A Star That Defied Night

The figure stood firm, slowly advancing toward the gray-haired man holding a revolver and a cane. Behind him, several men waited, weapons ready. Yet the cloaked figure moved without hesitation, his gray and silver sword at his side, cloak flowing in the wind.

"Well?" The gray-haired man smirked, motioning to his men. "We aren't here to stand around and look pretty."

Claire's chest tightened as she silently counted six men. Her fingers curled into the fabric of her cloak, her breaths shallow and uneven. The men nodded, and in an instant, they charged—axes, swords, and daggers raised high, ready to strike.

The first man swung his axe with deadly precision, the blade cutting through the air with a sharp whistle. But the cloaked figure moved like lightning, his sword flashing up to parry the attack. The clang of metal echoed, but the figure didn't even flinch, his stance unshaken, almost effortless.

Claire gasped softly, shrinking back against the wall. Her legs trembled, and her heart pounded in her chest. She wanted to look away, to escape the chaos, but her body refused to move.

The other men attacked one after the other, their strikes relentless. Yet, each time, the cloaked figure's blade met theirs with cool, calculated precision. He didn't rush, didn't force it—just parried each attack with fluid, effortless movements, as if he were dancing.

"H-How is he doing that...?" Claire whispered, her voice barely a breath, her awe mingling with fear. Her heart raced in her chest, each movement of the cloaked figure a testament to his skill and calm.

The men closed in, surrounding him from all sides. For a moment, he stood still, blade gleaming faintly under the dim light. And then, with the grace of a predator, he moved.

The figure spun like a whirlwind, his cloak billowing behind him like dark wings. His blade became a blur, cutting through the air with a sharp, resonant hum that vibrated through Claire's chest. She flinched at the sound, her hands gripping her hood tighter as her body instinctively shrank away.

His movements were mesmerizing—fluid and deadly, a flawless display of skill and precision. His headphones swung loosely around his neck as he spun, catching the light in flashes as he effortlessly incapacitated each man in his path. When he finally stopped, the men around him lay crumpled on the ground, their weapons scattered and useless.

The cloaked figure straightened, his posture calm and unhurried. His dark eyes glinted beneath the shadow of his hood, unfazed by the chaos he'd just created. With a deliberate, slow step, he resumed his approach toward the gray-haired man, who now looked anything but composed.

Claire stood frozen, her breath caught in her throat. She hugged her cloak tighter, her trembling hands gripping the fabric as if it could shield her from the intensity of the scene. Her thoughts spun in a whirlwind of disbelief and awe, the image of the cloaked figure seared into her mind.

"A Stellar skill…" Claire thought, her voice barely a whisper, awe and disbelief filling her.

Claire recalled the existence of Stellar skills. She knew a few herself—techniques passed down through her family for both bow and sword—but she had never witnessed them used in real combat. Stellar skills, inherited or learned, were techniques performed with various weapons—blades, bows, daggers, guns, even fists. The user imbued their mana over the weapon, consuming their stamina in the process. These skills were called Stellar skills because the movements, precise as constellations, formed elegant patterns in the air, with blades swinging or arrows soaring like stars in a night sky.

Seeing them used in real combat, against actual enemies rather than on TV or in training, was astonishing. But then, a sharp headache struck, and Claire's vision blurred. She shook her head, trying to clear the fog of her thoughts, forcing herself to focus on the present.

"You're no fun as usual, Kazuki…" the gray-haired man said with a prideful tone, confirming the cloaked figure's name.

Kazuki? The name caught Claire's attention. Her ears perked up, and her eyes widened in recognition. The figure's precise movements and the name confirmed his identity as male. Her gaze drifted to the dark mark on the gray-haired man's right shoulder—a black raven with outstretched wings curving around a dagger to form a crescent moon. The sight of his layered, tattered robes—dark gray and black with a deep hood—triggered a sense of familiarity, though she couldn't quite place it. Her thoughts scattered as the man continued.

"But I guess all days end with a farewell to the fun times…" he added, his approach slow and taunting, arms spread wide, cane and revolver firmly in hand.

