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✦ 𝓗𝓸𝔀 𝓭𝓲𝓭 𝓘 𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝓱𝓲𝓼
𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓮 𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓷𝓪𝓲𝓵 𝓹𝓸𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓱? ✦

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Huan's stomach churned with unease as they approached the gates. The air was thick with spiritual energy, prickling at his senses and leaving an irritating buzz beneath his ribs where his golden core stirred restlessly. He tried to suppress it, keeping his face neutral. Earlier at lunch, he'd felt Jimin's gaze linger too long, the subtle tilt of his head suggesting curiosity—no, suspicion. Huan had scrambled to keep the conversation flowing, steering Jimin away from any direct questions about his core.

Now, his worries extended to Akira, who always seemed perceptive in his quiet way. But Huan pushed the thought aside. He'd deal with it all later—so long as the Chen clan remained unaware of his presence here, he'd be fine.

The gates groaned as they swung open, the group of students stepping forward. A sudden roar shattered the air, and chaos erupted. Without hesitation, the students scattered, instincts overriding coordination. Huan instinctively turned toward Marcus, seeking familiarity, but a firm grip on his wrist yanked him in the opposite direction.

Huan stumbled after him, his pulse quickening. They ducked behind the crumbled remains of a building. Akira scanned their surroundings, alert and silent.

"Do you have a plan?" Huan asked, pulling his wrist free.

Akira blinked, realizing he was still holding on. "Oh. Sorry."

"It's fine," Huan replied quickly.

Akira tilted his head toward the wall. "There's a youkai right behind here." He said it so bluntly, as if Huan should have already known.

"Thanks for telling me," Huan replied in a hushed voice, smiling to mask his frustration. "You should have probably told me before you brought me here, but I guess this will work too."

Through a gaping hole in the wall beside him, Huan peeked and saw the youkai. These weren't real demons but little micronano bots made using nanotech, tiny robots forming the illusion of a youkai. Huan glanced back to share a plan, but Akira was already gone.

Moments later, the creature's head fell with a heavy thud. Akira stood over it, katana in hand. He looked up. "Oh, sorry. Did you want to kill it?"

Huan sighed. "No, it's fine. Nice work, but next time, let's coordinate, okay?"

"Right. Sorry," Akira said, bowing slightly.

Huan rubbed his temple. "Let's just keep moving."

The youkai disintegrated into a swarm of nanobots and flew off. They pressed on, tracking more creatures. Huan managed to take down a couple of Taoties—grotesque goat-like monsters with human faces. Akira was efficient, cutting down one after another without hesitation.

By the end, Huan felt both impressed and exasperated. Working with Akira was going to take some getting used to.

Akira was skilled, no doubt about it, but teamwork clearly wasn't his thing. Not that he seemed to need it. Huan felt like his main contribution so far was just checking their ranking on his datapad. To his surprise, they were already in the top ten within an hour.

Impressive, he thought. How many had Akira taken down?

"Where are we on the leaderboard?" Akira's voice cut through Huan's thoughts, startling him.

"Sixth place," Huan replied, glancing up.

"Not good enough," Akira muttered, more to himself than Huan. "Who's ahead of us?"

Huan skimmed the rankings. "Sanji and Marcus, Zhao Zhan and Justin."

"We need to move faster," Akira said, already striding ahead.

Huan trailed behind, guilt creeping in. "Sorry... I know I'm not much help."

Akira stopped and turned, his usual stoic expression faltering for a moment. "You're not holding me back," he said, his tone awkward. "Don't apologize."

Huan blinked, noticing the faint pink on Akira's ears. Was he blushing?

"Let's keep going," Akira said quickly, turning away.

Before Huan could reply, his datapad pinged an alert. At the same time, Akira froze, his body tense. Something was nearby.

The ground shook, and a screech pierced the air. Huan barely had time to react before Akira grabbed his arm, pulling him behind a crumbling wall. When Akira let go, his hand lingered for a second too long before he mumbled, "Sorry."

Huan peeked around the corner. "That's... big." The creature was an Oni—easily twice the size of the Taoties they had faced. Its red, mottled skin glistened in the fading sunlight, and its jagged teeth glimmered as it tossed cars aside like toys. The black pits of its eyes radiated pure malice.

"How many points do you think it's worth?" Akira asked, calm as ever.

"Enough," Huan muttered, gripping his power gun tighter.

"I'll go for its legs," Akira said. "You finish it off."

Huan exhaled, nodding. "Got it."

Akira moved like a shadow, circling the Oni with quiet precision. Huan climbed onto a nearby building, positioning himself for a clear shot. Akira struck first, his katana flashing as it slashed through the Oni's thick leg. The creature roared, collapsing onto one knee.

