A land without rules

Amaya was calm, her body completely relaxed and attuned to the moment. Her eyes were closed, and she stood poised in a sword stance, radiating an air of tranquillity that masked her true strength. She might have seemed defenceless to an outsider, but in reality, she embodied the peak of offence and defence.

With a fluid motion, she raised her wooden stick, which served as her blade, and initiated her movements with a horizontal slash, stepping forward with grace. Following this, she executed a vertical slash, each step forward a testament to her control and skill.

As she began her sword dance, the sequence unfolded like a mesmerising performance. The dance was unique, reminiscent of a dragon unfurling its fangs, each movement simple yet powerful. The wooden stick flowed effortlessly in her hands, soft in its execution yet undeniably fierce.

It was more than mere swordplay; it embodied her family's sword art, rooted in the Way of the Wind principles. Each strike and manoeuvre harmonised with the air around her, creating a breathtaking display that blended elegance with lethal precision.

Amaya stood with her eyes closed, nearing the end of her sword dance. She suddenly sensed something approaching from behind as she flowed through her movements. In an instant, Amaya pivoted with quick agility, maintaining the essence of the Way of the Wind around her. Her wooden sword raised high; she felt her grip falter slightly, but she executed a horizontal slash. The impact with the cane sent it splitting in half, and the air around her erupted with a loud bang.

"Wow, your sword proficiency has increased quite a lot," Ryu said, applauding her as he stepped closer.

Gradually, Amaya opened her eyes, focusing on him.

"You aren't bad yourself with your silent approach. How long have you been watching me?" Amaya asked, giving him a sidelong glance.

"Not long," Ryu replied, a smile on his face.

"I didn't notice him until he threw the cane." she thought, casting him a suspicious look.

"In no time, you'll reach your father's level," Ryu said, nodding toward the split cane.

He remembered watching Amaya's father demonstrate his swordwork when he was younger, marvelling at what he could achieve with a wooden blade.

"I'm still far behind," Amaya said, a hint of pride in her voice. She stepped away from Ryu and reached for a small white towel, which she used to wipe the sweat from her brow. The fabulous fabric felt refreshing against her skin as she took a moment to collect herself, the exhilaration of her sword dance still coursing through her veins.

"I think your softness and hardness principles are still not quite aligned," he continued, observing her thoughtfully.

"You focus too much on softness rather than hardness," Ryu said, his tone thoughtful.

Amaya couldn't argue; she knew he was right. Deep down, she recognised that while her graceful movements were beautiful, they sometimes lacked the force necessary to make them truly effective. She took a moment to reflect, understanding that balancing both aspects would further enhance her skills.

"What brings you here?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Just came to check on you," Ryu said, eyes closed, letting a gentle smile spread across his face. He pulled out a small sack and offered it to her.

"Where did you get this?" Amaya asked, taking an apple from the sack.

Ryu has known Amaya from a young age. Their family was close, and the apple was her favourite fruit. She liked to eat when she finished her swordplay.

"The store. Where else?" Ryu replied casually.

"What's the situation?" she asked, taking a bite of the apple.

Ryu opened his eyes, the moment's seriousness settling in as he approached the room doors to close them.

"It's awful. The supplies won't last us a week," Ryu said, concern evident in his tone.

"Isn't Rose High supposed to be a school of surplus?" she questioned, eyebrows raised.

"Of course. Where there's money, there's greed. I bet the fatty pocketed the funds," Ryu said, frustration creeping into his voice.

"The damn principal is a greedy man. We need to go to the surface.

"How's everyone taking it?" Amaya asked, her expression growing serious.

"No one knows yet—only Kato and a few trusted people," Ryu replied.

"So what's the plan?" Amaya pressed.

"Still working on one," Ryu said, determination in his eyes.

They continued to discuss their ideas, the weight of the situation hanging in the air as they strategised their next steps.

Ryu suddenly stopped talking. Both of them noticed a third party somewhere listening to their discussion. With silent footsteps, Ryu opened the door quickly, checking both sides for signs of life, but saw none. Ryu went back in and continued the conversation with Amaya.

