2 and a half months have passed since Erika and Dakota enrolled in the Hunter Academy. They've reached the midway mark of the semester, which means a certain exam is coming up.
Austin: "How're your test scores, Dakota?"
Dakota: "Hm? I'd say they're average."
These two are currently in their dorm room after another long day. Someone has to be the bearer of bad news, so Austin took that role upon himself.
Austin: "Average on regular tests doesn't bode well for the midterms."
Dakota: "Oh, it's about that time."
Austin: "Listen well sapling, you absolutely do NOT want to take supplemental lessons. On top of continuing your current classes, it'll be hell."
Dakota: "Are the midterms that hard?"
Austin: "Yeah, and the finals are harder. In our first year, Remi failed one of her midterms, and it was not pretty. There's even been horror stories about them."
Dakota: "I know you're exaggerating."
Austin jumps up and lunges toward Dakota: "This is no joke. It's life… or DEATH."
Dakota: "Your breath smells like garlic."
Austin stands up smelling his breath: "Does it?"
Dakota: "Yes."
Austin: "Wow, it does. Anyway, I'm serious, Dakota."
Dakota: "Alright, alright. I'll make sure to study hard."
Austin: "You'd better."
In another dorm room, a similar situation was transpiring.
Erika: "Are midterms that hard?"
Esmarie: "They're hell. And if you have to take supplemental lessons like I did before, it's a punishment worse than death."
Erika: "You're exaggerating."
Esmarie: "Yeah, but it is super hard. And I fear I might be taking supplemental lessons again."
Erika: "Not on my watch."
Esmarie: "E-Erika, you'll help me?"
Erika: "Of course! In fact, I think we should have a study group with the others."
Esmarie: "Sounds like fun."
Erika: "Not too much fun though, we have to study," she affirms while pointing her finger.
Esmarie: "Haha.. Yep, can't have too much fun."
***
Emelio: "Today, you shall take your midterm assessment! The grand Duo Sword Dance!"
Mike: "Hey, isn't this a week early?"
Emelio: "Fear not, I wouldn't test you on something you're not ready for. I suspect all of you will pass with flying colors."
Mike: "Well, you're the teacher."
Emelio: "This sacred event shall test not only your technique and precision, but your harmony, your poise, and your beauty!"
Dakota leaned toward Shinatsu, whispering: "Every sentence he says sound like it belongs in a perfume commercial."
Shinatsu lets out a laugh: "Pfff. Good one."
Emelio clapped once, sending a flourish of glitter from his sleeves: "Each pair shall choreograph a short performance blending swordsmanship and grace, duel that is also a dance! You will be graded on rhythm, form, coordination, and soul!"
Yuji: "Soul? What the hell does that even mean?"
Shinatsu: "Probably some vague nonsense he made up last night."
Emelio continued, unfazed by their skepticism: "As always, I have personally selected your partners! And, you will be using real swords!"
The entire class collectively broke out into a commotion. Some surprised, and some eager. This will be their first time using a real blade.
Emelio: "John and Brooke. Kita and Nijika. Sam and Takamura. Erika and Sylvie!" he sang.
The two girls exchanged smiles. Erika's excitement was radiant enough to light a village. Sylvie's soft, elegant nod was the perfect counterbalance.
Emelio: "Remi and Reika!"
Remi blinked, turning toward the girl beside her. Reika, a shy, short-haired student who looked like she'd never raised her voice above a whisper.
Reika: "I-I'll do my best!" she said timidly.
Remi smiled brightly: "We'll make it fun!"
Emelio: "Mike and… Katsuo!"
The class turned to see Mike, the bespectacled, self-proclaimed genius adjusting his glasses with exaggerated calm.
Mike: "Excellent. I was hoping to be paired with someone of my intellectual caliber," he said, voice smooth and smug.
Dakota and Shinatsu cringed.
His partner, Katsuo, was grinning from ear to ear: "Bro! I've already got choreography ideas! We'll start with a backflip and end with me roaring like a dragon!"
Mike's face twitched: 'Don't judge a book by its cover.'
