Note: The past timeline - Three years before Ryoto and team rescues Aem and friends. ❤️ - represented by this symbol

The present timeline - Ryoto and team rescues Aem and friends. 🟥 - represented by this symbol

The future timeline - one year after Ryoto and team had rescued Aem and friends. ♦️ - represented by this symbol

[location: Kamakura city.
Time: 7:00 am.
Dated 3rd June. ❤️]

In the picturesque coastal city of Kamakura, nestled along the shores of Sagami Bay in southern Kanagawa Prefecture, life unfolded each day with the vibrant energy of summer. The sun cast its warm embrace upon the bustling streets, where children darted through narrow alleys, laughter echoing in their wake. Women bustled through open-air markets, their vibrant kimono fabrics catching the sunlight as they haggled over the day's freshest catches. Meanwhile, men hurried through the streets, their footsteps a steady rhythm against the backdrop of lively chatter and the distant sound of crashing waves.

Amidst this lively scene, a man in uniform cut a striking figure as he strolled purposefully through the market. His attire, a polished silver robe complemented by a crisp blue shirt, exuded an air of authority befitting his role. A sleek black hakama draped over his trousers, and a sword nestled snugly in its scabbard completed his ensemble, marking him unmistakably as a figure of law enforcement in these ancient streets.

As he made his rounds, his keen gaze caught sight of a young boy and girl engaged in a playful exchange. The boy's mischievous grin was met with the girl's gentle laughter, their youthful energy infusing the air with an innocence that was both heartwarming and contagious.

"Hello, children. What's going on here?" the man inquired with a warm yet authoritative tone, his presence commanding attention amidst the youthful exuberance.

The young boy, momentarily caught off guard, stumbled over his words before managing to respond, "I am sorry, sir." With a sheepish smile, he took the girl's hand, and together they retreated to the edge of the bustling market, their bond evident in the easy familiarity that marked their interactions.

The man observed their departure with a knowing smirk, recognizing the unmistakable signs of childhood friendship that transcended mere words.

A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts, drawing his attention to a figure approaching from the crowd. "Yo," Konosa greeted casually, his easy demeanor contrasting with the formality of the officer's presence.

"Hello to you too, Konosa. Where have you been these days?" the officer inquired, acknowledging the familiarity between them.

"I stay a bit busy, don't I? Well, this one here is my new friend, and the name's Remeshi," Konosa replied, gesturing towards the shy figure standing beside him.

"Ah, nice to meet you, Remeshi," the officer extended his hand in greeting, his warm smile putting the younger boy at ease despite his initial tension.

As the officer moved on to resume his duties, Remeshi couldn't help but voice his curiosity. "Why do you know a cop so well?" he whispered to Konosa, his eyes betraying a hint of apprehension.

Konosa, ever the picture of nonchalance, merely shrugged in response, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, I keep messing around, so..." he trailed off cryptically.

In the tranquil depths of the ocean, amidst the majestic coral reefs and shimmering schools of fish, lay the Water Kingdom, ruled by the benevolent King Genza Haine. High above in the ethereal expanse of the skies, where clouds danced and winds whispered secrets, soared the Floating Kingdom, governed by the graceful Queen Asaki Haine. And between these two realms, tethered by blood and destiny, resided Prince Konosa and his sister, Princess Ishoya.

Konosa, a prince with the blood of waves coursing through his veins, possessed a rare and powerful gift-the ability to harness both water and wind energies. His very existence bridged the realms of sea and sky, a living embodiment of harmony and balance. Ishoya, his sister, shared her mother's affinity for wind energy, a trait that bound her to the heavens above.

Their upbringing was a tapestry woven with the threads of tradition and duty. King Genza, bound to the depths of his kingdom, governed with wisdom and strength, while Queen Asaki, ever graceful and compassionate, ruled her floating domain with grace and resilience. Despite their love for each other, the demands of their realms kept them apart, each fulfilling their sacred responsibilities to their people.

But within the gilded halls of their respective palaces, a void lingered-a longing for unity and familial closeness that transcended the boundaries of land and sea. Konosa often wondered why his mother could not reside with them, sharing in the joys and sorrows of their daily lives. His inquiries were met with solemn explanations of duty and obligation, of the weighty burdens that monarchs must bear for the greater good.

Seven years ago, on a night shrouded in darkness and uncertainty, the fragile harmony of their world was shattered. A cataclysmic event, veiled in mystery and tragedy, tore through the fabric of their lives, leaving devastation in its wake.

In the aftermath of that fateful night, Konosa and Ishoya made a choice that would alter the course of their destinies forever. Faced with loss and upheaval, they fled their homes under the cover of darkness, seeking refuge and answers beyond the confines of their kingdoms.

[Location: underwater kingdom.
C

astle of the water king.

Status: royal.
Time: seven years ago from past timeline, exact time not noted.
Date: not noted. ❤️]

In the heart of the vast Water Kingdom, where the azure waves danced under the sun's gentle caress, lay the territory ruled by King Genza. Seven years ago, a dark cloud loomed over the kingdom as ominous tidings of an impending attack echoed through the corridors of power.

Within the royal chambers, King Genza, a stalwart figure with eyes that held the weight of the ocean's depths, listened intently to commander Greg, his advisors' urgent pleas. "Your highness, we have no other option. We must mobilize the military. The enemy's forces are poised to strike," Greg implored, the urgency palpable in his voice.

King Genza, a man of resolute determination, nodded solemnly. "I am aware. Gather the forces. We shall meet the enemy at midnight," he commanded, his voice unwavering despite the gravity of the situation.

As the kingdom braced itself for the impending conflict, within the royal palace, a scene of familial warmth unfolded. Konosa, the young prince, his eyes shimmering like precious rubies, looked to his elder sister Ishoya with admiration. "Wow! The protectors of our kingdom are so cool. Do you think I could be like them, Ishoya? With the cool sword and that uniform?" he asked eagerly, his youthful enthusiasm shining through.

Ishoya, her smile radiant like the morning sun, gently tousled her brother's hair. "If that is your wish, dear brother," she replied affectionately, her heart swelling with pride at his innocence.

As night descended upon the kingdom, a tempest of a different kind brewed on the horizon. The air crackled with tension as the wail of sirens pierced the stillness, their mournful cry signaling the arrival of the enemy's forces.

Konosa, nestled within the safety of his chambers, couldn't help but wonder at the late hour of the alarm. "Sirens? At this hour?" he pondered aloud, his brow furrowing in confusion.

His father, clad in the armor of a seasoned warrior, entered the room with purpose etched upon his weathered features. "In times of war, trouble seldom knocks before entering," he explained, his voice tinged with a mixture of concern and determination. "Stay here, my young prince. The battlefield is no place for you," he cautioned, his hand resting reassuringly on Konosa's shoulder. "Be brave," he urged before departing to join the fray.

Alone in his chambers, Konosa couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gripped his heart. "Daddy is being overly protective," he mused, a hint of frustration coloring his thoughts.

Outside the palace walls, the waters churned with an ominous fervor, their once tranquil surface transformed into a maelstrom of chaos and uncertainty. Citizens hurriedly secured their homes, laying traps in a desperate bid for survival as the specter of war loomed large on the horizon.

Konosa stood frozen at the window, his heart pounding in his chest like a drumbeat of impending doom. "Mommy. I hope you are alright. Ishoya. Please be alright," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the rising cacophony of battle outside. With trembling hands, he reached out to undo the blinds, exposing himself to the harsh reality that lay beyond.

The scene that greeted him was a nightmare come to life. His father, King Genza, lay sprawled upon the blood-soaked earth, a once mighty figure now reduced to a mere shell of his former self. With each labored breath, the king's chest heaved, his hands clawing desperately at the ground in a futile attempt to reach his sword. Blood seeped from countless wounds, staining his once pristine armor with the mark of his suffering.

A gut-wrenching ache gripped Konosa's heart, the weight of his father's plight bearing down upon him like a crushing wave. Tears welled in his eyes as he watched in horror, unable to tear his gaze away from the gruesome spectacle before him. "Daddy," he cried out, his voice breaking with anguish as he struggled to comprehend the senseless violence that surrounded them.

Driven by a surge of adrenaline-fueled desperation, Konosa hurled himself down the staircase, his footsteps echoing like thunder in the stillness of the night. With a trembling hand, he flung open the massive doors of the palace, the metallic clang of their impact reverberating through the air.

Ignoring the danger that lurked beyond the safety of the palace walls, Konosa vaulted over the towering gates, his eyes fixed unwaveringly on his father's prone form. King Genza's gaze met his own, a silent plea passing between them as unspoken words hung heavy in the air. "Go, son. Run," his father mouthed, the words barely audible over the din of battle.

As Konosa sprinted towards his father, the enemy's attention turned towards him, their twisted grins betraying their sadistic delight at the sight of the king's vulnerable heir. "Look! The king's son is here. Our luck is shining today," one of them jeered, the sound of their laughter a discordant symphony of malice.

"Why... why would you do this? What did we ever do to you?" Konosa's voice trembled with raw emotion, his tears mingling with the surrounding sea as he confronted his father's assailants. But his words fell upon deaf ears, drowned out by the mocking laughter that echoed through the waves.

In that moment, a primal rage surged within Konosa, burning like wildfire in his veins. With clenched fists and eyes ablaze with fury, he vowed vengeance upon those who dared to threaten his family. "I am not going to let any of you make it out alive," he declared, his voice carrying a chilling certainty that sent shivers down the spines of his enemies.

But despite his brave words, Konosa's heart quailed within him as he watched his father struggle to rise, his body battered and broken beyond recognition. With every ounce of strength he could muster, the king fought against the relentless tide of darkness that threatened to consume him, his fingers grasping desperately for the sword that lay just out of reach. But alas, it was a futile effort, his body too ravaged by the horrors of war to heed his commands.

With a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins, Konosa's trembling hands closed around the hilt of his father's sword, his grip firm and resolute. Without a moment's hesitation, he lunged forward, the blade slicing through the air with deadly precision as it found its mark in the flesh of his unsuspecting adversary. "Come at me, you pathetic humans," he muttered.

The enemy recoiled in shock, their ranks thrown into disarray by the suddenness of Konosa's attack. The man fell to the ground, clutching his chest in agony, his lifeblood staining the earth beneath him. In the face of this unexpected resistance, the remaining foes drew their weapons, their eyes blazing with fury as they prepared to retaliate.

But Konosa was undeterred, his movements swift and fluid as he danced amidst the chaos, his sword a blur of steel as it cut through the air with lethal efficiency. In a matter of seconds, three more of the enemy lay wounded at his feet, their cries of pain echoing through the night like a haunting melody.

As the enemy closed in around him, their numbers dwindling but their resolve undiminished, Konosa felt a storm of emotions brewing within him. "It must have hurt... my father is suffering... you think this is enough to atone for it...?" he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice laced with a mixture of anger and sorrow.

And then, as if in response to his inner turmoil, a tempest of unprecedented fury erupted around him, the winds howling and the waves crashing against the shore with an intensity that sent shivers down the spines of all who bore witness to it. The enemy stumbled backwards, their faces twisted in fear as Konosa's rage manifested itself in a spectacle of elemental power.

But even as the storm raged around him, Konosa remained steadfast, his gaze fixed upon his foes with an unwavering determination. "My father... is not defeated... he is very brave... and our kingdom is not defeated either... because I'm still here..." he whispered, his voice barely audible above the fury of the elements.

With renewed resolve, Konosa charged forward once more, his sword flashing in the moonlight as it cleaved through the ranks of his adversaries with deadly precision. But despite his valiant efforts, the enemy's numbers seemed endless, their determination unyielding in the face of his onslaught.

