Zero Days Left Until the Duel
The much-anticipated morning had finally arrived. When Ansel woke up, he felt an immediate swell of apprehension stir within his chest, but he tossed that feeling aside the moment he arrived at Training Ground Delta, where the rest of the training club had gathered to discuss the forthcoming duel.
Cerua's eyes immediately noted Ansel's trimmed hair, widening with genuine surprise. "Woah," she said. "You look totally different with your hair cut short." She pushed off the wall and strode over toward Ansel.
"Morning, Cerua," Ansel smiled. "What's everyone doing?" He pointed a finger at the trio of Rotteger, Eyra, and Sven, huddled together in a corner and ominously whispering. "…They look like they're having quite a deep discussion."
"They're talking about strategies you could use to beat Dominic," Cerua shook her head. "…We spent all this time training your body and your mind, but we've got nothing when it comes to strategy." She crossed her arms over her chest, beginning to pace back and forth. "…The only thing we've come up with is 'don't get hit.' Easier said than done, right?"
"Heh, yeah…" Ansel gazed off with a somewhat nervous expression, earning a sympathetic glance from Cerua. "…It feels like these past two weeks went by so fast," he said, bringing a hand up to rub at his neck. "But I do feel different. Stronger… though I'm still weak compared to everyone else here."
"I think you're stronger than me," Cerua said, gazing up at the sky. "You actually decided to confront Dominic. That's something I just can't do. I guess my weakness is my own hypocrisy."
"Hypocrisy?" Ansel asked, raising an eyebrow. "I don't think you're a hypocrite."
"Hm," Cerua hummed, raising a finger. "You know how I was the last examinee, right?" Seeing Ansel nod, she continued, "That meant nobody was there to watch my examination—just like how nobody else saw Dominic's exam. The only difference is that he chose to cut off his audience of his own volition, while I just got lucky."
"But still, there isn't a reason for you to feel like a hypocrite," Ansel said, gazing up at the sky. "Dominic's decision to block off his audience was well within his rights. I do disagree with the hatred toward him in that regard, but… there were other factors that played into his current reputation."
Cerua nodded along, silently listening. She opened her mouth, hesitating before speaking. "…You know, the reason they put me in the last examination was because of my ability. Using it could potentially threaten the audience." She sighed, her gaze downcast. "The whole time I've been here, I've been a spectator. Sure, I have a loud voice and people listen to me… but I'm too scared to spar with a single person, or even join you guys in training."
"You're not a hypocrite," Ansel said firmly. "…You were kind of intimidating when I first met you, but now… I think you're a thoughtful and kind person, Cerua."
"Huh…" Cerua's eyes trembled slightly before she broke into a warm smile. "You were wrong, Ansel…" she muttered under her breath, watching as Ansel approached the whispering trio. "…You are strong."
"Ansel!" Eyra called out, breaking free from the huddle. "I have an important question for you. It's life or death. Can you do a backflip?" She jabbed a finger at Ansel's chest, furrowing her brow as she waited for an answer.
"I told you, the backflip double somersault strategy isn't going to work," Rotteger said, bringing a palm to his face. "You can't just ignore the laws of physics, Eyra."
"If you love physics so much, why don't you go marry it?" Eyra spat back, sticking her tongue out. "…And remember, you're still my student, so being a smart-ass earns you another thousand palm strikes. Get on with it, pronto!"
"Heheh…" Sven laughed nervously, watching as a dejected Rotteger waded toward the edge of the arena, assuming a spread-out stance and beginning his regiment of palm strikes with a dead expression on his face. "Sorry, Ansel…" Sven turned to his friend. "…We're really bad at strategizing."
'Really? Even Rotteger?' Ansel thought, chewing on his lip.
"It's alright," Ansel smiled. "…You've all already done so much for me. I'll do my best to repay it by winning against Dominic—and even then… I'll still owe you more."
"Yeah, that's right—" The smirk vanished from Eyra's face, replaced by revelrous surprise as she circled Ansel with sparkling eyes. "Oh my gosh, you cut your hair." She prodded at the shortened hair at the nape of his neck.
