[Ritsuka Fujimaru's POV]
Guilds are the backbone of this world.
They are more than just organizations—they are fortresses of humanity, shields against the monsters lurking in the shadows, and the line between order and chaos.
Every cadet here dreams of joining one. To be chosen, to wear a guild's emblem, to stand at the pinnacle where only the strong belong. The guilds are not just factions; they are the lifeblood of society itself.
And I will build one of my own.
Not just any guild, but one that will redefine strength, change the course of this world's fate. I need people. Talented people.
My mind starts sorting through potential candidates. Some are bound to their fates, already chosen. Others… are still free.
Kim Hajin. Chae Nayun.
Two names stand out.
But Chae Nayun—she's burdened with her past, haunted by a truth she cannot yet face and gets turmatized in whole novel, maybe I guess. I know where her story leads, and right now, she's not the person I need.
Which leaves Kim Hajin.
A man who refuses to believe in the world he stands upon In FIRST Arc.
His mind is shackled, his heart distant. He sees everyone here as NPCs, characters in a story he believes is nothing more than words written on a page.
I can't use him yet. Not until he accepts reality.
Not until he truly understands that this world breathes, suffers, loves, and lives.
I've learned something over time as novel reader—even a single conversation can change fate.
One small interaction, one careless sentence, and the delicate threads of destiny can unravel into something unrecognizable.
It's terrifying.
Even if you know the story, even if you have foresight, you can't predict everything. Once the changes start, there's no going back.
It's like a rollercoaster ride.
The moment you realize you're not in control, you have two choices—panic and fall, or embrace the chaos and ride it to the end.
Hajin doesn't understand this yet.
To him, the world is still fiction.
But fiction isn't supposed to make you feel. It isn't supposed to hurt.
How can he look into someone's eyes and see their pain, yet still think they're just words on a page? How can he watch them fight, bleed, and struggle, yet still believe it's all a fleeting dream?
Everyone here thinks. Feels. Loves. Hates.
Every loss is real. Every joy is real. Every moment they live, every nightmare they endure—it's all real.
So, how could I ever tell them they're just characters?
It's that the moment you feel pain, the moment you cry, the moment you love… that's when you are real.
No matter what Hajin believes, one day, he will see it.
He will understand.
And when that moment comes—when he's standing in the depths of Arc 1's hard-mode version, where everything is unforgiving, cruel, and painfully real—I will be there.
Only then will I speak to him.
Only then will I see if he is worthy.
And then came the knock.
A sharp, casual rap against the wooden door, breaking through the haze of my thoughts. I blinked, shaking off the weight of contemplation, and moved to open it.
Standing there, as natural as if they belonged to the very air itself, were Yuji Itadori and Karma Akabane.
Yuji, with his ever-present warmth, his posture relaxed but his eyes bright with excitement. Karma, smirking like he knew something I didn't, that telltale gleam of mischief in his gaze.
Karma Akabane says "Hey dude, we're heading to the training room. You coming?"
Yuji Itadori grinning "Yeah, man. Tomorrow's the first day of classes, so you know you gotta join us. Can't slack off on day one, right?"
I exhaled through my nose, a small smirk forming despite myself.
"Alright, alright. Give me a second."
I grabbed my training gear, slipping into my familiar attire, and secured my door behind me.
As we walked down the hall, the boys' dormitory was alive with movement—cadets exploring, making friends, getting familiar with the place that would shape their futures. A quiet hum of energy filled the air, the excitement of new beginnings.
Then—suddenly—I stopped in my tracks.
I forgot my gauntlets.
"Damn, I forgot my gauntlets.. You guys go ahead, I'll catch up."
Yuji says "Alright, don't take too long!"
Karma grinning "Don't get lost, newbie."
I waved them off as they continued down the hallway, my steps turning back toward my room.
But when I arrived, what I saw waiting for me at my door made my breath hitch.
