Watanabe no Tsuna

The Headmistress watched Nola like she already knew every part of her.

No words were spoken for a long time. Just the sound of the ticking clock behind her and the faint hum of the magic in the air.

"You've had... incidents," the Headmistress finally said.

It wasn't a question.

Nola nodded, unsure how to stand, how to speak, how not to crumble.

"They said it was a fire. It was an accident," she said. "But I didn't start it. I didn't even touch anything."

The Headmistress raised one pale eyebrow.

"Magic is never an accident," she said. "It's always the truth. Just one you weren't ready to speak out loud."

Nola's hands tightened at her sides.

"I didn't ask for this," she whispered.

"No one ever does," the Headmistress replied. "The question is: what are you going to do now that it's yours?"

Nola didn't answer.

The Headmistress stood.

She crossed the room with a fluid grace that made no sound, then reached for a locked cabinet embedded in the wall.

As she touched it, the lock dissolved into smoke.

The door swung open slowly.

Inside was a single crystal, floating just above a velvet cushion.

It pulsed gently with a blue light, then violet, then almost white.

Nola stared at it, her heart suddenly loud in her ears.

The Headmistress didn't pick it up.

She simply raised her hand and the crystal flew through the air like a bird summoned home.

It stopped inches above Nola's open palms, waiting.

"Take it," the Headmistress said softly. "Let it see you."

Nola hesitated.

"What is it?"

The Headmistress's eyes gleamed gold. "Truth."

Nola reached up.

Her fingers closed around the crystal—

And the world shattered.

Darkness swept the room.

The colors bled from the walls and the stained glass ceiling vanished into fog.

The floor beneath her was gone, replaced by stone wet with ancient rain.

She stood alone in a wide courtyard of black marble.

A man stood at its center.

Tall. Still. Dressed in tattered robes that rippled like silk, even in the absence of wind.

He held a sword that shimmered with moonlight.

Not a word was spoken.

He didn't look at her.

Didn't even acknowledge her.

He just raised the blade, slowly, with a grace that struck her chest like thunder.

He took a step.Then another. Swinging his blade with elegance.

He moved with precision that felt less like fighting and more like music—each slash a note, each turn a breath.

The sword flashed once through the air.

And the world shook.

Nola stumbled backward, but there was no fear—only awe. Like she was standing before something sacred.

The swordsman stopped, the blade resting gently at his side.

Finally, he spoke.

His voice was soft, deep, and carried centuries of silence.

"You are not me."

She felt the words in her bones.

"Yet you shall carry my name."

The fog thickened.

Symbols began to glow in the air behind him—ancient kanji pulsing with unseen fire.

Nola's mouth moved before she could think. "Who are you?"

The swordsman raised his eyes at last.

For the briefest moment, their gazes locked.

"Watanabe no Tsuna," he said. "And I am your Will."

A wave of power surged through her. Her mind felt free from the turmoil she felt all these days. She felt protected and safe.

It wasn't pain but it brought her to her knees.

She gasped, the sword's reflection flickering in her eyes, the name echoing in her blood like it had always been there, waiting.

Then light flooded her eyes again.

The room returned.

The office walls. The ticking clock. The faint glow of the ceiling.

The crystal hovered just above her palm, now dim and still.

The Headmistress didn't look surprised.

"Interesting," she murmured. "Very interesting."

Nola could barely breathe. "Watanabe… no Tsuna…"

The name tasted strange and familiar on her tongue all at once.

The Headmistress called out a book. She read from it a bit.

"He was a demon-slayer," the Headmistress said. "He was a protector. A blade against the darkness."

Nola shook. "Why him?"

The Headmistress folded her arms.

"Because something in you called him. Your will matches his and with time you will realise your true calling with him."

She stepped closer, eyes sharp as daggers.

Nola dropped the crystal. It didn't fall, it simply disappeared and was there in the cabinet again.

"I saw him," she whispered. "He didn't look at me at first. Like he didn't care. But then… he did."

The Headmistress's expression shifted slightly.

"Will spirits are not people. They are echoes of purpose. They are not here to guide you. They are here to test if you are worthy of what they once were."

Nola sat down hard on the floor, her legs unable to hold her anymore.

"I thought I was just broken," she whispered.

"You're not," the Headmistress said. "You're rare."

She walked back to her desk.

"Most students here are like you. Rejects. But some never find their will. Some never should."

Nola looked up. "What happens now?"

The Headmistress gave a thin, wry smile.

"Now you learn not to let that sword cut you in half while you sleep."

She picked up a quill and began writing on a thick parchment scroll.

"You'll be in Dorm 4, Floor 3 of the Sun Tower."

"You are lucky. It has only been a week since school started. Orientation starts tomorrow."

"Someone will show you around. Try not to destroy anything, not that you can."

Nola stood slowly, still dizzy.

As she reached the door, the Headmistress called out once more.

"Tsuna chose you," she said, voice low. "Do not disappoint him."

Nola nodded.

She didn't trust her voice not to break.

As she stepped back into the hall, the lights seemed a little brighter.

Her steps a little steadier.

The weight of the sword still echoed in her arms even though it was never hers.

But it would be.

She just didn't know what she'd have to lose first.