Academism (7)
“Kieek—!!”
My gaze naturally turns that way. On the opposite side of the plaza. Amid the Justice Realization Department students, there's a black shadow. Disheveled hair. A beast-like crouch. And a killing intent that seems ready to pounce at any moment. The very air feels different. It's as if they've forcibly molded the wild beast school of art into human form.
Raw, unrefined emotions overflow unchecked. Hasumi follows my line of sight and turns her head.
“…Ah.”
“That's Tsurugi Kenzaki.”
“She's from Trinity's Justice Realization Department… um.”
She pauses for a moment.
“…She's a bit shy.”
…Shy?
I glance back at Tsurugi. The moment our eyes meet, her body flinches—
“Eek?!”
She flails her arms, her face flushing red. And moments later.
Thud thud!! A sound like kicking something echoes as she starts fumbling around on her own.
…Ah. I see.
Tsurugi dithers for a while before finally approaching us. Her steps are unsteady, but the momentum coiled within them remains utterly unshaken. The closer she gets, the more vividly I feel it.
She stops right in front of me, her face stiff, and mumbles awkwardly.
“T-Tsurugi… is my name…”
“K-Kenzaki Tsurugi…”
Her face turns beet red, practically bursting, as she bows her head sharply.
“P-Please take care of meee—!!”
The surrounding Justice Realization Department students let out familiar sighs. But I quietly watch her for a moment.
Emotions bursting out uncontrollably. Exaggeratedly honest reactions. And that clumsy shyness that doesn't match the sharp aura I felt just moments ago at all.
…A laugh slips out somehow. She's so pure. It's like a child's feelings are preserved intact within the form of a fierce beast.
I smile softly and extend my hand to her.
“I'm Rakuka Yumesakai.”
“Please take care of me from now on, Tsurugi-san.”
Tsurugi stares at my hand with a frozen expression. Then, moments later, she carefully grasps it with her trembling hand.
“…!”
In that instant, my fingertips unconsciously drift toward my waist. They slowly stroke the hilt of Coste.
…She's strong. Equivalent to a Rank 3 fixer… on par with some exceptional Students. If I'm being generous, she might even reach the level of an average Rank 2 fixer.
Of course, she falls far short of a Maestro's domain… but that's still an intimidating presence. The fact that such a student blends in so naturally… That might just be Trinity's way.
Once the greeting with Tsurugi ends, the Justice Realization Department students start moving again. In the center of the plaza, representatives from each academy are already gathering one by one. Trinity's teachers. Delegates from the sister academies. And atop the central stairs.
A group draws particularly intense gazes. Those must be them. Trinity's student council executives.
Impeccably tailored uniforms. Unwavering poise. Students accustomed to standing above others.
On the opposite side, the Wild Hunt Student Council President steps forward slowly with their executives. The representatives from both academies face each other. Even the surrounding air grows hushed.
“…We are grateful for Trinity's warm welcome.”
“…The honor is ours, to host such esteemed guests.”
Formal, dignified greetings. Yet woven naturally within are each academy's prestige, authority, and a subtle tension. It's like the moments just before a grand theater's curtain rises.
I stand slightly back, quietly savoring the scene. These so-called elites are fascinating. Even a single greeting reveals class, order, pride, politics, emotion, and calculation.
Especially Trinity's student council executives—their every movement is elegantly refined. Probably the result of rigorous training.
“…Yumesakai-san.”
Hasumi approaches quietly.
“The exhibition hall preparations are nearly complete.”
“I'll guide you there right away.”
Ah. We've already reached the final stage.
“Hehe… That's fast.”
The Justice Realization Department students naturally form a perimeter as we begin moving. I follow slowly, cradling Coste in my arms, toward the inner corridor.
Pure white marble floors. High ceilings where stained glass casts long colors. As I walk, admiring the scenery—
Someone approaches from the opposite end of the corridor. At the same moment, the students' atmosphere shifts. Tension. Rigidity. And a natural distance.
Three students walk slowly toward us. Flawless steps. Meticulously arranged uniforms. An air of naturally lording over others. The surrounding students part the way instinctively.
My eyes meet one of them.
“…It's been a while, Kirifuji-san.”