A small figure, bathed in the soft glow of the hallway lights, standing with a quiet patience that felt almost unnatural.
Her golden hair, like spun sunlight, framed her delicate features. Her presence was familiar, yet unexpected.
She turned to face me.
Artoria.
I blinked in surprise "Artoria? Wait—why are you…?"
And then—a memory flashed.
That smile.
The one I saw just yesterday, bright and sincere, as if it carried the warmth of the whole world.
Before I could say anything else, she bowed deeply.
Artoria says "Fujimaru-kun, please forgive me for not greeting you properly before… and for hiding the fact that I am also a cadet like you."
Her voice was soft, yet clear, carrying a sincerity that made my chest tighten.
I felt a brief, irrational panic.
This was the boys' dormitory. She wasn't supposed to be here.
But before I could address that, a sudden growl echoed through the hallway.
I froze.
She froze.
My eyes flicked down.
Her hands—pressed tightly over her stomach, her entire face flushing a deep, unmistakable red.
I bit the inside of my cheek, trying—and failing—to hold back my laughter.
I smirked "Pff—"
Artoria gasping, eyes wide "P-please, don't laugh at me, Fujimaru-kun!"
But it was too late. The moment was too perfect.
Her embarrassment, the way she tried to physically restrain her own hunger, the sheer adorableness of it all—it was like something out of a dream.
I cleared my throat, trying to regain my composure.
"Alright, alright. I won't laugh. But I have an idea—why don't we grab something to eat together? Let's go to the cafeteria."
Her eyes lit up instantly, the hesitation vanishing in a blink.
Artoria says earnestly "Okay!"
---
(Karma Akabane's POV)
Yuji and I walked together for a short while before we naturally went our separate ways.
He was heading toward the main ground, where the standard training regimen awaited him—running, push-ups, the kind of basic exercises that didn't require much thought. He had always been the type to rely on brute force and raw physicality, which, to be fair, suited him just fine. That guy was built different.
As for me? I had no interest in that kind of thing.
Instead, I made my way directly to the training room, where I could refine my own skills.
Inside, the air was cool, the dim lighting casting long shadows against the walls. The training dolls lined up in front of me were state-of-the-art, designed to replicate human movements and even counterattack if given the right settings.
I started off light, testing my speed with a few well-placed strikes, pressure points, and quick movements, making sure to disrupt their balance without giving them time to react. It wasn't about overwhelming force—it was about precision.
And, for a while, I was completely immersed in my own little world.
Then, suddenly—
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
A sound.
Faint, but sharp.
The unmistakable sound of arrows cutting through the air.
I stopped moving, letting out a slow exhale as I listened.
It wasn't coming from my room—but the one next door.
Curiosity piqued, I turned toward the closed door. Normally, I wouldn't be able to see anything. But as I stared, the door seemed to blur, turning almost translucent.
Huh.
That was… new.
But I wasn't about to question it if it meant I got to satisfy my curiosity.
Through the faint outline of the door, I saw her.
Chae Nayun.
She stood in the center of the training room, her bow raised, her expression sharp with focus. Her posture was perfect—steady shoulders, strong stance, the kind of refined skill that came from years of discipline.
There were four arrows notched into her bowstring, each one glowing faintly with magical energy. A skillful technique, but not quite at its peak. I could tell from a single glance—she hadn't fully mastered her magic yet.
Still—
Whoosh!
The arrows flew.
They left behind glowing blue trails, streaking through the air like comets. Each one found its mark, piercing through multiple targets with surgical precision. Explosions followed—small bursts of magical energy as the arrows shattered the dummies like they were nothing.
I raised an eyebrow.
'Impressive. But…'
Something felt off.
I watched her for a moment longer, analyzing her movements, her expression, the way her body moved on instinct. There was skill, that much was undeniable. But passion?
Not quite.
She was good—insanely good. But something about the way she moved didn't scream 'natural.'
