My Idea of the Ultimate Shadow Commander!

Rose observes the men in black with her honey-colored eyes.

It's been several hours since she's been brought to the auditorium. The

sun has already set, and the warm light from the ceiling illuminates the

auditorium.

She's cut the restraints off her arms with a small concealed knife. Keeping

up the pretense of being bound to her chair, she passes the knife to a girl in

the Student Council, who then hands it off to the next student in line.

Rose can move at any time, but she's fully aware that acting now would

be a waste.

Her enemies may be few, but they're all too powerful to neglect. Plus,

they're terribly efficient. Of the group, a man known as Rex and his superior

officer, Sir Gaunt, are immensely stronger than the rest. The professors who

underestimated and opposed them have been helplessly slain. Even if the

hostages could use magic, their chances of winning would be questionable.

Luckily, Rex hasn't been back in a while. She hopes the Knight Order has

slaughtered him outside…but she knows a fierce warrior can't be taken down

so easily. Rose's honest thought is that she needs to improve the situation

somehow before he returns.

While Sir Gaunt spends most of his time in the waiting room, he

occasionally shows up in the auditorium to search for Rex, at whom he curses

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under his breath for his prolonged absence. Judging by his appearance and

dense magic, Rose believes he can surpass an expert fighter. He might even

be able to topple Iris Midgar…not that she wants to believe it. If that's true,

Rose's chances of defeating him—even if she regains her magic—are

remarkably low to none.

In any case, Rose knows it isn't the right moment to move yet. But the

truth of the situation is she has no time.

As the minutes elapse, Rose can feel magic slipping out of her body. She

doesn't know the reason, but her best guess is that it's related to the

phenomenon that blocks it. Even though Rose is far from feeling weak, the

students with less magic are starting to feel sick. In a few more hours, some

of them may even suffer from magic deficiency, which means they'll lose the

chance to fight back forever.

There's a figure who always suppressed panic and unease as it rose in his

chest.

Every time Rose remembers the heroic stance of the boy who sacrificed

himself to save her, a burning sensation rises up in her body. She isn't going

to let his wishes be forgotten. As she repeats this promise to herself, she waits

for her time to come.

And just then, the moment arrives, unexpectedly.

The auditorium is suddenly lit up by a radiant white light.

Rose doesn't know what it is, but she reacts before she can think.

She couldn't care less where it came from. Her instincts are telling her this

is her final chance.

While everyone is captivated by the blinding light, Rose squints as she

rushes toward one of her captors. The moment she wraps her hands around

his unguarded neck, Rose has a realization.

I can use magic! She chops his head off with her hand.

Rose doesn't know why she can use magic again, but it doesn't matter.

She snatches the sword from the waist of the headless man.

Raising it, she howls. "We've got our magic back! Everyone, rise! This is

our time to fight back!"

The auditorium erupts with movement.

The girl in the Student Council is set in motion, slicing through the

restraints binding the students, and the liberated ones begin scrambling. The

air pulses with the collective, feverish excitement of the students.

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Rose knocks a man off his feet by releasing a surge of magic on him.

All for victory. That's what is on her mind.

At that moment, Rose realizes she is the symbol of their insurrection.

If she keeps fighting, they'll fight, too. She'll keep showing them an

indisputable victory. Rose swings her sword at full power without focusing

on how she's distributing magic in her body.

"Pursue the Student Council president!!"

"Swipe her sword!!"

She's the subject of attention and hate and applause as she slaughters

multitudes of enemies and frees masses of students, all while continuing to

fight.

Everyone admires and aspires to her valiancy.

But her combat style is also reckless, and she doesn't give her internal

regulation of magic a second thought. Her power may be immense, but it's

leaving her body, and she's rapidly approaching her limit. She can feel it as

she calmly keeps an eye on her cap. Her magic is slipping away, causing her

swordplay to dull as her body grows heavy.

One-hit kills become two hits, then three.

