fabric, a very different scene unfolded. Itsuki stood in front of a mirror, fingers nervously twisting together as Aiko and Yuki Kyosei sifted through racks of kimonos. “Okay,” Aiko said, holding up a vibrant purple one. “This one is obviously mine.” Yuki giggled, pulling out a white-and-blue kimono. “Then I’m taking this! It matches my eyes.” Itsuki smiled faintly, but her gaze lingered on a soft pink kimono, embroidered with delicate floral patterns. “It’s pretty,” Yuki said. “Why don’t you try it?” Itsuki hesitated. “…I want to look my best for-” She stopped. Her heart skipped. A name almost slipped out. Aiko’s eyes immediately lit up. “For who?” Yuki leaned in, delighted. “Yeah! Whooo?” Itsuki’s face burned. “N-no one!” she said quickly. “Just… myself.” Aiko narrowed her eyes. “Suspicious.” Yuki clasped her hands dramatically. “I, personally, am dressing up for all the handsome men who’ll be at the festival.” Aiko smirked. “I’m dressing up for one man.” Itsuki blinked. “Oh?” Aiko shrugged, casual but not convincing. “If Yoshinori happens to notice and compliment me, I won’t stop him.” Yuki gasped. “You like him!” Aiko snapped her head around. “I never said that!” Itsuki laughed softly, tension easing. She stepped behind the screen and changed. When she emerged, the room went quiet. The pink kimono fit her perfectly, soft fabric flowing gently as she moved. A single flower rested in her dark hair, petals pale against the black waves. Yuki stared. “Itsuki…” Aiko whistled low. “Wow.” Itsuki touched the sleeve, shy. “Is it… too much?” “No,” Yuki said firmly. “It’s perfect.” Aiko slipped into her purple kimono, the color deep and striking against her violet eyes, confidence radiating off her like heat. Yuki followed, her white-and-blue kimono light and elegant, matching her bright smile. The three of them stood together in the mirror. Different colors. Different energies. But all glowing. Itsuki looked at her reflection one last time. Her heart fluttered. I hope… he notices, she thought then shook her head, smiling to herself. The doors of the guild hall opened, and the men of Illumina and the Mars Guild stepped out together into the sunlight. For once, there were no sharp words or posturing, just the low hum of excitement that came with lanterns, music, and a day meant for celebration. Rivalry still lingered beneath the surface, but today it was dulled, wrapped in tradition and good food. Shunjiro adjusted the collar of his dark, traditional robes as he walked beside Yoshinori and Tetsuo. Ryuji rolled his shoulders like he was gearing up for battle, except today’s enemy was fun. Sora walked with easy confidence, white hair catching the light, black eyes scanning the streets ahead. Lars laughed loudly at something Ryota said, the contrast of Lars’s spiky black hair and red eyes against Ryota’s bright orange hair and eyes making them impossible to miss. “Alright,” Ryuji said, grinning. “Festival mode activated.” They rounded the corner and stopped. The girls were waiting just ahead. Lantern light drifted down from above, catching silk and color and soft movement. Ryuji froze first. “…Wow.” Itsuki stood slightly apart, hands folded nervously in front of her. The pink kimono flowed gently around her, delicate flowers embroidered along the fabric. A single bloom rested in her black hair, and her ocean-blue eyes reflected the lanterns like calm water. Aiko leaned casually against a post beside her, purple kimono sharp and striking, perfectly matched to her hair and eyes. Confidence rolled off her in waves. Yuki Kyosei stood between them, bright and elegant in white and blue, smiling easily, already soaking in the festival atmosphere. Ryuji recovered quickly, pointing between them. “Okay, that’s not fair. All three of you look incredible.” Aiko smirked. “Obviously.” Yuki beamed. “Thank you!” Itsuki bowed her head slightly. “Th-thank you…” Shunjiro hadn’t said anything yet. Itsuki noticed. Her heart skipped. She took a small step forward, then another, stopping in front of him. Her hands twisted together, nerves creeping back in. “U-um…” she said softly. “A-are you ready for the festival?” Shunjiro blinked. Up close, she was No. Don’t stare. Inside his head, his thoughts tripped over themselves. She’s beautiful. Since when did she look like that? No-she always did. I just- “Y-yeah,” he said, voice steadier than his thoughts. “I am.” Itsuki smiled, relieved, but still hopeful. He watched her turn slightly, the way the lantern light brushed her kimono, and before he could stop himself- “You look really nice,” Shunjiro said. Itsuki froze. Slowly, she looked back up at him. Her face turned pinker than her kimono. “…R-really?” she asked. Shunjiro nodded, embarrassed