The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of autumn leaves and distant woodsmoke.
The academy grounds were alive with the chatter of students preparing for their morning lessons, their breath fogging in the cool air as they hurried across the courtyard.
Arashi, however, had one clear goal for the day.
To get through his classes while putting in the bare minimum effort possible—a deliberate strategy rather than mere laziness.
It wasn't that he was incapable—he just found certain lessons... unnecessary.
And more importantly, he was preoccupied with more pressing concerns.
'I've gathered enough attention,' he thought, adjusting his deliberately rumpled uniform. 'Now it's time to confuse the situation a little.'
Let them wonder if yesterday's rumors were mere exaggeration. Let them question what they thought they knew.
And if he happened to annoy a few teachers along the way, well, that was just a bonus.
The alchemy laboratory smelled of herbs, minerals, and the lingering scent of previous failed experiments.
Sunlight streamed through high windows, illuminating dancing dust motes and the focused faces of students.
Professor Alric, a strict old alchemist with silvered hair and a permanent scowl etched into his weathered face, paced through the class.
His practiced eye inspected each student's brewing progress, occasionally offering grudging approval or scathing criticism.
"Remember," he called out, voice sharp as breaking glass, "the proportion of moonflower to dragonroot must be exact, or the consequences could be... unfortunate."
Arashi, meanwhile, casually poked at his cauldron with a wooden spoon, completely ignoring the professor's warnings. His movements were deliberately careless, yet his eyes missed nothing.
His potion—a dull green sludge instead of the clear azure liquid described in their textbooks—bubbled ominously.
Occasionally, it made a sound that resembled a quiet belch.
Selene, seated beside him, frowned as she glanced over.
Her own potion glowed the perfect shade of blue. "You were supposed to follow the formula precisely," she whispered, exasperation clear in her voice. "What did you do to yours?"
Arashi shrugged, the picture of nonchalance. "I followed it. Mostly."
Selene sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Then why does it look like it's alive?"
Arashi glanced down at the potion with renewed interest.
Sure enough, it moved slightly. Not just bubbling, but... pulsating. Almost breathing.
'Huh. Fascinating.'
Professor Alric's voice rang out through the laboratory. "Alright, time to test your potions! Remember—this stabilizing elixir should maintain a constant temperature when exposed to extreme heat or cold."
The students carefully bottled their mixtures, faces tense with concentration.
Arashi?
He simply stared at his bubbling abomination, which had now developed what appeared to be a single blinking eye on its surface.
Selene narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You're not actually planning to turn that in, are you? It might eat through the bottle."
"Of course not," Arashi said solemnly. "That would be irresponsible."
Selene exhaled in relief, her shoulders relaxing.
Then Arashi simply pushed the cauldron to the side—its contents still pulsating rhythmically—and handed the professor an empty bottle.
Professor Alric blinked rapidly, looking from the bottle to Arashi's impassive face. "...Where's your potion, Kurobane?"
Arashi sighed dramatically, as if burdened by a great tragedy. "It escaped."
Silence fell over the laboratory. Several students turned to stare.
Selene buried her face in her hands, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like a prayer.
Alric massaged his temples, the vein there visibly throbbing. "You expect me to believe your potion... escaped?"
Arashi pointed to his cauldron, where the green sludge was now attempting to climb over the rim. "It appears to have developed ambition."
The professor took a deep breath, visibly counting to ten. "You do realize this will result in a failing grade? Again?"
Arashi shrugged, the very picture of indifference. "Oh no. Anyway."
Alric's face turned an interesting shade of purple as he clutched the empty bottle.
For a moment, it looked like he wanted to throw the entire cauldron at Arashi's head.
Instead, he simply marked something in his ledger with enough force to nearly tear the page.
Behind him, Arashi's potion made a sound suspiciously like a giggle.
The training field stretched wide under the midday sun, the packed earth bearing the scars of countless practice duels.
Wooden training dummies stood in neat rows, their surface dented and scarred from years of student attacks.
Instructor Reynard stalked before the assembled students, his scarred face set in its usual stern expression.
A former knight of considerable renown, he was a firm believer in discipline, skill, and the value of hard work.
