The Sacred Girl(s)

Sydney sat submerged to the collarbone in steaming water, the midnight hush broken only by the faint crackle of magic lamps and the far-off echo of her own voice.

Her arms wrapped around her knees, hair fanned out like fire across the surface, eyes fixed on the marble ceiling.

The world outside the Keahi quarters was silent, locked and safe, but her thoughts refused to settle.

She let herself sink deeper, the heat soaking into bone and muscle, willing the tension to dissolve. She almost believed it was working. Almost.

Did Katsu ever have a choice?

The thought had been gnawing at her since Wildglow—since before.

He carried his legend like a shield, and she envied the way he seemed untouched by the stares, the way he let them bounce off.

Or maybe he just hid it better. She wondered if she'd ever have the nerve to ask him, really ask, if he was surviving, or if he'd ever wanted to live.

Sometimes, she missed the version of herself who only worried about tests and dinner menus.

Now, she wondered if survival was a thing you earned, or a thing you paid for, over and over, until there was nothing left but scars.

A ripple of air flickered behind her.

For a second, she tensed.

Magic senses on high but before she could conjure even a flicker of flame, the world warped, and Katsu materialized at the foot of the tub in a flash of blue light.

He blinked, eyes scanning the vast bath, then settled on her with a familiar, maddening calm.

They stared at each other, the silence stretching, steam blurring the lines between outrage and surprise.

Sydney was the first to break. "Katsu."

Katsu cleared his throat, feigning indifference.

"Me and Rei can't sneak you out of Keahi territory. If we try, you'll set off half the wards by flaring up. So… I'm just going to teleport you out. Simple."

Sydney's jaw clenched. "Katsu, I'm bathing."

He leaned back against a marble pillar, unbothered. "I mean, I can see that. But are you really bathing, or are you just sitting in a bath full of bubbles, waiting to get wrinkly and pretend it counts as self-care?"

She shot him a flat look, remembering a similar conversation from months ago. "And how would you know what women do in the bath, Nori?"

He shrugged, eyes never quite meeting hers.

"I read books, I hear people talk. Woman are weird."

Ouch.

Sydney rolled her eyes, sinking a little lower in the water. "You are absolutely impossible."

I know, right?

He smirked.

"Are you getting out and coming with us, or should I wait for your ten-step hair routine to finish?"

Her face flushed, half from the heat, half from sheer indignation. "You're such a pervert."

"I have no interest in whatever is under that water. Trust me, I'm just here to do my job."

She glared. "Get out. Come back in five."

Katsu nodded, utterly unfazed.

"You have three and a half minutes left. Your five started when I got here."

She let out an exasperated groan. "Oh, fuck off!"

He grinned, already flickering at the edges, magic gathering for another flash. "Three minutes and twenty-two seconds. Time's ticking."

And then, just as suddenly as he'd arrived, he vanished, leaving only the faint taste of mana in the air and Sydney's racing heart.

She stared at the ripples, then laughed, helpless, all her anger turned brittle and bright.

For the first time all week, she let herself smile.

Because somehow, even when he made everything harder, Katsu also made it all feel possible.

Outside, moonlight spilled across the courtyard where Rei waited, leaning against a gnarled old cedar, arms folded and expression carved from patience and mild suspicion. Katsu reappeared in a swirl of blue mana, cloak settling around his shoulders like nothing had happened.

Rei arched a brow. "She coming?"

Katsu tucked his hands into his pockets, deadpan. "Yeah. She's taking a midnight bath."

Rei blinked, genuinely thrown. "A what?"

Katsu shrugged, lips twitching with a crooked smirk. "Yeah, that's what I thought too."

—————

Sydney smiled, fresh-faced and almost glowing, as she fell into step beside Katsu and Rei. The three of them cut quiet shapes across the moonlit quad, their shadows long and strangely united.

"So," Sydney said, glancing between the two boys, "why are we together? Is there actually a mission, or are you just kidnapping me for old time's sake?"

Katsu shrugged, feigning innocence. "Don't look at me. I'm just the teleportation spell."

Rei smirked, tossing her a sideways glance. "Honestly? No mission. Not yet, anyway. But we could start requesting them. Normally, you'd need someone higher up to approve—Master Uiscel, or one of the Circle—but since both me and Katsu are Wizards now, we might have some pull. Maybe get assigned something that actually matters."

Sydney's eyes danced, daring. "So the plan is—make trouble until they can't ignore us?"

"Pretty much," Katsu said. "It's a solid strategy. We're overdue for a little chaos."

Rei grinned, the edge of his usual reserve softening. "If we're going to shake the Academy out of its sleep, may as well do it together. Besides, after Wildglow, I'd trust you two anywhere."

Sydney glanced between them, warmth settling in her chest. "Guess that makes us a team again."

"When did we ever stop being a team?" Katsu asked, voice light but eyes searching.

"Never," Sydney shot back, laughing as she punched his shoulder—more fond than fierce.

He feigned a wince, rubbing the spot, but his grin was real.

Levii… why don't you ever get jealous when I mess with Sydney? Isn't your whole thing… Envy?

The Leviathan's voice uncoiled in his mind, velvet-dark and lazy.

I am envy in its purest shape—the tide that drowns, the storm that claims. But Sydney? She's sweet, little king. I don't envy kindness. Besides… Sydney doesn't have all night to strip you down and—

Okay, okay, he cut her off, feeling his ears burn. Message received.