As the battle raged on, Konosa's strength began to wane, his limbs heavy with exhaustion as he fought to keep the tide of enemies at bay. But just when it seemed that all hope was lost, a voice rang out from amidst the chaos, the voice of one of the men from the enemy troop filled with both awe and disbelief.

"Is he really just eight? This is insane."

With their morale shattered and their ranks decimated, the enemy troops made a hasty retreat, their commander ordering a full withdrawal in the face of Konosa's unstoppable fury. As their ships sailed away into the night, leaving behind a trail of death and destruction in their wake, Konosa stood alone amidst the wreckage, his chest heaving with exertion as he surveyed the battlefield before him.

Despite the searing pain that radiated through his body, Commander Greg's mind was consumed by a single thought: the image of Konosa adorned in the military uniform, a symbol of strength and valor that belied his tender years. Even in the midst of battle, the commander couldn't help but marvel at the young prince's courage and resilience, a testament to the indomitable spirit of the Water Kingdom.

"Son... you shouldn't have come here," King Genza whispered hoarsely, his voice strained with the effort of speaking.

"You shouldn't move or talk, Your Majesty. There has been a lot of blood loss already," the commander interjected, his own wounds forgotten in the face of his king's suffering. With trembling hands, he reached out to steady the king, his own injuries a testament to the brutality of the conflict that had engulfed them.

Konosa's gaze flickered between his father and the commander, his heart heavy with concern for both of them. The sight of his father's trembling hands sent a shiver down his spine, a stark reminder of the fragility of life in the face of war's indiscriminate cruelty.

Around them, the crowd murmured anxiously, their eyes darting between the wounded king and the battered commander. The enemy's sudden retreat had caught them all off guard, a testament to the havoc wreaked by Konosa's courageous stand against overwhelming odds.

"Get the doctor," Konosa's voice was soft but firm, his hand raised in a gesture of command.

Without hesitation, four of their men sprang into action, racing towards the central hospital of the kingdom in search of the king's personal physician. Moments later, the doctor arrived, his expression grave as he surveyed the extent of the king's injuries.

"There's a lot of damage. Please, get the king to my room," the doctor urged, his voice tinged with urgency as he prepared to accompany them back to the palace.

With gentle hands, the men carefully lifted King Genza onto a stretcher, his pallor ashen as he was whisked away towards the waiting vehicle. Konosa watched silently, his heart heavy with fear for his father's life, yet buoyed by a flicker of hope that perhaps, with the doctor's expertise, the king might yet survive the ordeal that had befallen him.

The morning sun cast its golden rays upon the Water Kingdom, illuminating its once vibrant streets with a muted glow. Ishoya and her mother made their way through the somber atmosphere, their hearts heavy with worry for their beloved family.

Spotting her brother in the distance, Ishoya's eyes lit up with relief, and she hurried towards him, her arms outstretched in anticipation of the warm embrace they had shared so many times before. "Konosa," she called out, her voice tinged with both excitement and concern.

But to her dismay, Konosa remained motionless, his gaze fixed upon the ground as if lost in a world of his own making. He neither moved nor acknowledged her presence, his eyes dull and lifeless, a stark contrast to the vibrant spirit she remembered of him.

Their mother's sigh echoed through the air, a poignant reminder of the pain that gripped their family in the wake of the recent tragedy. "Where's your father?" she asked softly, her voice tinged with sorrow.

"Hospital," Konosa replied tersely, his words devoid of emotion as he turned away, retreating into the darkness of his own despair.

With heavy hearts, Ishoya and her mother quietly escorted Konosa back home, their steps weighed down by the burden of grief that hung heavy in the air. The palace, once a bastion of strength and unity, now stood as a silent witness to the devastation that had befallen their kingdom.

Days turned into weeks, and still, Konosa remained locked away in his room, his spirit broken and his heart heavy with sorrow. His once vibrant demeanor had been replaced by a haunting silence, his presence a shadow of its former self.

The people of the palace, unable to reach him through his walls of grief, could only watch from a distance, their hearts heavy with the weight of their own helplessness. Each day, they would silently place a tray of food next to him, their voices falling upon deaf ears as they offered their support in the only way they knew how.

Meanwhile, Ishoya and her mother made a solemn pilgrimage to the central hospital each day, their hearts heavy with worry for the king's uncertain fate. As they stood by his bedside, watching over him with tear-filled eyes, they couldn't help but feel the weight of the kingdom's despair pressing down upon them.

Outside the palace walls, the once lively streets had fallen silent, the bustling energy of the kingdom replaced by a palpable sense of mourning. People went about their daily routines with a hollow emptiness in their eyes, their spirits crushed beneath the weight of their collective grief.

In the midst of it all, Konosa remained a solitary figure, his presence a constant reminder of the tragedy that had befallen them. Locked away in his room, he sat in silence, his soul adrift in a sea of despair as he struggled to come to terms with the horrors he had witnessed.

And so, the days passed by in a haze of sorrow and anguish, each one blending into the next as the kingdom mourned the loss of its innocence and prayed for the light of hope to once again shine upon their troubled land.

As another week passed by, the kingdom of Water began to stir with whispers of hope. News spread like wildfire that the commander, Greg, was in a healthy state and would soon resume his duties at the helm of the military. The prospect of his return brought a glimmer of joy to the hearts of the kingdom's residents, a beacon of light amidst the darkness that had enveloped them.

But amidst the celebration, there was still no news of the king's condition. He remained ensconced in a deep slumber, his fate uncertain as the kingdom held its breath in anticipation of his awakening. Yet, even in the absence of concrete reassurance, the mere possibility of his recovery was enough to lift their spirits and pull them halfway out of their misery.

Determined to express his gratitude, the first thing Commander Greg decided to do upon his recovery was to visit Konosa, the young prince whose bravery had saved his life on the battlefield. As he entered the dimly lit room, his heart clenched at the sight before him.

"Young Master Konosa," Greg's voice cracked with emotion as he dropped to the ground before the young prince, his eyes filled with gratitude and respect.

"Commander Greg?" Konosa's voice, though faint, carried a hint of surprise as he lifted his head from its bowed position in the corner of the room.

"How are you now, Commander Greg?" Konosa's concern was genuine, his chapped lips parting to utter his first words in what felt like an eternity.

"Only because of you I have been given another life. I don't know how I will ever be able to repay that," Greg replied, his voice thick with emotion as he struggled to convey the depth of his gratitude. "You are a brave warrior, young Master Konosa."

As Greg spoke, a spark of determination flickered in Konosa's eyes, a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that threatened to consume him. The commander's words resonated within him, stirring a newfound sense of purpose within his troubled heart.

"The fury you had during battle made me realize what we were missing," Greg continued, his gaze unwavering as he spoke. "Your Highness apparently would not approve, but I suggest you become a magical sword master."

"A magical sword master?" Konosa's interest was piqued, his curiosity overshadowing the darkness that had clouded his thoughts.

Greg knelt down, placing a hand on Konosa's head with a solemn reverence. "Yes, people who protect the country from spirits, monsters, and other creatures. You have power, immense power. Please utilize them for good. Your father was once a magical sword master too."

"Why not now...?" Konosa's voice trailed off, his thoughts drifting to the father he had lost amidst the chaos of battle.

"He gave up the risky job for his family. Your father is considerate of all of you," Greg explained, his tone gentle yet firm.

"...if you become a sword master, you can save everyone?" Konosa's voice held a glimmer of hope, a longing for redemption in the wake of tragedy.

"Yes, young master," Greg affirmed, his gaze meeting Konosa's with unwavering resolve. "But you must train in sword fighting, how to handle swords and cloak them with your energy. Then, you must enter the sword master examination. If you get selected, you will get a trainer who will polish your skills, and then you can enter the sword master squads."

"A trainer?" Konosa's brow furrowed with curiosity, his mind racing with the possibilities that lay before him.

"You won't know which trainer lives in which house. After you survive the mountains, you will reach the top where the village is. There will be a lot of houses built in a line. Every house will have a trainer. You will select the house and then see who you get," Greg explained, his words painting a vivid picture of the journey that lay ahead.

"That's like a lottery..." Konosa remarked, a hint of skepticism coloring his tone.

"But you need to try to reach first. There are always chances that the good trainers will be taken. After you select the trainer, and if the trainer says you are not worth being trained under him, you need to find a trainer who will accept you. And if none is found, you will be forced to leave and try again the next year. So always reach first. That way, they will know you are strong."

"...right... strength..." Konosa's voice was soft, his thoughts consumed by the weight of responsibility that lay upon his shoulders.

"What's wrong, young master?" Greg's concern was evident in his voice, his eyes searching Konosa's for any sign of hesitation.

"If I can save lives and avoid incidents like the one that happened with you and my father, I will happily join as a magical sword master... but I need help. Please teach me, High Star Commander Greg," Konosa's words were filled with a quiet resolve, his determination shining through the darkness that had gripped his soul.

Following their conversation, every day, without fail, Konosa threw himself into his training with unwavering determination, pushing his body to its limits under the watchful eye of Commander Greg. From the crack of dawn until the last rays of sunlight faded into the night, they sparred and drilled, honing Konosa's skills to razor-sharp precision.

Under the commander's tutelage, Konosa learned the intricacies of swordsmanship, mastering the art of wielding his blade with finesse and grace. He discovered how to anticipate his opponent's movements, how to feint and parry with lightning-fast reflexes, and how to strike with deadly accuracy.

But their training went beyond mere physical prowess. Commander Greg instilled in Konosa the importance of mental fortitude, teaching him how to keep his breath steady and his mind focused even in the heat of battle. Together, they delved into the intricacies of combat strategy, exploring different tactics and techniques to outmaneuver their adversaries.

Situation-based training became a staple of their regimen, each scenario designed to test Konosa's skills and instincts in a variety of combat scenarios. From rescuing hostages to facing off against overwhelming odds, Konosa faced each challenge head-on, his determination unyielding in the face of adversity.

But amidst the rigors of their training, there were moments of respite and camaraderie. Each evening, after their long and exhausting practice sessions, Konosa and Commander Greg would retire to the roof of their house to share a meal together.

As they sat beneath the starlit sky, the cool evening breeze carrying the scent of jasmine and honeysuckle, Konosa found solace in the warmth of their conversations. They spoke of battles won and lost, of dreams and aspirations, and of the bond that had forged between them.

***

As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the rooftop where Konosa and Commander Greg sat, the young prince's thoughts turned to his beloved sister, Ishoya, and the adventures that awaited them in the days to come.

"I will soon become a magical sword master, and then I will defeat all those people who tried to harm us. Then I will take my pretty sister Ishoya for a ride on the water clouds. I hope that she likes the idea," Konosa mused, his eyes shining with determination.

"Yes, she will. You love your sister a lot, don't you?" Commander Greg remarked, his voice gentle as he observed the affection that radiated from the young prince.

"Yes. She has always been so protective when it comes to me. She never tried to outshine me or put me down. Oh! When I was seven, I and my sister were playing dress-up, and at the time, my hair was lengthier than hers, so she tied my hair in a nice ponytail. It was embarrassing, but it was very fun. I liked how she then dressed up like a guy to match up with me..." Konosa's smile was nostalgic as he reminisced about the fond memories he shared with his sister.

"I remember how long your hair was, young master Konosa," Greg chuckled, his own memories stirred by Konosa's words.

"Yes, small things but make such a huge difference. She is very warm towards me, her sweet voice and beautiful eyes," Konosa continued, his affection for his sister evident in every word he spoke.

"Young master, it's amazing how you always compliment your sister," Greg remarked, his admiration for their bond evident in his tone.

"Commander Greg, I have a question," Konosa interjected, his expression thoughtful as he shifted the conversation to a more serious topic.