As Ryu and Amaya descended the dim corridor, their footsteps echoed softly against the walls. They exchanged a few last words about their earlier discussion, the tension lingering in the air.

Suddenly, a door swung open nearby, and a male student stepped out; Nabi Ida was a striking figure, his hunched frame giving him an air of vulnerability. His pale skin, marked with several dark freckles, starkly contrasted with his thick, jet-black hair that fell haphazardly around his face. His front teeth were oversized, resembling those of a cartoon mouse, and whenever he grinned, it felt like he was about to hurry off with a hidden treasure.

A naturally cautious person, Nabi only ventured into situations when he felt sure of the outcome, always seeking refuge in familiar and safe places. His time at Rose High had been far from straightforward; he had faced relentless bullying from students, even those he considered beneath him. Known as the "Mice of Rose High," he became a target for taunts and mockery, leaving deep scars on his self-esteem.

"Shit, shit, shit," Nabi muttered under his breath as he walked toward his room, his mind swirling with anxiety over what he had just overheard. The weight of his thoughts pressed heavily on him.

"What can I do?"

"Should I try stealing? "

"No, I'll get caught—security is tight. That's impossible," Nabi thought, frustration gnawing at Nabi.

"Maybe I could tell someone," he considered, but that idea lingered uneasily.

"Who would even hear me out?" The isolation of his situation wrapped around him like a thick fog, making every option feel hopeless.

As he walked, stress mounted within him, manifesting in the dilated pupils that reflected his heightened anxiety. His eyes darted around the hallway, scanning for any sign of comfort or escape, but only chaos filled his mind.

Then, suddenly, something caught his attention. He paused, his thoughts shifting from the dire situation regarding food to a figure walking alone down the hallway. It was a female student, her presence both striking and unexpected.

Desire surged within him, overpowering the anxiety that had been consuming him just moments before. What had started as worry and stress began to transform into a different kind of urgency—lust. He watched Mari, captivated, as the tension in his chest eased, replaced by a fluttering excitement.

In that moment, his troubles faded into the background, if only briefly, as he let himself be drawn into the moment, yearning for a thrilling and distant connection.

Mari Ito, who cut Nabi's eye, stood at 5'2", her light skin radiating a soft glow. She had shoulder-length brown hair that framed her face, often tied back in a ponytail. Her warm brown eyes reflected a genuine kindness and attentiveness to the world around her. A simple girl at heart, Mari valued the little things in life, finding joy in small gestures and quiet moments. As the cook in the sanctum, she poured her heart into every meal, believing that food could bring people together and nourish not just the body but also the spirit. Her warm smile and gentle demeanour made her a comforting presence to those around her.

Mari sighed as she continued walking down the hallway.

"Another day tomorrow," she said softly, a hint of excitement in her voice. "I'd like to know what dish I'll be allowed to make." she thought.

Her thoughts drifted to Kenji, and a smile crept across her face.

"What would he like to eat?" she mused, recalling their brief conversation earlier.

The memory made her cheeks flush a delicate shade of pink as she remembered the Way his cold eyes seemed to soften when they spoke, contrasting his usually stoic demeanour.

Lost in her thoughts, she felt a warmth spread through her, a mix of anticipation and shyness. The idea of preparing a dish Kenji would enjoy brought a flutter to her heart, and for a moment, the kitchen faded away, leaving just the thought of Kenji and the simple joy it brought her.

Nabi was eager to seize the moment, and the urge to approach Mari was almost overwhelming. Just as he was about to act, he heard a group of students coming from behind, their chatter filling the hallway. He quickly controlled himself, knowing he couldn't risk it.

Despite his hunched posture, he quickened his pace, passing by Mari with heavy breaths that betrayed his anxiety.

Startled by the unusual sound, Mari turned slightly but quickly dismissed it, her thoughts drifting back to Kenji.

"What would he like to eat?" she mused, smiling as she envisioned their conversation.

Nabi lingered just out of sight, feeling frustration and desire. He couldn't shake the vision of Mari, lost in her thoughts, and the longing in his chest deepened, the noise of the students fading into the background as he focused solely on her.

"very soon, my love", Nabi said with a lustful smile.