I'm almost done… Just a few more…, she thinks. But Rose can feel them

closing in on her.

Just need to kill one more. She realizes something as she approaches her

breaking point.

The zeal of the students has consumed the auditorium. Even if Rose is

defeated, they won't stop fighting.

The boy has passed his wish on to Rose, who's distributed it to everyone.

As countless lives are lost in battle, someone continues carrying his torch.

It hasn't been a waste.

His death—and the one that awaits her—haven't been for naught.

Rose from the kingdom of the arts has her reasons for studying the sword.

She's never told anyone about them; it's nothing but a foolish dream she had

as a child. And yet, it's a dream she chases earnestly. She hopes that she's

come even slightly closer to actualizing it.

As those thoughts run through her mind, she takes her final swing.

It's nearly devoid of magic—not to mention weak and sluggish.

But she beheads the enemy with the most beautiful strike of her life.

It's the best sensation she's ever experienced. At that moment, she feels as

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if she's finally acquired a precious awareness of something.

And yet…it pains her to know she's achieved this when the end is nigh.

Rose watches swords rain down on her from all sides, wishing she could live

for just one more day.

And then it comes true.

An ebony whirlwind blasts through the enemies, causing them to spew

gallons of blood and wiping them out in a flash.

Silence settles on the area, as if all time stands still.

In the eye of the hurricane stands a man wearing an ebony coat.

"Astounding. You're one who possesses beautiful swordplay…," he says

to Rose in a voice that seems to echo from the depths of the earth.

He appears to be praising the way she handled her sword. His compliment

affects her more than words can express.

"My name is Shadow."

The man who calls himself Shadow…is nothing short of frightening.

"I-I'm Rose. Rose Oriana…" Her voice trembles. She's too startled to rise

to her feet.

His swordsmanship is far superior to hers. His abilities are the result of

assiduous training, of eliminating excess, of honing, of integrating varied

techniques. Rose feels as if time has ground down to a halt. She's never seen

swordsmanship as flawless as this.

"Come to me… My loyal servants…"

Shadow releases magic with a blue-violet hue into the sky. As Rose

bathes in that light, a group clad entirely in black drops into the auditorium.

Oh no, is this their backup…? Rose wonders.

But her fears are unfounded.

The team gracefully touches down and jumps into action.

This can't be an internal feud… But they also don't seem like they're

from the Knight Order. Upon further inspection, she realizes the troop is

comprised entirely of women. And on top of that…

"They're so strong…"

Every one of them is tough—a force of nature.

They chop down the captors in the blink of an eye.

The women possess the same sword techniques as Shadow. These fearless

warriors are under his command.

"Master Shadow, I'm glad you're safe."

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"Ah, Nu."

A woman clad in black approaches Shadow with a bow. "Their leader has

torched the campus, fleeing the area."

"How pathetic… Leave him to me."

"Understood."

"Does he think he can escape…?" Shadow lets out a low chuckle.

Flinging his coat open, he slices open the auditorium doors with a single

stroke of his sword. As an added bonus, the opponents in his vicinity become

mounds of unmoving flesh.

He's slightly imitating Rose's swordsmanship, waving his weapon as if to

flaunt it before calmly disappearing into the night.

Each of his movements sets a perfect example for Rose.

"Are you all right?" The girl known as Nu approaches her.

"Yes…"

"Those were some fantastic techniques," Nu comments, readying her

ebony katana and leaping into the fight.

Her swordplay is extraordinary. She mows down the men in jet-black,

leaving them facedown on the floor.

Rose can feel her common sense—no, her common sense as a dark knight

—shattering into pieces. The swordsmanship exhibited by these warriors

doesn't fit into any preexisting molds.

It's an entirely new art of its own.

Where did this powerful group and methodology come from? Rose is

stunned she's never known of them until now.

"Fire! There's fire coming this way!"

The voice pulls Rose back to reality. She can see the flames rising in the

back of the auditorium.

