The flashbang hit the ground with a soft clink before erupting into blinding light. Students staggered, their world reduced to white noise and ringing ears. Through the chaos, a figure moved like water—each motion flowing into the next. A side kick sent one student sprawling, the momentum carrying into a spin that dropped their teammate. Without missing a beat, the attacker launched upward, his roundhouse kick painting a perfect arc through the air.
As the light faded, Takumi emerged from the settling dust, his scythe resting lazily on his shoulder. "You guys really need to work on your situational awareness," he drawled, looking far too pleased with himself.
A curved blade whistled past his ear, forcing him to dance backward. Another attacker followed through with a war axe, but Takumi just planted his scythe into the ground and used it like a gymnast's pole to swing himself clear. He landed with theatrical grace, spreading his arms wide.
"Come on, guys—we're all friends here, right? Let's talk," His grin suggested he was enjoying this way too much. The two circled him like wolves, weapons ready. "No? Alright then."
They rushed him simultaneously—exactly what he'd been waiting for. In one fluid motion, he yanked his scythe free and caught both weapons in a spinning parry that sent his attackers stumbling apart. Before they could recover, he flicked two small devices across the floor. They rolled to a stop beneath his opponents just as twin arcs of electricity coursed through them.
The pair hit the ground twitching, and Takumi slung his scythe across his back, already turning away with a dismissive wave. "Good talk..."
"No, it wasn't..." one of them managed to reply between labored breaths, still sprawled on the ground.
The defeated students dissolved in shimmers of cyan light, teleporting back to the bleachers. Some nursed their wounds, others bickered about failed strategies—typical fallout from forcing strangers to be teammates. Takumi's attention shifted left, where a familiar figure was putting on quite the show.
Liene danced backward, her kyoketsu-shoge's blade deflecting an attacker with casual grace. She spun the weapon like it was an extension of herself, the rope building momentum before releasing—sending another student stumbling. Her eyes found Takumi as she closed the distance between them, a playful smile touching her lips.
"Small world?" she purred, eyebrow arching delicately.
"Wish it was bigger..." Takumi drawled, though his smirk suggested otherwise.
A dagger whistled through the air between them, embedding itself in the floor. They turned to find its source: a pair of opponents, one casually flipping another blade while their partner crouched, rifle raised. The air erupted with gunfire, forcing Takumi and Liene apart. Another knife sliced through where Takumi had been standing a split-second earlier, making him rethink his landing.
When the gunfire paused for a reload, Liene rose in one fluid motion, her kyoketsu-shoge spinning faster and faster before she launched it like a meteor. Their knife-wielding opponent barely deflected it, but Takumi was already sliding beneath the gunner, kicking the rifle skyward. The shot went wide, but the rifle's stock caught him in the chest, pushing him back.
Liene seized the moment, retrieving her hook with practiced ease. She leaped, twirling through the air as the string unfurled from her pouch. The hook began to glow—her Nautilus Hook stellar skill activating. Bullets and daggers filled the air around her, but the glowing hook cut through their assault, finding its mark. She landed with perfect poise, her blade sinking into the ground as the string ensnared both opponents.
Takumi's grease trap did the rest, turning their desperate struggles into an ungraceful slide right out of the arena. He strolled forward, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
"They say you shouldn't run in school; of course, no one listens, so here we are..." he shrugged, resting his head against his scythe handle with exaggerated nonchalance.
"Oh, shush. Like you did all the heavy lifting," Liene remarked with a soft chuckle, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm.
"Ah, ah, ah," Takumi wagged his finger, leaning towards her with theatrical flair. "The gentleman takes center stage while the lady watches as the action unfolds..." He spread his arms wide, gripping his scythe as he struck a pose worthy of a stage performance.
Liene's melodic laughter filled the air, somehow both mocking and fond. "My, my... always the showman, aren't you?"
Meanwhile, Claire fidgeted at the arena's edge, her fingers drumming an anxious rhythm against her bow. All around her, the freshman class tournament had erupted into chaos - nearly sixty students locked in fierce combat. She winced at every clash and explosion, her eyes darting between potential targets without settling on any.