Kazuki wasted no time. In an instant, he leaped forward like a bolt of lightning, his sword aimed with lethal precision. The gray-haired man parried with his cane, pushing Kazuki back several meters. Claire gasped as Kazuki swiftly flipped and struck from behind. The man rolled sideways, dodging the blow, and fired a shot from his revolver. Kazuki's blade met the bullet with a clean block, the sound of metal clashing against metal ringing out.

Frustration flashed across the man's face as he retreated, realizing the severity of the situation. He fired several more rounds while backing toward a nearby building, climbing a wall-mounted ladder. His shots were effortlessly deflected by Kazuki, whose hair bounced and headphones swung around his neck as his blade moved with fluid precision. Kazuki's light gray eyes remained cold, emotionless, even as his blade sliced through the air with deadly intent.

Claire's heart raced as she watched, her body frozen in shock. The gray-haired man's revolver clicked empty, and Kazuki lowered his weapon, knowing the man had run out of bullets. The man made his way to the rooftop where a helicopter hovered, waiting to whisk him away.

Kazuki stood below, watching the helicopter, his gaze empty and unwavering. The man's eyes briefly met his, one hand outstretched, still gripping the revolver, the other holding onto the helicopter's bars.

"Well, toodles, Kazuki. Today's been nice, but I have things to attend to," the gray-haired man said with a small, hidden smirk. "Though, I wouldn't leave without a farewell gift…"

Kazuki's eyes narrowed. He knew what was coming. As the helicopter began to lift off, the man pressed a button on his cane. The vehicle that had crashed earlier exploded violently, sending Kazuki flying into a nearby pole. Claire screamed, her voice hoarse with terror as the explosion shook the air, sending shards of debris flying.

Kazuki's body was thrown from the blast, his headphones flying from his neck before shattering on the ground. The helicopter ascended into the sky, leaving destruction in its wake. Kazuki lay motionless on the ground, the effects of the explosion taking their toll as darkness slowly closed in on him.

"Help!" Claire screamed, her voice breaking as she called for him. Her cries echoed in the chaos, but Kazuki was already slipping into unconsciousness. The last thing Claire saw was his body, sprawled beneath the wreckage, as the world around her blurred into darkness.

Claire snapped out of her brief recollection as the tapping of a microphone echoed through the hall, accompanied by a slight buzzing sound. The freshmen, including Claire, were gathered for an assembly, awaiting a speech from their headmaster. The surrounding noise of students' chatter and excitement momentarily stopped upon hearing the mic tapping. It was about September 11, 958 S.E., 7:42 AM, and Claire quickly glanced at her phone, catching a glimpse of the time before her memory of the mysterious figure flashed through her mind. She shook her head gently, trying to refocus as the headmaster began to speak into the microphone from the stage.

In Stracia along with it's neighboring continents, cellphones, formally known as CrystalDials, were essential devices blending magic and technology. While primarily used for communication and navigation, they could be enhanced with various magical properties. These phones could project small holograms, translate ancient languages, and even summon temporary protective barriers, making them vital tools for both everyday use and adventure. Most people simply called them phones for convenience.

"Students, greetings to all of you. Freshmen, you've all come from faraway places, making sacrifices along the way. Although your journey is far from over, I see warriors ready to express their fullest potential. That said," the white-haired headmaster spoke, his voice calm and steady, but his presence commanded complete silence from the students. "I extend my warmest welcome to the Celestial Sword Academy..."

The assembly grew even quieter in Claire's confusion. The headmaster, standing with his unbuttoned brown coat over green clothes and dark brown pants, exuded a calm, composed demeanor. His silver hair and glasses gave him an air of wisdom and authority.

Just then, Rose tugged on Claire's shirt, startling her slightly. Claire looked up, her cheeks flushing a little as she glanced at her friend, who leaned in to whisper excitedly in her ear.

"Ooh... It's Mr. Isaac, the headmaster of our academy," Rose whispered, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "They say he used to be a member of the Magic Council, but he left to build this academy and teach the new generation. Isn't that amazing?"

Claire blinked in surprise, feeling her heart race a little at the revelation. "R-really? Whoa, that's amazing..." she stammered, her voice barely audible as her mind tried to catch up with the information.

