The corridor outside Katherine's chamber was still, torches guttering as shadows flickered along the stone walls. Garrick leaned heavily against the cold marble, pressing his palms to his eyes until stars danced in the darkness. His voice, low and bitter, rasped into the silence.
"Damn that woman… What does she see in him? A broken-nosed brute who wastes his nights swinging steel. I'm better than that aristocrat-trained mutt in every way. My lineage alone could buy and sell a hundred like him!"
His fingers curled into trembling fists.
"I'm a noble. I've wealth, power, bloodline. I could shower her in silks from the east, crown her in jewels that would blind kings. I'd worship her like a goddess, burn the world for her smile. And yet…" His lip curled in a sneer. "…she fawns over him. Over Edward. Women… I'll never understand them."
He spat to the side and stormed down the corridor, boots echoing against the stone.
**********
Within the chamber, silence pressed thick. Katherine's fingers traced along the edge of her mahogany desk, pale and deliberate. The drawer slid open with a groan, parchment shifting to reveal a single hidden relic: a yellowed painting, edges frayed with age.
Her breath caught—sharp, intimate. She lifted it carefully. A portrait of Edward in his youth. His hair shorter, his smile untouched by burden. Frozen, forever unknowing.
Her thumb brushed his painted cheek, smudging the faded ink. For a moment, her lips parted, her breath unsteady. A tremor ran through her, subtle yet consuming, as her eyes glistened with something perilously close to hunger.
"My Edward," she whispered, voice dripping with longing and venom alike. "So noble, even then. Maya stole you once, but she won't keep you. Soon, you will be mine—and mine alone. Maya's reign will end. I'll see to it. Once she's gone, this academy will kneel to me. And together, we shall rule it."
She pressed a fervent kiss to the painted lips, lingering. When she pulled back, a cruel smile stretched across her face—sharp, predatory, unhinged. The painting slid back into the drawer with reverent care, as if it were a sacred icon. The drawer shut with a heavy thud, the sound ringing like a vow.
**********
"Achhooo!"
A sharp sneeze echoed through the wooden walls.
"Bloody hell, that came out of nowhere," Edward muttered, rubbing his nose, a shiver running down his spine.
"Whoa, Edward, you okay there? Caught a cold?" Sakura leaned closer, her pink hanfu rustling softly, eyes twinkling with amusement.
"No, just… a normal sneeze. Probably the breeze. But damn, that chill hit deep," Edward sighed.
"You know what they say," Sakura teased, lips curling into a playful smile. "When you sneeze out of nowhere, it means someone's thinking of you. Maybe a secret admirer? Someone special, perhaps?"
Edward snorted, sarcasm tugging at his mouth. "A special admirer? Please. If someone's thinking of me, it's more likely a hater. Garrick, probably. The one I used to admire… she's long gone now." His voice softened, gaze drifting.
Before the mood could sink, Edward straightened. "Anyway—about what I shared earlier. What do you make of these incidents, Sakura?"
"Commoners vanishing like smoke…" Sakura's voice grew thoughtful. She twirled a strand of her sleeve's silk; eyes fixed on the horizon. "Yes, I've noticed too. At first, I thought it was study pressure. But now, after today's incident… it's no coincidence. And the infirmary's been busier than ever."
Edward nodded grimly. "Exactly. At first it looked like regular bullying. But if teachers like Garrick are involved, this runs deeper. It's not simple."
Sakura's lips pressed into a thin smile. "Edward, you're right about Garrick—but he's no mastermind. Too brutish. Someone's pulling his strings. Someone cunning. Perhaps… Katherine?"
"Katherine?" Edward barked a laugh, shaking his head. "No way. She's intense, yes—but not malicious. I've known her too long. She wouldn't."
"Poor Edward," Sakura murmured under her breath, gaze sharp with unspoken meaning. "You don't know Katherine's real face at all, do you?"
"What was that?" Edward tilted his head, missing her tone.
"Nothing." Sakura poked his arm, breaking the tension with a mischievous grin. "You've explained the whole situation so well I almost feel like a co-conspirator. But why haven't you told Maya yet? She's Grandmaster. If anyone can handle this, it's her."
Edward leaned back, folding his arms behind his head. "Lady Maya is swamped with Grandmaster duties. I won't burden her until I have solid proof. Otherwise, it's just suspicion—and I won't risk chaos over that."
"Lady Maya, is it?" Sakura smirked, her eyes sparkling. "Funny. The three of us were once classmates—you, me, and Maya, remember? But now, you call me just 'Sakura'—but she gets the title. Not fair, don't you think?"
Edward's lips twitched, his voice calm but firm. "Titles matter. She's not just our old classmate Maya anymore—she's Grandmaster Flamefox. I respect that. She's earned it."
Sakura's smile softened, her gaze lingering. "Oh, Edward… you're far too innocent sometimes."
He ignored the tease, his eyes hardening with resolve. "I'll keep digging. For the disciples' sake. Once I have proof, then I'll tell Maya."
"Always the hero." Sakura chuckled, then tapped his arm lightly. "Alright then, hero. I'm in. I'll keep my eyes open, too. Let's dig together."
Edward's nod was firm, his jaw set. Between them, unspoken trust settled—a quiet pact sealed under flickering lantern light.
