Kenji had been trying not to think about what happened in the corridor last night. The fact that he was *trying* meant he'd already failed. Sitting alone at the long table in the Sumigarama Hall—the communal dining hall used by everyone in the fortress—with a bowl of morning porridge made by Chef Hana in front of him, his spoon had gone still. The cold stone wall of that corridor. The body heat transmitted through his thin sleeping clothes. The sensation of steady breathing spreading slowly across his skin from his arm. Every time he remembered it, the back of his neck grew warm. Focus on the porridge. (…It's warm.) No, not the porridge—last night's— "Focus!" Kenji had spoken aloud without thinking. A soldier at the next table turned to look. He cleared his throat and took a sip of porridge. Hana's morning porridge contained forest mushrooms, with a rich aroma. It tasted better than usual—or maybe that was just his imagination. Probably his imagination. His ears were slightly red. --- After finishing his meal and heading to the Iron Tread Plaza—the fortress's sixty-meter diameter circular training ground—Lina was already there. Her water-blue short bob shone vividly in the morning light. Her golden eyes sparkled as she held both hands out in front of her. It was output adjustment practice. The task of controlling the magical power that had surged during the battle with the Reconstructor, something Celia had apparently told her to continue doing every morning. Kenji observed Lina from a distance. He didn't hear the crackling sound. She was calmer than yesterday. This might work. "You seem better at this than yesterday," Kenji said, walking closer and pulling out an apple he'd brought from the dining hall as a gift. If he gave her the apple while saying something encouraging— "Really!?" Lina's golden eyes lit up brilliantly. That was bad. Her emotions had surged. By the time he recognized it, it was too late. BAGOOOOOOOOOOON!!!! Lightning burst out of the training ground. The electrical discharge flew past the magical buffer formation—the special ground array installed as accident prevention for magic training—and struck the entrance sign of the adjacent Sumigarama Hall directly. The wooden sign literally shattered into splinters. Fragments scattered through the air. For a moment, there was a profound silence. And then. "Third one this month!!!! This month's third sign ahhhhhhh!!!!" Chef Hana's voice erupted. The dining hall door was kicked open. Chef Hana appeared, ladle in hand. Still in her apron, eyes blazing, she charged toward the training ground. The soldiers who had been doing morning practice all turned toward the sound at once. It was a perfect display of unity. "Linaaaaaaa!!!!" Hana roared. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I was just so happy—!!" Lina bolted at full speed. Kenji tried to process the situation. He couldn't. All he could grasp was the image of Lina running through the fortress, Hana swinging her ladle around, and himself somehow caught between them. "Wait a moment, Hana, we can talk about this—" Kenji called out. "You come too, Kenji! You're never involved but you're always at the scene!!" Hana shouted. "This isn't my fault—" Kenji protested. At that moment, Lina's body collided with the back of Kenji's head. She'd been running at full speed, and the two of them stumbled together. Kenji saw Hana raise her ladle from the corner of his vision. "Awawawawa!!" Lina cried. "Let's run!!" Kenji grabbed her hand. Three figures ran across the fortress's stone pavement. Hana's voice calling "Wait!!" echoed through the morning air, and all the soldiers in the training ground watched them. It had become a landmark of the fortress. --- Hana caught Lina at the woodpile behind the Sumigarama Hall. "I'm sorry… really…" Lina said, her face serious. "This happens every month!! Your emotional surges directly affect your magical power, so control it!!" Hana scolded. Lina nodded solemnly, genuinely remorseful. But the residual magical power in her body was amplified by the tension, and weak electricity scattered from her fingertips with crackling sounds. Bachi, bachi. Hana's anger accelerated. Lina grew more tense. The electricity crackled more. Hana got angrier again. "…This is a loop," Kenji observed. Hana and Kenji looked at Lina simultaneously. She cowered nervously, electricity crackling around her. It was a situation where the presence of a scary adult made her tense, which disrupted her magical control. Hana took a deep breath. "…Fine. As an apology, make four signs by the end of this week. Go get materials from Dag at the workshop," Hana said. "Four?! I only broke three!!" Lina protested. "That includes future ones," Hana replied. Lina started to object—"That's not fair!!"—when Kenji stepped in to mediate. Or rather, tried to. His foot kicked over a fire bucket. SPLASH. He was drenched. From head to toe. It was exactly the same situation as yesterday. Only the sound of dripping water echoed through the woodpile. Kenji silently looked up at the sky. Not a cloud in sight—a clear, refreshing blue. Lina opened her mouth hesitantly. "I think… the amount of water was slightly less than yesterday," she said. "Nobody's comparing that," Hana replied flatly. Kenji wrung out his water-soaked sleeve once. It was completely drenched. Two days in a row. Maybe he was using up his entire week's luck in this spot. --- That afternoon, while having his bandages changed in the medical wing's "Chamber of Silence," Kenji stared blankly at the ceiling. Medicinal herbs lined the shelves along the wall, releasing a quiet fragrance. A bottle of healing tree sap—the precious liquid that served as the base for healing potions—caught the light from the window and glimmered faintly. The muffled sound of metal being struck in the smithy drifted in from outside. Misha sat across from him. Her silver-white hair was loosely gathered, and her