Her hands were steady, but not excited.
Her eyes were sharp, but not alive.
The bow fit her like an old uniform—one that had been worn for years but never quite belonged.
'She's holding herself back.'
I leaned against the doorway, crossing my arms as I narrowed my gaze.
'This girl is an archer, sure. But that's not her real weapon, is it?'
Chae Nayun wasn't a bow-user. Not in the way she should be.
Somewhere inside her, there was a different kind of fighter. One that hadn't been unleashed yet.
I smirked to myself.
'And when that happens? She's going to be terrifying.'
Suddenly she turned her head.
The moment our eyes met, I felt it. She is not normal at all. To be able to feel my eye's on her.
She shouldn't have been able to see me.
The door was still there, solid and unmoving. And yet, her gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that was both surprising and… intriguing.
'She's got good instincts.'
I hesitated, weighing my options.
Should I say something? Mess with her a little? Or just walk away and let her keep wondering?
The second I decided to leave—
"Hey, you."
I stopped mid-step.
My hands stayed in my pockets as I slowly turned my head, locking eyes with the source of the voice.
Chae Nayun.
Her expression was a mix of suspicion and something else—something closer to confusion.
I watched her carefully. She was staring at me, but… not just staring. Studying me. Almost like she was trying to place me in a puzzle where I didn't belong.
It lasted about five seconds.
Then, she blinked hard, shook her head, and refocused.
"What the hell are you doing here? Did you come to spy on me or something?"
Her tone was sharp, but her face was a little red.
I raised an eyebrow.
She thinks too highly of herself. Way too highly.
I couldn't help it. A laugh burst out of me, loud and amused.
"Pffft—hahahaha!"
Her face twitched.
Oh. That got under her skin.
I forced myself to calm down before she decided to throw an arrow at my head.
"No, no, you're giving yourself too much credit." I waved a hand, my grin still lingering. "I was training with my daggers, passed by, and saw someone training. I got curious, that's all."
I shrugged, starting to turn.
"Anyway, I'm already leaving."
Or at least, I was about to.
Until—
"Assassins are cowards."
I stopped in my tracks.
Oh.
Ohhhh.
Now she'd done it.
The amusement drained from my face, replaced by something sharper.
I turned back to her, my head tilting slightly, my expression unreadable.
She had crossed a line.
Not because I was offended. No, no—words didn't get to me that easily.
It was because I knew exactly what she was trying to do.
Pick a fight.
And I did love a good fight.
Wait! No! My friends will not like it. If I beat a girl to death. They will get bad name.
Let's just use words for now. After all Words are sharper than blade.
And if Chae Nayun wanted to run her mouth about something she didn't understand, then I'd educate her.
I kept my hands in my pockets, tilting my head slightly at Chae Nayun's words.
She really believed that, huh? Assassin's Are cowards
I could see why.
In this world, people worshiped raw power. The bigger the explosion, the stronger the attack, the more people respected it.
But that kind of thinking? It was fucking boring.
"Hey answer my question!! why the hell do you think I chose daggers as my main weapon?"
My voice was calm, but my smile had an edge.
Not just her—a few other students were starting to look at me the same way.
Chae Nayun's eyes narrowed, like she was trying to figure me out.
"Well, you must have your reasons," she admitted, before adding, "but honestly, I can't think of many advantages to using a dagger in this world. They're short-ranged, they require ridiculous precision, and against magic users, you're practically putting yourself in the worst possible position."
She wasn't wrong.
If I thought like her, I probably wouldn't use daggers either.
But that was the thing—I didn't think like her.
I let out a short chuckle, my fingers lazily tapping against my leg.
"Oh, I know. Daggers are tricky, inefficient, and put me at a constant disadvantage. But you know," I smirked, "not all choices are made based on practical advantages in battlefield."
Chae Nayun crossed her arms. "Yeah? Then why?"
I could tell she was genuinely curious now.