**********
The academy courtyard lay quiet, torches flickering in the night breeze. In one forgotten corner, laughter broke the silence—cruel, sharp, and mocking.
Sabastian Seaborne lay crumpled on the dirt, clothes torn, face bloodied, hair matted. His trembling hand clawed at the ground, trying to push himself upright—only for a savage kick to his ribs to send him sprawling again.
"Look at this fish-stink commoner, thinking he's worth the dirt on our boots. Pathetic!" Albus sneered, flicking a pebble that struck his soiled gii.
"Bet he prays to shrimp!" Jasper laughed, shoving him against a stone bench.
"Your kind taints the academy's honour," Blaise muttered, brushing dust from his pristine cuff.
"Let's teach him his place, boys," Cedric cracked his knuckles, looming like a predator.
They circled him, laughter echoing like sharks scenting blood. Sabastian braced against the wall, heart pounding like waves against rock.
"Please... leave me alone," he gasped, his voice breaking. "I didn't do anything wrong. I'm here to learn—same as you."
The pleas only fuelled their cruelty. Fists and boots rained down, sharper with each strike. Minutes dragged like hours.
"Boring," Albus yawned, leaning against a pillar. "Let's talk about something else. You hear what happened with Rufus and his lackeys? They were flattened by a boy and a girl."
"You mean that upstart commoner and his little aristocrat girlfriend?" Jasper smirked. "Humiliating."
"Rufus and his pals… weaklings," Blaise scoffed. "Losing to a commoner and a tainted aristocrat. Disgraceful. What were their names again?"
"Shaun Thunderhawk... and Natasha Ikazuchi," Cedric replied.
Sabastian's swollen eyes flickered open at the names. Shaun... beat Rufus? Even through the haze of pain, something sparked inside him—hope, surprise. Blaise noticed. His grin sharpened as he crouched, grabbing Sabastian's collar and yanking his bruised face upward.
"Wait. You were with that Shaun boy and the Ikazuchi girl on the first day, weren't you? Chummy with him once, weren't you, fish-boy?"
Sabastian froze. His fists clenched weakly, nails digging into his palms. The truth clawed at his throat—Yes. Shaun is my friend. But fear drowned it. His voice came hollow, fragile.
"Shaun? No… I'm not his friend. We're just acquaintances. I haven't spoken to him since."
The nobles stilled—then burst into laughter.
"Smart move, fish-boy. Stick with him, and you'd bleed worse than this. Consider yourself lucky. Very lucky indeed," Blaise clapped mockingly.
"Enough for tonight. Let's go before someone shows up," Albus ordered.
They shoved him down once more and strode off, their laughter echoing long after they disappeared into the shadows.
Sabastian lay there, chest heaving, shame heavier than the pain. At last, he sat up, wiping blood from his lip as tears blurred his vision. His uniform was a mess of dirt and crimson. Every breath burned.
"I'm sorry, Shaun… I had to. I have to protect myself."
He rose slowly, limping toward the distant glow of the infirmary. Each step was a quiet vow, shame twisting into a fragile seed of resolve. High above, unseen from below, a brown-haired boy leaned against the terrace railing. His sharp eyes glinted in the dark, lips bittered.
"Pathetic," his voice sliced the stillness.
**********
The day ended far from the academy's grandeur. In their modest home, Shaun's parents sat together by the glow of a dim oil lamp. The flickering light painted gentle shadows across their worn wooden table, the silence heavy with both love and worry.
"So, Shaun will be leaving soon, Sharek. Four years… Four years without his laughter filling these rooms. It will feel like forever," Sarah whispered, twisting the hem of her apron, her eyes glistening.
"I know, Sarah. It's hard. But this is for his future." Sharek adjusted his glasses, his calloused hand resting firm on the table. His brow was furrowed, but his voice was steady.
"I know it's for his future, but my heart aches already. He's still so young. Will he be okay? Alone in Silver Heaven Town? Is that dormitory truly safe and comfortable? Who'll look after him?" Her gaze drifted to Shaun's empty chair, the absence already aching.
"Don't worry," Sharek said, his tone softer now. "The dormitory is close to the academy. Less travel, more time for studies. And the manager, Lady Naomi—she's kind. I've heard nothing but good things about her."
"That's something, at least. But… the funds…" Sarah's voice cracked, lips trembling.
Sharek reached across the table, squeezing her hand with quiet resolve. "I'll manage. For our sons. We'll do whatever it takes to give them wings to soar."
Sarah's eyes shimmered as a tear slipped down her cheek. She quickly brushed it away, forcing a fragile smile. "Four years… I'll miss his laugh. His messy room. Even his stubborn streak."
"He gets that streak from you," Sharek chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling with affection.
"Oh hush. You're no saint either," Sarah swatted his arm, her smile breaking through the tears.
"Don't worry," Sharek murmured, his voice carrying a small, hopeful warmth. "Four years will pass faster than you think."
The weight of their decision lingered, heavy but wrapped in love that tethered them to Shaun's dreams.
"I'll confirm his admission tomorrow," Sharek said with quiet determination. "We'll tell him once it's certain. Don't worry too much, Sarah. He's our ambitious boy. He'll make us proud."
Sarah exhaled shakily, but her smile shone through at last, bittersweet and radiant. "Two days, then. Let's make them count—for him."
**********