"Yeah," Ansel nodded. "Sven cut it for me yesterday…" He hesitated for a moment. "…How do you think I look?"
Eyra grinned. "…You look ready to defeat Dominic."
* * *
A small crowd of spectators had already gathered around Training Ground Alpha. In the middle of that crowd, two figures—their bodies hidden beneath thick, ragged cloaks—wove in and out between the flood of students.
"Lieutenant," Gunther said, adjusting the hood of his cloak. "…Are you sure these disguises are necessary? I doubt any student here would recognize us just by our looks alone."
"They are necessary," Pengal refuted. "Your brother's grandson attends this school, does he not? He seems to have become a close friend of one of the duel's participants, so he's bound to come and watch. It would be better for me if he didn't recognize you."
"Better for you?" Gunther scoffed, shaking his head. "Tch, always so shameless. With the way you've been hyping this event for the past five days, you'd better hope we see something truly amazing. If it turns out you dragged me all the way out here for nothing…" Gunther's gaze narrowed. "Then you'll never make Squad Zero."
Pengal stopped in his tracks, his face contorting with confusion—an unfamiliar feeling to him. "…How did you know?" he asked, a spike of anger surging as his fists clenched.
"It's obvious," Gunther sighed. "I'm not going to berate you or commend you. The only reason I came here is because you piqued my curiosity. Just know that whatever happens today," Gunther tapped his eyepatch, "your future is in my hands."
* * *
"Senior?" Olaf turned his head in surprise, staring up at the head of the newspaper club—Ishi Someragi—who had decided to witness the duel. "I-I didn't know you were coming!" Olaf beamed.
"Neither did I," Ishi shrugged, his gaze sweeping across the entire crowd as if searching for someone in particular. "Tell me, Olaf. Which boy is Ansel Einchalle?"
"That one over there," Olaf said, stuffing his notepad into his pocket and pointing with the tip of his ballpoint pen. "The boy with the auburn hair—sitting next to Sven Aichinger and Eyra Astedes."
"I see," Ishi said, stroking his chin. 'Why does he… feel so magnetic?'
* * *
"Hey, wait up." A voice called out, stopping Cerua mid-stride.
As Cerua slowly turned around with an annoyed expression, she immediately recognized her aunt—still dressed in her lab coat—slowly approaching. "Aunt Franka?"
"You're heading to the duel between Ansel Einchalle and that Dominic boy, right?" Franka tilted her head with a soft smile. "Do you mind if I tag along?"
"N-no, I don't mind, but…" Cerua awkwardly rubbed her arms. "…Are you sure you want to watch? I mean, you must be busy with your duties as the school nurse, and—"
"I already told you that you don't need to be so formal around me, hehe…" Franka patted Cerua's back. "I'm not like all those other stuck-up geezers." She said it jokingly, though there was a hint of spite in her tone. "And about the spar… I just have this feeling…"
* * *
'All I have is this feeling,' Dominic thought to himself, cracking his knuckles. 'All I want is to become stronger.'
He stood up, sunlight silhouetting his figure. Unlike Ansel's side of the arena, he wasn't surrounded by anyone. There was no one to comfort him or support him now. He was on his own.
The referee stood off to the sidelines, calling for both competitors to enter. Dominic stretched his hands, letting out a long exhale. He had thrown everything away for this moment. He would give up the world if it meant he could win—because that would mean he was one step closer.
Cheers erupted from the crowd of three hundred students. Nearly half the school's entire cohort had gathered to watch the match. It was far more than expected, but Dominic didn't care about the publicity.
He stepped onto the sandy ground, watching as Ansel's figure—one hundred meters away—grew closer and closer.
The crowd was spread widely across the arena's circumference, but the noise felt overwhelming, coming from all directions. Dominic's fingers dug into his palm hard enough to draw blood.
'No matter what…' He closed his eyes. The only thing that matters is winning. Nothing else matters. Nothing else in the entire universe.
Except—
'I will see you again, Clara.'