I rolled my shoulders, letting my grin stretch wider.
"Because it's more fun that way."
Her expression froze.
I could practically hear the gears in her head struggling to process my answer.
"What?"
I shrugged. "Where's the excitement in playing things safe? If I wanted an easy time, I could just grab a giant sword or learn some ridiculous explosion magic like half the other idiots here."
Chae Nayun scoffed. "You're insane. We're playing a survival game here. Practical choices are what matter, don't you think? We're Cube cadets. If you came here with that mindset, you shouldn't have come in the first place."
I chuckled again, this time softer.
Ah, I'd heard that one before.
"That may be true for some," I said, tilting my head, "but I prefer to think outside the box. The choices we make reveal a lot about who we are and what we value."
Her gaze sharpened, but there was a flicker of something else in her eyes now.
Curiosity.
"So what, your choice says you value making things harder for yourself?"
"Not quite." I twirled a dagger in my fingers, letting the blade catch the light before flipping it back into my palm. "It says I value skill."
She blinked.
"Skill?"
I nodded.
"Anybody can swing a big sword or blast magic from a distance. You could give a random idiot a railgun, and they'd be a threat. But daggers?"
I let the question hang, letting my smirk do the rest.
"Daggers don't forgive mistakes. There's no overwhelming firepower to fall back on, no range to keep me safe. If I mess up, I'm done. That means I have to be faster, sharper, and smarter than the other guy. Every move counts."
I tilted my head.
"That's what makes it fun."
Chae Nayun let out a short laugh—not mocking, but exasperated.
"You... are a damn lunatic, aren't you?"
I grinned. "You're just now figuring that out?"
She rolled her eyes but hesitated for a second before saying, "The risks behind your choices are too great."
I took a step forward, just enough to close the distance a little. Just enough to make her realize I wasn't like the others here.
"Ah, but it's precisely that element of risk that attracts me," I said smoothly, meeting her gaze head-on. "Sometimes, you have to step out of your comfort zone to achieve the extraordinary."
Her fingers twitched.
That's when I knew.
I'd gotten under her skin.
This conversation hadn't been part of my plans.
I turned my back to leave, but something made me pause.
Maybe it was the way Chae Nayun's hands clenched, her nails digging into her palms.
Maybe it was the way her expression darkened, her entire posture shifting from arrogance to something more... defensive.
Maybe I just liked messing with people.
Either way, I found myself asking, "Besides, may I ask you the another question? And you, why did you choose a bow as your main weapon?"
It was an innocent enough question. But the way she stiffened for just a fraction of a second? Interesting.
Her lips parted, but she quickly recovered. "Oh, what do you mean why did I choose the bow? Of course, it's because it's my best weapon. And I had talent in it."
A lie.
A smooth one, sure. But still a lie.
I tilted my head, a lazy smirk curling on my lips.
"Hahahaha... You know, what we call 'talent' is just the part of us that others can't see. Everyone has some hidden talent. In that sense, we're all the same."
Her eyebrows twitched, but she stayed quiet, watching me.
I took a step forward, just enough to loom slightly over her. "Talented people often make the same mistake of thinking they have a talent for everything. But your hidden talent isn't archery."
Her eyes flickered. Just for a second.
Gotcha.
I kept my voice calm, almost amused. "I could've answered my previous question using this same logic. However..." I tapped my chin. "I have the impression that you're lying. In fact, I'm very, very good at telling when people are lying."
Chae Nayun's jaw tightened.
"And what would I be lying about?"
Oh, she was pissed.
I smiled wider.
"About the bow being your best weapon."
That made her eyes narrow dangerously.
I continued, unfazed. "Talent is usually an invisible trait. More often than not, it's the result of work. Other people don't see the countless hours of practice behind someone's skill. They only see the results."
Silence.
Then—her expression twisted.
Her shoulders tensed, her fists clenched, and her voice dropped into something low and sharp.