"Escape if you're near the exit!" Rose shouts, directing the students.

Thanks to the all-women group, they can avoid needless sacrifices.

The end of the battle is near.

Rose escorts the wounded to the exit.

"The Knight Order is coming!!"

Everyone is relieved by that message. Rose releases the tension in her

body and almost collapses but manages to pull herself together in a fluster.

The students are being evacuated from the auditorium one by one. The

fire intensifies, and the men in black are exterminated.

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Before Rose realizes it, the black-clad gang of women are gone.

They skillfully disappeared undetected, leaving no traces behind, as if

they were never there at all.

Rose helps each student out of the auditorium until none remain and looks

back at the overpowering flames that consume the structure.

"Who are they…?"

A distant blaze casts a faint glow over the assistant principal's office in the

night.

A silhouette moves in the dark room, yanking several books off the

shelves and letting them burn on the floor.

The books are consumed by the small fire that fiercely illuminates the

room.

The figure is that of a scrawny man in jet-black.

"What're you doing dressed like that, Assistant Principal Lutheran…?"

The black shadow trembles. He should be the only one here, but a young

boy managed to enter before he noticed.

The boy sits cross-legged on the sofa, reading a book. He's averagelooking with black hair—a dime a dozen. But he doesn't even glance at the

flames that spread from the shadow. His gaze is focused instead on a thick

book. The sound of turning pages echoes throughout the room.

"How perceptive of you," notes the man, removing his mask to reveal a

middle-aged face.

It is indeed Assistant Principal Lutheran, sporting gray streaks in his

slicked-back hair.

Lutheran tosses his mask into the fire. Then he throws off his black

clothes and incinerates them. The light intensifies.

"For my reference, I suppose you'll let me ask how you figured it out, Cid

Kagenou."

Lutheran takes a seat across from the boy.

"I knew it the moment I saw you."

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Cid glances up at Lutheran for a second before returning to his book.

"You knew just by looking at me, huh? Maybe it's the way I walk or my

physique… Either way, you have a keen eye."

Lutheran glances at Cid, who's focused on his book.

Their two shadows quiver under the light of the flames.

"May I also ask you something for my reference?" Cid asks while staring

at his book.

Lutheran silently urges him to proceed.

"Why did you do it? You don't seem the type who enjoys this kind of

thing."

"Why? Well, it started long ago," mutters Lutheran, crossing his arms. "I

was at the height of my career. Before you were even born."

"I've heard you won the Bushin Festival."

"Yes, but that's nowhere near my proudest moment. The height of my

career was greater than that. You wouldn't understand if I told you."

Lutheran grins. He doesn't seem to be speaking facetiously but appears

somewhat tired instead.

"Soon after I peaked, I fell terribly ill and was forced to retire. After years

of struggle, all my honor instantly evaporated. As I was searching for a way

to cure my illness, I found potential in an artifact researcher named Lukreia."

"I'm sorry. Is this story gonna take long?"

"A bit. Lukreia was Sherry's mother, an unfortunate woman hated by

those in her field for being too smart for her own good. As a researcher, she

possessed knowledge that was unmatched, and I found her beneficial to me. I

supported her work and gathered artifacts for her, and she focused on her

research, which I later used. She wasn't interested in fame or fortune, so we

got along just fine. And then I stumbled upon the Eye of Avarice. It was the

artifact for which I'd been searching. But you see, Lukreia…that stupid

woman claimed it was unsafe, and she was about to request the nation store it

for her. Which is why I killed her. After I cut her from her extremities

inward, I impaled her heart and twisted my blade."

Cid's book remains open as he closes his eyes and listens to Lutheran's

story.

"I acquired the Eye, but the research was incomplete. That's when I

conveniently met another researcher—Sherry, Lukreia's daughter. She was

naive and unknowing, catering to my every whim. She never knew I was the

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enemy, that sweet, stupid child. Thanks to mother and daughter, the Eye is

now complete. All I had to do was set the stage to gather magic and prepare

the perfect camouflage. Today…will be my greatest day, when all my dreams

will come true."