Katsuo looked like he was a kindred spirit, but sometimes looks can be deceiving.
And then, Emelio grinned: "The legendary duo — Dakota and Yuji!"
There was a silence. Then, Dakota muttered, "We're doomed."
Yuji just groaned: "I'm filing a complaint with God."
***
The pairs scattered around the field, preparing their routines. Erika and Sylvie immediately began stretching in perfect synchronicity, while Remi tried to calm Reika's nerves. Mike was lecturing Katsuo about "balance between pairs," and Yuji was staring at Dakota like a disappointed parent.
Yuji: "Alright, we need a routine that won't make us look like idiots."
Dakota: "That's ambitious."
Yuji glared: "You got any ideas?"
Dakota sighed: "Let's just keep it simple. You swing, I block. I swing, you dodge. Repeat until we look like we planned it."
Yuji: "That's not a dance."
Dakota: "It's interpretive suffering."
Yuji pinched his temples: "You're hopeless."
Dakota: "I was joking."
Yuji looked like he was about to throw his real sword at him. Meanwhile, Erika and Sylvie had begun their practice, their movements flowing like wind and water.
Sylvie took a deep breath, smiling: "Let's start from the top again, Erika!"
Erika: "Right."
Their swords crossed lightly — snap, step, twirl. Sylvie spun gracefully, hair glinting under the sun, as Erika mirrored her motion with a sweep that looked more like choreography than combat. Their eyes met, both smiling mid-spin. The other students couldn't help but watch. Even Yuji stopped mid-scolding.
Emelio approached them: "Magnificent! Such rhythm! Such energy! A perfect blend of fire and calm! This is what art looks like! Truly beauty incarnate."
Erika: "We're just getting started."
Dakota sighed: "We're screwed."
Yuji: "If I'm screwed, it's because of you."
On the far side of the field, Mike adjusted his glasses for the tenth time that hour: "Now listen carefully, Katsuo. This is not just a performance. This is a display of superiority disguised as physical art."
Katsuo nodded eagerly: "So we start with me screaming, right?"
Mike blinked: "No. We start with a stance."
Katsuo: "Then I scream?"
Mike: "No screaming."
Katsuo: "Got it. I'll roar quietly."
Mike exhaled through his nose: "Just follow my lead."
Their practice began, Mike attempting graceful, calculated movements while Katsuo spun wildly like a human Beyblade.
Emelio stopped mid-stride, blinking: "What… what am I looking at?" It appears Dakota and Yuji aren't the only ones who're doomed.
Remi giggled softly: "They're… unique."
At one point, Katsuo accidentally launched his sword across the air. If Mike hadn't dodged, he might've been impaled.
Mike: "Watch it you buffoon!"
Emelio had to walk over and give Katsuo a little talking to.
An hour passed, Dakota and Yuji had made progress. Their performance was a loose sequence of strikes and parries choreographed into something vaguely rhythmic.
Yuji: "Alright, step forward on the count of three, swing diagonally, then pivot."
Dakota: "Got it."
They moved. Dakota swung, too fast. Yuji countered too sharp. Their swords locked, neither backing down.
The tension was palpable.
Yuji: "You're supposed to follow my rhythm," he grunted.
Dakota: "You don't have rhythm."
Yuji: "At least make your comebacks believable." Their swords separated. Yuji pointed at him. "Again."
Emelio passed by: "You two look… intense!
Dakota: "That's one word for it."
Emelio: "You two have to trust each other. I'll leave it at that."
Yuji raised a brow: "Trust him?"
Dakota deadpanned: "I'd rather trust the cafeteria's fish."
One more hour passed, marking the start of the performances.
Emelio: "It's time, you diamonds in the rough. Make me weep with beauty! Move me with grace!"
The first performance: Remi and Reika. Their routine was gentle, flowing movements like a soft breeze. Remi's athleticism carried them, and Reika's strikes added a charming delicacy. It wasn't perfect, but it was heartfelt.
Emelio dabbed at his eyes: "The innocence! The emotional clarity! I give you… an A-minus for artistry, B for technique!"