Huan fired at its head, but the blast only seemed to enrage it. The Oni swung wildly, its massive arm nearly catching Akira, who dodged with ease and delivered another slash to its other leg. The beast fell forward, dragging itself toward Huan with surprising speed.

Huan charged his weapon, aiming for the Oni's neck, but its thick hide deflected the shot. "Damn it," he muttered.

Akira leapt onto the Oni's back, driving his blade into the base of its neck. The creature thrashed, but Akira held on, twisting the katana deeper.

"Now!" Akira shouted.

Huan didn't hesitate. He fired a fully charged blast at the Oni's exposed neck. The energy beam hit its mark, severing the head cleanly. The creature let out a final, guttural roar before collapsing with a thunderous crash.

Akira landed beside Huan as the dust settled, barely out of breath. He pulled off his mask, revealing his sharp features illuminated by the golden glow of the setting sun. His long black hair, tied with a red ribbon, swayed in the gentle breeze.

Huan stared for a moment, his chest tightening. Akira carried himself with that same quiet authority; he was indeed a young master of the Fujisawa clan. Huan glanced away, his chest tightening as he compared Akira's smooth, flowing hair to his own. If things had been different—if his father hadn't disowned him—maybe he'd still have that same kind of confidence, that same sense of belonging.

"Check the leaderboard," Akira said, slipping his mask back into place.

Huan glanced at the datapad on his wrist. "We're fourth now."

"Not bad," Akira murmured. "But we can do better. Let's keep going."

All afternoon, they hunted Yin-creatures. Akira was tireless, moving through the ruins like he was born for this. He never slowed, never paused—not even for a sip of water. Meanwhile, Huan was struggling to keep up. His suit's cooling system seemed to be on strike, and the heat inside was unbearable. Sweat trickled down his back, and his legs felt heavier with every step.

By the time the sun began to set, frustration gnawed at him. He should've recalibrated the suit before the exam. Why hadn't he done it? Now he was paying the price.

"You okay?" Akira's voice cut through his thoughts.

Huan glanced up to find Akira watching him, the clan symbol on his nagagi catching the last rays of sunlight. The mask made his face unreadable, and for a moment, he looked almost eerie.

Sensing Huan's discomfort, Akira removed the mask. His face was flushed from exertion, but he looked calm. His expression, though neutral, softened slightly. "You're tired. Let's take a break."

Relieved, Huan nodded. "Yeah... I could use one."

They found a quiet corner in the ruins and sat down. Huan leaned back against a cracked wall, letting his eyes drift shut. The silence was a welcome change from the chaos of their hunt.

"You did well today," Akira said after a moment, his voice quieter than usual.

Huan opened his eyes to see Akira gazing at the horizon. The sunset painted his sharp features in shades of gold and red, making him look even more like the young master he resembled.

"Thanks," Huan said, feeling a little lighter. "You too."

Akira turned to him, and for a split second, Huan thought he saw the hint of a smile. "We make a good team."

Huan smiled back, this one not forced or self-conscious but real. "Yeah, we do."

"Could you check the leaderboard?"

"Sure..." Huan checked the datapad on his wrist, his heart racing. "Hey, we're in second place!"

"Who's above us?" Akira asked, his tone calm but curious.

Huan's stomach twisted as the name appeared. "Chen Xian," he muttered, the words bitter on his tongue. Chen Xian, Chen Zixin's cousin, and a direct member of the Chen clan's head family. Of all people, it had to be him. Why not someone else—Zhao Zhan, or even a stranger? Anyone but him.

Fear and anger churned in Huan's chest. The Chen family was skilled, that much was obvious now, but seeing their name above his felt like a personal slap. And if they stayed in second place, he'd have to face them during the ceremony. There would be no hiding, no escape from the scrutiny. He had always known this day would come, but he had hoped it would be later. Much later.

Huan clenched his fist, forcing a smile to mask his turmoil. He glanced at Akira, who seemed unbothered, his expression as composed as ever. Of course Akira would be good at this—he was strong, talented, and relentlessly disciplined. Huan didn't want to hold him back.

But he couldn't stand the thought of being second to Chen Xian. "We should be first," he said, his voice sharper than he intended.

Akira blinked, slightly confused. "But you're tired."

"Not anymore," Huan replied quickly, his determination outweighing his fatigue.

Akira studied him for a moment. "Is it Eddie?" he asked, glancing at the name beside Chen Xian's.

Huan shook his head. Eddie was kind and unassuming; he had no quarrel with him. But explaining the depth of his resentment for the Chen clan wasn't something he was ready to do. "No. It's just... why settle for second when we can be first?" He forced a grin, channeling his charm to deflect the question.

