--- Nakamura Akari ---
"Is this... really my brother?"
The question slipped from my lips as I watched him achieve the top score in the Entrance Exam.
I should've felt nothing but pride—and for the most part, I did. Yet, beneath that pride churned a mess of emotions I couldn't fully untangle.
It was only natural, wasn't it?
Was this truly the same brother who once lingered in my shadow, dismissed and ignored by our scumbag family, bearing their scorn in silence?
If only he told me sooner, we could've plotted on how to completely wipe them out together.
Though he'd brush off my hesitant questions with little more than a wry smile or a vague reply, I could sense the growing distance between us.
And the more I tried to bridge it, the further apart we seemed to drift.
It also didn't help that his reputation soared almost overnight. People who used to ignore him were now clamoring for his attention. I couldn't walk through the halls without someone stopping me, asking if I could introduce them to him.
Even in class, his desk was never empty. People surrounded him, chatting about lessons, clubs, and even speculating if he'd join the student council.
He was popular. Really popular.
It was frustrating.
Each time I wanted to talk to him, I had to push through them, interrupting whatever conversation he was having. Even then, I barely got a word in before someone else stole his attention again.
Things kept going like that for a while, before I noticed some changes.
To be specific, ever since his duel with that dumb ass—there was a subtle change in him.
He could hide it from anyone, but not me.
I'm still his sibling, after all.
Before, his eyes always seemed to carry emotions I couldn't quite place. But now, that complexity was gone. His gaze had softened, his overall temperament more relaxed, like he'd let go of something heavy.
I wanted to ask him about it, but each time I did, he either made some joke or changed the topic.
It was frustratingly contradictory, yet undeniable—he'd grown more open with me in ways I hadn't expected.
Despite the changes, or perhaps because of them, the bond between us seemed to be mending itself, though in a form that felt unfamiliar.
Change was unsettling. It carried an unpredictable weight, and I wasn't sure where it would take us. But mixed with that fear was a fragile thread of hope.
Hope that, for once, he would understand.
I care—not out of obligation or duty, but simply because I want to.
Would those feelings ever reach him, though?
...Probably not.
I know myself well enough to admit it—I'm terrible at putting these things into words. It's just so awkward and embarrassing.
Why does expressing something so simple have to be so hard?
As long as he's fine, though, It's alright.
Still, this change felt monumental.
It was like a heavy stone, one that had always existed between us, had suddenly been lifted. For the first time, I could imagine what it would feel like to move forward without its weight pressing down on us.
And that alone was enough to make me hope, just a little more.
---
The usual routine kept on repeating for a few weeks, up to the point I thought the situation was finally settling down.
...At least, that's what I thought, until that day came.
It was lunchtime—just another ordinary afternoon. I was bracing myself for the usual scene: the flood of students gravitating toward my brother's desk like moths to a flame. But this time, something different happened.
Someone got there first.
She moved with startling speed—a girl with dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and an aura so commanding it seemed to drain the air from the room.
I recognized her instantly.
Shiba Miyuki.
The moment she stepped in front of his desk, a hush fell over the classroom.
Despite being in the same class, she and my brother had never so much as exchanged pleasantries, keeping their distance like polar opposites meant to repel each other.
No—scratch that. It was more than that. There had always been a subtle tension between them, like a predator and prey sharing the same space, watching and waiting for the other to make a move.
But that was before.
What the fuck is she doing now?
Her serious expression and purposeful stance said enough. Every eye in the room was glued to her. My seatmates poked at me, whispering questions I didn't have answers to. I just shook my head, too stunned to react.
She ignored the murmurs, addressing my brother in a calm, steady voice that cut through the silence like a knife.
"Would you form a club with me?"
A club. The word itself was painfully mundane, yet it felt like a bomb had gone off. In a school full of clubs, the question should've been harmless. Routine.
But here, with these two?
It was anything but.
The Ace of Class 1-A, pairing up with one of the most talented mages in the school? That wasn't just a club—that was a powerhouse in the making. The influence they'd wield would be enormous.
The class buzzed with speculation.
Why would she ask him this in front of everyone?
Couldn't she have done it in private?
What was her goal?
But the only person who could answer was Miyuki herself, and she wasn't offering any explanations.
All eyes turned to my brother.
He met her gaze head-on, a faint smile tugging at his lips. His expression was calm, almost unreadable, yet his eyes carried a sharpness that made it impossible to look away.
For a moment, I found myself wondering if there was something deeper between them.