"Please proceed, young master Konosa," Greg replied, his attention fully focused on the young prince.

"So, I wanted to know if older guys or girls can be friends with younger guys or girls?" Konosa's question hung in the air, tinged with a hint of uncertainty.

"You like an older girl, master?" Greg teased, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"Ah, no-" Konosa's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, his attempt to clarify quickly derailed by Greg's playful banter.

"Oh, how you have grown, young master," Greg continued, his laughter echoing through the evening air.

"No, no-" Konosa attempted to interject, but Greg's teasing persisted, much to his chagrin.

"Who is this lovely lady, young master?" Greg pressed on, his grin widening with each passing moment.

"Commander Greg-" Konosa's protest fell on deaf ears as Greg's playful interrogation continued unabated.

"Better even. I'll teach you how to talk to females. You can win her heart, young master," Greg suggested, his tone filled with mock seriousness.

"Commander-" Konosa tried once more to steer the conversation back on track, but Greg's relentless teasing showed no signs of abating.

"Who won't want a man like you-" Greg's words were interrupted by Konosa's exasperated plea.

"LISTEN TO ME, PLEASE!"

"S-SORRY, SORRY, YOUNG MASTER!!" Greg stammered, his playful demeanor replaced by genuine contrition as he bowed nervously before Konosa.

"Oh gosh, no. Don't apologize. It's just that I have a senior I want to make friends with, but I am not sure if he will agree," Konosa explained, his frustration giving way to earnest sincerity.

"Oh! Yes, of course, young master Konosa! Anyone would like to be friends with a kind and nice person like you," Greg reassured, his tone softening as he recognized the vulnerability in Konosa's words.

"Really? Then be my friend," Konosa declared, his eyes shining with hope as he extended an invitation to the man who had become not just his mentor, but his confidant and friend.

"Huh?" Greg's surprise was evident, his hesitation mirrored in his uncertain expression.

"You are my senior. Maybe thirty years older than me, but I love spending time with you. It's fun when we talk and eat meals together," Konosa explained, his sincerity shining through his words.

"I would like to cry now, young master," Greg joked, his attempt to lighten the mood met with a gentle smile from Konosa.

"Aw, that's so sweet of you," Konosa replied, his own smile reflecting the warmth of their bond.

"No-" Greg's protest was interrupted by Konosa's earnest plea.

"Huh?" Greg's confusion was evident, his brow furrowing in puzzlement.

"I'm only twenty-three..." Greg's revelation hung in the air, a surprising twist in the conversation that left Konosa momentarily speechless.

"Ah! I am sorry, sorry!!!" Konosa's embarrassment was palpable, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he realized his mistake.

"But friends with me?" Greg's question hung in the air, his gaze fixed on Konosa with a mix of uncertainty and hope.

"Yes. My father, the king, though we spend time together, he has a lot of things to shoulder. He can't be friendly with me very much. My mother doesn't live here, and my sister only rarely does visit me. I have spent my entire life with you. As a kid, Commander has been my babysitter, guide, protector, and now my Sensei," Konosa explained, his voice tinged with gratitude as he spoke.

Greg couldn't help but feel a surge of affection as he gazed into Konosa's twinkling eyes, their warmth melting away any lingering doubts or reservations he might have had. There was something undeniably magnetic about the young prince, a charisma that drew people to him like moths to a flame.

"Being friends with a commander is not going to be so easy, young master Konosa," Greg remarked, his tone tinged with a hint of caution.

"But we will try. First, let's start with being informal. Don't call me young master Konosa. Just Konosa will do, or if you wish to give me a nickname of your own, that will work as well," Konosa suggested, his smile radiant with optimism.

"Oh, okay...uh... er...uh...um... Konosa," Greg hesitated, his voice tentative as he tested out the unfamiliar form of address.

"Yeah. You will get used to it, Sensei Greg," Konosa reassured, his confidence unwavering as he extended the olive branch of friendship.

Twelve years old Konosa had now mastered most of the combat techniques taught to him by his mentor, his skill with the sword rivaling that of seasoned warriors.

But amidst his training, Konosa's heart was heavy with the absence of his family. Ishoya had embarked on her own journey to live a life on the land, while his mother had left to travel across the wind Kingdom, using her healing abilities to aid those in need. And his father, the king, remained in a deep slumber, his condition unchanged even after three long years.

"Sensei Greg," Konosa greeted his mentor as they began their training session, his voice filled with determination.

"Ah, Brat. How are you today?" Greg replied, his gruff voice softened by a hint of affection.

"Good. Let's start training," Konosa declared, his eagerness palpable as he readied himself for another session of intense practice.

And so, under the watchful eye of Sensei Greg, Konosa threw himself into his training with renewed vigor. Each strike of his sword was executed with precision, his movements fluid and graceful as he danced across the training grounds.

But as the clock struck eleven, their practice came to a halt, and Greg reached into his bag with a smile.

"Hey, brat. Look. I got you this," Greg said, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he handed Konosa a small bag.

"What is it, Sensei?" Konosa asked, curiosity piqued as he eagerly reached into the bag.

"See for yourself," Greg replied with a grin, his excitement evident as Konosa pulled out the contents of the bag.

"Clothes?" Konosa's eyes widened in surprise as he examined the uniform laid out before him. It was a sleek, black uniform, its fabric gleaming in the dim light of the training grounds.

"A uniform," Konosa whispered, his voice filled with awe as he held the garment in his hands. It was a uniform he had dreamt of wearing someday, a symbol of strength and honor that he had longed to don since he was a young boy.

"Oh, Sensei... I'm so happy to receive this. I have always, always wanted to wear a uniform like this," Konosa exclaimed, his eyes shining with gratitude as he looked up at his mentor.

"Yeah. You are strong now. You always were. And now your skills are polished. I hope you will wear that when you get in," Greg replied, his voice filled with pride as he watched Konosa's reaction.

"Thank you so much, Sensei Greg. I am going to wear this for the final selection. Definitely," Konosa vowed, his determination stronger than ever as he envisioned himself wearing the uniform of a magical sword master.

As the first rays of dawn pierced through the darkness, signaling the beginning of a new day, Konosa's heart fluttered with anticipation. His mentor and friend, Greg, stood beside him, his presence a reassuring presence amidst the uncertainty that hung in the air.

"Father's up?" Konosa inquired, his voice tinged with a mix of hope and trepidation.

"Yes," Greg replied, his tone subdued as he nodded towards the castle where the king lay.

"I want to see him," Konosa declared, his determination shining in his eyes.

"Yes, young master Konosa," Greg bowed respectfully, his demeanor reflecting the deep respect he held for the young prince.

"What happened to you calling me brat?" Konosa asked, a hint of playful mischief dancing in his eyes.

"I shouldn't have. Since the king's here to handle it all, let's go back to being the same as before, young master Konosa," Greg replied, his tone tinged with a sense of deference.

"No. My friends will remain my friends. Don't fear my father," Konosa insisted, his voice firm and unwavering.

"But-" Greg began to protest, only to be cut off by Konosa's resolute words.

"No excuses. You made me your friend. Now suffer," Konosa declared, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he playfully teased his mentor.

Greg couldn't help but smile at Konosa's words, his heart warmed by the genuine bond they shared.

As Konosa and Greg approached the room where the king was resting, a sense of solemnity hung in the air. The young prince's heart pounded with a mixture of anxiety and relief as he prepared to reunite with his father after what felt like an eternity.

"Father," Konosa called out softly as they entered the room, his voice filled with a mixture of concern and affection.

"Konosa?" The king sat up, his tired eyes lighting up with recognition as he greeted his son.

"You should not, father. Please lie down," Konosa urged gently, his hands guiding his father back onto the bed with a tender touch.

"Your Highness," Greg bowed respectfully, acknowledging the king's presence with a deep sense of reverence.

"Greg. Sorry you had to see me so beat up and helpless," the king apologized with a wistful smile, his voice tinged with a hint of self-deprecation.

"What's the worth of a king like me who cannot even take care of his kingdom," he lamented, his gaze falling to the floor in a moment of vulnerability.

"No, father. Don't say that..." Konosa interjected, his voice filled with unwavering support and love for his father.

"How's your mother and Ishoya?" the king inquired, his concern evident as he sought updates on his family.

"Mother keeps thinking about you. But being queen, she is also tied to looking after the kingdom. Sister's gone to the land. She does not live here with us anymore," Konosa explained, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness at the mention of his absent sister.

"I see," the king murmured, his expression reflecting a mixture of understanding and resignation.

"Oh, right. Greg. Can you please show me the current military status?" the king requested, shifting the focus of the conversation to the pressing matters at hand.

"Right away," Greg replied with a nod, his sense of duty compelling him to fulfill the king's request without delay. With a respectful bow, he excused himself from the room and hastened to gather the necessary information.

Rushing through the corridors of the hospital and then the palace, Greg swiftly obtained the files detailing the military status. With practiced efficiency, he returned to the king's room, eager to provide the requested information.

However, as he entered the room, he was surprised to find Konosa rushing out, his expression unreadable as he hurried past without a word. Greg's brow furrowed in concern, but before he could inquire further, the king addressed him.

"Your Highness. Is something wrong with young Master Konosa?" Greg inquired, his voice laced with worry.

"He misses his sister," the king replied quietly, his gaze fixed on the window as he contemplated the weight of his son's emotions.

Understanding dawned on Greg's face as he absorbed the king's words. Handing over the files of the military status, he offered them to the king with a respectful bow.

"Thank you, Greg. Please wait outside," the king requested, his tone gentle yet firm as he signaled for some privacy.

Several days passed, marked by the king's gradual recovery and eventual discharge from the hospital. As he returned to the palace, a crowd gathered to welcome him, their cheers echoing through the air with a sense of joyous relief.

"Halt, my men. I understand we went through a lot of difficulties since I was not there. The kingdom's work slowed down, and my beloved friends, your wishes were pressed too. But now I promise we will stand back like how we were," the king announced, his voice ringing out with determination and resolve.

Tears of happiness glistened in the eyes of the gathered crowd as they listened to their king's words, reassured by his unwavering commitment to their well-being. With renewed hope and determination, they cheered for their beloved monarch, knowing that under his leadership, their kingdom would once again thrive.

In the dimly lit chambers of King Genza, the air was thick with tension as Commander Greg burst in, his footsteps echoing loudly against the stone walls.

"Your Highness! Your Highness..." Greg's voice rang out urgently, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he clutched a note in his hand.

The king turned towards Greg, his expression a mix of concern and apprehension. "What is it, Greg?" he inquired, his voice tinged with a sense of urgency.

"What's that, Greg?" the king pressed, his eyes narrowing as he noticed the note in Greg's hand.

"Your Highness! Young Master Konosa...." Greg's voice trailed off, his words laden with a weighty sense of foreboding.

"What is it? What happened to Konosa?" the king demanded, his heart pounding with a sudden surge of fear.

"Your Highness... Young Master Konosa has..." Greg hesitated, his voice trembling with uncertainty.

"Say something, Greg. Konosa what?" the king urged, his hands shaking as he reached out to grasp Greg's shoulders.

"Young Master Konosa is gone!" Greg finally blurted out, his words hanging heavy in the air like a dark cloud.

"Gone where? What are you saying?" the king exclaimed, his mind reeling with disbelief at the shocking news.

"I don't know what happened, Your Highness, but it seems he has something he wants to do which won't be approved of," Greg explained, his voice choked with emotion as he handed the note to the king.

The king's hands trembled as he unfolded the note, his eyes scanning the hastily scrawled words with growing dread. With each passing moment, his heart sank lower in his chest as the reality of the situation began to sink in.

"What... what does it say?" the king whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible above the pounding of his own heart.