The students around them turned their attention fully to Isaac, hanging on his every word. Claire sat stiffly, feeling a little out of place amidst the excitement but trying her best to focus. The headmaster, a figure of power in Stracia, was undoubtedly someone to be admired.

"I conclude my statement to all of you aspiring heroes. Do your best, and I wish you all the best. Please, make yourselves at home in the academy; it is deserving of students like you," Isaac said, a small, reassuring smile gracing his face before stepping away from the mic.

His slow footsteps echoed through the hall as he left the stage. One by one, the students clapped at his speech. Claire and Rose, both feeling incredibly fortunate to be there, joined in. Out of the many applicants, fewer than seventy had been chosen to attend the Celestial Sword Academy after intense entrance exams and tests. They were among the lucky few, a fact that still felt surreal.

As Isaac descended from the stage, he gave a subtle smile at a contrasting presence in the crowd before taking a seat among several staff members. A beige-haired woman stood up beside him, her commanding presence silencing the excited students in an instant.

"Ahem," she spoke, her voice firm but calm. "As stated by Mr. Isaac, you are all welcome to this academy. We provide you with dormitories, each shared by two random students..."

Rose and Claire exchanged wide-eyed looks, both struggling to contain their excitement. They couldn't hide the grin creeping onto their faces, though they tried to keep their reactions modest. Their excitement was palpable, and they knew others around them were feeling the same way, even if some remained unusually quiet.

"Whoa, isn't that exciting?" Rose whispered to Claire, leaning closer with a grin. "Dorms and roommates, Claire!"

"Y-yeah, who knows, we could be roommates," Claire responded quietly, her voice trembling slightly from the excitement she was trying to hold back.

"I mean, who knows, maybe we could be roommates with someone handsome," Rose teased, a mischievous grin on her face as she nudged Claire's shoulder.

Claire blushed, her face turning a shade of red as she looked down, fiddling nervously with the edges of her cloak. "I... I wouldn't say I'd prefer it, but I'm open to it..." she replied softly, trying her best to sound casual, though her heart fluttered with the thought of being roommates with someone else—someone she hadn't quite admitted to herself yet.

Similarly, the other students felt excited, chattering and talking while the beige-haired woman stood in front, frustration and annoyance evident on her face. Rose immediately noticed and tugged at Claire to look at the woman, urging her to stay quieter.

"Ahem!" the beige-haired woman spoke, grabbing attention and silencing the noisy students, her annoyance clear.

Rose realized who the woman was, shock and terror evident in her expression. Claire noticed this and stayed quieter. Ann's expression as she scolded the noisy students was furious.

"I forgot, she's Miss Ann, the apprentice of Mr. Isaac," Rose whispered, trembling. "She's very hotheaded, especially when students misbehave..."

Claire stayed quiet, afraid of annoying Ann, who scanned the hall with sharp eyes, keen to spot any misbehavior. The students understood and sat quietly.

As Ann started to calm down, she noticed the large door at the entrance to the assembly slowly creaking open. An orange-haired male student walked in, late and trying to sneak in. The male student realized he had been noticed as Ann locked eyes on him, her fury sending chills down his spine.

"Young man, I see you!" Ann yelled, her tone sending chills down Claire's spine and terrifying the sneaking student. "Well? Why are you late?!"

The students turned toward him. Rose shook her head, signaling the male student to stay quiet and not respond to Ann's question. The male stood frozen, his hand trembling, eyes wide, and his lips pressed together in fear. Some students sat quietly, fearful of Ann's frustration, while others chuckled or didn't care. Claire sat with wide eyes.

"Well?!" Ann demanded again.

"Uh... Ma'am, I-uh... got lost?" the orange-haired male stuttered, fearful of Ann's wrath.

This response deeply angered Miss Ann. She slowly took out her stick, causing terror in Rose and Claire. Ann made the chair she had previously sat on levitate and telekinetically sent it flying toward the student. He stood frozen in fear as the staff and teachers watched. Claire caught a glimpse of magic from a staff member of the Celestial Sword Academy, although it was not what she expected.

"Aren't you going to stop this, sir?" asked one of the staff members to Isaac.