"And what the hell do you know about me to say that?"
Her tone was laced with something deeper than anger. Something incomprehensible to most people.
But I understood it.
That kind of reaction didn't come from mere annoyance. It came from something personal.
"I know nothing about you," I admitted, "but if you allow me to say, I have good eyes. I believe you would fare better with swords than with a bow."
For just a second, I saw something flicker in her eyes.
A hesitation.
A crack in her confidence.
Oh?
I could already see how her mind was working. She was about to deny it. About to lash out, say something defensive, bury the thought before it could grow.
So I cut her off.
"Of course," I added smoothly, "it's just the opinion of an utterly unimportant person. The weapon you use—only you can choose. Just as I chose my daggers."
I turned around. "Anyway, that's all I wanted to say. Goodbye."
And with that, I walked away.
I didn't wait for a response.
Didn't need to.
Because as I left, I could feel her gaze burning into my back.
Cube is interesting place, after all.
---
{Ritsuka POV}
The cafeteria was eerily quiet, the usual clatter of trays and chatter of students absent. It was the first day, after all—most cadets were either in the training hall, eager to test their skills, or in their rooms, adjusting to the weight of this new beginning.
But here, in this empty space, it felt like our own little world.
Across from me, Artoria sat with her hands gently folded around her spoon, her golden hair reflecting the soft cafeteria lights. She looked so happy—so completely at ease—while eating.
It was such a simple thing, and yet, I couldn't stop watching her.
She didn't eat with haste or desperation, but with pure joy, as if each bite was an experience to be treasured. The way her eyes lit up at the taste, the way her expression softened with delight—it was a rare kind of innocence, something that made my chest feel strangely warm.
And then, between bites, she glanced up at me.
"Are those three your friends?"
Her voice was light, curious, as she carefully scooped another spoonful.
I swallowed my food before answering.
"Yeah, they are. Their names are Yuji Itadori, Karma Akabane, and Hōtarō Oreki. They're tough guys in their own ways."
I gave a simple rundown of them—Yuji, with his unwavering kindness and strength, always looking out for others; Karma, sharp-witted and mischievous, but far more calculating than he let on; and Oreki, the quiet observer, often appearing lazy but hiding a keen intellect beneath his half-lidded eyes.
"I see."
She nodded, taking in my words before returning to her meal.
For a while, we ate in comfortable silence. But as I watched her—this small, golden-haired girl who seemed so different from anyone else—I felt something nag at me.
Why had she been waiting in front of my room?
The thought lingered, curling around my mind like an unanswered question.
And so, unable to hold it back, I asked.
"Why were you waiting in front of my room?"
She paused mid-bite, her spoon hovering just inches from her lips. Then, slowly, she set it down.
A soft, almost shy smile formed on her face.
"That's… because I just wanted to see you, Fujimaru-kun."
My breath hitched.
Her words were so simple, so direct—yet they struck something deep within me.
I felt my heartbeat stutter, my thoughts scrambling for a response.
'So… it was really me she came to see…?'
And then, before I could stop myself, the words tumbled from my mouth.
"Actually, when I saw you in class, I w-as h-a—"
I froze.
The realization hit me like a ton of bricks.
Crap! I was about to say my thoughts out loud!
My face heated up instantly, my brain screaming at me to backpedal.
"W-Wait—no! Forget what I was saying! I'm so sorry!"
But Artoria, rather than letting it go, suddenly perked up—her eyes shining with determination.
"No! I won't forget!"
Her sudden outburst sent an embarrassed jolt through both of us, leaving us blushing furiously across the table.
A heavy silence fell between us, the weight of our own words lingering in the air.
Desperate to break the tension, I cleared my throat and quickly changed the subject.
"H-How's the food?"
She blinked at me, then, as if snapping back to reality, returned to her meal with an eager nod.
"It's delicious!"
Her enthusiasm was contagious, and I found myself chuckling, the previous embarrassment fading into something warmer.
