_Hall of Heroes, Jotyu High._
The Hall of Heroes stood like a forge of legends, its wooden pillars aglow with fire beacons, as if the spirits of Japan's greatest soccerers still pulsed within. Samurai statues flanked the entrance, guardians of a hallowed space where the echoes of kicks, goals, and forgotten chants lingered. A lone figure lingered before a poster: two warriors in crisp white kimono, locked in a blaze of blades, their faces etched in fury and honor.
"That's the Alchriff brothers," a voice said behind him, husky and familiar.
Yutsuki turned, pulse skipping. Chun-yin, a striking Chinese woman in a silk qipao, her dark hair cascading like night, smiled as if she'd heard a secret. The scent of sandalwood trailed with her.
"Whoa," he thought, his admiration immediate. Chun-yin chuckled, clearly reading his mind, her lips curving like a secret kept.
"They're the first Jotyu soccerers," she said, pointing gracefully. "Cade Alchriff, a force of light. And Cain, his brother." Her finger hovered between them. "Their rivalry carved the history of this place."
"Why are they fighting?" Yutsuki asked, squinting at the fury in their postures, the poster worn as if the conflict never ended.
"It's a long story. Even I can't tell you all. Ask Master Enzo himself if you dare." Her smile hinted at flames worth uncovering, and a flicker in her eyes said more than words.
"What's your name, miss?" Yutsuki pressed, curious, trying to place her calm power.
"Chun-yin. Nice to meet you, Yutsuki-san."
"How did you—?"
"Master Enzo told me. Kojou brought you here last night. You were dying. You're really something." Her gaze softened, like a parent seeing a scar.
Memories crashed in—his decimated clan, his parents, the ache of revenge. The charred remains of his home. The whispers in the wind. Tears blurred his vision. Chun-yin wrapped him in a soft, lavender-scented hug, her voice a whisper in his ear.
"Dear, I'm so sorry."
Meanwhile, Sadori walked through the autumn-crisp village, leaves whispering beneath his feet like a thousand tiny conspirators. He'd ditched school with Mugi and Motara, driven by one goal: find Yutsuki. Their friendship was frowning under Yutsuki's dark fixation on Mitsuki. Sadori wanted to pull him back from the edge. He knew Amanda adored Yutsuki—but Sadori would be there anyway, even if it meant walking into shadows.
He arrived at Training Field Two. Three wooden logs stood sentinel, their bark scraped, awaiting the test of flesh and fire.
"What the…? This your next training?" Sadori asked, eyes widening.
Kojou materialized in his black Jotyu uniform, a hint of a grin on his face, his mirrored sunglasses reflecting the trees.
"Training. Yaze and Kira are with my clones. I'll push you. The Kun Tournament demands strength. Prove you're not ash."
"Tournament?" Sadori echoed, a spark igniting.
"Every freshman must prove themselves. Show what burns inside. The whole school watches."
_Training Field One._
Kojou faced Sadori, eyes patient as a mountain. "I'll teach you control. Imagine danger. Manage your Cosmo energy. Burn too much, and you bleed—or die."
Sadori's pulse quickened. The lust demon's grin, the masked man's laugh, the dragon in him growled, wings stirring in his chest.
"Got it, Sensei."
Kojou blindfolded him with a black cloth. The world went silent. "Attack me. Now."
Sadori's fists trembled. Where was the wind? The ground?
_Training Field Four._
A wind danced across the faces of Yutsuki and Kira, standing opposite each other, a sealed charm restraining the shadows in their gazes. Kojou pulled out a tattered notebook, its pages filled with sketches of storms.
"Uh, what's that?" Yutsuki asked, fingers twitching.
"A library find. Don't worry—it won't distract me," Kojou said, smiling thinly.
Yutsuki snarled, dagger flashing like a fragment of night. Kira, her black hair tied tight, cracked her knuckles. "I don't need mercy."
Kojou stepped back, hands in pockets. "Fast… If I'm right, you're both stronger than most. Don't hold back."
Yutsuki unleashed Ash Requiem—embers swirled, scorching grass. Kira mirrored him, cold steel arcing in Umbra Strike, her steps a silent storm. Kojou dodged their whirlwind, unfazed, skimming his book, a murmur escaping:
"Symmetry."
Panting, they halted. Sweat drenched them. Outplayed. The logs nearby charred, as if mocking.
"How…?" Yutsuki growled, eyes burning. Kira's jaw clenched, unsatisfied, calculating her next move.
_Training Field Three._
Yaze wore boredom like a mask, but his pulse betrayed him. His Sensei was a powerhouse—no losing today. The air hummed with clones sparring in sync, an eerie ballet.
"Gimme all you've got," Kojou said, vanishing like smoke.
Yaze sprinted. Clones multiplied. Faint clashes echoed. A test without witnesses. An hour later, the sun dipped, casting long duelist shadows.
"Training's up. Rest," Kojou said, closing the session. Sadori stumbled nearby, exhausted, blindfold still tied. Yutsuki and Kira stood grim, comparing bruises. Yaze nodded, drained, a hint of pride flickering.
"Thanks, Sensei!" Sadori grinned, ripping off the cloth.
Kojou's thoughts whispered: _Hmph. What a drag. But the ember's lit._
The four students glanced at one another. The tournament was a heartbeat away. And in the Hall of Heroes, the Alchriff brothers still fought.