Last of the Golden Week
The morning air was too still.
Eiji Kuroryuu opened his eyes to the dim glow of sunlight leaking through the half-closed blinds of the dorm room. No alarm blared. No Amane shouting. Just silence—thick and oddly heavy, like the world held its breath.
He sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. His usual quip died in his throat before it could form.
"…Tch." He clicked his tongue and stared at his hands for a moment. A brief flicker of violet-black energy shimmered around his palm… then vanished. Controlled. Caged. For now.
There was a knock. No—more like a kick.
"Oi, Mr. perverted devil," Miya's muffled voice echoed through the door. "Still alive in there, or did your fashion sense finally kill you in your sleep?"
"Depends," Eiji muttered. "Is it too late to fake a coma and skip the war?"
The door creaked open before he could move.
Amane popped her head in, already dressed in her uniform—minus the ribbon, which she'd likely forgotten again. "You're awake," she said, voice oddly gentle. "We're eating downstairs… just in case it's our last normal breakfast."
"That's morbid," Eiji said.
She smiled faintly. "Realistic."
Miya followed behind, arms crossed, expression unreadable as usual. But her gaze lingered a little longer than normal on Eiji.
"…You don't get to die," she said flatly. "Not before I beat the hell out of you in training again."
Eiji grinned despite himself. "Romantic as always."
"I wasn't joking."
"Neither was I."
Ayaka stood just behind them in the hall, sipping tea from a thermos. She raised an eyebrow at the scene.
"If we're finished with the morning sitcom," she said, voice cool and measured, "I suggest we conserve some energy. The battlefield won't pause for melodrama."
Amane tilted her head, a curious glint in her eye.
"Are you nervous, Ayaka?"
Ayaka took another slow sip of her tea, then exhaled softly. She set the cup down with a soft clink, her lips curling into a rare, subtle smile.
"…Nervous?" she repeated, almost amused. "Maybe a little. Even if I am now, does that even Matter right now?"
She straightened up, her voice growing steadier, almost passionate in its quiet intensity.
"What matters is that we're stepping onto that battlefield not for glory or pride—but for the person who brought us this far. For our master. The one we chose to follow."
Her fingers gently brushed the rim of her cup.
"It's more than just duty now. It's personal. I'll fight—not because I have to, but because I want to. And I won't let anyone hurt Sera in any way."
Then, softly—Amane asked, "Are we ready for war… just because we're told to win?"
No one answered.
Not immediately.
Eiji looked away, hand resting on the doorknob, knuckles whitening slightly.
Ready?
He wasn't sure anyone could ever be ready for something like this.
Especially not when…
No. He didn't finish the thought.
Instead, he let out a long breath, then forced a crooked grin onto his face.
"Well," he said with a shrug and mock cheer, "no one knows what'll happen tomorrow… so I'm calling dibs on the breakfast sausages."
He jabbed a thumb at his chest, eyes glinting with mischief.
"If I'm going out today, I'm going out full—and smug."
The room didn't quite laugh, but the heaviness lightened—just a little.
The tension cracked—just a little.
Ayaka rolled her eyes with a soft scoff, muttering something under her breath.
Amane giggled, her shoulders finally relaxing for the first time that morning.
Even Miya's lips twitched—barely, but enough to be noticed.
Heavy with anticipation, the room felt a touch lighter—just for a moment.
But elsewhere, behind a closed door at the end of the hallway, no such ease existed.
Seraphina stood in silence.
She hadn't slept.
The first light of dawn filtered through her window, casting long shadows across the floor. Her family's silver crest pin glinted faintly in the morning's golden hue, waiting to be worn and wielded.
Her fingers hesitated only once as she reached for it. A subtle tremble—barely visible—rippled through her hand. She paused, then placed her palm over her heart.
Inhale.
Hold.
Exhale.
The trembling stopped.
With mechanical grace, she clipped the pin to her chest and straightened. Her reflection in the window stared back—proud, composed… and not quite calm.
Her gaze drifted to the blade resting beside the door. She walked to it. No hesitation now.
She picked it up.
The metal hummed faintly in her grasp as if sensing her resolve.
Then came the soft, final click of her door unlocking.
The final morning had begun.
And somewhere between breath and battle…
…the calm had already started to shatter.