"No, students need to learn from Ann's outrage. Besides, Ann intentionally misses when it comes to her students," Isaac remarked calmly.

As Isaac stated, the chair narrowly missed the male student, which would have caused major repercussions due to its fast velocity. He stood frozen in fear. He felt like he might vomit from the air sickness he had felt on the airship to the academy but decided to immediately gulp it down, afraid that puking would anger Ann more.

"Office, later after this session. I'm sure you'd love a talk with me about your tardiness," Ann said, taking a deep breath to calm down.

"Y-yes, ma'am..." the orange-haired student replied, still frozen in fear.

"Well? Take your seat," Ann ordered calmly before losing eye contact with the male student.

Rose looked in his direction, signaling him to sit by bobbing her head and pointing her eyes at the empty seat beside them. Claire remained paralyzed by Ann's outrage. A group of students chuckled at his tardiness, whispering "puke boy" after the incident where he had vomited on the airship.

The orange-haired male heard their chattering but decided to ignore them as he sat quietly along with the two girls, paralyzed in fear like the students around him, as Ann continued to speak in front. Claire was too scared to listen to her speech.

"Hey..." the male student briefly greeted Rose and Claire, spreading his palm before turning his attention back to Ann.

Ann continued her speech, though Claire barely heard it. The anxiety from earlier still gnawed at her, and despite her fear, a part of her couldn't help but feel a flutter of eagerness. The thought of her own dorm was both exciting and daunting. She hoped, with a hint of wishful thinking, that she and Rose would be roommates. After all, this was Claire's first time living on her own, without her wealthy father's constant presence. Her fingers nervously rubbed over the notepad in her lap, the desire to record her thoughts in writing gnawing at her, but she feared Ann would scold her if she tried.

Her attention drifted in and out of the speech, her thumb continuing to rub over her notepad. She was determined to capture this moment—her first day in the academy.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Ann concluded her speech. The atmosphere in the hall had shifted. Some students were still in a dazed stupor from the earlier incident, while others had half-closed eyes, fighting off sleep. Claire sighed in relief when the keys to their dorms were distributed by the staff. With each student receiving their assigned room and keychain, the heavy tension in the hall began to lift. As soon as Ann and Isaac left the hall, a collective sigh of relief echoed among the students. Claire, too, felt the weight leave her chest. She could finally relax.

When Claire was handed her keychain with the dorm number, Rose immediately leaned in to get a better look. Her voice was teasing, but there was a playful excitement in her tone. "Ooh, Claire, what'd you get?!"

Claire glanced at her keychain, her heart sinking when she saw her room assignment. "Oh, that sucks, we're not roommates..." she said, her voice tinged with disappointment, her eyes downcast.

Rose gave a lighthearted shrug. "Yeah, but that's alright. I'm sure you'll find a good roommate," she reassured, though the disappointment was clear in her own voice. "I bet you'll be fine."

She turned to the orange-haired male, still standing beside them. "How 'bout you, boy?"

Takumi, looking slightly embarrassed, pulled out his keychain and showed them. "Huh? Oh, here..." He paused for a moment before speaking again, clearly more relaxed now that Ann had left. "So, anyway, since Miss Furious left, I think this is the right time for a proper introduction. I'm Sato Takumi..."

Rose couldn't resist teasing him, a sly grin spreading across her face. "Heh, puke boy..." she remarked with a playful chuckle, her eyes gleaming with amusement at the nickname she'd given him.

Takumi's face flushed, and he groaned, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "Hey hey, don't call me that. It's Takumi," he said, clearly annoyed by the nickname that had stuck due to his earlier air sickness.

Rose just grinned wider, her voice still lighthearted. "Fine, Takumi it is. I'm Rose and this is Claire..." She turned to Claire and, without warning, stood up, pulling her with her. Claire's face flushed a deep red, not entirely comfortable with the sudden attention, but too shy to pull away. Rose smiled brightly, posing in a V shape with her fingers while Claire stood awkwardly beside her, trying her best to hide her unease.

Takumi stood off to the side, staring in astonishment at the sudden display of enthusiasm from Rose. Claire, still somewhat paralyzed by her shyness, gave a small, timid smile in response, though it barely reached her eyes. She wasn't quite used to this kind of spontaneous display.

