The silence in the training hall was heavy, broken only by the aggressive hiss of steam where the black ice met the fire. The students in the balcony were paralyzed.
"Did you see that?!" a student yelled, breaking the trance. "Black ice?!"
Seri stood at the railing, her knuckles white as she gripped the cold metal. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, not out of fear, but out of a terrifying realization. Yuki was a royal.
Royals were families composed of nothing but powerful kizo users and always had great financial advantages. They were practically celebrity billionaires with kizo. Always extremely powerful.
Seri Kyorin herself was a Royal as well, but Yuki was from the Kinatarou family. One of the most powerful, wealthiest and well known families. The Kinatarou were practically seen as beings on a higher plain of existence.
I'm sooo stupid. Yuki is a Kinatarou and I never even noticed it. His last name has been staring me in the face ever since I met him. I'm even more dense than he is.
Seri internally cursed herself. She also wondered why she realized this only after seeing his black ice. Kinatarou name is so legendary that most people assume anyone with that name must be a relative or a commoner with a coincidence—it's "too big to be true," which is why she didn't believe it at first.
Yuki stood amidst the steam, but the "wicked smile" was gone. His vision blurred, and the edges of his glasses felt like they weighed ten pounds. The black ice hadn't just used his Ki; it had drained him like a vacuum. Every muscle in his body felt like it had been turned to lead.
"Kira..." Yuki spoke, his breath coming in shallow gasps. "I can't... move."
A panicked voiced sounded in his ear. "Yuki! Get out of there! Your core is empty! You're out of ki!"
Renjiro, sensing the shift, forced himself up. He was scorched and panting, but he saw the way Yuki's head was drooping. A cruel, desperate grin twisted his face.
"So... it was just a final spark," Renjiro wheezed. "You're empty, aren't you?"
Renjiro didn't go for a grand technique this time. He just raised a shaking hand and fired a concentrated Fireball. It wasn't the sun, but it was enough.
Yuki tried to lift his arms to block, but they wouldn't obey. The fireball slammed into his chest.
BOOM.
Yuki was thrown backward, sliding across the mat until he lay still, smoke rising from his singed uniform. He didn't move. He wasn't dead, but the lights were out.
Sato-sensei appeared instantly beside Yuki, his eyes hidden behind his bangs. "Match over! Winner: Renjiro Kurosawa!"
The crowd erupted, but the cheers felt hollow. Renjiro stood in the center, his chest heaving, looking at his shaking hands. He had won the "official" fight, but everyone in the room knew they had just witnessed a miracle from the loser. Whatever that black ice was, they all knew it wasn't something a regular kizo user could do.
Seri was already moving, vaulting over the railing and landing gracefully on the mat before the echoes of the cheers had even died down. She pushed past Sato-sensei, kneeling beside Yuki and checking his pulse.
"Sato-sensei, he needs the infirmary." Her voice low and sharp.
Sato-sensei simply nodded before picking Yuki up.
The first thing Yuki felt was the smell of antiseptic and the hum of a ki-stabilizer. His chest felt heavy, and his limbs were tingling as if they had fallen asleep. He groaned, the memory of the fireball hitting his chest coming back in a flash of heat.
"Don't try to sit up yet, Wrecking Ball. You're currently running on fumes."
Yuki blinked his eyes open. He wasn't alone. The infirmary was private, shielded by heavy curtains, and sitting right at the edge of his bed was Seri Kyorin. She had discarded her blazer, her white dress shirt unbuttoned slightly at the collar, and she was leaning forward with her chin resting on her hand.
"Kyorin-san, did I lose?" He rubbed his head and asked.
"On paper? Yes. Renjiro is currently being hailed as the victor, though he looks like he wants to vomit from the shame of how close he came to a coma." Seri smiled lightly while her eyes were locked on his face.
This was the first time she'd seen him with his glasses off. He could easily pass as a model, his light blue eyes were unreal, and his messy black hair fell just above his eyes.
She moved closer, proceeding to sit on the bed. The bed dipped under her weight. Before Yuki could react, she reached out and placed her hand directly over his heart, her fingers warm against his shirt.
"Your heart is incredibly loud, Yuki. Is it because of the Ki exhaustion... or is it because I'm sitting this close?"
Yuki's face turned a shade of red that rivaled Renjiro's flames. "I... I think it's the exhaustion! My body is just confused!"
Seri chuckled lightly. "You're a terrible liar. It's charming."
She began to unbutton the top of his singed uniform to check the burn from the fireball. "Let's see how much damage that hot-head did to—"
She stopped mid-sentence. Her breath caught in her throat.
As the fabric fell away, she didn't see a fresh burn from Renjiro. Instead, her eyes landed on a massive, jagged scar that slashed across his torso, stretching from his right shoulder all the way down to the left side of his abdomen. It wasn't a clean surgical mark; it looked like it had been carved by something brutal.
Seri's voice trembled slightly. "Yuki... this scar. Where did you get something like this? This isn't from training."
The atmosphere shifted instantly. The warm, playful air in the room turned ice-cold. Yuki's eyes, usually bright and energetic, went dull. He didn't look at her; he looked at the ceiling, his jaw tightening.
Without a word, Yuki grabbed the edges of his shirt and yanked them shut, clutching the fabric to his chest with trembling hands. He rolled away from her, curling slightly into a defensive ball.
"It's nothing. Just an accident from a long time ago. Please... don't look at it." His voice falling flat and hollow.
Seri sat back, stunned. The boy who had just faced a Paragon with a smile was now looking small and broken. She realized she had stepped onto a landmine she didn't know existed.