If this had happened in the past, I would've been more shocked by the simple fact that my brother could hold a woman's gaze like that without faltering...
Wait. That was a strange thought.
The silence dragged on, heavy with anticipation. Tension hung in the air like a coiled spring, the room growing more restless with each passing second.
Just as people began fidgeting in their seats, he finally spoke.
"Why not."
The reaction was instantaneous.
Cheers erupted, a wave of excitement crashing over the class. It was as though everyone had collectively decided this was the most thrilling event of the year.
They didn't even know what the club was for, yet students were already clamoring to join. The room transformed into a chaotic mess of voices, questions, and pure enthusiasm.
I stayed in my seat, watching the commotion unfold with a mix of curiosity and unease. Was this a good thing? A bad thing? I couldn't tell.
For now...
"Can I join this club too?"
My voice rang out loud enough to cut through the chatter.
Honestly, I didn't really care what the club was about. It just seemed like the perfect opportunity to dig a little deeper into this bizarre situation—and, well, I wasn't exactly keen on joining any other club either.
But the moment my question left my lips, something unexpected happened.
Shiba Miyuki glanced at me, her confident demeanor wavering. Her gaze dropped, and for just a split second, I caught something I never thought I'd see from her.
Guilt.
Wait.
...
For real?
This b*tch.
--- Miyuki ---
All my life, I was led to believe I was a genius.
Objectively, the evidence supported it. I excelled in my studies, mastered Magic others found impossible, and consistently stood at the top of my class.
In my heart, I knew my Onii-sama was far above me, but that was mostly it.
People admired me, praised me, even envied me.
But recently, I was humbled—in the worst way imaginable.
I know I shouldn't compare myself to someone like him, but how could I not?
As a kind of test, I asked for a spar.
Twenty seconds later, I was flat on the ground, his sword hanging mere inches from my neck.
No murderous intent, and not a single hair plucked from by body.
Yet, I was trembling in fear.
What made it worse was that throughout the entire fight, he was just playing around.
To be more precise, he was testing things, trying out his spells with a kind of detached curiosity.
No matter how much I struggled, I couldn't keep up.
The sting of that moment lingered in my chest like a wound that wouldn't close.
But I wasn't the type to wallow in self-pity. I forfeited with as much grace as I could muster, dusting myself off and standing tall again.
"Was my Magic too weak?" I asked, forcing my voice to remain steady despite the turmoil inside. "Or... am I doing something wrong?"
The truth was hard to accept, but undeniable.
In front of him, my Magic was utterly useless.
That realization hit me the moment the fight began, yet I couldn't pinpoint why. It wasn't just that he was stronger than me—that much was obvious. No, this was something else entirely. A gulf I couldn't even begin to measure.
I needed answers.
The quickest way to understand was to ask the person who shattered my confidence so effortlessly. My mind had already come to terms with the fact that his strength was far above mine, no matter how bitter that truth was.
Even Onii-sama admitted he couldn't stand against Nakamura.
It was a hard pill to swallow, but it had to be done. Pride was a fleeting luxury. It wouldn't help us survive. If anything, it was something to be discarded.
He tilted his head slightly, his crimson eyes narrowing as if he were weighing his response carefully. For a brief moment, I wondered if he would simply brush off my question.
It wouldn't have surprised me.
But to my surprise, he spoke.
"I can't say," Nakamura replied, his tone calm but carrying a sharp undercurrent, like a blade hidden in silk. "I don't understand how your Magic works."
I blinked, caught off guard by his words. Of all the answers he could have given me, I hadn't expected that.
"You... don't?" I asked, furrowing my brows in confusion.
He shook his head, his expression unreadable. "No," he said plainly, but then a faint, almost amused smile played on his lips. "But I don't need to."
The weight of his words sank in slowly, like a heavy stone dropped into a still pond, and I felt my chest tighten.
I was too naive.
I had assumed that someone stronger than my brother—a Magician of his caliber—would naturally understand everything about my spells. That was how overwhelming strength worked, wasn't it? An unshakable advantage born of superior comprehension.
But Nakamura wasn't simply stronger than me. He was beyond such concepts.
The realization was humbling, almost suffocating.
As expected of someone not from this World.
"What do you mean?" I asked, though deep down, I already had an inkling of the answer.
"I don't know what your Magic does," he said, his tone unhurried, almost indifferent. "But I've grasped how you fight."
He gestured lightly with his hand, the movement casual yet dismissive, as if what he'd done was the easiest thing in the world. "Your habits, your strengths, your weaknesses. I've… swallowed them whole, you could say."