Lutheran spitefully chortles to himself. "How's that for reference?"

In response, Cid cracks open his eyes. "I think I understood most of it.

But…there's one thing I don't get."

"Try me."

"You said you killed Lukreia and used her daughter. Is that really true?"

Cid shifts his eyes off the book and fixes his gaze on Lutheran.

"Of course it is. Does that anger you, Cid?"

"You'll never know… I can clearly separate what's important to me and

what's not, you know." Cid slightly lowers his eyes.

"May I ask why?"

"I do it to stay focused. I have this one dream I always wanted to achieve,

and it used to seem unattainable. Which is why I kept cutting things out of

my life."

"Oh?"

"We all go through life amassing things we cherish. We acquire friends

and lovers and jobs…and it keeps going from there. But on the other hand, I

cut things out of my life. Deciding what I don't need. I've thrown so much

away. At the end of the day, all that's left are the things I couldn't live

without. That's all I live for, and I don't really care what happens otherwise."

Cid snaps the book closed. He rises to his feet and tosses it into the fire.

"You're telling me the fates of the foolish mother and daughter don't

matter to you."

"No. I said I don't really care, but that doesn't mean I don't care at all.

Right now, I feel slightly…disturbed." Cid brandishes the sword at his waist.

"I think it's about time we start. Someone might barge in if we take too

long."

"Yes. Sadly, we must part."

Two naked blades glisten in the flames, and the battle ends instantly.

Lutheran's sword pierces Cid's chest, which gushes with blood.

Cid crashes through the door, thrown into the blazing hallway. In a flash,

his body is concealed by the crimson flames that engulf him.

"Farewell, young lad."

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Lutheran withdraws his sword. The fire in the hallway has entered the

room, becoming more intense, and he turns on his heels, about to leave the

office.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Nnr…!"

As if bouncing off the depths of an abyss, a deep voice resounds behind

Lutheran. When he looks back, he finds a man in ebony wearing a magician's

mask, a hood, and an ebony coat burning bright red. The newcomer pays no

attention to the flames as he unveils his sword.

"Curse you…!" Lutheran readies his weapon.

"My name is Shadow. I lurk in the darkness and hunt down shadows…"

"So you're the one I've heard about…" Lutheran holds his naked sword

steady.

Loosely gripping the hilt of his katana, Shadow confronts him.

The pair lock eyes for a moment. Lutheran is the first to look away.

"I see you're quite strong."

"Hmm…"

"I've also lived with my sword. I can understand almost everything once I

confront my opponent…even the fact that I'm at a disadvantage right now.

Sorry, but I must fight with all my might."

Lutheran retrieves a red pill from his breast pocket and swallows it before

producing the Eye of Avarice and its command device.

"The Eye's true worth becomes apparent when the items are combined.

Like this."

The two artifacts clank as they're joined, emitting a radiant light that

forms into a helix of shining letters from an ancient alphabet. Lutheran laughs

as he holds the artifacts to his chest.

"Here and now, I'll be reborn."

It sinks into his chest and clothes and skin, as if submerged into water.

"AAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaah!!" Lutheran roars as he claws at his chest.

The glowing ancient letters gather around him, engraving themselves into

his body. A blinding luminescence dyes the room white.

Then the light dims, and Lutheran is found kneeling in white smoke.

He rises to his feet at a leisurely pace. When he looks forward, a series of

small, glowing letters has been etched into his face like a tattoo.

"Fantastic… Incredible… My powers are returning, and my disease will

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be cured!"

Lutheran stands in the middle of a torpedo of flames that undulate under

the force of his powerful magic. The glowing letters aren't just engraved in

his face but also his hands and neck.

"You can never fathom my frenzied strength! This magic has far

surpassed all human limitations!" Lutheran sneers.