Akira seemed to accept that, nodding thoughtfully. "Fair."

They moved back into the ruins, and Huan's anger burned like fuel, pushing him forward. He fired his power gun with precision, his movements driven by spite and sheer will. Akira was a blur beside him, his katana slicing through the Yin-creatures with practiced ease. Together, they were relentless, cutting down every shadowed figure that crossed their path.

Huan's muscles screamed in protest, his lungs burning with every breath, but he pressed on. He couldn't stop—not until they were first. Each kill brought him closer to that goal, each victory a step away from the humiliation of second place.

The leaderboard pinged again, the sound sharp in the tense air. Huan glanced down, his heart hammering. "We're closing in on first," he called, his voice strained but triumphant.

Akira nodded, his gaze steady. "A few more."

They pushed harder, their teamwork seamless. Huan covered Akira's blind spots, and Akira protected him when his aim faltered. Despite his exhaustion, Huan felt a surge of pride watching Akira—calm, efficient, and utterly unshaken. It was inspiring, even as his own energy waned.

Finally, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Huan landed the final blow on a Yin-creature. He stumbled back, leaning against a crumbled wall, his chest heaving. Akira stood beside him, composed as ever, though a light sheen of sweat glistened on his brow.

The datapad beeped again. Huan checked it with trembling hands. "We're first," he whispered, relief washing over him.

Akira glanced at the screen, then at Huan. A faint smile tugged at his lips. "Good job."

Huan let out a breathless laugh, the tension finally releasing. "We did it."

For a moment, they stood in silence, the ruins around them bathed in the soft glow of dusk. Despite the ache in his body, Huan felt lighter. For now, they were on top—and that was enough.

They sat in silence, catching their breath. The ruins around them glowed in the warm light of the setting sun, the moment strangely peaceful despite everything. Huan let himself relax for a second, feeling like they'd actually won—for now, at least.

A sharp beep from Huan's datapad shattered the tranquility. A countdown flashed on the screen, along with bold letters: "PROCEED TO YOUR GATE FOR: SURVIVAL MODE."

"What now?!" Huan groaned, flopping back against the cracked wall.

Akira leaned over, his calm expression unshaken. "It means we need to move," he said, already standing up like they hadn't just spent the last hour sprinting for their lives.

Huan eyed him incredulously. His legs felt like jelly, and his body refused to cooperate. He traced a finger across the dusty toe of his boot, pouting slightly. "I can't. My legs have officially quit."

Akira tilted his head, considering. "Do you want me to carry you?" he asked, completely serious.

Huan's face went up in flames. "Absolutely not!" He scrambled upright, ignoring the way his legs screamed in protest. "I'm fine!"

Akira blinked at him, unfazed. "You're confusing."

"Excuse me?!" Huan glared at him, feeling simultaneously offended and flustered. If anyone was confusing, it was Akira, with his unreadable face and frustrating calmness. Determined not to let him win, Huan forced himself to march forward, though each step felt like an eternity of suffering.

Akira followed closely behind, his tone softening. "Did I say something wrong? If I upset you, I apologize..."

Huan stopped, sighing. Akira hadn't done anything wrong—he was just being too... Akira. "No, you didn't. I'm just—"

"Hungry?" Akira offered, his expression as serene as ever. "Most people get cranky when they're hungry."

Huan blinked at him, torn between exasperation and amusement. "Yeah," he admitted with a laugh he couldn't quite hold back. "I'm starving."

As they trudged toward the gate, the crumbling ruins blurred into the background. Huan's legs felt like lead, each step a monumental effort. The breeze, meant to be refreshing, now seemed to mock him. Meanwhile, Akira moved like he was taking a stroll in the park, his posture annoyingly perfect.

The glowing gates finally came into view, and Huan almost cried with relief. Just a little further and—

A deafening siren blared. Huan froze as the sky darkened, millions of tiny robots swarming into view. They clumped together, shifting and twisting into grotesque rainbow-colored bulls, each the size of a small building.

Huan's jaw dropped. "Oh, come on!"

The announcement that followed didn't help. "Run and escape with your PARTNER while the gates are open, or lose all your points! Don't worry, assistance will be provided for stragglers."

"Assistance?!" Huan snapped. "They mean death, don't they?!"

Huan barely had time to process the announcement before Akira grabbed his wrist and took off running. "Come on!" Akira said, his tone unusually urgent.

Huan stumbled along, his legs feeling like jelly. "I'm trying! Not all of us are built like—ow!" His foot caught on a chunk of rubble, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Akira stopped immediately and crouched beside him. "Are you okay?"