At my words, she blinks ever so slightly. Then she offers a composed smile.
“…You remember me.”
“We exchanged brief greetings during the last Wild Hunt visit.”
Utterly unflappable. She elegantly clasps her fingertips and bows her head.
“Allow me to greet you properly. I am Nagisa Kirifuji, from Trinity's Tea Party, candidate for the next Pater faction leader.”
I bow my head slowly, hugging Coste close.
“I'm Rakuka Yumesakai from Wild Hunt Art Academy. It's an honor to meet you.”
Next, the pink-haired student beside her leans in with a bright smile.
“Nice to meet you~ I'm Mika Misono~☆”
“…Or should I say, candidate for the next Pater faction leader?”
Light, friendly tone. But the pressure hidden beneath that smile is anything but light. She's dangerous in the exact opposite way from Tsurugi.
If Tsurugi is raw beast, this one is a honed blade. Even as she smiles casually, there's a tension like she could slice through anyone at any moment.
By the way, did you hear that, Coste? Misono, she says. Is this the cousin you mentioned?Quite a different vibe from you.
…Oh my. You'll protect me, so no worries?That's reassuring. Of course I trust you. No sister ever beats her sibling, after all.
And finally. A small student with golden-glowing hair steps forward quietly.
“…Seia Yurizono, candidate for Sanctus faction leader.”
Short and plain introduction. But—her gaze is unnaturally cold.
Her golden eyes linger briefly on the black sheath in my arms… then slowly rise.
Interesting person. I bow my head demurely.
“I'm Rakuka Yumesakai.”
“Please take care of me during this exchange event.”
A brief silence. Then Mika speaks first, laughing.
“Actually, rumors were flying between academies even before the event started~ ☆.”
“They say the main exhibitor this time is some genius prodigy that uptight Wild Hunt cherishes or whatever?”
“I figured you'd be some weirdo, but you look surprisingly normal~ ☆.”
So straightforward. A small laugh escapes me.
“Disappointed?”
“Hm~ No? Might even like you a bit~?”
Mika grins playfully. Meanwhile, Nagisa adds calmly.
“This public exhibition has high expectations even within Trinity.”
“We look forward to impressive results.”
Textbook greeting. But types like that are easy to handle.
At that moment. Yurizono-san speaks quietly.
“Did you create all the works for the exhibition yourself?”
“Of course. From design to construction, all done by my own hands.”
“…I see.”
Short reply. She stares at me silently for a while.
Moments later, Nagisa smiles elegantly again.
“Then we'll take our leave. See you at the exchange event tomorrow.”
The three turn slowly. But.
“…One moment.”
Only Seia stops. Nagisa and Mika glance back quietly.
Seia pauses in silence, then continues in a very calm voice.
“I'd like to speak with Yumesakai-san alone for a bit.”
The corridor air sinks. Hasumi's face shows a flicker of surprise. Mika, reading the mood, laughs awkwardly.
“Huh~? It's rare for Seia-chan to hold someone back first.”
Nagisa gazes at Seia wordlessly, then closes her eyes briefly.
“Understood.”
“We'll head on ahead.”
And the two disappear into the inner corridor. Left behind are just Seia and me.
Seia stares at me wordlessly for a while, then slowly turns.
“…Let's go somewhere quiet first.”
What an odd person. But. Somehow, I'm a little excited.
Seia stops at a parlor at the end of the corridor, where few people pass. And she slowly speaks.
“…I have something to ask.”
I nod with a quiet smile.
“Anything.”
Seia's golden eyes fix straight on me.
“Cancel the public exhibition now.”
…A moment of bewilderment rises, but I keep my smile and look at her.
“…I'm afraid I don't follow.”
Seia doesn't blink.
“I know what you'll do tomorrow.”
“And that it will drag not just you… but everyone around you into ruin.”
I close my eyes slightly at her words.
“Hmm… I truly have no idea what you're talking about.”
“No use playing innocent.”
Seia continues calmly.
“I see prophetic dreams. Very clearly.”
“In that dream… blood and screams… and you, standing at the center amid impaled corpses.”
…My thoughts freeze internally for a moment. Prophetic dreams? Intriguing—but honestly, sounds absurd.
But outwardly, I smile as if soothing a child.