"Let's try it out on you."

And then he vanishes.

The next moment, Lutheran takes a big swing at Shadow from behind.

There's a high-pitched echo, and the air between them ripples from impact.

"Oh, impressive parry."

Upon inspection, Shadow has blocked the attack with his ebony blade as

he continues facing forward. Lutheran uses all his might to grind against it,

but his opponent's weapon won't budge.

"I underestimated you. But how's this?"

Lutheran disappears again.

This time, there are shrill noises in succession.

One, two, three.

Every time, Shadow's blade adjusts slightly, his movement as minimal as

possible.

On the fourth, Lutheran appears before him.

"I didn't think you would block that one. I acknowledge your strength."

He stares at Shadow and grins calmly.

"To properly respect it, I'll now unveil my true power." Lutheran shifts

his stance.

He focuses a devastating amount of magic on the sword raised above his

head.

"In the afterlife, you can pride yourself on making me unleash my might."

That single blow comes at Shadow with the power and speed to crush him

into smithereens.

But the ebony blade parries it with ease.

"What?!"

A burst of sparks flies between the black blade and the sword of light.

"You dare block that, too?!"

"At your level…I'd hope so."

The two glare at each other from a dangerously close distance.

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"Ksh… I've only just begun!"

Lutheran's sword slashes rapidly, leaving behind a beautiful trajectory of

white afterimages in the air.

"RAAAAaaaah!!"

As Lutheran roars, the ebony blade repels all his attacks.

"AAAAAaauugh!!"

The white strikes slam into the ebony blade, the two crashing loudly

together as if composing a song. It adds another layer to the burning night.

But that's about to end.

With one swipe of the ebony blade, Lutheran is flung backward, crashing

into the desks and tumbling to the floor.

"Gak… Impossible…!"

Lutheran clutches his stinging body as he gets to his feet. His wounds will

heal quickly, but it looks as if the ancient text is growing dim.

"I didn't think this would be a struggle. Heh, I'm impressed. But no

matter how strong you are, I'll end all of you."

"What do you mean…?"

"Well, I've arranged for the incidents to look like they're the work of the

Shadow Garden. From the evidence to the testimonies—everything has been

prepared. Regardless of your strength in battle, you'll only suffer in the end."

Lutheran chortles, screwing up his face before observing Shadow's

response.

But Shadow is laughing. A dreadfully deep guffaw spills out of him.

"What's so funny?"

"It's amusing how you think something this insignificant could end us."

Lutheran stops smiling. "You're just afraid to admit defeat."

Shadow shakes his head as if to say, You don't know a thing.

"From the beginning, we've walked the path of neither justice nor evil.

We walk our own path."

Shadow holds out his burning ebony coat.

"You talk big. Accuse us for the sins of the world. We'll accept them as

our own, but nothing will change. We'll still do what we're meant to do."

"You say you don't fear opposing the world? Mighty arrogant of you,

Shadow!"

"Then crush it out of me."

Lutheran lunges, his bare sword swinging down on Shadow from

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overhead.

But Shadow evades the attack, right before his head is split in two.

"What?!"

There's a spray of fresh blood.

The ebony blade has been thrust into Lutheran's right wrist, and he

immediately switches his sword in his left hand and starts retreating.

"Impossible!"

This time, the black sword slices through his left wrist. While Lutheran

falls back, Shadow's katana plunges toward him.

"Guh…gah…!"

Lutheran is soiled with his own blood as he fails to counter the swift

slashes that his eyes can't even perceive. His wrists, feet, upper arms, and

thighs are stabbed hundreds of times.

The next series of attacks concentrate on his core.

"Cut from your extremities inward…"

Shadow's deep voice echoes between each stab.

"…And twist my blade in your heart, I believe?" he confirms, plunging

his blade into Lutheran's chest at the same time.

"Wha—…?!!"