"Don't look so smug," Rei said, nudging Katsu from the other side. "You're still the reason we almost got caught last time."

Sydney rolled her eyes. "He's always the reason. But that's our luck, right?"

They fell into step, the three of them side by side—moving through the night like they belonged to it. Above them, the Academy's lanterns flickered, catching the laughter and the quick, uncertain hope in their voices.

…

Dawn hadn't touched the sky yet.

Dew hung heavy on the grass, painting silver trails beneath Katsu's boots as he carried Sydney on his back, her arms draped over his shoulders, head nestled against him, lost in a sleep only true exhaustion could bring.

The Academy was silent, last night's laughter still echoing in his bones.

Group 32 victorious, wild, and free. He glanced once over his shoulder, half-expecting Rei's voice to cut through the quiet, but their friend had vanished into the dark, smirking about a rematch "when Sydney can actually keep her eyes open."

Katsu took a deep breath, tightening his hold around Sydney's knees. "Almost home," he murmured, not that she could hear.

With a familiar rush, mana shimmered beneath his skin. Ancient magic stirring, space warping at his feet.

Blue light crackled, bending the air, and in the next instant they vanished from the quad, reappearing in front of the doors to Keahi's private wing.

The grass was still cool beneath him, wardlight flickering at the edges of the threshold.

He shifted his grip, steadying Sydney as he pressed his palm to the sigil she'd shown him, feeling the heat and the puzzle click open.

Inside, the hall was washed in pre-dawn blue.

Katsu padded softly through the fire-scented quiet, careful not to bump the girl on his back into doorframes or the stacks of books she called furniture. No guards around to catch him.

Sydney's bed.

Bright covers, fire-warmed pillows, half-read spellbooks scattered—waited like it always had.

Katsu eased down onto the edge of Sydney's bed, careful not to disturb the delicate clutter that made it hers—ribbons and notebooks, half-melted candles, a fire charm tucked beneath her pillow. The room was still and dim, dawn just a rumor on the other side of drawn curtains, warmth pooling where the blankets had been turned back.

He shifted his grip, lifting Sydney gently from his back, arms wrapped around her shoulders and knees. For a second, he just held her—feeling the steady rise and fall of her breath, the loose weight of someone who trusted him enough to let go. Then he laid her down, slow and careful, arranging her head on the softest pillow, smoothing the hair from her cheek.

She burrowed into the covers instinctively, drawing the warmth around her, a strand of copper-gold hair falling across her eyes. Her lips twitched, dream-soft, as if she was fighting a smile.

Katsu pulled the blanket up to her chin, tucking it in so she'd stay warm, letting his fingers linger on the edge just a moment too long. He wanted to remember this—Sydney, fierce and untouchable by day, peaceful and almost fragile by night.

He straightened, ready to slip away before she woke.

But as he turned, her voice floated up—small, rough with sleep but clear.

"Thank you, Katsu."

He paused in the doorway, one hand braced on the frame, caught by surprise. Her eyes were half-lidded, watching him from the space between dreams.

He hesitated, searching her face for something clever, something true. The words didn't come. Instead, he found himself smiling, and after a beat, he answered, voice soft.

"Thank you, Sunfire."

He let the word hang there, letting it settle—a nickname born in a moment, bright and golden as the first edge of dawn. Sydney blinked, confused for a heartbeat, and then her smile answered his.

Katsu lingered just a moment longer, committing the scene to memory—the way her room smelled of smoke and citrus, the gentle hush of early morning, the comfort of warmth and trust.

Then, without another word, he let the mana pool at his feet. Blue light flickered, the air bending around him, and he vanished from the Keahi quarters—teleporting back into the chill quiet of the quad, dew soaking his boots, the sky still holding its breath.

For once, the world felt safe. Almost gentle.

Katsu dropped onto the bed, face-first into the pillow, barely dragging the sheets over his hips. Before he could even settle, a weight—cool and familiar—coiled in tight behind him. Limbs slid over his back and ribs, the shape of her body pressed all along his side, chin propped on his shoulder.

"I called dibs on this seat."

His eyes stayed shut. "...Right. Sure you did."

"Mmmhm." Her lips brushed his jaw, then she pressed a kiss just below his ear, her voice dripping mischief. "I wish you'd treat me like one of those jelly pastries…"

A lazy half-grin pulled at his mouth. "You want me to eat you?"

She snuggled closer, pressing her chest into his back, her arms locked around his middle. "Yes, but you know the ones with jelly inside? The ones that burst when you bite down… I'd take whichever one leaves you spent first."

He let out a soft, tired chuckle, shifting under her weight, one arm reaching back to pull her closer beneath the blankets. "...I'm tired, Levii."

She only tightened her hold, legs tangling with his, breath warm on his neck. "I'm not."

He was quiet for a beat, then sighed—half smile, half surrender. "You call me your king?… Listen to me and just fall asleep with me."

She hummed against his back, satisfied, her smile settling into the crook of his neck. Her arms didn't loosen, but her breath deepened, matching his.

They didn't speak again. The room fell into stillness, their bodies tucked into each other like puzzle pieces, warm and steady beneath the hush of early morning.

The last thing Katsu felt was the soft weight of her beside him, the whisper of her hair across his skin, and the steady rhythm of two heartbeats finally resting.

Then the dark took him.