“…Trinity has so many interesting people.”
“Unfortunately, I still don't understand what you mean.”
A brief silence. Then Seia adds very quietly.
“…A few weeks ago.”
“The massive grave robbery at the cemetery near Wild Hunt Academy.”
“I know you were the culprit.”
…
“…Pardon?”
My fingertips halt. The parlor falls so still even the drifting dust seems frozen.
She knows about the grave robbery too. A singularity? Or does she really have some supernatural power?
But I soon smile softly again.
“…How intriguing. You saw that far?”
I slowly lift my gaze to her.
“Then you must already know how long I've prepared for this exhibition.”
Seia's eyes waver faintly.
“…Why do something like that? Just for an exhibition?”
I close my eyes thoughtfully.
“…Humans are strange creatures.”
“They claim to love truth… yet turn away from the most beautiful truths.”
My fingertips unconsciously stroke the sheath.
“How flesh and bone support each other to form a single shape.”
“How delicately life hangs in balance.”
“I just wanted to show them that.”
“…Madness.”
She cuts in decisively.
“…You don't see people as people.”
“No, not even that—to you, others are mere tools for your art.”
I blink for a moment.
“Finally, someone understands my philosophy. That's what I've been saying all along.”
Seia's expression hardens.
“You're no artist.”
“Just a madman filling his voids with others' bodies.”
In that instant. The smile on my lips freezes, ever so slightly. Just a fleeting moment.
But I smile again.
“Voids… madman… Harsh words.”
“But that's fine. True art is never understood at first, by anyone.”
“Still, someday everyone will grasp the beauty I saw.”
Seia exhales lowly.
“…The outcome won't change.”
“I'll stop you, by any means.”
“Hm…”
I close my eyes, hugging the sheath. The cold touch against my fingertips slows my quickened breath.
It's okay, Coste. Not yet.So don't get angry.Just a little longer, alright?
“By the way, Yurizono-san. Do you like birds?”
“…What sudden talk is this?”
“Birds are truly fascinating creatures. Fierce, sharp beaks, desperately flapping tiny bodies.”
“But at the same time, so fragile. To gain the power of flight, they've sacrificed so much.”
“A single broken wing bone, and they plummet. A slightly crushed breastbone, and they can't even breathe.”
“To me, you look just like a bird right now, Yurizono-san.”
“A little bullfinch, thrashing wildly in ignorance.”
Seia's eyebrows tremble. But she says nothing in the end.
“…And if I wished, clipping your wings and stuffing you wouldn't be hard at all.”
Before I know it, my thumb slowly pushes up Coste's hilt.
Click. A short, sharp metallic sound seeps into the parlor.
…
Seia steps back one pace. An instantaneous movement. But unmistakably instinctive distancing.
Her golden eyes waver. I blink at the sight.
And soon, I smile very softly.
“…Ah, sorry.”
“Coste must be a bit sensitive.”
As my fingertips lightly stroke the sheath, the cold tremor slowly subsides.
The corridor air chills in an instant.
“…Just in case, but if you're thinking of mobilizing the Justice Realization Department, best to reconsider.”
“I don't yet have the capacity for an impromptu audience participation exhibit.”
“Sacrifices without artistic value… would be regrettable for both of us, no?”
“…You!”
Seia's voice shakes loudly for the first time. I bow my head demurely.
“I trust you'll make a wise judgment.”
And I walk past her.
After a few steps. A laugh slips out.
“…More than that, Yurizono-san.”
Seia stands frozen, looking back.
“That speech pattern… doesn't suit you at all.”
“You're so small, it just sounds… heh, theatrical.”
“Yes, like a child mimicking a tragic lead.”
“…”
Seia says nothing for a long while. Only her golden eyes quiver quietly.
But I don't look back anymore.
Light through the stained glass spreads long across the corridor. I walk slowly through it.
Clack. Clack. My heels echo softly in the quiet hall.
The weight of Coste in my arms. And the faint afternoon light spilling beyond the windows.
Such a beautiful moment. Tomorrow, the curtain finally rises.
My first exhibition, completed after countless incisions, rearrangements, and deliberations.
This time… everyone will see it, in the end.
Ah. Come to think of it.
Was the blood pressure a bit much?