But then, just as I thought we had moved past the moment, she spoke again—this time, in a softer voice.
"You know… I was happy when I found out you were my classmate."
My eyes widened slightly, surprised by her sudden confession.
She stood up, her movements slow and deliberate, her golden hair falling across her face. The dim cafeteria lights caught the strands, giving them a soft glow.
"It's already late… I should go."
She hesitated for a brief moment before adding,
"Fujimaru-kun… what I said is true. I thought… maybe, finally, I could learn more about you."
Her gaze softened, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Thank you."
And then, just as she turned to leave, something inside me tightened.
A strange feeling—a pull in my chest, like I was standing at the edge of something important.
She had waited for me.
Not once, but twice.
If I let this moment pass, if I didn't say anything now—I might never get the chance again.
So before I could second-guess myself, before fear could steal my voice—I called out to her.
"Artoria-san."
She stopped, looking back at me, eyes wide with curiosity.
I swallowed the nervous lump in my throat, then forced myself to speak the truth.
"When I saw you in class… I was happy too."
For a second, she didn't move.
Then—slowly—she sat back down.
Not because she had to. Not because there was something left to say.
But because she needed a moment. To keep her happiness in check.
And when she lifted her gaze to meet mine—
She smiled.
A beautiful, radiant smile, tinged with the softest shade of pink across her cheeks.
"I'm better now. Thanks for saying it."
Her voice was gentle, filled with an understanding that caught me completely off guard.
"I know you feel awkward, but what truly matters is… you."
Her fingers curled slightly against the table.
"And I want to know more about you, Fujimaru-kun."
I stared at her, stunned by the sheer honesty in her words.
This girl… she always surprises me.
And before I could even think of a response, she stood up once more, brushing a hand through her golden locks.
"Bye, Fujimaru-kun. Let's meet again in class tomorrow."
And then—she was gone.
Leaving me alone in the empty cafeteria, my heart pounding in my chest.
I exhaled, running a hand through my hair, trying to calm the strange mix of emotions swirling inside me.
For the first time in a long while—
I felt like I had learned something new.
Not about battle.
Not about duty.
But about something far more personal.
I smiled to myself, remembering her words.
Maybe—just maybe—this was the start of something special.
---
---
(Yuji Itadori's POV)
"Hahh—! Hahh—!"
My breath came out in short bursts as I kept up the rhythm of my push-ups.
The main ground was wide open, a massive training field that stretched as far as the eye could see.
I had already finished my sprints, pushing my legs to their limits, and now, I was focused on endurance.
Running. Push-ups. More running. Then squats.
Nothing fancy—just pure, old-fashioned training.
I wiped the sweat from my forehead, exhaling deeply before switching to sit-ups.
'Alright, Yuji. One hundred more, and you're done.'
I clenched my fists, focusing on my breathing as I moved.
To be honest, I wasn't really the strategic type.
Sure, I could learn more, train hard, pick up new moves—but at the end of the day, I was the kind of guy who fought best when I relied on my instincts.
I wasn't like Karma, who analyzed everything before making a move.
Or Oreki, who would rather not make a move at all.
Or Ritsuka who thoughtful in his moves.
Nope. I was just me.
A guy who ran, punched, and fought until he won.
And honestly?
That was good enough for me.
---
(Hōtarō Oreki's POV)
"…It's too early for this."
I let out a sigh, rubbing the back of my neck as I walked down the hall, a hot cup of coffee in one hand.
Unlike Yuji, who was probably trying to break his own bones in training, or Karma, who was off scheming something, Or Ritsuka who serious In getting strong. I had taken a more… reasonable approach.
Which was to say—
I wasn't training.
Not yet, anyway.
Instead, I found an empty hallway, a quiet space where I could sip my coffee in peace, and watch the sunset.
Training could wait.
For now?
I was just going to enjoy this moment of silence.
---