Act 45 - After Battle
The sky above Mishima High was still cracked with remnants of red clouds—faint, bruised stains lingering from the chaos of the Crimson Eclipse. Though the battle had ended days ago, the air still trembled with tension, as if the school itself hadn't yet exhaled.
Desks had been replaced, walls repaired, and the smell of dust and burned fabric had finally faded. But the students hadn't forgotten. Whispers followed Machio through the halls like his own ghost—some fearful, others reverent.
"Did you hear he kicked a vampire general through a car?"
"No, no—he summoned a thunder beast and rode it into the gym!"
"I heard his eyes glowed like demon moons!"
Machio sighed, pulling his blazer over his head and ducking into the stairwell. Hiding from admiration wasn't noble—it was survival. Fame in the supernatural world meant attention, and attention meant death. Or worse—public interviews.
He wasn't ready to be anyone's chosen one. He was barely ready to pass math.
---
In the nurse's office, Kira sat beside Azumi, helping her wrap gauze around her arm. She'd taken a shard of cursed crystal during the Crimson Eclipse and refused healing magic. Said she wanted to remember it.
Azumi didn't speak much since the battle. She looked at Kira differently now—less like a rival, more like someone who had seen her broken and stayed anyway.
"You should be more careful," Kira murmured, brushing a thumb against her hand.
Azumi's lips twitched upward. "Says the guy who took a spear to the ribs and fought with it sticking out."
Their eyes held for a second too long.
And in the hallway outside, Veronica—balanced on one leg, nose pressed to the glass—smirked.
"Ohoho~ Scandalous~"
Raka stood beside her, arms crossed. "You're spying."
"I'm gathering intel, darling. It's called multi-dimensional recon." She winked, then leaned forward again, lips barely touching the edge of a lollipop. "And besides, my chaos senses tell me something juicy is simmering between Kira and our sweet, emotionally constipated teacher."
Raka didn't answer. He was still unsure why he had agreed to work with Veronica's faction. Technically, they were aligned now—Machio had forced everyone's hand. But trusting Veronica felt like making deals with a jester who also happened to be a brilliant warlord.
"You think Kira and Azumi are a thing?" he finally asked.
Veronica hummed. "I think trauma, adrenaline, and shared secrets are a delightful cocktail. One sip and you're kissing someone you shouldn't."
---
Meanwhile, Machio sat in the back of an empty classroom, staring at the red pendant that had reappeared in his locker. It pulsed faintly. Warm. Almost alive.
He didn't remember picking it up after the Crimson Eclipse. He didn't remember much at all—just blood, lightning, and the roar of something ancient inside him.
The door creaked open.
He turned, expecting a student, maybe Natsume. Instead, Raka stepped in, followed by Veronica, who was twirling a notebook.
"Let me guess," Machio said. "New enemy, weird alliance, and a secret handshake?"
Veronica laughed, flopping into a seat. "Not quite. More like... an emotional briefing. Think of it as a trust-building activity. Like group therapy, but with blackmail."
Raka rolled his eyes. "We're here to discuss boundaries. And alliances. You're the reason the Crimson Eclipse didn't swallow this school whole. That earns you power—but power demands management."
Machio rubbed his temples. "Great. I just wanted to finish high school and maybe kiss my girlfriend without getting stabbed by demon royalty."
"Aw," Veronica said. "Romantic and tragic. You're basically the protagonist of a cursed rom-com."
She flipped open the notebook, revealing a chart titled:
> Faction Dynamics Post-Crimson Eclipse
Machio (central asset)
Raka (vampire resistance cell)
Veronica (rogue strategist / chaos bard)
Azumi (teacher / fire entity / Kira's probable crush)
Kira (vampire prince / wildcard / Azumi's probable crush back??)
"Why am I an 'asset'?" Machio asked.
"Because you glow red when angry and crush buildings," Raka said flatly.
Veronica leaned closer. "Also, you're emotionally vulnerable and pretty when confused."
Machio blinked.
"Okay, focus," Raka said. "There's a growing divide within vampire society. The Crimson Eclipse was a failed takeover attempt. The Court is splintering—some still want war, others... may want peace."
"Like you?"
"Don't mistake me for a pacifist," Raka said. "I'm just tired of watching people die for an empire built on fear."
Veronica twirled her pen. "And some of us want chaos with structure. Imagine a new order where bloodlines don't dictate fate. Where people like Azumi aren't pawns. Where people like you," she pointed to Machio, "don't have to carry everything alone."
Machio looked at her. Beneath the snark and theatrics, there was something serious in her tone. Something... real.
"Okay," he said. "I'll work with you. But no more spying on me in the showers."
"No promises," she purred.
---
Later that evening, Kira found Machio on the roof. The sky was purple-orange, streaked with firelight clouds.
"You talked to Raka and Veronica?" Kira asked.
Machio nodded. "Yeah. You trust them?"
"I trust Raka's hatred of the old system. And Veronica... she's unpredictable, but she doesn't lie. She bends truth, but never breaks it."
Kira leaned against the railing. "Azumi's changed."
Machio glanced at him. "So have you."
Kira smiled sadly. "She's not just your teacher, you know. She's someone who's lost everything, more than once. And yet she still stands like stone during a quake."
Machio said nothing. He couldn't deny what he'd noticed. The gentle touches. The stolen glances. The subtle way Azumi's voice softened around Kira.
It wasn't just respect.
"Do you... love her?" Machio asked, voice barely audible.
Kira didn't answer at first. He just watched the horizon, eyes dark and thoughtful.
"I think love isn't always lightning. Sometimes it's just standing beside someone and realizing you'd bleed for them without question."
Machio looked away, heart twisted.
---
That night, Azumi stood alone in her apartment, staring at a photo of a younger version of herself—before the fire, before the curse, before the title of "teacher" or "mother-figure" or "monster."
Her phone buzzed.
Kira: Are you okay?
She typed.
Azumi: I don't know what I am anymore.
A pause. Then:
Kira: You're someone I believe in.
Azumi stared at the message for a long time before putting the phone down and walking to the window.
She pressed her palm against the glass, watching the stars, whispering to no one:
"If this is wrong... then why does it feel like healing?"
---