Greg's expression darkened as he glanced at the note once more before meeting the king's gaze with a heavy sigh. "It says, 'I must follow my own path, even if it means leaving everything behind. Please understand, Father.'"

The king's breath caught in his throat as he struggled to comprehend the depth of Konosa's words. His beloved son, driven by a sense of purpose that even he could not fully grasp, had chosen to embark on a journey into the unknown, leaving behind everything he held dear.

With a heavy heart, the king folded the note and clutched it tightly to his chest, his thoughts consumed by worry and uncertainty for the fate of his son.

***

[Past timeline
Location: kamakura streets.
Konosa and Remeshi.
Time: afternoon.
Dated 3rd June.❤️]

Remeshi watched as Konosa waved for him to follow. With a curious tilt to his head, Remeshi fell into step beside his sensei, the elder's long robes swishing softly with each movement.

"Where are we going, Sensei Konosa?" Remeshi inquired, his voice betraying a mixture of excitement and anticipation.

"To the market area," Konosa replied, his tone holding a hint of mystery.

"But isn't this the market place itself?" Remeshi gestured to the bustling stalls and lively activity surrounding them.

Konosa chuckled softly, a twinkle in his eyes. "There's a highly lively one up ahead," he explained. "Just follow me~"

Intrigued, Remeshi nodded eagerly and quickened his pace to keep up with Konosa's confident stride. As they navigated through the bustling streets, the sights, sounds, and smells of the marketplace enveloped them. The air was filled with the tantalizing aroma of spices, the vibrant colors of exotic fabrics, and the lively chatter of merchants vying for customers' attention.

Remeshi gazed around the bustling square, likening it to a colossal food truck. His eyes flickered with excitement as he made the comparison, turning to Konosa for confirmation.

"Yeah, I know," Konosa replied, a hint of pride evident in his voice.

Remeshi couldn't help but feel a twinge of awkwardness at Konosa's smug demeanor. "And why do you look so smug about it?" he questioned, his tone laced with curiosity.

Konosa chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his head in a sheepish manner. "Hehe," was all he offered in response before gently tugging Remeshi along.

As they promenaded through the lively market, Konosa spoke of teaching Remeshi how to procure food with minimal to no money, a proposition that left Remeshi feeling a mixture of intrigue and skepticism.

"And there you go again, looking all high and mighty," Remeshi remarked with a raised eyebrow.

Konosa simply grinned in response, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"But without money... black market...?" Remeshi trailed off, his voice tinged with concern.

"Oh no, I don't do illegal," Konosa reassured him quickly. "I'm a very responsible citizen, you know."

"Thank goodness," Remeshi breathed a sigh of relief.

"Really?" Konosa mused, before changing the subject. "Anyway, I work at places like restaurants."

"Part-time jobs?" Remeshi guessed, trying to piece together the puzzle of Konosa's cryptic statements.

"Part-time? I don't even have a normal job," Konosa laughed, his laughter echoing through the crowded streets.

"What's so nice about it?" Remeshi probed, his curiosity piqued.

"I feel like it's oak dish time," Konosa declared, patting his belly with a contented smile.

"The what dish?" Remeshi questioned, utterly perplexed.

"Oak dishes, boy. They're like sweets, basically. I also like peaches, but it's fine, I guess. No issues," Konosa explained, his expression serene.

"Oh, okay," Remeshi nodded, though he couldn't shake off his confusion.

Before he knew it, Konosa had led him into a restaurant, where they were greeted by an elderly woman standing at the entrance.

"Hello, miss," Konosa greeted the woman with a warm smile. "I'm here to work."

"Sure you can. Both of you?" the woman inquired, eyeing Remeshi and Konosa with curiosity.

"Yes, both of us," Konosa confirmed, though Remeshi was still struggling to comprehend what was happening.

"But... I... uh... er... what..." Remeshi stammered, his words faltering as he found himself suddenly clad in a waiter's uniform with dishes balanced precariously in his palms. "Yes, ma'am. I'm here to work too," he managed to say, though his voice betrayed his bewilderment.

"Very well. This way, please," the woman said, skipping joyously ahead of them. "You will wait on tables here. Make sure to get as many customers as possible, okay?"

"Yeah, we will. Don't worry, pretty old hag, and have some nice rest while we're at it," Konosa assured her, his words causing Remeshi to raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"Pretty old hag? Are you complimenting or insulting her, Senpai?" Remeshi couldn't help but inquire in his head, his tone tinged with amusement and disbelief.

"Now, time to break some sweat," Konosa declared, stretching his arms out as if preparing for battle. "Let's go," he added, gesturing towards the bustling restaurant.

"Hah... how did I end up in a waiter's dress with two plates in my hand..." Remeshi muttered to himself, still struggling to make sense of the situation.

"I'll take table 4, and you?" Konosa asked, snapping Remeshi out of his reverie.

"Uh... table... 26?" Remeshi replied uncertainly, his mind still reeling from the whirlwind of events.

The restaurant buzzed with activity as Remeshi deftly navigated between tables, his youthful features hidden beneath a veneer of professionalism. When a lady called out for assistance, Remeshi approached her with a warm smile, ready to attend to her needs.

"How may I help you?" he asked politely, his voice soft and accommodating.

The lady's eyes widened in delight as she took in Remeshi's youthful appearance. "Wow... so cute," she squealed, drawing the attention of nearby patrons. Before Remeshi knew it, a crowd of females had gathered around him, their voices blending into a chorus of admiration.

"He looks so freaking handsome, and that smile suits him too. My heart will explode," one of them exclaimed, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"How old are you, boy?" the ladies chorused, their eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Huh? Fourteen... maybe," Remeshi replied uncertainly, feeling a pang of unease at the sudden attention.

"Aw, we're unlucky then. But it's fine, right? I'm twenty-five," one of the ladies reassured him, followed by others stating their ages.

"And I'm twenty-one."

"I'm nineteen."

"Do you like older girls, or do you already have someone you like?" they asked in unison, their voices filled with anticipation.

Remeshi hesitated, feeling the weight of their collective gaze upon him. "No, I don't like anyone," he replied cautiously, unsure of how to navigate the unexpected interrogation.

The ladies squealed in delight, their excitement palpable as they fainted one by one, leaving Remeshi utterly bewildered.

"Now they all passed out?!" Remeshi exclaimed, his head spinning with confusion.

"Way to go, waiter. All our customers are dead now," Konosa commented wryly, his tone laced with amusement.

"And now it's my fault," Remeshi protested, feeling a surge of frustration at the absurdity of the situation.

"Didn't they fall for you?" Konosa quipped, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"They what?" Remeshi spluttered, his mind struggling to process the bizarre turn of events.

"Well, how old did you say you were?" Konosa inquired, his curiosity piqued.

"Fourteen...?" Remeshi replied tentatively, wondering where this line of questioning was leading.

"Your sister told me this," Remeshi explained, hoping to shed some light on the matter.

"Ah, she read the winds," Konosa boasted cryptically, brushing off the topic with a wave of his hand.

"So, you are fourteen. Did you understand whatever they asked?" Konosa pressed, his gaze scrutinizing Remeshi's reaction.

"They asked about girls. I've only met one and don't know her, so I just replied with a no," Remeshi admitted, feeling a pang of embarrassment at his lack of experience.

"Such a meathead you are," Konosa chuckled, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

"Huh?" Remeshi frowned, unsure of how to interpret Konosa's teasing.

"Gosh, nothing. Suppose you met a girl and knew her well then?" Konosa continued, his tone casual yet probing.

"Well, if I met a girl and we got to know each other well after, I would have said yes... I think..." Remeshi trailed off, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"Meathead," Konosa muttered under his breath, though Remeshi couldn't quite catch his words.

"Meathead? Don't call me that!" Remeshi protested, feeling a surge of indignation.

"Shut up, you idiot," Konosa retorted, though there was a hint of affection in his tone.

"Dare you," Remeshi challenged, though his resolve faltered at the playful glint in Konosa's eyes.

"Yeah? What will you do?" Konosa teased, prompting Remeshi to bolt away in mock fear.

"Sorry, Senpai!" Remeshi called out as he retreated, his laughter echoing through the restaurant.

"Forget it... he's way less stupid-looking when he's working," Konosa muttered to himself, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Hey, you. Watch out. Don't spill anything, or we'll be kicked out of this place," Konosa called out after Remeshi, his voice carrying a note of caution.

"Yes, okay," Remeshi replied, his tone earnest as he resumed his duties with renewed determination.

"Careful! Look in front of you," Konosa warned, though Remeshi's attention was elsewhere.

"Don't scare me, Senpai. I know you're trying to teach me responsibility, but I'll be good by myself-" Remeshi's sentence was cut short as he collided with a wooden pillar, his head throbbing with pain.

Konosa winced sympathetically as Remeshi slumped to the ground, his face contorted in agony. "Must have hurt," Konosa remarked, peering down at his fallen companion.

"Senpai, help me," Remeshi cried out, his voice tinged with desperation.

"Yeah, yeah," Konosa replied nonchalantly, reaching down to haul Remeshi to his feet by the collar of his shirt.

"See what I told you?" Konosa chided gently, though there was a note of concern in his voice.

"Sorry, Senpai..." Remeshi murmured, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Hm. Wonder if you mean it," Konosa mused, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone.

"I do. I do. I swear I won't mess this up for you," Remeshi vowed, bowing deeply in a gesture of contrition.

"Okay, okay! Just do your work right..." Konosa relented, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he watched Remeshi resume his duties with renewed determination.

As Remeshi approached the tables, he found himself the object of admiring gazes from the female patrons, their eyes following his every move with unabashed curiosity.

"Your order?" Remeshi asked, his smile warm and inviting.

"Aw, you think I can play dress up with you?" one of the ladies asked, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Remeshi's gaze darted towards Konosa, seeking guidance, but his mentor was preoccupied with other matters.

"Help yourself, kid. I'm busy," Konosa replied, leaving Remeshi to fend for himself.

Feeling a surge of panic, Remeshi struggled to formulate a response. "I will say no," he blurted out, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"Aw, so cute. I'll wait for your approval," the lady replied, her smile radiant with anticipation.

"Man, I hate that new guy!" one of the young waiters remarked, his voice filled with envy. "What's so great about his looks? I mean, all he has are some sparkly eyes, blushed cheeks, glossy purple hair, and a sweet smile... Oh wait. I see it. But I still hate him..."

"Aha! Well, everyone has their own uniqueness," Konosa chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"He's getting us customers, though all of them are females, but at least... the restaurant is full," another waiter observed.

The bustling restaurant hummed with activity as Remeshi gracefully moved between tables, taking orders and attending to the needs of the patrons. Amidst the flurry of activity, the group of waiters stood huddled at the counter, their curious gazes fixed on Remeshi, who seemed to be attracting attention from the female customers like a magnet.

"Yeah, that's that," one of the waiters remarked with a nod of approval, his tone tinged with a hint of envy.

"I don't understand. Who is he? I have never seen him around this area," another waiter remarked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"He's with me," Konosa interjected casually, sauntering over to join the group of waiters at the counter.

"Uh... I haven't seen you either..." the waiter replied, his voice trailing off as he struggled to place Konosa's face.

"Yeah, we live at the end of the borders," Konosa explained vaguely, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"Oh," the waiter murmured, seemingly satisfied with the explanation.

"Saved it. Could I tell him I'm the prince of the water kingdom who befriended an Argon?" Konosa mused aloud without himself noticing, before strolling away, leaving the group of waiters staring after him in bewilderment.

As Konosa disappeared into the bustling restaurant, the group of waiters exchanged puzzled glances, their curiosity piqued by his cryptic remark.