"S-Swallowed?" I repeated, a mix of confusion and discomfort bubbling to the surface. The phrasing caught me off guard, and I felt a blush creeping onto my cheeks. Why did that sound so… perverted?
He smirked faintly, perhaps sensing my reaction, but didn't elaborate on his choice of words. Instead, he pressed on.
"I mean, I've started thinking like you. What spell would you cast next? What approach would you take? How would you counter me?"
His gaze locked onto mine, sharp and unrelenting.
"Once I understand you, I don't need to know how your Magic works. I only need to predict your moves and dismantle them."
He leaned back slightly, the intensity of his gaze never wavering. "If it were your brother standing in front of me, things would be different. His approach leaves little to no room for error. But you? You're just a pretty greenhouse flower. You have not grown yet"
The bluntness of his words hit me like a cold wind, and I lowered my gaze, clenching my fists at my sides.
My Onii-sama is incredible. To have someone this powerful acknowledge his strength as exceptional… it means my brother's abilities truly stand in a league of their own.
I do have something to say about his choice for words, but he's right.
I'm too weak compared to my brother.
In the past, that alone would have been enough for me. I would've basked in the reflected glory of his achievements, like he was complimenting me.
But I couldn't afford to think that way anymore.
If things stayed as they were, I'd remain nothing more than a burden—just another weight my brother would have to carry on his already overburdened shoulders.
That wasn't what I wanted.
I wanted him to look to me not for protection, but for partnership. To stand by his side and share the responsibility of shielding this world from harm.
I hated how effortlessly Nakamura defeated me, but at the same time, I couldn't help but admire the sheer brilliance of his approach.
Compared to the mages of our world, he had a different thought process.
I straightened my posture, refusing to let him see the cracks in my confidence.
"I see," I said, my voice softer but resolute. "So that's the difference between us."
The words were more for me than him—a whispered affirmation of the gap I needed to bridge.
Becoming stronger wouldn't be easy, but at least now I knew where to start.
He didn't respond immediately, his crimson eyes locked on mine, seemingly evaluating my resolve.
Then, with a faint nod, he broke the silence.
"Since you lost, you need to tell me your interpretation of Ice Magic, as we agreed to."
His tone shifted, playful curiosity replaced by dead seriousness.
I flinched, not from fear, but from the sudden proximity.
When had he moved so close?
His gaze bore into mine, intense but expectant, as if nothing else in the world mattered in that moment except my answer.
A wave of self-consciousness hit me like a freight train.
Sweat clung to my skin from the sparring match, and I was certain I probably didn't smell all that great either.
The idea of him standing so near, scrutinizing me, was unbearable.
"I—I need to shower first!" I blurted, stepping back a bit too quickly. My cheeks flared as I avoided his gaze.
"I'm drenched in sweat. It's not like I'll run away or anything!"
The words tumbled out in a rush, awkward and defensive. I cringed inwardly. Did I really have to say it like that?
And yet, I couldn't help but ramble. Why was he standing so close?
He was dangerous—in more ways than one.
I shook my head, trying to clear the treacherous thoughts. My loyalty to Onii-sama was unshakable, absolute. But even so, I was still a woman.
I wasn't literally made of ice.
He didn't look offended. If anything, he seemed... bemused. With a light shrug, he turned and moved away, settling onto a nearby couch like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Fine," he said, his tone casual again. He leaned back, folding his arms as if to say, I'll wait.
I let out a small sigh of relief but didn't linger, quickly making my way out of the room.
---
Part of me still couldn't shake the oddity of it.
This was someone who could stop time itself, who wielded knowledge and power I couldn't even fathom. What could I possibly teach him?
At first, I thought there was some hidden agenda behind his questions. But after a few sparring matches, I'd come to realize his interest was genuine.
He wasn't seeking technical answers or rote theories. It felt as though he wanted to understand something deeper through my own interpretations.
And, strangely enough, that curiosity piqued my own.
What could he possibly hope to gain from me?
Why not ask Onii-sama, who is capable of wielding much more powerful and intricate Magic?
I couldn't help but wonder.
Guess I have no choice but to wait for the day he'll show me the results.
---
Author's Note:
After this plot point, which will be fully explained next chapter, we'll then have a time skip, followed by the culmination of this Trial.
I predict we'll be done in about 7-8 chaps with Trial 4.
Get ready for Trial 5, we'll see a lot of interesting and cultured stuff.