Which meant, naturally, that he hated Arashi's attitude with the burning passion of a thousand suns.
"Today," Reynard announced, his booming voice carrying across the field, "we will be focusing on precision and power! Essential skills for any who wish to survive real combat!"
Students straightened, faces serious as they gripped their practice weapons.
"Each of you will take turns striking this training dummy with your strongest attack!" He slapped the central dummy for emphasis. "I want to see everything you've learned put into practice!"
One by one, students stepped forward, determined to impress.
Blades flashed in the sunlight. Magic crackled and hissed.
The dummy rocked under the force of committed strikes.
Reynard offered gruff corrections and occasional nods of approval.
Then came Arashi's turn.
A hush fell over the training field as he stepped forward, all eyes watching with renewed interest after yesterday's rumors.
He raised his wooden sword with proper form—
And lightly tapped the dummy.
The tap was so gentle it barely disturbed the dust on the dummy's surface.
Silence descended, heavy and incredulous.
Reynard's eye twitched violently. "What," he asked with dangerous softness, "was that?"
Arashi stared at the dummy as if puzzled by the question. "I hit it."
"That wasn't a hit, Kurobane," Reynard growled, advancing on him. "That was an insult. To me, to your fellow students, and to the very concept of combat training."
Arashi tilted his head, expression innocent. "Then I apologize. To the dummy."
A few students snickered, quickly silenced by Reynard's glare.
The instructor's jaw clenched so tight it was a wonder his teeth didn't crack. "Hit it properly, or you fail today's lesson. And I'll make sure you regret it."
Arashi sighed deeply, as if terribly put-upon. "Fine."
The field grew tense with anticipation. Perhaps now they would see what yesterday's rumors were about.
He raised his sword again, this time with a slight adjustment to his stance.
Paused, seemingly focusing his energy.
Then carefully, with exquisite precision, poked the dummy in exactly the same spot as before.
Reynard exhaled sharply through his nose. His hand twitched toward his own sword. "Kurobane—"
Arashi held up a hand, expression suddenly serious. "Wait. Let me explain."
The unexpected shift in demeanor caught everyone's attention.
Students leaned in, curious despite themselves.
Arashi looked at the instructor with grave intensity, his voice taking on an almost philosophical tone.
"If I ever fight someone stronger than me, my best tactic isn't to hit them harder." He gestured at the dummy with his wooden sword.
"It's to make them underestimate me. To let them believe I'm no threat... until it's too late."
Whispers rippled through the assembled students. Some nodded thoughtfully, reconsidering their initial judgment.
Even a few of the more serious warriors looked contemplative.
Even Reynard hesitated, caught off-guard by the unexpected wisdom.
Then Arashi added, with a lazy stretch and a yawn, "Also, I just don't feel like trying today. The weather's too nice for exertion."
Reynard's moment of consideration shattered like glass.
"You're doing remedial training tonight," he snarled. "Two hours after dinner. And it will be unpleasant."
Arashi sighed dramatically, shoulders slumping.
'Ah. A predictable outcome.'
As he stepped back into line, he noticed Elias watching from the edge of the training field, eyes narrowed in thought.
Interesting. Very interesting.
By the End of the Day it was A Job Well Done
By the time evening arrived, shadows stretching long across the academy grounds, Arashi had successfully:
Failed potion class in spectacular fashion.
Frustrated his combat instructor to the point of near apoplexy.
Made several students start questioning whether he was a misunderstood genius or just a problematic troublemaker.
And most importantly—confused anyone watching him, including Elias.
All in all, a productive day.
As he strolled back to his dorm, hands in pockets and twilight gathering around him, he couldn't help but smirk.
This academy was full of people who took everything far too seriously. People who saw the world in rigid structures of power and achievement.
And he?
He was here to enjoy the chaos. To use their expectations against them.
And to find what he was truly looking for, hidden somewhere within these hallowed walls.
The mysterious note from last night crinkled in his pocket, a reminder that he wasn't the only player in this game.
Someone else was watching. Someone who knew more than they should.
His smirk faded as he entered his room, closing the door firmly behind him.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new eyes watching his every move.
He would need to be careful.
But careful had never been his style.