"Did he just say he's the prince of a water kingdom?" one of the waiters whispered incredulously.

"I have no idea what he's talking about," another replied with a shrug, shaking his head in bemusement.

Meanwhile, Remeshi continued to move gracefully through the restaurant, his presence eliciting admiring glances from the female patrons. Despite the confusion surrounding Konosa's enigmatic statement, the atmosphere remained vibrant and lively, with Remeshi's charm and efficiency ensuring that the customers were well taken care of.

The restaurant buzzed with activity as Remeshi deftly navigated between tables, taking orders and attending to the needs of the patrons with a practiced ease. Despite the chaos around him, he managed to maintain a calm and composed demeanor, his youthful features hidden beneath a veneer of professionalism.

"Please take my order, cute waiter," a female patron called out, her voice tinged with anticipation.

"May I know your name?" Remeshi replied politely, his tone warm and inviting as he balanced plates on both his hands and head with remarkable skill.

As Remeshi moved gracefully through the restaurant, a hush fell over the room, and every female locked their eyes on him as if he were a target marked in red. Requests for his attention poured in from all corners of the room, each accompanied by a chorus of adoring whispers.

"Please take my order too, Remeshi."

"Mine too."

"And mine."

"Here too."

"Ah, he became super popular in just an hour," Konosa sighed, observing Remeshi's newfound celebrity status with a mixture of amusement and pride. "His looks can get me loads," he muttered to himself, a sly smirk curling up on his lips.

The other male waiters glanced at Konosa, their expressions a mixture of envy and irritation. Sensing their discontent, Konosa shot them a warning glare. "What? Do your own work," he snapped, his tone brusque and dismissive.

"Senpai, help me," Remeshi pleaded, his voice carrying across the room as he struggled to keep up with the demands of the customers.

Konosa's patience wore thin as Remeshi's pleas continued unabated. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Konosa felt a vein pop on his forehead.

"If you complain again, I will chop your head and serve it to the other guys here who envy you," Konosa threatened, his voice laced with barely contained frustration.

"Yikes. Sorry," Remeshi muttered, his expression sheepish as he realized the extent of Konosa's irritation.

"Why did he have to go and say envy? Was it really necessary?" one of the male waiters whispered to another, their voices filled with discontent.

"Yes, it is necessary. There are thousands of boys around the continent," Konosa snapped, his glare silencing their gossiping.

"Ugh. Don't think you and your friend are all that-" one of the waiters began, only to be cut off by Konosa's menacing glare.

"Do you not value your work or your life?" Konosa demanded, his voice low and dangerous as he gripped the boy's collar, lifting him off the ground.

"I'm sorry, let me go," the waiter pleaded, his voice tinged with fear as he flailed his limbs in a futile attempt to break free.

Konosa released his grip on the waiter's collar, allowing him to scurry away in a hurry. With order restored, the waiters returned to their duties, albeit with a newfound sense of urgency and respect for Konosa's authority.

After an hour, a loud bell rang across the restaurant, signaling the end of the lunch rush. Customers began rushing out, paying their bills as they made their way to the exit.

"Lunchtime," Konosa remarked, stretching his arms as he prepared to take a break. "Hey, Remeshi," he called out, "wait up! I have bills to make."

"We aren't serious about this, we just came to eat," Konosa continued, addressing Remeshi. "He never wanted to work anyway, but the ladies sure are making him work," he added with a smirk.

As Remeshi sorted the final bill, he excused himself and made his way to the kitchen, eager to take a break from the chaos of the dining area.

"You made me wait for ages," Konosa remarked, glancing up at Remeshi with an uninterested yet piercing look.

"Sorry, Senpai," Remeshi apologized, bowing repeatedly in a gesture of contrition.

"Yeah, okay. Now let's waste no more time," Konosa said, his tone brisk as he continued to sort through the bills.

As Konosa packed up some food for dinner, Remeshi glanced at him with a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty.

"What are you doing, and where did you get that bag from?" Remeshi asked, ruffling his hair in confusion.

"It's from the restaurant, free for the ones who work here, and I am packing some up for dinner," Konosa explained casually, his tone relaxed as he continued with his task.

"Oh," Remeshi replied, though he couldn't shake off a lingering sense of unease.

"You are such a clown," Konosa remarked, shaking his head in amusement.

"That was not nice..." Remeshi's jaw dropped, hurt by Konosa's words.

The bell rang a second time, signaling the end of the lunch break. Remeshi stood up, wearing the apron around his waist as he prepared to return to work.

"End of lunch break," Konosa declared, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"You work so much for food, Konosa Sensei. It is so admirable," Remeshi remarked, his tone filled with genuine admiration.

"Heh," Konosa chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment.

"Yeah, now come on," Remeshi said, marching forward proudly as Konosa followed behind him. However, before they could leave, Konosa picked up a plate from the table and, in a blink of an eye, tossed it on the floor, where it shattered into several pieces, adding to the chaotic atmosphere of the bustling restaurant.

"That was a mistake, right...?" Remeshi ventured tentatively, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he swallowed nervously.

"Nya," Konosa replied cheerfully, his tone light and carefree.

"I am done with having oak dishes," he added, breaking into laughter. However, their moment of levity was short-lived as the owner of the restaurant stormed towards them, her expression twisted in rage.

"You broke my precious plate! You are fired!" she yelled at Konosa, her voice reverberating through the crowded restaurant.

Remeshi watched in dismay as the owner's anger turned towards Konosa, but his attention was quickly diverted when the owner's gaze softened as she looked at him.

"I am counting on you," she said to Remeshi, her tone softening as she placed her trust in him.

"Yes, yes ma'am," Remeshi replied, bowing respectfully before turning to pick up the dishes from the counter and carry them towards the wash area. However, before he could reach his destination, Konosa stretched out his leg, causing Remeshi to trip and the food on the plate to spill all over the owner's face.

"GET OUT!" the owner screamed, her voice filled with fury as she pointed towards the exit.

Konosa wasted no time in grabbing Remeshi's hand, and together they bolted out of the restaurant, leaving chaos and confusion in their wake.

"What the heck, Senpai?" Remeshi gasped, his breath coming in ragged pants as they rushed past the restaurant and out onto the street.

"Ah, it never gets old. This is how I earn food. Now, I want sushi," Konosa declared, rubbing his belly with a contented smile.

"Wait, so you get a job and then get fired on purpose?" Remeshi asked incredulously, struggling to comprehend Konosa's unconventional approach to earning a meal.

"Right. I am glad you understood, meathead," Konosa replied, nodding proudly at Remeshi's understanding of his methods.

"I won't support this," Remeshi stated firmly, his voice filled with determination.

"If you don't come, I'll rip off your hair, beat you up, and then hang you up on a tree branch. Let the ladies watch," Konosa threatened, his tone playful yet tinged with a hint of menace.

After a moment of tense silence, he turned to Remeshi and asked, "Are you coming?"

"Yes, sir," Remeshi replied, bowing obediently as he resigned himself to following Konosa's lead.

Together, they hurried down the street, their footsteps echoing against the pavement as they made their way towards a small sushi bar at the end of the block. However, as they approached, they were met with a sight that filled them with surprise and frustration: a long line snaked its way down the street, leading to the entrance of the sushi bar.

"What is that long line for?" Remeshi asked, his eyes widening in disbelief as he surveyed the crowd.

"Maybe people who want to join in for a job," Konosa suggested, though his tone was tinged with skepticism.

"Oh," Remeshi replied, his expression brightening as he considered the possibility of finding employment at the sushi bar.

Despite their initial enthusiasm, the minutes ticked by agonizingly slowly as they inched forward in the line, the anticipation of their impending meal overshadowed by the frustration of the wait.

"If they don't give us our break on time, I will kill them," Konosa muttered under his breath, his patience wearing thin as they continued to wait in line.

As Remeshi and Konosa finally reached the entrance of the sushi bar, they were met by a pale-looking man with freckles covering most of his loose, fragile face. His eyes were squeezed shut, his trembling lips curled up in a warm smile as he greeted them. He was attired in a grey kimono with a Hakama over it, giving him an air of quiet elegance despite his somewhat frail appearance.

"Thank you, sir. We won't let you down," Konosa said, beaming with confidence as he addressed the owner.

The owner's smile widened at Konosa's words, a glimmer of warmth shining through his closed eyes. "I'm glad to hear that," he replied, his voice soft and gentle as he welcomed them into the sushi bar.

As they followed the owner inside, Remeshi couldn't help but feel a sense of reverence for the tranquil atmosphere of the establishment. The walls were adorned with traditional Japanese artwork, and the scent of freshly prepared sushi filled the air, tantalizing their senses.

Remeshi let out a weary sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as he surveyed the scene unfolding before him in the bustling sushi bar. The air was thick with the savory aroma of fresh fish and the murmur of patrons enjoying their meals. Beside him, Konosa, his companion, wore a calm expression, seemingly unfazed by the escalating tension.

"Yeah! This is my life. It's fun right?" Konosa remarked, his tone carrying a hint of irony as he adjusted his uniform, the familiar attire of their shared profession.

Remeshi nodded in agreement, though his eyes betrayed a sense of resignation. Together, they stood by the counter, waiting patiently for their next task.

Suddenly, a voice cut through the ambient noise, drawing their attention. "Waiter," someone called out, and a young girl approached, her uniform marking her as a waitress.

"How may I help you, sir?" she inquired politely, her demeanor professional despite the subtle scrutiny from the customer before her.

The man's gaze lingered on her, his words laced with condescension as he appraised her appearance. "Wow, aren't you a young and beautiful maiden. And you are working as a waitress, huh," he remarked, his tone patronizing.

Undeterred, the waitress maintained her composure. "Can I have your order, sir?" she repeated, her voice steady.

"Yes, yes. A nice glass of wine for you and me," the man replied, his entitlement evident as he placed his order.

As the exchange unfolded, whispers rippled through the sushi bar, a collective disapproval at the man's behavior.

"If she is handling it then..." Konosa trailed off, his gaze shifting to Remeshi, seeking his reaction.

Remeshi's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing at the man's disrespectful demeanor. "If he makes this hard for her," he responded tersely, his tone firm.

"Then?" Konosa prompted, but Remeshi offered no further explanation, his silent glare speaking volumes.

Meanwhile, the waitress made her way back to the counter, her steps measured as she carried out her duties. However, the man's inappropriate comments lingered in the air, casting a shadow over the otherwise cheerful atmosphere.

"Get your mother tomorrow. I will talk to her about how freaking amazing you look and that I am a well man," the man remarked crudely, his words dripping with arrogance.

The waitress flinched at his remark, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she fought to maintain her composure. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, but she swiftly wiped them away with the back of her hand, a stoic facade masking her inner turmoil.

Remeshi's resolve hardened at the sight, his empathy fueling his determination to intervene. "Then he won't get away with it," he declared, his voice carrying a quiet intensity.

Konosa glanced at him, acknowledging his unspoken determination, before attempting to defuse the situation. "Uh, no, no, no. Calm down. We can get-" he began, but Remeshi had already taken matters into his own hands.

Before Konosa could finish his sentence, Remeshi was standing before the man, his posture tense but resolute. "What do you want?" the man challenged, his tone confrontational.

"Apology," Remeshi replied evenly, his gaze unwavering as he met the man's defiant stare.

The man's lips curled into a smirk, his arrogance unyielding. "Oh? You want to fight, kid," he taunted, rising from his seat in a display of aggression.

But Remeshi remained steadfast, his request simple yet non-negotiable. "No. Just an apology will do," he insisted, his voice firm with conviction.

The tension in the air crackled with anticipation as the standoff reached its climax. The patrons of the sushi bar watched with bated breath.