Huan rubbed his nose, glaring at the offending rock. "Perfect. Just perfect."

Before Akira could respond, a familiar figure streaked past, standing on a spiritual sword. Huan froze as he caught sight of Chen Xian, his robes fluttering in the wind, his expression calm and focused. For a brief moment, she eyes met, and Huan felt a pang of something he couldn't quite place.

"Do you trust me?" Akira's voice broke through his thoughts.

"What?" Huan blinked, snapping back to the chaos around them.

Akira pointed at the cultivators zooming through the air, the gates in the distance, and the rainbow-colored robotic bulls barreling closer. "Do you trust me?" he repeated.

Huan hesitated for half a second, then nodded. "Yeah, I trust you."

Without another word, Akira pulled his mask over his face, stepped closer, and—before Huan could protest—wrapped an arm firmly around his waist. Huan's brain short-circuited. "Wait, what are you—"

A swirl of sakura petals erupted around them, and the world shifted. One moment, Huan was standing; the next, he felt weightless, as if the breeze itself had picked him up. Akira's grip was steady, but Huan's mind raced. By the time the petals dissipated, they were standing safely beside the gates, which were now inching shut.

Huan staggered slightly as Akira let go, petals still clinging to his clothes. He stared at Akira, then back at the gates, where other cultivators zoomed through at the last second.

"That was..." Huan trailed off, unsure how to describe what had just happened.

"Efficient," Akira said simply, brushing off a stray petal.

Huan gave him an incredulous look. "Efficient? You just turned me into a sakura smoothie, and that's all you have to say?"

Akira tilted his head, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Would you prefer I leave you next time?"

Huan opened his mouth, then closed it again, his cheeks burning. He looked away, muttering, "You could've at least warned me."

He steadied himself beside Akira, his eyes darting to the glowing gates. Through the rush of students and chaos of battle, his attention was caught by a sleek, undulating shape slipping through the gate—a glistening pool of water in the shape of a shark fin, gliding across the ground with uncanny speed. The water rippled and shimmered before re-forming into Sanji, his ethereal figure solidifying as though he'd emerged directly from the droplets.

Beside him, Marcus tumbled out, landing with a wet thud and skidding across the smooth floor. He groaned, brushing himself off, his annoyance plain. "Dude... why did you throw me?"

Sanji shrugged nonchalantly, offering Marcus a hand. "What did you expect me to do? Cradle you like a dansal in distress? I only have two hands."

"No," Marcus grumbled, wincing as he stood. "But something safer would've been nice. My joints are screaming."

"Well, duh," Sanji replied with a laugh, unbothered. "That's what happens in transformation techniques—it's disjointing by design."

Huan, overhearing this, instinctively flexed his wrists and rotated his shoulders, half-horrified at the thought of his body being pulled apart and reassembled.

Akira tapped him on the shoulder, breaking his train of thought. "You have good joints," he said bluntly, offering no further explanation.

"...Thanks?" Huan replied, utterly unsure of how to process the comment.

More students rushed through the gates, their desperation palpable as the ominous red eyes of the youkai bore down on them. The shimmering rainbow bulls thundered closer, their metallic bodies tearing apart the terrain.

Suddenly, a striking figure zipped by on a spiritual sword. Chen Xian, his light blue yishang hanfu fluttering elegantly in the wind, didn't spare a glance at those struggling on foot. With a single fluid motion, he sliced through a charging youkai, the blade of his sword leaving a glowing trail of qi behind. The creature dissolved into harmless fragments, but Chen Xian didn't linger—he vanished through the gates.

Huan felt a twinge of irritation. Show-off.

Before the gates could fully close, a Siddha student shoved his hands against them, keeping the barrier open with sheer strength. "Aye!" he shouted in Marathi, his voice echoing.

An android stationed nearby translated his words into Mandarin: "Are we allowed to keep the gate open if we're the ones holding it?"

"You are," the android replied calmly.

A tech student dove through the gap just as the Siddha released his hold. Huan recognized him as Michael, the only person in his language class who had voluntarily mastered Marathi. Michael gave the Siddha a thumbs-up and said something in Marathi that sounded like thanks.

The gates slammed shut with a resounding thud. Many students were left behind, but at least they wouldn't die. They had failed, though, along with any cultural students who hadn't escaped with their partners. Teamwork was everything.

Huan let out a long sigh, relief mixing with fatigue. "We made it," he muttered, the adrenaline finally ebbing.

Just then, he noticed something odd about Akira's hand. His nails were painted matte red, the finish sleek and precise.

How did I not see that?

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