now. “Yeah. Really.” Her smile was small, but radiant. Nearby, Aiko slid effortlessly into Yoshinori’s personal space, looping an arm through his. “Well?” she asked, tilting her head. “Any comments?” Yoshinori adjusted his glasses, eyes forward. “Your attire is… appropriate for the festival.” Aiko squinted. “That’s it?” He glanced sideways. “It suits you.” She grinned like she’d just won a battle. On the other side, Lars glanced down at Yuki. “Hey. You look good.” Yuki raised an eyebrow. “That sounded painful.” He shrugged. “Yeah, whatever. You’d be mad if I didn’t say anything.” She laughed, bumping her shoulder into his. “You know me too well.” Ryota shook his head. “You two are impossible.” With laughter, teasing, and the glow of lanterns guiding them forward, the group finally began to move, two rival guilds, one shared moment. Drums thumped somewhere deeper in the streets. The smell of grilled meat and sweet pastries curled through the air, instantly grabbing Tetsuo’s attention. “Okay,” he said, cracking his knuckles. “Food first-” A loud clang cut him off. Down the row of stalls, a crowd had gathered around a small platform where a bell hung high above a wooden frame. Beneath it sat a rack of short wooden mallets and a sign painted in bold strokes: Ring the bell – No Spiritual energy allowed. A grizzled stall owner barked, “Pure skill only! Strength helps, but control wins!” Aiko’s eyes lit up. “Oh, this looks fun.” Ryuji grinned. “I’m in.” Naturally, Yoshinori stepped forward first. Yoshinori studied the setup silently. The bell. The lever. The weight distribution. “…It’s about momentum, not power,” he muttered. He took the mallet, adjusted his grip once, and swung, clean and precise. The bell rang sharp and clear. The stall owner blinked. “Already?” Yoshinori handed the mallet back calmly. “Predictable.” Aiko stared. “Wow. Riveting. You really know how to make winning boring.” “My turn” Tetsuo grabbed the mallet like it had personally challenged him. “Remember,” the stall owner warned, “no overdoing it-” Too late. Tetsuo roared and slammed the lever with everything he had. The mechanism snapped downward, the mallet bouncing back violently. The bell didn’t move an inch. The crowd winced. “…Oops,” Tetsuo said. The stall owner sighed. “You broke the limiter.” Shunjiro patted his shoulder. “You can’t punch everything, man.” Ryuji stepped up next, rolling his shoulders. “Alright. Let’s not embarrass ourselves.” He swung with smooth athletic control. The bell rang loud and proud. Ryuji pumped a fist. “Yes!” Aiko smirked. “Congratulations, you didn’t break it.” Lars cracked his neck, red eyes glinting with confidence. “My turn.” He swung hard, but not reckless. Another clean hit. Yuki clapped. “Nice!” Lars shrugged. “Obviously.” Ryota stepped up nervously. “Okay… okay… I got this…” He swung. The lever barely budged. The bell stayed silent. “…I did not got this,” Ryota muttered. Yuki laughed and slung an arm around him. “It’s okay. You’re still cute when you lose.” Aiko took the mallet, twirling it once. “Watch and learn.” She swung fast, too fast. The strike glanced off-center. The bell wobbled… and stopped. “…Rude,” Aiko said flatly. Yoshinori smirked. “Your angle was off.” She shot him a look. “No one asked.” Yuki stepped up next, smiling brightly. She took a breath, focused, and swung with surprising precision. The bell rang. Yuki beamed. “Yes!” Lars clicked his tongue. “Show-off.” Itsuki hesitated, holding the mallet like it might explode. “I-I’m not very good at these…” “You’ll be fine,” Shunjiro said gently. She nodded, took a breath, and swung, careful and controlled. The bell rang, softer but clear. Itsuki gasped. “I-I did it!” Aiko grinned. “Look at you!” Shunjiro smiled without realizing it. That left two. Shunjiro stepped forward. Before he could take the mallet, Sora Ayanami moved beside him, white hair catching the lantern light. “Well?” Sora said coolly. “Going to lose gracefully, or do you want a lesson first?” Shunjiro’s jaw tightened. “You always have something to prove, don’t you?” Sora smirked. “Only when you’re around.” The crowd leaned in. “Ladies and gentlemen,” the stall owner said eagerly, “looks like we’ve got a rivalry!” Sora went first. He took the mallet, posture relaxed, eyes sharp. His swing was clean, efficient. The bell rang loud. Sora stepped aside. “Your turn.” Shunjiro picked up the mallet. The noise faded. The music felt distant. He breathed in. Don’t rush. Don’t force it. He swung. The bell rang but not as high. Not as long. The sound faded quicker. Silence. The stall owner squinted. “Winner: white hair.” Sora’s smirk widened. “Looks like I win again.” Shunjiro exhaled slowly, frustrated but not