Remeshi's muscles tensed as he prepared to confront the man, his breath forming a visible cloud in the tense atmosphere of the sushi bar. Without hesitation, he moved swiftly, his arm wrapping around the man's shoulders in a swift motion.

"Aah... here we go..." Konosa muttered, taking a step back to give Remeshi space to handle the escalating situation.

Before the man could react, Remeshi's momentum propelled him forward, crashing into the table with a force that shattered the delicate flower pot resting upon it. Water cascaded down, soaking the man's hair and clothes, adding insult to injury.

Anger flared in the man's eyes as he regained his footing, but before he could retaliate, Remeshi was upon him again, driving him back against the wall with a resounding thud. The man's face contorted in pain as Remeshi pressed him firmly against the unforgiving surface.

"Why don't you apologize and then we can forget and forgive," Remeshi demanded, his voice firm with determination as he held the man in place.

"It's not a bad offer, right?" he added, his grip unyielding despite the man's struggles.

The man gritted his teeth, stubbornness warring with the pain coursing through his body. "She had no problem!" he spat out, his defiance palpable.

"Don't envy me," he taunted, a defiant grin twisting his lips even as Remeshi tightened his hold.

"I don't envy people," Remeshi retorted, his resolve unwavering as he slammed the man against the wooden floor with a forceful shove.

As the commotion unfolded, Konosa watched with a mixture of concern and exasperation. "Oh gosh. What is that dummy doing? And why can't the old man just apologize..." he sighed, his frustration evident.

"He's with you, right?" one of the young waitresses inquired, her eyes flickering with curiosity.

"Yeah, a friend," Konosa confirmed, his gaze drifting back to the unfolding confrontation. "I apologize for the damage we caused you. I'm unsure if I can pay back, though..."

The waitress shrugged, her expression surprisingly understanding. "Yeah? No, that's fine. But I think we need such people. Menacie should not hold back so much and suffer," she remarked, her empathy evident.

"Right. Her name is Menacie?" Konosa clarified, his attention momentarily diverted.

"Yeah," the girl nodded, her voice soft but resolute.

"Remeshi. Her name is Menacie," Konosa interjected, his tone carrying a note of urgency.

Turning back to the scene before him, Remeshi's gaze hardened as he faced the man once more. "Apologize to Menacie. Now," he commanded, his voice brooking no argument.

But the man remained stubborn, his lips sealed tight in defiance as he refused to utter a word of apology.

"Remeshi, let it be. He isn't ready to apologize. What you're doing isn't right either," Konosa interjected, his voice a plea for reason amidst the escalating tension.

"But this isn't right, Senpai," Remeshi countered, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.

"I know. But you can't keep punching him," Konosa reasoned, his tone gentle but firm.

As the crowd gathered around them, the pressure mounted on the man to relent. "Apologize. Apologize. Apologize," the voices chorused, a united front demanding accountability.

Emboldened by the support of the patrons and staff alike, Remeshi stood his ground, his unwavering determination finally breaking through the man's stubborn resolve.

With a defeated sigh, the man knelt before Remeshi, his apology halting but sincere looking. Remeshi helped him up, guiding him to stand before the young waitress.

"Her. Apologize to her," Remeshi insisted, his voice carrying the weight of justice as he held the man accountable for his actions.

Biting his lip, the man offered his apology, his contrition palpable as he met Menacie's gaze. But before he could react, she poured the wine glass he had ordered over him, a symbolic gesture of retribution for his disrespect.

Quietly, the man paid his bill, his pride wounded but his conscience chastened by the collective outcry against his behavior. With a final bow, he exited the sushi bar, his retreat a humbled acknowledgment of his wrongdoing.

As the tension dissipated, the crowd erupted into cheers and applause.

As Menacie slipped into the backroom, her eyes caught a glint of something amiss on her apron-a clean slit, fresh and deliberate, as if it had been made with a knife. A pang of unease tightened her chest as she inspected the tear, noting a similar rip in her dress. "He must have done that while she was asking for his order," one of the girls speculated, her voice tinged with anger.

Remeshi's expression darkened at the sight of the damage. "I should have hurt him till his limbs and jaw fell off," he muttered, his frustration palpable.

"Thank you so much, Remeshi, was it?" Menacie's voice cut through the tension, her gratitude genuine despite the lingering discomfort.

"Yeah, Remeshi. Don't thank me," he replied, his tone gruff with unresolved anger.

"No, I should be thanking you. So thank you, Remeshi," Menacie insisted, her appreciation unwavering.

"You deserve some thanks too. Thank you for dealing with that trash of a human. After all, that last move was worth everything. He will never have drinks for a very long while now," Remeshi remarked, a hint of satisfaction coloring his words.

Observing Remeshi's transformation from fighter to friend, Konosa couldn't help but marvel at the duality of his companion's nature. "He's like a different person when he's fighting someone, and yet a different person otherwise," he mused silently.

"It's been three weeks since we've all been suffering like this," one of the boys interjected, breaking the somber silence.

"Three weeks?" Konosa echoed, his curiosity piqued as he continued chewing.

"Suffering?" he prodded further, his gaze shifting to Menacie as she returned, her attire changed.

Menacie sighed, her shoulders slumping with weariness. "Not only girls, it is. They torment the boys too. They walk in and beat up the boys and then harass the girls until whenever they like," she explained, her voice heavy with resignation.

She went on to recount the origin of their troubles-a debt owed by the owner of the restaurant to a supposed friend, a debt that spiraled into a cycle of abuse and exploitation as the perpetrators took advantage of their boss's illness and vulnerability.

"What's our pay?" Remeshi interrupted, his voice cutting through the grim narrative.

"It's... 25 jewels, but, uh, don't worry. The customers tipped in a lot, and there were so many of them that the amount shot up to 628 jewels," Menacie replied, a glimmer of hope amidst the despair.

"Oh?" Konosa's smile brightened at the unexpected windfall.

"Where does this friend live anyway?" Remeshi inquired, his mind already formulating a plan.

"At the corner of the streets, near the black market area. But why do you ask?" Menacie's curiosity was piqued by Remeshi's sudden interest.

"We'll give him our pay, and you can use the rest of the jewels to buy medications for the owner," Remeshi declared, his resolve unwavering.

Konosa's gaze softened as he looked at his companion. "Ah, yes, yes. Take our pay. I don't need it," he insisted, though a pang of regret tugged at his heart.

"You! Stop being such a goody two-shoes! Aaahhhh!! My pay!!! My jewels!!! Dumb Remeshi!!!" his inner voice lamented, but outwardly, he maintained a composed facade.

"But-" Menacie began, her protest cut short by Remeshi's firm resolve.

"Nope. We weren't working for the jewels anyway," Remeshi interjected, his tone final.

"True," Konosa nodded in agreement, though inwardly, he marveled at the selflessness of his friend's gesture.

"Huh?" Menacie tilted her head, her confusion evident as she tried to make sense of their actions.

"Worry not. We were only having a look around and decided to have fun working," Konosa offered, his smile strained as he struggled to justify his unconventional generosity.

The young boys and girls exchanged uncertain glances, their minds whirling with conflicting emotions.

"Then even we will use our pays to cure the master," one of the boys declared, his determination mirrored by his peers as they joined hands in solidarity, inspired by the selfless example set by Remeshi and Konosa.

"Nice. So we now are the new local valiants," Konosa whispered to Remeshi.

"Hm? There are such people here?" Remeshi quipped, his spirits lifted by the camaraderie and sense of purpose that had emerged from their collective resolve.

"No. We made history," Konosa chuckled softly.

As the boys stepped out of the restaurant, the darkness of the night enveloped them, the only illumination coming from the distant glow of streetlights. Konosa found a solitary rock by the riverbank and settled himself upon it, his gaze fixed on the gently flowing water before him. Remeshi stood beside him, the soft breeze playing with his hair, which he brushed back with a gentle motion of his hand.

"Right. But thanks to you, my pay went down the drain," Konosa remarked, a hint of resignation in his voice.

"Yeah. Sorry about that, but with their owner not being able to pay, they will always be in the dark and constantly suffer," Remeshi replied, his tone tinged with empathy.

"...you know, one of them was a noble," Konosa revealed, his voice carrying a hint of sadness.

"Noble?" Remeshi echoed, intrigued by the unexpected revelation.

"Yeah. Son of the Queen and King of his land," Konosa explained, his words heavy with the weight of regret.

"So, like you are?" Remeshi surmised, a note of curiosity in his voice.

"Similar. My father is the king of the waters, and my mother is the queen of the winds," Konosa confirmed, a hint of pride creeping into his tone.

"Huh. You are much more of a royal, then," Remeshi remarked, a touch of admiration in his voice.

"That boy took whatever money he could possibly take from the house before running away," Konosa continued, his gaze distant as he recounted the young noble's plight.

"Oh?" Remeshi's interest was piqued by the unfolding story.

"I didn't do that," Konosa asserted, a hint of defiance in his voice.

"...yeah. But I wouldn't leave my savings just like that," Remeshi mused, his thoughts drifting to the different circumstances.

"Are you being a bad influence right now? That's a rare case there," Konosa teased, a fleeting smile gracing his lips.

"Haha. But Senpai, isn't that boy's situation like yours?" Remeshi probed, his tone gentle but probing.

"No, it's not... I thought so too, but... running away is a different thing altogether. No matter what everyone says, I didn't run away. I just want everyone to know that I can be something too," Konosa confided, his voice tinged with determination.

"Something you need to prove?" Remeshi inquired, his curiosity evident as he sought to understand his friend's inner turmoil.

"Yeah. Something that I need to prove. I need them to know that I can be strong and stand next to my father on the battlefield," Konosa admitted, his vulnerability laid bare.

"Oh. I bet you will. I mean, you are amazing at combat," Remeshi remarked, a note of admiration in his voice.

"When did you even see me battle?" Konosa questioned, surprised by Remeshi's unwavering faith in him.

"The first day we met was like that, you know. You saved me," Remeshi reminded him, a fond smile gracing his lips as he recalled their initial encounter.

"Yeah. That was defense, though. But thank you so much, Remeshi, for trusting in me. I know it's hard to believe that a royal is ready to battle. But I can fight. And really well at that. I can fight not just the battles but also this stereotype where people assume royals never battle," Konosa affirmed, a newfound sense of purpose infusing his words.

"Senpai..." Remeshi's voice trailed off as he regarded the boy beside him, his heart heavy with the weight of Konosa's unspoken struggles.

"But you don't have to hide them anymore from anyone," Remeshi continued, his voice gentle but firm.

"Huh?" Konosa looked up, confusion clouding his features as he processed Remeshi's words.

"Don't hide your tears, Senpai. It's not always right to dig the pain deeper and live. You have an amazingly understanding sister, and now that we know each other, you have me as well. Don't you?" Remeshi urged, his empathy shining through his words.

Konosa glanced up at him, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears as he struggled to voice his thoughts. With a shaky breath, he clutched his dress, his gaze fixed on his feet.

"Trying to make me cry... but I won't... you know, Remeshi, since when I was young... since when that incident occurred... I never once cried... I don't know, man. It's just... it seems like I am breaking down when I cry... I don't want that..." Konosa's voice trailed off, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

Remeshi watched as tears streamed down Konosa's face, his heart aching with the weight of his friend's pain. Without a word, he reached out, gently stroking Konosa's head as the boy leaned against his legs, his sobs echoing in the quiet night.

With the wind whispering softly in their ears and the river flowing steadily beside them, Konosa let go of the pent-up emotions, allowing the tears to flow freely. As the salty tears mingled with the cool night air, a sense of release washed over him, and he felt a weight lift from his shoulders.

"Feeling better?" Remeshi inquired softly, his voice a comforting presence in the darkness.