The next day Before The Game
It was the Research Club meeting room—walls still cracked from past club skirmishes, windows fogged with condensation, and a table large enough for strategy or blood sacrifice, depending on the day.
Seraphina stood at the head, silent as ever, her golden eyes gleaming. A swirling magic circle appeared above the table, projecting a holographic map of Kusunogi High.
Only… it wasn't their Kusunogi. It was twisted. Mirror-like. A Hollow World version layered inside a reality-sealed barrier—this was the Arcane Game Battlefield.
The room dimmed as her magic pulsed.
"Zone A through F," she began, tone clipped, "each with elevation shifts, artificial magic currents, and environmental triggers designed to enhance or obstruct movement."
She pointed at the projection. "Victory conditions are simple—take out the enemy King. Every other piece is a tool or a shield. We win if I survive and the opposing Queen falls."
The group stood around her in silence.
"Riku. Ayaka. You'll be our vanguards. Direct assault and push."
Ayaka cracked her knuckles. "Finally."
Riku only nodded, expression unreadable as always.
"Miya," Seraphina continued, "your spirit summons will scout ahead, disrupt enemy sensors, and keep tabs on their formation."
Miya gave a slight bow. "Understood."
"Amane—you're my support. You will maintain Barrier link formation and also be responsible for health restoration,"
Amane smiled gently. "Understood. I'll protect you as Always."
Seraphina's eyes softened for a second, but only barely.
"And Eiji…"
.
"You'll be assigned as secondary support to Miya," the voice said firmly. "Your job is simple—stay close, back her up, and don't let anyone through."
A pause followed.
Heavy. Measured.
Like the calm before a thunderclap.
Then—
"Nope," Eiji said.
"…Excuse me?" Seraphina blinked.
"I volunteer for the Vanguard role," Eiji said, leaning back in his chair like he was talking about lunch. "Put me where the enemy's strongest. Head-on. I'll take care of it."
Silence fell.
No—it crashed like a sudden thunderclap.
Ayaka's head snapped toward him. Her expression said everything before she even opened her mouth.
"Are you brain-dead?"
Eiji just grinned. "Probably."
"That wasn't a compliment."
Miya's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Her tone was calm but carried a sharpened edge beneath the surface. "Your role is already critical enough. A reckless charge won't win this."
Eiji didn't flinch. His voice didn't rise, didn't waver. But there was something solid beneath the words now—steel behind the smile.
"Let me take the risk. I can handle it. I won't break."
Across the room, Seraphina's gaze locked onto him. For a heartbeat, no one else spoke.
Then—
"Denied," she said, arms crossing over her chest like a drawbridge slamming shut. "You'll do as you're told. You're not a sacrificial piece."
"But—"
"I said no." Her voice was firmer this time, maybe sharper than she intended. "You'll fight beside Miya. That's final."
Eiji clicked his tongue and turned his head away but didn't argue further.
He knew better.
The room exhaled, tension slipping out in uncomfortable waves. Ayaka muttered something about idiots and assignments. Miya didn't speak—but her gaze lingered. For once, it wasn't cold or critical. Just… quietly watching. And maybe, buried beneath the usual frost, there was concern.
Not pity. Concern.
Assignments were handed out, formation zones confirmed, and the team began to move—some collecting gear, others mentally checking out. The thick buzz of latent magic filled the air like humidity before a storm.
Seraphina remained where she was, just off to the side—not interfering. Not yet. Her golden eyes flicked toward Eiji as he laughed at one of Ayaka's sarcastic jabs. His laughter came quickly—too quickly. Too easy.
It didn't quite reach his eyes.
She saw the shadow behind his grin. There is a slight pause before each joke. The way he always seemed a half-step away from somewhere else.
He was masking something.
Of course, he was.
Her arms folded again, but slower this time. Not from irritation. From calculation. Doubt. Worry.
"He's planning something," she thought, brow tightening ever so slightly. "I can feel it in the way he moves… the way he avoids looking me in the eye too long."
But she didn't confront him. Not yet.
"Let him play his hand. If he's hiding something… I want to see it. All of it. Not the mask. Not the jokes. I want to see him."
And when the time came—when the battlefield stripped everyone bare—she'd be watching.
Not as a commander.
Not even as a devil noble.