crushed. “…Fine,” he said. “This time.” Sora leaned in just enough for only him to hear. “Get stronger. I’ll be waiting.” Ryuji clapped loudly, breaking the tension. “Alright! That was intense!” Aiko laughed. “Someone’s ego definitely survived.” The stall owner handed out small prizes, charms, sweets, and cheap trinkets. The group regrouped, laughing, teasing, arguing over who should have won. The smell of fried food and sweet glaze followed Shunjiro as he ducked away from the group and head buzzing from the festival noise. “Bathroom,” he muttered to no one in particular. The public restrooms sat just off a lantern-lit side street, stone walls, open-air roof, running water echoing softly inside. Compared to the chaos outside, it was almost peaceful. Almost. Shunjiro stepped up to a urinal. A man stood at the one beside him. At first glance, he looked ordinary enough, dark hair pulled back loosely, festival clothes worn a little too casually, posture relaxed in a way that suggested he didn’t worry much about anything. But something about him felt… off. Not threatening. Just wrong in a way Shunjiro couldn’t place. Shunjiro glanced again without meaning to. The man noticed immediately. “…You know,” he said, not even looking over, “there’s kind of an unspoken code that men aren’t supposed to make eye contact in the bathroom, right?” Shunjiro stiffened. “S-sorry!” He quickly looked away and focused on the wall in front of him, heat creeping up his neck. A few seconds passed. Shunjiro risked another glance. The man had finished and stepped back, stretching his arms. He turned his head slightly. “What are you, some kind of homo?” Shunjiro nearly choked. “N-no!” he blurted, finishing quickly and stepping back as well. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to stare. I just-” The man snorted. “Relax, kid. I’m messing with you.” They moved to the sinks side by side. Water splashed softly as they washed their hands. The man glanced over at him in the reflection. “Still,” he continued, tone casual, “you gotta get that staring problem under control. Scares people. Especially ladies. Assuming you’re even into them.” “I am!” Shunjiro said quickly, then winced at how loud that came out. “I mean… yes. I’m into girls. Not that there’s anything wrong with… uh…” The man laughed, a deep, easy laugh that echoed off the stone. “Alright, alright,” he said. “You’re fine.” He turned off the water and without warning slung an arm around Shunjiro’s shoulders. Shunjiro stiffened instinctively. Up close, the man smelled strongly of alcohol. Not sloppy-drunk, but definitely well into the festival spirit. “I like you,” the man said cheerfully. “You’ve got an honest face. I think I’ll take you under my wing tonight.” Shunjiro blinked. “U-under your…?” “Wing,” the man repeated, nodding like this made perfect sense. “Just go with it.” Unsure what else to do, Shunjiro did exactly that. “…I’m Shunjiro Tenzai,” he said after a moment. The man’s brow lifted slightly. Just for a fraction of a second. Then he smiled wider. “Shunjiro, huh?” he said. “I’ll call you Jiro.” Before Shunjiro could ask his name, the man leaned in conspiratorially. “So, Jiro,” he said, voice dropping. “What kind of girl’s your type?” Shunjiro hesitated. Then answered honestly. “…Quiet. Reserved. But strong.” The man burst out laughing. “Wow,” he said between chuckles. “That’s adorable.” Shunjiro’s ears burned. “I-it’s not supposed to be-” The man waved him off. “Relax. Means you’ve already got someone in mind.” Shunjiro opened his mouth to deny it then paused. “…I don’t know,” he admitted. “There is… a girl I like being around.” The man’s smile softened, just a little. “That’s how it starts,” he said knowingly. He gave Shunjiro’s shoulder a friendly squeeze and began guiding him back toward the exit. “Come on, Jiro,” he said. “Festival’s still young.” As they stepped back into the lantern-lit street, sound and color crashed over them all at once, music swelling, laughter spilling from every direction, lanterns swaying like fireflies caught in the air. The man kept talking, easy and unbothered, guiding Shunjiro through the flow of the crowd as if he’d done this a thousand times before. Shunjiro nodded along, half listening. Inside his head, something nagged at him. It’s strange… Ever since he was a child, Shunjiro had noticed it. With every person he met, every adventurer, villager, knight, there was always something. A presence. A weight. A warmth. A pulse. Spiritual energy. Some people felt faint, barely there. Others burned bright. But it was always present. Except- He glanced sideways at the man beside him. Nothing. No pressure. No hum. No flicker. When Shunjiro had walked into the bathroom, he’d genuinely