The marketplace was bustling by midday, louder than ever. Bright cloths hung from awnings, food stalls smoked with roasted meat and spice, and merchants called out over the din. The Circle weaved through the crowd, but Kaito moved with his usual silent purpose.
This time, he didn't stop at weapon stalls. Instead, he pulled up short before a tailor's shop. Rows of tunics, cloaks, and trousers lined the walls in shades of white, brown, and red. Kaito scanned them once, then said flatly:
"Blue."
The tailor blinked. "Blue?"
Kaito pointed. A rack of dark blue trousers, lightweight for movement. Sleeveless shirts the same shade, meant for training. He selected a simple hooded cloak as well, trimmed faintly with silver thread. Nothing extravagant—just sharp, practical, and always marked in blue.
The tailor quickly bundled the clothes. "A full set? And spares? That will cost—"
Gold clinked as another pouch hit the counter. More than enough, as always.
The Circle stood behind him, wide-eyed.
"Do you ever run out of money?" Mira hissed.
"Do you want clothes or not?" Kaito asked, without looking back.
—
They thought that was the end of it—until Kaito led them straight into the food market.
If the tailor had been surprised, the butchers and bakers nearly fainted. Kaito bought smoked meats by the cartload, baskets of bread, entire crates of fruit, jars of honey, and wheels of cheese. Every stall he passed, more gold poured out, more food piled high.
By the time they returned to the academy, half the Circle had taken to carrying sacks for him. Ryo groaned under the weight of one. "Are you feeding an army, or yourself?"
Later, in the dining hall, they got their answer.
Kaito sat down and ate. And ate. And ate. Meat vanished in mouthfuls, loaves of bread torn and gone, fruit cores discarded, honey jars scraped clean. Where most of them would be stuffed after a single plate, Kaito devoured enough for five grown men without slowing, without flinching, without a trace of shame.
The Circle stared in disbelief.
"That's… not human," Mira whispered.
Kaito wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, calm as ever. "You fight better on a full stomach."
Aria didn't look away. Her gaze stayed locked on him, sharp, calculating, almost uneasy.