But as someone who couldn't look away.
The halls leading to the barrier gate were quiet—too quiet—the quiet that comes just before something breaks.
The Arcane Game would begin in minutes.
Miya found him.
Eiji leaned against a cold marble pillar, arms folded, eyes unfocused.
"You look stupid when you think," Miya said dryly.
"Thanks. I try," he replied, not even flinching.
She stepped closer, hands behind her back. "Listen. Don't go dying, pervert."
Eiji raised an eyebrow.
"Without my permission," she added flatly. "You still have some uses."
He blinked. Then smirked. "Are you flirting with me or threatening me?"
"Yes."
Before he could retort, she brushed past him, but not without a rare glance over her shoulder.
"…Don't screw this up."
He watched her go, smile fading into something smaller. More real.
Then came Amane, practically skipping toward the group with a tiny pouch clutched.
"Alright, team!" she beamed. "I made these for all of us!"
Ayaka squinted. "What the hell is that? A beanbag?"
"Nooo, it's a handmade good luck charm!" Amane puffed her cheeks. "Woven with thread blessed by a shrine maiden from my mom's hometown!"
Eiji took his, inspecting the uneven stitches. "Are shrine maidens allowed to use pink glitter glue?"
"Don't be rude! The sparkles are for mana conduction!"
Ayaka poked hers skeptically. "Mine's vibrating."
"…Oh. That one might be cursed."
Riku, silent until now, approached Eiji with his charm tucked into his belt.
"You seem too relaxed for a man walking into an artificial battlefield."
Eiji shrugged. "If I start panicking now, I'll run out of breath before the fun starts."
Riku didn't smile. He rarely did.
"You hide behind jokes. I get it." He looked ahead. "But remember—this isn't a game."
Eiji turned serious. "I know."
Riku nodded once. "Good. Then survive."
They didn't shake hands. Just… an unspoken acknowledgment passed between them. And that was enough.
The timer ticked down.
Five minutes.
Seraphina stood at the center—poised, unreadable, every inch a queen.
But her gaze found Eiji.
He was walking toward the gate now. Joking with Amane. Smirking at Miya. Letting Miya slap him upside the head.
But his steps were just a little slower. His posture is just a little heavier.
She reached out as he passed.
Her fingers caught his wrist.
He stopped.
For a heartbeat, neither said a word.
She didn't look him in the eye. But she didn't let go.
That slight touch—subtle, fragile—was louder than any command.
Come back.
Eiji didn't respond. Not out loud.
But he did give her a half-smile that didn't reach his eyes.
And then…
The light from the gate surged.
The world began to shift.
And the curtain finally rose.
Kusunogi High School
It began with a hum—low, slow like the universe inhaling.
Then, the light fractured.
A ring of magic inscribed with ancient runes burst forth from the central crystal atop the school clock tower. In an instant, the sky cracked like glass. Colors bent unnaturally, reds dripping into greens, blues splitting into violet haze. The world shimmered—then turned.
The air became heavier. Colder. Wrong.
Kusunogi High was no longer Kusunogi High.
The floors shimmered into obsidian glass, reflecting the distorted image of the real world above. Hallways stretched unnaturally long. Desks floated sideways against the walls. Shadows flickered where there were no sources. It was the same school—but viewed through a warped mirror, one with its own rules.
Seraphina's voice echoed through the magical ether:
"Arcane Game Barrier: Activated."
An ethereal map pulsed over the battlefield, glowing zones overlaying twisted versions of school landmarks—the gym, library, courtyard, and rooftop.
No one could leave.
No one could interfere.
No one could cheat… at least, not obviously.
She continued, her voice calm:
"Remember: external magic interference is blocked. Time is slightly slowed. Traps will displace you if triggered—these are layered into the walls and floors. Trust nothing. The environment is not your ally."
Reality fractured further—windows became gates, stairwells curled like Möbius strips, and the school seemed to breathe, pulsing faintly with arcane energy.
And then—
The board was set.
A magical surge swept across the players—each member of Seraphina's peerage enclosed in a teleportation glyph.
One by one, they vanished.
Ayaka landed in the Cafeteria—.
Riku stood on the rooftop, now an endless glass field, the wind whispering secrets in languages long dead. He pulled his blade free and narrowed his eyes.