thought he was alone. He hadn’t sensed anyone else inside at all. That shouldn’t be possible. Zero spiritual energy wasn’t just rare. It was unheard of. Shunjiro frowned slightly, then shook his head. I’m overthinking it, he told himself. He’s probably just weird. And besides…If this guy somehow knew how to juggle confidence, charm, and festival energy like this, maybe he could actually help. “So,” Shunjiro said, forcing himself to focus as they walked beneath the lanterns, “uh… how do you even talk to girls without making it awkward?” The man laughed, a low, rolling sound. “Kid, it’s always awkward.” Shunjiro blinked. “It is?” “Of course it is,” the man said. “Anyone who tells you otherwise is lying or trying to sell you something.” He waved a hand vaguely, nearly smacking a passing banner. “The trick is you stop treating awkwardness like a crime.” Shunjiro frowned, thinking. “But what if you say the wrong thing?” “You will,” the man replied instantly. Shunjiro winced. “That’s… not reassuring.” The man chuckled. “Listen. You think confidence is about saying the perfect thing. It’s not. It’s about surviving the wrong thing and not falling apart afterward.” Shunjiro mulled that over. “So… just don’t care?” “Not quite.” The man glanced sideways at him. “Care less about how you look. Care more about why you’re there.” Shunjiro hesitated. “What if you actually… like her?” The man slowed just a fraction. “Ah,” he said softly. “That’s the dangerous kind.” Shunjiro’s ears warmed. “I didn’t say I did.” The man smirked. “You didn’t have to.” They walked a few steps in silence, lantern light sliding over the man’s face in strange, shifting ways. “So what do you do?” Shunjiro asked. “When you like someone?” The man shrugged. “I show up. I listen. I don’t pretend to be someone else.” He glanced at Shunjiro again. “And I don’t stare at them like they’re a puzzle I need to solve.” “…I don’t do that,” Shunjiro muttered. The man snorted. “You absolutely do.” Shunjiro sighed. “I just don’t want to mess things up.” “That’s the problem,” the man said easily. “You’re already treating the ending like it’s a cliff.” He stopped walking for a moment, forcing Shunjiro to stop too. “Kid,” he said, voice quieter now, “if you’re worried about losing something before you even reach for it, you’ll never touch anything real.” Shunjiro swallowed. “…So what should I do?” The man smiled, wide and unapologetic. “Tell her she looks nice,” he said. “Mean it. Then shut up.” Shunjiro blinked. “That’s it?” “That’s it,” the man said. “If she smiles, you’re alive. If she doesn’t, you’re still alive.” He clapped a hand on Shunjiro’s shoulder. “Either way, the world keeps turning.” Shunjiro let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “…You make it sound simple.” “It is,” the man replied. “It’s just not easy.” They started walking again, the festival noise swelling around them. Shunjiro nodded slowly, committing the words to memory, even if he didn’t fully understand them yet. Somewhere deep down, he suspected this advice mattered. Even if the man giving it felt like he shouldn’t exist at all. After a moment, the man stretched his arms over his head. “Well. Looks like it’s about time I head back to my ladies.” Shunjiro blinked. “Ladies?” The man only grinned. He turned smoothly and walked toward a small group nearby. Four women stood together beneath the lantern glow, each striking in her own way, laughing easily, clearly waiting for someone. The moment they spotted him, their faces lit up. “There you are!” one of them said, grabbing his arm. “Thought you ditched us,” another teased. Shunjiro stared. The man laughed heartily, already surrounded, completely at ease. He glanced back once and gave Shunjiro a wink. Shunjiro exhaled slowly. “…Okay,” he muttered. “Maybe he does know what he’s talking about.” Still bewildered, he turned and headed back toward the food stalls where the rest of the group waited. Aiko noticed him first. “Wow,” she said, hands on her hips. “Did you fall into a different festival?” Itsuki looked relieved the moment she saw him. “You were gone for a while…” Tetsuo smirked. “Bathroom breaks take that long?” Shunjiro scratched the back of his neck. “Uh… yeah. I kind of got caught up talking to some drunk guy.” Yoshinori raised an eyebrow. “That explains nothing.” Shunjiro shrugged. “Trust me, it explained less while it was happening.” They laughed, the moment passing easily. But as Shunjiro glanced back once more into the crowd, the man was gone. No trace. No presence. And no spiritual energy. For reasons he couldn’t explain, Shunjiro felt a chill creep up his spine. Who were you… really? The festival music swelled again, and the question faded into the noise.