Next: Mike and Katsuo. They started with a synchronized bow — decent enough. Then Katsuo immediately did a front flip and landed sideways. Mike tried to continue, pretending nothing was wrong.
Katsuo, meanwhile, began yelling: "THE FLAMES OF OUR SPIRIT IGNITE!" before nearly tripping over his sword.
Emelio covered his mouth: "My gods…"
Shinatsu whispered: "Are we allowed to laugh?"
Dakota: "I would, but I'm equally doomed."
The performance ended with Katsuo striking a pose, flexing, and Mike frozen mid-air like his soul had left his body.
Silence.
Then Emelio clapped once: "Courageous. Deranged. Bizarre. D for execution, B for confidence!"
Mike: 'So a C overall. Damn it, he definitely gave us a pity grade."
After several pairs had gone, Erika and Sylvie were up. The two girls stepped forward, poised, graceful. Their swords crossed with a crisp snap. Then they moved fluidly, perfectly in sync. Erika spun forward, her blade tracing a clean arc that Sylvie parried. They twirled around each other, their motions a conversation of trust and timing. Every step, every pivot carried emotion. Erika's brightness, Sylvie's calm precision. Their hair flowed like ribbons, their movements a blend of elegance and intent.
A student muttered: "Damn. They're good."
Emelio's voice trembled: "Flawless… absolutely flawless!"
As they finished, Erika and Sylvie crossed swords and bowed simultaneously. The entire class clapped. Even Yuji.
Emelio: "A+++!" he declared dramatically. "Grace, control, heart — this is what swordsmanship aspires to be!"
Erika smiled shyly: "Thank you, Emelio Sensei."
Sylvie bowed quietly: "Thank you very much."
Remi: "You two were amazing."
Erika: "Thanks!" She said cheerfully.
Lastly, it was Dakota and Yuji's turn. The audience settled, partly from anticipation and partly from morbid curiosity.
Dakota whispered: "If we mess up, we just play it off as abstract art."
Yuji muttered: "We will mess up."
They took their stances.
Emelio raised his hand: "Begin!"
The first strike, clean. The second, solid. Then came the turn sequence. Dakota pivoted right, Yuji pivoted left. Their swords clashed at the wrong angle, nearly hitting each other's faces.
The students gasped.
Yuji: "Focus!" He hissed.
Dakota hissed back: "I am! You moved wrong!"
Yuji: "You're the one—"
Their argument somehow bled into the choreography, turning their routine into a furious exchange that accidentally looked really good. Yuji's disciplined movements met Dakota's improvisation in chaotic balance. Parry, thrust, spin, glare, they moved like rivals in a movie climax, every strike genuine, every dodge instinctual. The audience watched, wide-eyed. By the end, both stood back-to-back, swords raised. Not by plan, just exhaustion.
Silence yet again.
Then, Emelio clapped: "Brutal. Raw. Inelegant… yet emotionally explosive!" He sniffled. "I felt their hatred! Their tension! Their unspoken respect!"
Dakota blinked. Yuji scratched his head.
Emelio struck a pose: "A solid A! Not for beauty, but for truth!"
The two look at each other with blank expressions. Both beyond surprised, but just not letting it show. They then gave a little fist bump.
Dakota: "Just as planned."
Shinatsu: 'You gotta be kidding me.'
The practical midterm ended. Erika and Sylvie topped the scores, followed by Dakota and Yuji's accidental masterpiece. Mike was arguing with Katsuo.
As the class packed up, Remi approached Dakota: "You guys were pretty cool up there."
Dakota: "We were literally fighting."
Remi: "Yeah," she smiled, "but you fought in sync."
Yuji grunted, passing by: "For our sake, I hope we're not partners again."
Dakota: "I'm already praying we're not."
Yuji: "If there's a next time, I hope you'll have improved."
Dakota: "Next time, I'll call in sick."
Yuji: "That works too," he says as he walks away.
Remi: "So, are you guys lovers or enemies?"
Dakota: "If I had to say, something worse."
Remi: "Haha. I wonder what that is."