Konosa nodded, his voice choked with emotion as he struggled to find the words to express his gratitude.

Without meeting Remeshi's eyes, Konosa rose to his feet, his resolve strengthened by their shared moment of vulnerability. With a silent nod of acknowledgment, he turned towards the sushi bar, his steps steady.

As he approached the familiar establishment, the owner greeted him with a warm smile, the weight of his borrowed troubles weighing heavily on his conscience.

As Padric, the owner of the restaurant, observed Remeshi and Konosa, his mind wandered back to a poignant memory from the past.

"Padric?" called out a familiar voice, breaking the tranquility of Padric's home.

"Yes, George," Padric responded warmly, recognizing the voice of his dear friend.

"I heard you were ill, so I made it to see you," George announced, his concern evident in his tone as he entered the room.

"Thank you, George," Padric replied, gratitude coloring his words as he greeted his friend.

"No problem. How's the restaurant coming along?" George inquired, his curiosity about Padric's business evident in his tone.

"Yeah, it's coming along fine. But it might get dissolved," Padric admitted, his expression clouding with worry.

"Yeah? Why so, Padric?" George pressed, his concern growing as he listened to Padric's explanation.

"Because I need to repair the roof, and I'll have to hire more staff and arrange the previous staff's pay as well. Our food is good, but the environment is not, and hence very few people come here to dine," Padric explained, his voice tinged with frustration.

"Hm... how much for the roof?" George pondered aloud, his mind already calculating the expenses.

"Well, it might cost me two hundred to three hundred jewels," Padric replied, his brow furrowing in consternation.

"Oh! And the food expenses should be around twenty-five?" George deduced, nodding in understanding.

"Yes, exactly. Almost four hundred jewels," Padric confirmed, a glimmer of hope flickering in his eyes.

"Yeah, and your medicine expense," George added, his concern for Padric's health evident.

"No, I don't think I need medicines anymore. I need prayers now," Padric joked lightly, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Haha. Well, let's see... five hundred jewels should do your work," George concluded, reaching into his case and producing a small pouch.

"What's that, George?" Padric inquired, his curiosity piqued by the unexpected gesture.

"Well, it's the amount of jewels we just spoke about," George explained, handing over the pouch to Padric with a smile. "This is..."

"This is five hundred jewels in total, and it will cover all your expenses. In return, stay healthy," George declared, his smile warm and genuine.

"Thank you so much, George..." Padric's voice trailed off, overwhelmed by the generosity and kindness of his friend.

As Padric counted the jewels in his hand, a sense of gratitude washed over him, mingled with a renewed determination to overcome the challenges that lay ahead. With George's support, he felt a glimmer of hope for the future of his restaurant and his own well-being.

A bittersweet smile played on his lips as he reminisced about the kindness of his friend George. However, his musings were interrupted when he turned his attention back to Remeshi and Konosa.

"You both are best friends?" Padric inquired, curiosity coloring his tone as he directed his question towards Remeshi.

"Me and Senpai?" Remeshi clarified, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"The blue-haired boy with a blue scarf and steel-rimmed glasses," Padric described.

"His name is Konosa, my Senpai," Remeshi confirmed, a fondness evident in his tone.

"Konosa Sakado," Konosa mentioned.

"Yeah, same thing," Remeshi replied with a playful grin, sticking out his tongue in jest.

"You are so...hah..." Konosa trailed off, a chuckle escaping him as he observed Remeshi's playful demeanor.

Meanwhile, Menacie, who had overheard their conversation, interjected with a question of her own. "Konosa Sakado?"

"Yeah," Remeshi affirmed, turning his attention towards Menacie.

"You are a wave descendant?" Menacie inquired, her curiosity evident in her tone as she addressed Konosa directly.

"Oh, uhm... yeah..." Konosa replied softly, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice as he glanced down at his feet, his expression somewhat bashful.

As the revelation sank in, Menacie regarded Konosa with newfound interest, her gaze lingering on him thoughtfully.

Like every other species, wave descendants also have clans to them. These two clans were Sakado and Vesso. Vesso being the highest clan.

Padric's gaze shifted between Remeshi and Konosa, curiosity evident in his eyes as he pondered their relationship.

"And you?" Menacie directed her question towards Remeshi, her curiosity piqued.

"An Argon," Remeshi replied with a smile, his tone casual yet warm.

Menacie scrutinized his face closely, her thoughts swirling as she observed him. Suddenly, she nudged the girl beside her, who immediately knelt on the floor, forming a 'V' shape with her hands over her head. Without hesitation, the rest of the group followed suit, their heads bowed in reverence.

"I swear, I doubted his face resembled someone," one of the boys whispered to another, their conversation a hushed murmur among the group.

Chatter erupted among them as they exchanged whispered speculations.

"This explains why he stood up against that man."

"He resembles the prince in every way. The hair, the eyes. I believed that the prince had survived all along."

"Could he be the prince? I mean, the prince never spoke to the commoners and always kept mum."

Their heads bowed, eyes fixed on the wooden tiles beneath them, they continued their whispered discussions until Konosa interjected.

"Hey! What are you whispering about?" Konosa's voice cut through the hushed murmurs, but none of them dared to meet his gaze or utter a word in response.

Padric, sensing their discomfort, attempted to rise from his bed, but Remeshi intervened. "No. Stay," Remeshi urged, his voice firm yet gentle.

"Don't. Don't bow to me," Remeshi admonished the bowing crowd, his tone tinged with frustration. "Who do you think I am? I am no prince.... don't call me that. Stand up, all of you. I am not royalty... sure, I don't remember anything about myself and I named myself, but I'm not who you think I am." Reluctantly, they complied, straightening up under Remeshi's command.

"Wait. You named yourself?" one of the boys asked, surprise evident in his voice.

"Huh," Remeshi glanced at Konosa, a wry smile playing on his lips. "You explained a bit too much," Konosa teased.

"Well, not only did he not know about himself, he didn't even remember his name," Konosa explained.

"Oh," the group murmured in understanding, exchanging glances as they processed the revelation.

"But since you don't remember anything about yourself, your memories are lost, isn't it possible for you to be the prince after all?" Menacie pondered aloud, her gaze lingering on Remeshi with newfound curiosity.

"Even so. Even if I am the prince, I don't expect you all to bow to me like that..." Remeshi trailed off, his tone softening as he addressed the group.

"We are sorry, Remeshi," Menacie apologized, her voice sincere as she acknowledged their mistake.

"I apologize as well," Remeshi bowed in return, a gesture of humility and understanding.

"But we won't be able to forget you guys," Menacie added, her eyes twinkling with gratitude and warmth.

"Huh?" Konosa glanced away from her, feeling a bit self-conscious under her gaze.

"This looks weird now," he whispered to Remeshi, a hint of amusement in his tone.

"How you helped me, Remeshi. No one has ever tried to do such a thing. Everyone feared them, including me, because they were truly terrifying. The way you fought that man showed us that there is always a way for things to be done and to overcome. Though the best part."

"I would have turned him into a scarf but that again. You were brave too," Remeshi acknowledged with a smile, his eyes reflecting genuine appreciation.

"You are courageous and funny in your own way, Remeshi," Menacie giggled, her words filled with affection and admiration.

"So you both plan to take down those men?" Menacie inquired, her curiosity piqued by their conversation.

"We will just go hand over the jewels," Remeshi replied, his tone pragmatic yet determined.

"But no assurance that they won't piss us off," Konosa added with a hint of sarcasm, his eyes glinting mischievously.

"If they do, they will be done for," one of the boys chimed in, his voice filled with confidence and bravado.

"Yeah. These guys are wild," another boy snickered, echoing the sentiment.

"I don't know. Now what can I say. We can't stand the fact that someone is in trouble," Konosa boasted, though inwardly he wished for peace and tranquility.

"There. Let me have your spotlight. The first step to not being antisocial," Konosa whispered in Remeshi's ear, a playful smirk on his lips.

"Really? You may have it all, Senpai," Remeshi replied with excitement, his eyes shining with anticipation.

Konosa leaned back against the rough wooden wall, his muscles tense with anticipation. He glanced over at Remeshi, who stood beside him, his expression a mix of determination and nervous energy. The air was thick with tension as they awaited their next move.

"What are you talking about?" one of the girls asked, breaking the silence that hung heavy in the dimly lit room.

"Nothing," Konosa replied curtly, his voice tight with emotion. He sank down onto a nearby crate, his mind racing with thoughts of what lay ahead.

"Tomorrow morning we will leave for their hideout," Remeshi announced, his voice steady despite the gravity of their situation.

Konosa absentmindedly weighed the money pouch in his hands, the weight of their mission pressing heavily upon him. "That should cover your entire medical expenses," Remeshi said to the owner, his tone solemn.

"Yeah," Konosa sighed, a hint of weariness in his voice as he contemplated the challenges that lay ahead.

Padric's smile was warm and reassuring as he spoke. "Thank you so much. You will both become amazing magical sword masters."

Konosa's heart swelled with pride at Padric's words, a bittersweet reminder of the bond they shared. "You both will become amazing magical sword masters," he echoed silently in his mind, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

As Padric coughed, Konosa's resolve hardened. "Mister, learn to take care of yourself," he said firmly, handing over the money pouch with a sense of finality.

"Thank you so much," Padric murmured gratefully, his voice hoarse with emotion.

With a muttered oath, Konosa turned to leave, the weight of their mission heavy upon his shoulders. "Come on, Remeshi," he said, his voice low and urgent. "We have to go straighten up some terrorists tomorrow. Let's get all the rest we can."

Remeshi's voice was soft as he spoke, a note of secrecy in his tone. "Hey, Menacie. This is a little secret between you and me, okay?" he said, handing her a small red box.

Curiosity sparked in Menacie's eyes as she examined the box, her brow furrowing in confusion. "What is this?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

"A mere hundred jewels for the owner and you all is not enough," Remeshi explained, his voice earnest. "Let that be for him."

"And?" Menacie prompted, her gaze flickering to Remeshi inquisitively.

"And take these for yourselves," Remeshi continued, a hint of mischief in his tone.

Menacie's eyes widened in disbelief as she took in the contents of the box. "What? Where'd you get this from?" she exclaimed, her voice filled with astonishment.

"When I lay there on the sand under the hot sun, I felt this box in my pocket," Remeshi explained, his words tinged with nostalgia. "I just checked it though."

"But it wasn't your fault," Menacie protested, her voice soft with sympathy.

Remeshi smiled, a warmth spreading through his chest at her words. "You know me now. And we are friends. Friends help each other, right?" he said, his tone gentle. "Plus, it isn't for free. Pay me with a good breakfast," he added with a playful grin.

"Sure...thank you..." Menacie murmured, her voice filled with gratitude as she accepted the gift.

With a bow, Remeshi turned to follow Konosa, who was waiting for him at the door. "Oh my god... This must be over thirty thousand jewels..." Menacie gasped, her eyes widening in disbelief as she counted the jewels in the box.

Konosa's thoughts swirled with a mixture of emotions as he watched the exchange, a sense of pride mingling with a tinge of guilt. "We became good guys who get rid of bandits," he thought.

"Tch," Konosa muttered under his breath, a sense of frustration gnawing at his insides.

"Senpai, should we not inform your sister?" Remeshi asked, his voice tinged with concern.

"Not necessarily needed," Konosa replied, his tone thoughtful. "She is smart enough to judge both you and me," he added, his thoughts turning to his sister with a mix of pride and protectiveness.

"Okay," Remeshi saluted, his expression one of determination.

A playful banter erupted between Konosa and Remeshi, their words laced with affection and camaraderie.

"Senpai, thank you," Remeshi said softly, his voice filled with genuine appreciation.

