Academy Gardens – The Next Morning
Arthur arrived at one of the Academy's gardens, his steps slowing as he entered the quiet space. Normally, this place was for students looking to relax, unwind, and enjoy the peaceful scenery. But he wasn't here for that. He was here for a meeting—one that had his stomach twisting with nerves.
He glanced around, shifting on his feet. The minutes stretched on unbearably, each one feeling like an eternity. Just as he started wondering if she would actually come, a familiar voice called out from behind him.
"Hey, Arthur."
He turned and saw Cora approaching. The sight of her made his breath catch for a moment—she was wearing a casual student uniform instead of the usual training gear. It was a simple outfit, but somehow, it made her beauty stand out even more.
"Hey, Cora," he greeted, sitting down as she did the same.
For a second, the silence between them felt heavy, but thankfully, Cora took the lead before it could stretch too long.
"So, have you heard about that new app that just came out?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.
Arthur blinked. "Uh, no? What app?"
"It's this game where you raise a little virtual dragon. You have to train it, feed it, and battle other players. Everyone in Song Academy is obsessed with it."
Arthur chuckled awkwardly. "That… actually sounds kind of fun."
"It is! But the problem is, my dragon is an absolute disaster." Cora sighed dramatically, leaning back. "It keeps getting itself into fights it can't win, and instead of training, it just runs around like an idiot."
Arthur snorted. "So, what you're saying is, it takes after you?"
Cora gasped in mock offense. "Excuse me?! I'll have you know I'm much more strategic than that dumb little lizard."
Arthur smirked. "Right, right. I'm sure all those ridiculous plans you came up with back in the day were very strategic."
Cora playfully rolled her eyes. "Okay, some of them worked!"
They continued chatting, exchanging small jokes and stories about their respective academies. Bit by bit, the tension faded, and the awkwardness from earlier melted away. For a moment, it felt like the old days—before everything had gone wrong.
After a while, Arthur took a deep breath. He had been waiting for the right moment, and now that the conversation had settled into something comfortable, he finally asked the question that had been on his mind.
"So… why did you join Song Academy?"
Cora's smile faltered slightly. She went quiet, staring down at the grass as if searching for the right words. Arthur noticed the way her fingers clenched slightly over her knee.
"Well… it's a bit complicated," she admitted. "But it all started when we had that fight."
Arthur frowned, memories of the past resurfacing.
Five Years Earlier – The Dojo
It had started like any ordinary day. The scent of polished wood and sweat filled the dojo as students trained, the rhythmic clash of practice swords echoing through the hall. Everything was as it should be.
Then, the first awakening happened.
A student—one of their classmates—discovered their ability, and soon after, others followed. One by one, the students around Arthur and Cora awakened their powers, their excited shouts filling the air. It was everything they had been waiting for. Arthur and Cora had spent years dreaming of this moment, longing for the day they, too, would gain their abilities and step onto the path of becoming the strongest swordsmen.
And then, just like that, it happened. They awakened.
At first, it felt like a dream come true. The dojo began holding extra lessons to help the newly awakened students learn how to use their abilities, and Arthur was eager to prove himself. He had always been one of the best, standing side by side with Cora. He had no doubt that, ability or not, he would continue to hold his own.
But that was when everything went wrong.
The instructors examined his power, then hesitated. He could still remember their cautious expressions, the careful way they explained it to him.
A conditional ability.
It wasn't something he could just use like the others. He needed to discover the exact conditions required to activate it. They told him he could still be strong—if he figured it out. If he worked hard enough.
He had believed them.
For months, Arthur pushed himself harder than ever, trying everything he could think of to trigger his ability. But no matter what he did, nothing worked. He watched as his classmates flourished, as their abilities made them stronger, faster, and more powerful than ever. At first, he could still compete—his skills had always been sharp, and he had trained too long to fall behind immediately.
But it didn't last.
As his opponents grew stronger, his own edge dulled. Their abilities made skill unnecessary. They could overpower him with brute force, with raw talent, with something he simply didn't have. One by one, they all surpassed him.
The losing streak started small—a match here, a sparring session there. But soon, he couldn't win against anyone. The only one he could still hold his ground against was Cora, and even that felt like it was slipping away.
And then came the whispers.
The stares.
The pity.
At first, it was just the other students—mocking him when he lost, scoffing when he failed to awaken his ability. But then, the teachers stopped looking at him the same way. He could see it in their eyes when they corrected his form, when they watched his fights. Poor Arthur, their gazes seemed to say. He was so talented before this.
The dojo became suffocating.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't escape the truth—he was weak. And everyone knew it.
So, he made a decision.
He was going to leave.
It was the only way. Staying meant drowning in their judgment, in their pity. It meant watching his hard work become meaningless. He refused
His bag was packed, his footsteps heavy as he made his way toward the dojo's entrance. He didn't look back. He couldn't.
But just as he reached the door, a voice called out behind him.
"Arthur, wait!"
He froze. He knew that voice.
Turning, he saw Cora standing there, her expression full of something unreadable—concern, hesitation, maybe even sadness. He didn't want to see it.
"I know it's been hard," she said gently. "But I know you can become stronger. Even without an ability. Just… please, don't leave."
Arthur clenched his fists. His chest burned with frustration, with resentment, with something he couldn't even name.
"JUST SHUT UP!"
His own voice startled him, echoing through the dojo like a whip crack. Cora flinched.
Arthur took a step forward, eyes burning with anger. "I don't need your pity!"
Cora's lips parted, but no words came out.
"W-what? No, I'm not—"
"Don't lie to me!" His voice shook. "You think I don't know? Ever since people found out I have a conditional ability, they've been looking down on me! Even the teachers! Even you!" His breathing was ragged now. "You're all the same… whispering behind my back, pretending like you believe in me while watching me fail over and over again.
Arthur's breaths were ragged, his chest rising and falling unevenly. His vision blurred—not with tears, but with fury, frustration, and something deeper, something he didn't want to name. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, nails digging into his palms.
Cora stood frozen in front of him, her lips parted, eyes wide with something between confusion and hurt. But Arthur couldn't stop now. The dam had already broken.
"And it's all your fault."
Cora flinched like he had struck her.
Arthur took another step forward, his voice raw. "No one knew about my condition. No one—except for the teachers and you." His hands trembled. "The teachers would never say anything. Ability classes are private. Information about our abilities is private. So tell me, Cora—if I never told anyone else, who else could have spread it?"
"I—" Cora opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
Arthur let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "That's what I thought." His voice was quieter now, but it carried more weight. More finality. "I trusted you."
Cora's expression crumbled, her mouth moving soundlessly, struggling to form words. To explain. To deny.
But Arthur didn't give her the chance.
His grip tightened on the strap of his bag as he turned away. "I'm leaving. Lose my number," he muttered, his voice almost too quiet to hear.
And then he walked toward the door.
He didn't stop.
He didn't look back.
But behind him, Cora's voice broke through the heavy silence.
"Please, wait! No—this is a mistake! Arthur, wait!"
Her voice cracked, desperation bleeding into every word.
But Arthur didn't stop.
Even as his chest ached. Even as something inside him screamed to turn around.
He didn't stop.