Claire soon parted ways with Rose and Takumi, her footsteps light but hesitant as they searched for their designated dorm rooms. The academy, vast and bustling, housed thousands of students, its corridors weaving through classrooms, libraries, cafeterias, and training grounds. The famous battleground beneath was where they'd be instructed to head after a few hours, but for now, they were given time to unpack and rest after the long trip.

Claire found herself standing by one of the conveyor belts, her gaze fixed on the luggage and weapons being delivered to students around her. Her baggage eventually arrived, and she gently picked it up, trying not to draw attention. Her backpack sat snug on her shoulders, along with her bow, Tearful Embrace, and the quiver housing her arrows. A large, hourglass-like object was slung over her shoulder, and her journal was carefully held in her hands, her thumb absently rubbing it as a way to calm her nerves.

As she searched for her dorm, she passed by several students, some excited and others quiet, with a few exaggerating their emotions about being in the academy. Eventually, she arrived at an elevator and stood waiting, the number above the steel double doors ticking up to her floor. She tapped her foot impatiently, her head swiveling as she anxiously checked for any sign of movement, surprised that she was alone in the elevator hall. Most students were either in other elevators or choosing to run up the stairs, eager to reach their dorms.

"I wonder what the dorms will look like..." Claire muttered softly to herself, her voice barely a whisper, as her anxiety seemed to bubble over into impatience.

She rubbed her journal with her thumb again, her foot tapping faster as the elevator slowly climbed toward her floor. Suddenly, a male student approached and stood beside her. Claire stiffened immediately, her body tensing as unease washed over her. Not just because of the stranger's proximity, but because of who the student was—the black-haired male she had bumped into before on the bus. The one who had saved her and her kitten, Maomao, from being run over by the vehicle. The same one who had been injured because she had been too distracted to keep an eye on Maomao. Her guilt was like a weight in her chest, and she could barely breathe as she remembered the explosion that had sent him flying into a nearby pole, knocking him unconscious.

"Eep!" Claire thought in a panic, her uneasiness building the longer she stood beside him. Her eyes darted around, avoiding his gaze. Her forehead felt slick with sweat as she mentally willed herself to shrink away into nothingness, hoping he wouldn't notice her presence.

The seconds seemed to stretch, and guilt washed over her again, but this time it was accompanied by a sense of dread. She couldn't help but wonder if he was mad at her. She risked a glance up at him, but his blank stare was focused straight ahead, his expression unreadable and unmoving. He seemed completely uninterested in her, just waiting for the elevator to reach their floor. Still, Claire couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort. Her heart raced, and her vision blurred as she struggled to calm down.

When the elevator doors finally opened, the sound like a brief bell echoing through the silence, Claire nearly jumped out of her skin. She quickly stepped inside, feeling even more awkward as she stood next to him. His posture was rigid, his black-coated figure standing completely still with his legs and arms at his sides. The sword that had fought off the gray-haired man and his men was strapped across his back, and Claire noticed his gray-and-silver blade with a tinge of unease. She couldn't help but glance at him repeatedly, her eyes flicking toward him with every shift of the elevator.

Kazuki—she recalled his name, though it felt strange to think of him as the person who had saved her life—was dressed in his school uniform, a brown shoulder bag hanging from his shoulder, but that was all he had with him. His black fingerless gloves and slightly torn scarf were the only other things that stood out to Claire. She remembered his headphones had broken during the explosion, and now an earphone hung loosely from his neck.

The awkward silence stretched on, and Claire found herself practically vibrating with unease, not knowing what to do with herself. She continued to glance at him, then quickly looked away, unsure of how to break the tension between them. He remained completely still, his gaze still straight ahead, while Claire continued to fidget. Her foot pressed onto the tip of her shoe, lifting herself up onto her toes several times, as if trying to find some way to release the nervous energy coursing through her.

The elevator doors finally opened with another sound like a bell, and Kazuki immediately walked out. Claire hesitated for a moment, almost too stunned to follow. As she stepped out, she realized they were both on the same floor, which was entirely coincidental. Yet she couldn't shake the feeling that he was avoiding her. Her eyes dropped to the floor as her empty hand formed a fist, trembling slightly in frustration and guilt.