Konosa's chest tightened at Remeshi's words, a pang of guilt coursing through him. "Thank you for helping me out," Remeshi continued, his voice earnest. "I don't wish to be an Argon who is arrogant and cares about no one. I don't like being a person like that. I would never want to be, in fact."

Remeshi's throat tightened with emotion at his own confession, a lump forming in his throat. "Never," he managed to choke out, his voice hoarse with emotion.

Before Konosa could respond further, a deafening crash echoed through the room as the wall on their left burst open, sending shards of wood flying through the air. Instinctively, they covered their faces with their hands, the acrid smell of dust filling their nostrils.

Konosa squeezed his eyes shut as Remeshi's coughing filled the air, the sound ringing in his ears like a painful reminder of the dangers that lurked around them. As the dust settled, Konosa's heart raced with adrenaline.

The air crackled with tension as the group of girls and boys from Padric's room rushed out into the corridor, their voices mingling with the sound of their footsteps echoing off the walls. Menacie's concern hung in the air like a heavy fog, the dust beginning to clear as the silhouette of a group of people emerged into view.

As the figures came into focus, Remeshi's heart lurched in recognition. His gaze fixed on a familiar face amidst the chaos. "Hey! You're from back then," Remeshi spat out, his teeth clenched in a mixture of anger and defiance.

The wounded man pointed accusingly at Remeshi, his black eye a stark reminder of their past altercation. Konosa's grip tightened on his sword as he watched the scene unfold, a sense of unease settling over him like a suffocating blanket.

"We weren't expecting you to come here on your own," Konosa muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. The master of these bandits, George - his glare bore into Remeshi, his imposing figure casting a long shadow over the corridor.

With a menacing step forward, George loomed over Remeshi, his presence suffocating. Remeshi's hand instinctively went to his sword, his muscles coiled with tension. But before he could react, George vanished before his eyes, leaving Remeshi momentarily stunned.

A second figure, Hyoishi stepped forward, his emerald green eyes locking onto Konosa with a predatory gleam. Unlike George, he lacked the imposing stature, but there was a dangerous aura about him that sent a shiver down Konosa's spine. He brandished two gleaming knives, his grin sending a chill down Konosa's spine.

With a swift motion, Konosa unsheathed his sword, the metal singing as it clashed against Hyoishi's knives. The corridor rang with the sound of their battle, the clash of metal echoing off the walls.

Meanwhile, chaos erupted around them as George's group clashed with the other boys and girls in the corridor. Waiters rushed to Padric's room, desperate to protect their owner from the escalating violence.

A chill ran down Remeshi's spine as he felt a presence behind him. With lightning speed, he whirled around, sword at the ready. But it was too late. George was upon him, his fist crashing into Remeshi's stomach with bone-crushing force.

Pain exploded through Remeshi's body as he was sent hurtling into the wall, the breath knocked from his lungs. He struggled to rise, his vision swimming with agony as George loomed over him once more.

With a savage blow, George struck again, his fist driving into Remeshi's stomach with brutal force. Remeshi gagged, the taste of blood filling his mouth as he fought to push George away.

Grimacing in agony, Remeshi gripped his sword tightly, desperation lending strength to his weary limbs. "Shouldn't you at least ask your beloved why I beat him up?" he gasped, his voice barely above a whisper.

But George remained silent, his eyes fixed on Remeshi with a cold intensity that sent a shiver down Remeshi's spine.

The clash of steel filled the air as Konosa's blade sliced through the space with deadly precision, forcing Hyoishi back with each powerful stroke. Cheers erupted from the onlookers, their voices a chorus of awe and admiration for Konosa's prowess.

"You lay a finger on the people who acknowledge me and see what happens to you," Konosa declared, his voice a low growl of warning.

Hyoishi's eyes narrowed in response, a glint of defiance flickering in their depths. "Wave descendant," he muttered, his voice tinged with both respect and disdain.

Confusion flashed across Konosa's features at the cryptic words, but before he could question further, Hyoishi launched himself forward with blinding speed. Konosa danced around him in a blur of motion, his movements a symphony of grace and power.

A vortex of blue light enveloped the room as Konosa raced around Hyoishi, his speed unmatched by any mortal. The air crackled with electricity as Konosa's sword flashed, leaving a trail of wounds in its wake.

"Woah! Senpai is so cool," Remeshi exclaimed, his eyes wide with admiration as he watched the spectacle unfold.

Meanwhile, George advanced toward Remeshi with a menacing glint in his eye, his fists clenched in anticipation. With a swift leap, Remeshi soared through the air, his sword connecting with George's head with a sickening thud. George staggered backward, his massive frame shaking off the blow with surprising resilience.

The two opponents clashed once more, their swords ringing out in a symphony of violence. George's weapon, adorned with sharp, needle-like protrusions, gleamed with deadly intent as it clashed against Remeshi's own blade.

With a grunt of effort, George unleashed a devastating blow, sending Remeshi reeling backward. But the young swordsman refused to yield, his determination burning bright in his eyes.

"That's enough, alright," George muttered, his voice thick with exertion as he pushed Remeshi back against the wall.

But Remeshi refused to back down, his resolve unshakable. With a fierce battle cry, he leaped forward, his sword flashing in the dim light. With lightning speed, he drove the blade through George's arm, pinning him against the wooden wall with a sickening crunch.

Wave descendants use both wind and water elements. While the water element has it's own cons using the wind element for extreme moves comes in with a lot of disadvantages. Once moving in a constant flow if the user were to break the flow he'll need to have complete control of the wind currents around. If not the break in the flow might lead to a crash land coming in with a lot of injuries at times which can be fatal.

Menacie's fingers danced nervously, her gaze flitting between the swirling blue light and the chaos unfolding before her. "He's been running around like that. I hope he's alright," she murmured, her voice tinged with concern as she watched Konosa's relentless dash.

Konosa's brow furrowed with worry as he observed the scene, a sense of urgency gnawing at his insides. "Enough, Remeshi was it? I've had enough of you," George growled, his voice dripping with malice as he advanced toward Remeshi.

With a swift motion, George seized Remeshi's arm, hurling him against the hard tiles with brutal force. Remeshi winced as George's heavy boot pressed down on his head, the weight of the man bearing down on him like a suffocating weight.

"Remeshi, a five-rank sword master is like a defending soldier. You can't defeat me that easily," George taunted, his voice laced with contempt.

"Remeshi, stand up, idiot! You were doing well a while ago," Konosa called out, his voice tinged with urgency. But the odds seemed insurmountable against a foe of George's caliber.

"I could have, but he's really heavy," Remeshi replied through gritted teeth, struggling to rise against George's overwhelming strength.

"Push him, meathead," Konosa urged, his tone edged with frustration.

With a snap of his fingers, Remeshi summoned his sword, his movements quick and precise despite the overwhelming odds. He forced a swing under George's feet, the big man lifting his feet in response. In a split second, Remeshi seized the opportunity, leaping to his feet and driving his sword through the same arm he had wounded earlier.

"You plan on killing me, Remeshi?" George growled, gripping his sword tightly as he stared down his adversary.

But instead of a reply, Remeshi twisted his sword within George's arm, eliciting a pained grunt from the formidable foe. Their swords clashed once more, the sound of steel ringing out in the confined space as they danced around each other in a deadly dance of blades.

"What are you doing, meathead? We don't have the whole day," Konosa called out, his voice urgent.

"Yeah, Senpai. I just needed a flow to work with it. It should work now," Remeshi replied, his voice determined as he focused on his opponent.

With a determined stance, Remeshi surged forward, his movements fluid and unpredictable. George struggled to keep up with Remeshi's lightning-fast strikes, his sword clashing against empty air as Remeshi's blade seemed to vanish before his eyes.

A golden, blinding light erupted from Remeshi's sword, casting a dazzling glow across the room. Konosa smirked with satisfaction as he leaped down from the ceiling, landing a decisive blow on Hyoishi's unsuspecting form.

With a sickening thud, Hyoishi crashed to the ground, blood oozing from his wounds as he struggled to rise. "This is all I can do," Konosa declared, his voice heavy with exhaustion as he watched George's form slump against the wall.

Two waiters rushed forward, gently lifting Konosa and laying him against the wall, his once formidable presence reduced to a mere shadow of its former self.

Menacie's hands trembled as she gripped her sword, determination etched into her features despite her obvious nervousness. "I will try as well," she declared, her voice wavering with uncertainty as she swung her blade around the room with no specific aim, her movements more desperate than calculated. "Begone!"

The men jumped back in surprise, their expressions a mix of confusion and amusement at Menacie's futile attempt to join the fray. "This is a waste of time. Let's get rid of them and then take over this restaurant," one of them suggested, his voice dripping with contempt.

Konosa's heart sank as he watched Menacie's valiant but ineffective effort, his mind racing with a sense of urgency. "Oh no. I know she's trying her best, but..." he began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find a solution to their predicament.

With trembling legs, Konosa rose to his feet, his body still reeling from the crash he had taken earlier. He gripped his sword tightly, determination burning bright in his eyes as he took a shaky step forward.

"If I can somehow manage for now... there are only seven of them left... just manage a full swing. One swing should be enough," Konosa thought, his mind racing with the desperate hope of turning the tide in their favor.

With a grimace, Konosa swung his sword in a half strike, the force of his blow pushing the men back momentarily.

"He was the one who was going around running. What gives?" one of them questioned, his confusion evident in his tone.

Konosa winced, his legs trembling beneath him as doubt crept into his mind. "My legs aren't helping at all. I can't give a full swing if I can't even take a proper stance," he thought, frustration gnawing at his resolve.

But before Konosa could dwell further on his limitations, Remeshi leaped into action, striking a harsh blow against George's cheek before rushing to Konosa's aid. With a swift motion, Remeshi summoned a blinding golden light from his sword that weakened the group, causing them to falter back in confusion.

As George slumped against the floor, blood seeping from his wounds, Remeshi approached him with purpose, pulling out the money pouch from his Hakama's pocket and tossing it in front of George's eyes.

"The whole place is gone down in shatters because of you," Remeshi declared, his voice firm with resolve.

"You are the one who destroyed it," George retorted, his voice thick with bitterness.

"Very well, sir. I shall pay for the damages. From my salary," Remeshi replied calmly, emptying half the pouch onto the floor before George.

With a determined stance, Padric rose to his feet, his eyes filled with tears as he addressed George. "Why?" he pleaded, his voice choked with emotion.

But George's response was cut short as Remeshi delivered a sharp slap across his cheek, the sound echoing in the tense silence of the room. "That's just one. Listen carefully," Remeshi began, his tone firm but compassionate. "We are not bad people. He took a certain amount from you and paid you with what you asked. I don't know what changed your mind and made you this way, but you came in breaking the wall, those three days of pay turned into three weeks of torture and what not. Please remember that they have a life to live as well."

As George bowed his head in shame, Padric's tears flowed freely, his heart heavy with the weight of betrayal. "You made him cry," Remeshi said softly, his voice tinged with sadness.

But Remeshi's words seemed to strike a chord with George, as he bowed his head in shame. "Padric, the underworld is not a pleasant place. I am in no place to explain my story, but... the downtown hunters visited my store some time back. After I gave you the jewels, he asked me to run down the Sushi bar. I was in no place to argue with him either. And then this happened..."

But before George could finish, Remeshi delivered another stinging blow to his cheek, his frustration boiling over. "And what, Sir George? That gives you the ticket to mess around with a sick man, let alone your friend?" Remeshi demanded, his voice laced with anger. "The day you lose him, you'll regret it all. Imagine if you forget your best friend, who seems to be the only one who believes and trusts you. What will you do then? You'll remain empty and hollow for the rest of your life."