Miya materialized in the library—shelves tilted sideways like stairs, books floating midair. Her summons shimmered beside her, silent and waiting.
Amane blinked into the nurse's office, a glowing sanctuary with floating runes and warm light. She held her charm. "Stay safe, everyone…"
Eiji opened his eyes in the central courtyard.
Or what used to be the courtyard.
It was a shattered maze of floating platforms, gravity wells, and pulsing teleport traps. Jagged staircases climbed into the sky, only to collapse and rebuild themselves like puzzles that refused to be solved.
He whistled. "Yup. This screams 'die here dramatically.'"
His fingers brushed the edge of his charm from Amane. He didn't throw it away.
He just kept it there.
And far across the board…
A dark flare lit up.
Reignar Ignidrath stood at the top of the mirrored bell tower, his black-and-gold coat fluttering like a flame. Behind him, his elite squad appeared one by one—shrouded, poised, silent.
He smirked.
"Let's give them a twist to remember."
Low. Slow. Like the universe drawing in a breath, unsure if it wanted to exhale.
From atop Kusunogi High's clock tower, the central crystal embedded in the ancient rune-laced spire began to pulse. Faint at first. Then blinding. And then
DONG…
The sound echoed like it came from the depths of the underworld—deep, slow, final.
Above the mirrored school, a massive spectral bell tolled once, sending magic ripples across the sky. A golden flare erupted high above the battlefield, twisting into the shape of a dragon-shaped chess piece before exploding into motes of silver light.
A floating crystal—hovering in the center of the battlefield—lit up.
A voice, smooth and emotionless, resonated through the air:
"Arcane Game: Commence."
Across the board, sigils lit up beneath the players' feet.
Seraphina's voice rang into their minds—telepathy laced with confidence:
"Everyone, move. Stick to the plan. Regroup and scatter according to your zones. Stay focused."
"Roger," Ayaka replied coolly.
"Got it!" Amane chimed.
"…Understood," Miya's voice was firm.
Riku remained silent, but his intent was clear.
Eiji cracked his knuckles, his grin lazy but sharp. "Let's see if this game was worth playing…"
Gymnasium Zone – Miya & Eiji
The old gym was now a battlefield disguised as nostalgia. Bleachers had become twisting staircases. The court floor shimmered with illusion traps. The basketball hoops hovered above like floating execution platforms, their nets made of enchanted wire.
Miya stood still in the shadows, two-spirit wolves by her side.
She scanned the battlefield calmly.
"Pervert," she said flatly. "Move too loudly, and I'll let the traps eat you."
Eiji smirked. "Aw, worried about me already?"
"…Worried about the mission."
They moved slowly, sweeping the perimeter. Miya's summons leaped ahead, checking for hidden enchantments.
But the gym grew colder.
Quieter.
Then—
Thunk.
Something heavy landed behind them.
Miya spun, blades drawn.
Shadows unraveled from the rafters above—five cloaked figures masked in bone white dropped silently around them like reapers falling from the ceiling.
"Ambush," Miya muttered.
"No kidding," Eiji said, stepping forward. "Well, Miya-chan. Guess this is what they meant by full-contact sports."
Outside the Mirror World – Student Council Observation Room
Beyond the barrier, high in the central school tower, a viewing orb flickered with magic. Inside, two figures watched in silence.
Kirika Barbatos, Student Council President—elegant, unreadable, arms folded as if sculpted from ice.
Aika Lucros, Vice President—lounging sideways on a velvet chair, sipping tea.
The orb displayed the mirrored battlefield in real-time.
Aika gave a lazy smirk. "Your ambush squad's in place. Think they'll panic?"
Kirika didn't blink. "If they do, they lose. If they survive, they're worth keeping."
Aika looked at her sideways. "You almost sound interested."
Kirika's golden eyes narrowed on Eiji's figure.
"…He's the wild card."
Courtyard Zone – Seraphina
Seraphina stood atop a magical platform above the distorted courtyard tiles in her zone. But her attention wasn't on the battlefield.
It was on him.
Her thoughts echoed softly, unheard by anyone but herself:
"…Don't die, my devil."
And high above, the magical chessboard that mirrored Kusunogi pulsed with crimson light—
As if someone had just made the first move.
And the blood would soon follow.
[To be continued…]