Even as blood gushes into his mouth, Lutheran grabs the weapon wedged

in his heart and resists. His eyes meet the boy's gaze from behind his mask.

"It can't be. You're Ci—…!"

The moment he's about to finish his sentence, the blade twists.

"Ga…agh…aghh…!"

When it's yanked out, a river of blood pumps from his chest. The light in

Lutheran's eyes and the ancient text begin to fade. All that remains is the

corpse of a gaunt, middle-aged man.

And then there's the quiet pattering of footsteps.

"Foster Father…?"

Head to toe in splattered blood, Shadow whips around to see…a girl with

peach hair.

"Foster Fatherrrr!!" She sprints past Shadow and cradles the corpse.

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"No… How…? Why…?!!"

She clings to the gaunt body and weeps. Her foster father moves no more.

Shadow watches her tears fall and wet the corpse's face before turning away.

"It's better you don't know…"

And then he disappears into the madder-red flames, leaving her cries

behind him.

She hears that the boy with a major back injury is being protected at school.

When the news reaches Rose, she can't help but hurry to the first aid tent

at the school that burns in the darkness of the night.

Students and instructors with hands to spare assist with a bucket brigade.

The Knight Order makes moves to treat the injured and track down the

Shadow Garden.

And Rose finally arrives at the tent after maneuvering through the

flustered crowd.

The boy in treatment is a first-year dark knight with black hair, and he has

the same features as the one for whom she's searching.

But he should've died back there—though it wasn't like she checked his

vital signs. She hadn't had the time or composure for that.

Which means maybe—just maybe—he could be alive. He could be the

one inside that tent.

Rose can't abandon that faint glimmer of hope.

Her mind negates the prospect while her heart hopes it's true. Rose

notices how weak this is making her.

Inside the tent reeks of blood and alcohol. The first aid team are in a rush,

busily attending to patients. Rose makes her way through the tent, checking

each face—until she finds the boy with black hair.

He's lying facedown on a bed, being treated for his back wound.

The doctor is talking to him.

He's conscious…maybe.

"U-ummm… Are you Cid Kagenou?" Rose sounds as if she wants to ask

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a favor.

"Yes…?" He twists around to look at her. It's the face of that same heroic

boy.

"I'm glad…so glad…"

"Wait…huh?!"

At some point, she's embraced Cid, clinging to him tightly as his head

squirms against her breast. Rose vows to never lose him again.

Something hot rises to her chest.

"Um… We're in the middle of treatment…"

"Oh! Right."

The timid voice of the doctor snaps Rose out of her daze, and she releases

Cid.

"And how are his wounds?"

"The gash on his back is deep. It's a miracle it didn't damage his nerves

or internal organs. It's not fatal."

"Oh my gosh! Really?!"

"Yes, really."

"Wow! That's great!" Her entire body quivers with joy.

"Um, yeah, so I think I unconsciously dodged a fatal attack. No, I was

passed out, so I don't really know, but that's how I survived." Cid sounds

defensive for some unfathomable reason.

"You must have acted on reflex, thanks to your persistent training.

Amazing."

"Um, not exactly."

Rose kneels before him and looks into his eyes. "No, that's it. Your

undying efforts and passion gave life to this miracle."

She caresses Cid's cheek as she gazes at him, standing close enough for

him to almost feel her breath.

"Um…"

"You don't have to say anything. I absolutely accept your feelings." Her

eyes well up with tears as she peers at him, and her cheeks turn as red as a

rose.

"That's fine if you're convinced I miraculously survived. But don't go

saying it was some strange anomaly afterward."

"All right. For now, please get some rest."

"Negotiation complete. Good night."

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Rose fondly watches him close his eyes and fall asleep. Her heart has

never raced so fast in her life.

Bu-dump, bu-dump, it throbs.

Up until this point, she's only heard tell of this feeling, but now she's

finally experiencing it firsthand.

"Since you've saved my life…I shall give my heart to you…"

She strokes Cid's hair and stays by his side until dawn.

