[First person]
Today I was dressed with comfortable white pants and a plain white shirt, loose and efficient. By my right, Julia could be seen staring at me, eyes full of an odd longing — primal, although tactically concealed.
- "Well, well. Look who it is." She spoke, initiating eye contact. "How has it been?"
- "Fine, I guess. How about you?" My voice came out rather forced, due to the nature of the situation.
- "Honestly? A little conflicted. You've been rather distant. But, seeing you walk in just now made my day better."
I saw her gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, a surprisingly human gesture. Her eyes gleamed with a practiced coldness. There was something odd beneath her tone.
- "I like your outfit, by the way. The white suits you. Makes you look good."
My eyes got drawn to hers, as an eyebrow of mine slowly raised. I was surprised — not at the clear hints she gave me, but the way they were handed. I expected something way more crude from her.
- "Thanks." I replied, my mind starting to shift. She is probably trying to downplay what happened in the ball, or something else.
- "Today it is duels day." She followed. "If I win, you will have to forgive me."
She said it with a teasing demeanor, getting close to his ear. Arden flinched like a traumatized puppy, creating a faint distance between each other.
- In contrast, his calm voice echoed: "Right."
- "And if you win, I'll leave you alone for around a week."
- "...? Alright, I'll take it."
I wasn't capable of forgiving her, really. A kiss is not something worth remembering under my eyes — I just despise physical contact, yet I guess I don't see that action as something forbidden. I can't handle the fact that she is stronger than me. It rips me from inside — I've found something I can't control due to its nature, and it took something from me.
Her eyes were still locked onto mine for the rest of the class, expectant. I just lightly avoided her gaze, focusing on my book, thinking about ways to manipulate mana to generate more strength.
In a flash, an hour passed. It was time for the duels.
Everybody left the classroom, myself included. I walked through the halls, finding somebody — Cyrel, speaking to the principal. I, of course, immediately got in position to read her lips.
Seems like she's using her family as leverage to get placed against Julia these duels season, and she is facing strong rejection. Seems like it's going to be possible, just as a last duel or something along that style.
Cyrel's gaze drifted to the left as she was speaking to the director. Looking at me, she gave me a suggestive wink, followed by a small chuckle.
In front of the director? Bold girl. You will get skinned. For now, I'm out of here.
So, in retrospect, today is going to be chaos all around.
I walked towards the staircase, aiming for the rooftop again. After a big chunk of classes, there is a break of an hour I mostly use to go there.
As I walked around, I still felt gazes hit me — some people had a faint admiration, others some desire. Fear could be seen etched into some's faces.
I've come to think about all emotions being the same. They are all just distortions from the same current. Love and hatred — so opposite although similar, have a faint line between them. The only real state of mind is calmness, a calm so empty it feels comatose.
I guess the underline for every human relationship is how big of a piece you are for their lives — how much they think about you, how obsessed they are. All emotions can shift into something else entirely with volatile ease.
Reaching the rooftop, I started doing some basic stretches, preparing myself for the upcoming fight.
[ ~ ]
As the sun approached its highest point, bathing the world with an ever-present crimson radiance, students scrambled through the stands of a stadium. They sat — some nervous, some chatting with dread about the news of yesterday. Everybody had a different story about it, nobody knowing the actual truth.
Matches came and went, students jumping from the stands and getting inside the arena upon requests. A robotic voice dictated the order and people participating in each encounter.
Time passed in a haze, the voice of the intercom gradually becoming secondary. Every murmur halted as the robotic voice uttered two names. Arden and Julia.
Immediately, a burst of blood exploded in the arena. Amidst the substance, a body slowly manifested, making her presence seen. Flesh, tendons and ligaments slowly created a carcass — one adorned by a pair of the most beautiful of pink eyes.
The woman, fully formed, gave off a big smile as she started bouncing on her feet, adopting a non fully formed fighting stance.
On the other hand, a far more restrained force — silent and intimidating to the extreme, walked down the stairs. Each one of his footsteps was heard through the entire stadium, nobody daring to make a sound.
He had a katana on his waist, adorned by intricate designs. His green eyes were cold and focused — intense beyond measure, scanning the woman in front of him.
Without further ado, he took his sword out with the might of a divine sentence. He gripped it with both hands, and then started running forward. His entire body shifted downwards, as he locked into his target. Terrifying, absolutely horrifying.
The woman quickly threw hundreds of bolts, every single one elongated and strong to the extreme. A single one could cut through metal and penetrate any amount of human flesh.
In response, Arden cut. His sword danced along every bolt with brutal might, as his body still ran forward. The fire of his blade left behind him a still materialized spiral. Upon reaching a close distance to Julia, his sword started burning in white flames — flames so fierce many in the stands had to cover their eyes.
He slashed forward, spanning a cut of flames in front of him that was directed to his target. In response, the woman deformed her arm, a big chunk of flesh spanning tens of meters originating from it. It slapped Arden like a fly, making him shoot backwards at an overbearing speed.
The mass of muscle soon started to struggle and burn in white flames, as immaculate mana control was manifested in thousands of small slashes, each desestabilizing the conglomerate of flesh.
The entire stadium gasped. Arden, who was thrown dozens of meters, stood tall. His mighty visage did not falter — his stance that of a predator. His sword started irradiating an even stronger light, as he cut forward.
He ran as quickly as his body allowed — piercing through the barrier of sound.