completely white pupils didn't catch the light, but her expression was as calm and serene as always. She wore no blindfold, simply sitting there. Kenji had recently come to accept that for her, whose senses other than sight were honed to an extraordinary degree, there were things she could "see" even without cloth. "About your gift. A little," Misha said. "More philosophy?" Kenji asked. "Not philosophy. A matter of law," Misha replied. Kenji nodded with a resigned expression while his bandages were being wrapped. Misha began speaking in her characteristically slow, measured cadence. "There is a place where the world is choosing its next form. You exist in that place simultaneously," she said. "Does that mean… I'm at the center of something?" Kenji asked. "Rather than the center. Like a guest who arrived at a house at the exact moment the owner entered the same room," Misha explained. "So I'm lost? Or am I invited?" Kenji asked. "Both, I think," Misha said. "Which is it?" Kenji pressed. "Both," Misha repeated. Kenji paused, then asked again. "…Did that explanation resolve anything?" he asked. "No," Misha admitted. "I appreciate the honesty," Kenji said. Misha smiled thinly. Her smile was gentle, but carried the certainty of someone who knew something and chose not to reveal it all. The bandage change finished. Misha rose quietly and headed toward the corridor. At the doorway, without turning back, she left one final statement. "Last night. Something soft seemed to mix with the laws surrounding you," she said. Then she turned the corner and disappeared. Kenji was left alone. Her words lingered in the air of the Chamber of Silence, mixed with the scent of medicinal herbs. Something soft. Kenji looked at his right hand. Just above the bandage, on the back of his hand. The place where Lina's shoulder had gently touched his arm in that corridor last night. It felt as though the memory of her body heat still remained there—and the back of his neck grew warm again. --- Deep in the night. His eyes were too awake to sleep. After tossing and turning in his bed for a while, Kenji gave up and went out into the corridor. The stone walls of the residential wing had absorbed the night's chill thoroughly, and the corridor smelled of stone. His feet stopped. Lina was already there, in the same spot as last night. Her water-blue hair glowed softly in the corridor's dim light. She sat with her knees drawn up, her back against the wall. The exact same position as last night, in the exact same place. Lina looked up. Her golden eyes met his. She didn't look surprised. "I thought you'd come," she said. "You're here too," Kenji replied. Lina's gaze shifted slightly away as she hugged her knees tighter. Kenji sat down beside her. Closer than last night. The two of them sat side by side, backs against the wall. The cold of the stone seeped through from behind, spreading slowly across their backs. "Why did we hide yesterday, do you think?" Lina asked. "I don't know," Kenji said. "I don't know either," Lina said. "Yeah," Kenji agreed. Both of them relaxed their shoulders simultaneously. A sound that was neither quite laughter nor quite resignation dissolved into the corridor. Lina covered her mouth with her hand and let out a small laugh. Kenji's shoulders shook silently. The absurdity of being in complete agreement on "I don't know" hung in the corridor air for a while. Then it became quiet. Lina's shoulder slowly leaned against Kenji's arm. Unlike last night's reflexive movement, this was different. She was testing it, gradually, adding her weight little by little. Through her thin sleeping clothes, her body heat transmitted through his skin. The contrast with the cold stone wall made it more pronounced. It was warm. He could feel the rhythm of her steady breathing moving against his arm. Inhale, exhale. In a slow, measured rhythm. Kenji's pulse quickened slightly. Neither of them moved tonight. A light approached from deeper in the corridor. A lantern. A guard's footsteps echoed regularly on the stone pavement. Coming this way. Last night, they'd reflexively stood up. Tonight—the two of them exchanged glances. Their eyes met. Lina's golden eyes narrowed mischievously. They both pressed themselves flat against the wall. They wedged their bodies into the recessed area beside a nearby door, positioning themselves so the lantern light wouldn't reach them. Deliberately. Choosing to hide. Lina was gripping Kenji's sleeve. The footsteps drew closer. The lantern's orange light swept across the stone wall as it slowly approached, passed, and receded into the distance. It disappeared around the corner. Silence returned. "…We hid again," Kenji said. "This time we chose to hide ourselves," Lina said. "Why do you think that is?" Kenji asked. "I don't know," Lina said. They laughed again. This time it lasted a bit longer, a soft giggle dissolving into the corridor. Lina's shoulder didn't return to its original position. Kenji didn't move it back either. Only the soft weight and warmth transmitted through his arm continued, something certain in the corridor's chill. The Foresight Blade showed nothing. This moment right now—was quiet, simply existing here. --- The next morning. The Sumigarama Hall was its usual bustle. The sound of Hana stirring pots, the voices of warriors, and the clink of dishes blended together to create the fortress's morning soundscape. Lina was absent. She'd been assigned to dish washing early that morning as compensation for the sign destruction. From the back of the dining hall, the occasional sound of water and a voice saying "I'm washing them properly!" could be heard. No one was listening. When Kenji received a bowl of forest mushroom stew and sat at the long table, Misha soon arrived with her tray and sat quietly beside him. Her silver-white hair was loosely gathered in the morning light. For a while, they ate without speaking. It was quiet. Not an unco