"Don't you think they did a good job?" asks an alarmingly attractive blond

elf, presenting a sheet of paper.

In an ebony dress that makes her look like darkness itself, she's in the

Mitsugoshi building late at night.

Gamma takes the paper from the beauty and mumbles, "Lady Alpha…

Um, I don't know what to say."

"I'm sorry. It's a tough question to answer."

Alpha snickers to herself. The paper she handed over is a wanted poster

containing a sketch of Shadow in his ebony coat.

"SHADOW: ENEMY OF THE ROYAL KINGDOM. WANTED FOR MASS MURDER,

ARSON, THEFT, KIDNAPPING… What a naughty man."

"You're also on the wanted poster for the Shadow Garden, Lady Alpha.

Though it only mentions your name."

"Where?"

Gamma takes out another paper for Alpha to read.

"The Shadow Garden… What a horrible organization."

The glow of the fireplace lights up her profile, and her supernatural beauty

radiates from the darkness.

"But it's a shame. I can't believe we rushed back here to find it almost

over."

Alpha tosses the wanted poster into the fire, muttering to herself as she

watches the flames lap it up and black char creep onto the edges of the paper.

"Accuse us for the sins of the world. We'll accept them as our own, but

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nothing will change. We'll still do what we're meant to do. How beautiful…"

Alpha watches the poster turn to ash.

"Deep down, I used to think I stood on the side of justice. But he wasn't

like that."

The light and shadows across her alluring face shift with the swaying

flames. At times, she has the looks of a goddess, and at others, a devil. The

fire capriciously switches between the two.

"He's prepared, and we must follow suit."

Alpha turns back to Gamma, who nervously gulps upon seeing her face.

"Gather every available member of the Seven Shadows."

"I will. Right away." Gamma bows her head. Cold sweat trails down her

neck and vanishes between her breasts.

After a chilly evening wind blows by her, Gamma lifts her head. There's

no one there.

All that's left is the flames in the fireplace flickering violently.

"Excuse me…!"

Hearing someone call out to him in front of the half-charred campus, the

ordinary boy with black hair turns.

"Oh, sorry about that. I was totally spacing out. What's up?"

"I heard I might be able to meet you if I waited here. There's something I

want to talk to you about…," admits a girl with peach hair, gazing at him.

"Sure. It'll be a while before the authorities question me anyway. Plus,

classes are gonna be canceled for a while."

"Um…thank you for the other day." She lightly bows her head. "You

really saved me, Cid."

"It was nothing."

"I couldn't have done it without you."

"It's all good. Don't worry about it."

"Also, there's something else I have to tell you. Um, I've decided to study

abroad."

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"Oh, that explains all that luggage."

There are heaps upon heaps of bags around her.

"Yes. I'll be taking a carriage to Laugus."

"So you're going to the college town… Wow, that's great."

"There's something I must do. I have to go because I can't do it with the

knowledge I have now."

"All right. I wish you the best."

"And because…there's no longer a reason for me to be here." She

mournfully turns back to the school. "I wish we could've talked more,

Cid…"

"Me too. But we'll meet again someday."

"Yeah, I look forward to it." She grins and walks past him.

"Oh, wait a sec."

"Yes?" She halts at the sound of his voice and turns.

"Can I ask what it is you have to do?"

The girl smiles uneasily. "It's a secret."

"I see."

"But when it's all over…will you listen to my story?"

"…Sure."

The pair grin before walking away from each other.

As they part, the billowing clouds overhead block the summer sun, and

the lukewarm breeze carries the scent of rain.

"I promise to…"

And the wind carries her whisper to his ears.

He seems to have heard the entire sentiment—a string of words

unintended for his ears. He turns to look back at her as she gets smaller and

smaller, farther and farther away from him.

Small raindrops drip down from the sky, moistening her light-pink hair,

and he continues walking as if nothing happened.

And neither turns back again.