"I was really careless that day..." Claire thought sorrowfully, her heart sinking. She silently followed behind Kazuki, her thoughts swirling around the memory of the explosion and everything that had happened. She had no idea that, without realizing it, she was unknowingly walking the same path as him.

Claire took out her dorm key and tilted her head slightly, counting the numbers on the dorm doors as she passed them. Her hands were trembling, and her mind raced with anxiety. She brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face with the hand holding her journal, trying to steady herself. As she reached her door, she pointed the key towards the keyhole, intent on unlocking it, but to her surprise, she clashed with another keyholder attempting the same thing.

Startled, she looked up—and her breath caught in her throat. It was Kazuki, the black-haired student from the elevator. For the first time, he made eye contact with her. His light gray eyes were as emotionless as ever, his expression unreadable. They locked eyes for a moment, Claire frozen in place, unsure of what to do. Then, he broke the gaze, looking away just enough to give her room to slip her key into the keyhole. But as her hand shook with nervousness, she fumbled slightly.

"This can't be true. This has to be a mistake. I can't be roommates with him!" she thought, her heart racing in her chest as guilt bubbled up again.

With no other choice, she pushed her key into the lock, turned it with a slight click, and hurriedly pushed the door open, rushing inside. Her head was down, her hair falling to shield her face from Kazuki's gaze. Kazuki, unaffected by her awkwardness, followed quietly behind her. He scanned the room with an indifferent air. Claire barely noticed the space at first—only the uncomfortable presence of her new roommate. The room was simple: a bunk bed, a drawer, a large empty brown cabinet on the front wall, a glass sliding door leading to a balcony, two tables, several chairs, and a large flat-screen TV above the desks. But all Claire could focus on was Kazuki's silent presence.

Feeling overwhelmed, Claire rushed out onto the balcony, leaving her baggage against the wall and her journal lying face down on the floor in her hasty exit. She stood against the glass railing, her arms resting on it as the autumn wind ruffled her long yellow hair. She stared at the view below, anything to avoid facing Kazuki. Inside, Kazuki dragged a chair to one of the desks and sat down, unsheathing his sword, as though entirely uninterested in her.

Frustration surged in Claire's chest. Her face flushed with embarrassment, and she gripped the railing tightly, pulling on it in restless frustration. 

"No, this can't be true. I can't be his roommate. This has to be a mistake... it *has* to be. There's no way..." she thought desperately, a bead of sweat slipping down her forehead.

Unable to stay still, she stood on her tiptoes, stretching slightly to peer inside. From her upside-down vantage point, she saw Kazuki sitting in front of the desk, silently reading a book. He didn't seem to notice her, which only made her more self-conscious. Without thinking, she slapped her cheeks gently a few times, trying to shake off the frustration and tension that had taken over. Her face slowly returned to its normal color, and after a few calming breaths, she peeked inside again. Kazuki was still absorbed in his book, not even acknowledging her presence.

Finally, Claire found the courage to step inside. She slid the glass door open and tiptoed back into the room, hoping not to disturb him. Her eyes fell on her backpack, and as she grabbed it, she noticed something odd. Her journal, which she thought she had dropped, was now lying neatly on the table, closed, with the pen beside it.

"That's... strange," Claire thought, but she didn't dwell on it. She quickly grabbed the journal and pen, then made her way to the top bunk. She placed her backpack against the wall and sat down on the edge of the bed, swinging her legs lightly as she opened the journal.

She began writing, hoping that the act of putting her thoughts down would help her distract herself from the unease building in her chest. The awkward interaction with Kazuki had left her shaken, but this was her chance to finally focus on her own experience—her first night in the academy. She had looked forward to this moment, excited about having her own space. The view from the balcony was beautiful, a symbol of independence that she had longed for. But the discomfort of being roommates with Kazuki, the guilt, and the uncertainty remained.

"What an interesting day…" Claire muttered softly as she wrote, the words flowing onto the pages. She couldn't help but feel that the adventure ahead would be full of more surprises.