"Um, okay Claire, you can do this," she mumbled, wiping her palms on her pants for the third time. "Just pick someone and—eep!"
A flash of movement cut her off - a student charging straight at her with a double-headed spear. Without thinking, Claire's body moved on its own. Her draw was smooth as silk, the arrow finding its mark in a perfect arc. Only after she'd loosed it did her conscious mind catch up, surprised at her own precision.
The spear-wielder ducked (of course they did, she thought with an internal groan) and closed in. Claire stumbled backward, nearly tripping over her own feet. "W-wait, can we talk about—"
A whistle of air was her only warning. Claire's body twisted again, moving with an instinctive grace that completely contradicted her stammered words. A leaf-shaped projectile sliced through the space where her head had been moments before. She blinked, momentarily startled by her own reflexes.
"Oh! That was actually kind of co—" Her self-congratulation cut short as she spotted the spear-wielder's follow-up strike. Claire dropped and rolled, the movement flowing like water. Her hands found the ground and she pushed off, launching into a backflip that would have made her training instructor proud (if only they could see her when she wasn't overthinking everything).
The satisfaction lasted approximately two seconds before vines erupted from the ground, wrapping around her ankles. As they yanked her into a dizzying spin, Claire's composed battle instincts and natural awkwardness had a brief civil war.
"This is fine! Everything's totally—oh no oh no oh no!" The last part came out as a squeak as the vines released, sending her hurtling toward the boundary. Mid-flight, however, something clicked. Her hand moved to her quiver, fingers finding the arrow with the attached string by touch alone. The shot was perfect - another moment of that mysterious combat grace she somehow possessed.
Using the tethered arrow as an anchor point, Claire swung in a wide arc, her momentum carrying her in a controlled circle that ended with her landing in a perfect crouch. One hand gripped the arrow shaft while the other reached up to nervously tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Um, hi again?" she managed, giving a small wave that completely undermined the impressive acrobatics she'd just pulled off. "That was... meant to happen. Totally meant to happen."
The spearman's eyes narrowed, clearly not amused by her awkward attempt at levity. As they charged forward, Claire's fidgeting hands suddenly steadied, her movements becoming liquid smooth. The arrow was nocked and loosed in one flowing motion, as natural as breathing. Only after the arrow had pinned her opponent's shoulder to the ground did Claire blink in surprise at her own accuracy.
"Oh! I actually hit—" Her self-congratulation cut short as a flash of green caught her eye. The spearman's partner had conjured a leaf blade, the edge gleaming dangerously as they slashed toward her. Claire's body moved instinctively, dropping into a graceful duck that completely belied her usual clumsiness. Another arrow was already in her hands, drawn and fired before she had time to second-guess herself. The shot caught her attacker square in the chest, the impact sending them sailing past the arena's boundary line. Both opponents vanished in a flash of light, teleported safely to the spectator seats.
The moment the fight ended, Claire's shoulders slumped as if someone had cut her puppet strings. She collapsed onto the ground, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. "Did... did I really just do all that?"
Walking back to retrieve her embedded arrow felt like the longest journey of her life, especially with what felt like the entire arena's eyes on her. She tugged it free with trembling fingers, nearly dropping it twice before managing to slide it back into her quiver. Her face burned as she realized just how many people might have witnessed both her graceful fighting and her subsequent fumbling.
"Aw geez, what have I gotten myself into?" she muttered, hugging her arms around herself. Her eyes darted around the arena, searching for any sign of her mysteriously absent teammate. "This would be a really great time for you to show up... anyone? No? Just me then? Great..."
She quickly recalled splitting up from Takumi, Liene, and Rose to avoid facing each other in battle. Her eyes drifted to Kazuki's now-empty seat, and she caught herself twirling a strand of yellow hair, a nervous habit she couldn't shake.
Moving forward into the arena, her arms swinging listlessly at her sides, she found herself searching for Kazuki despite her best efforts. "Stop that," she muttered, giving her cheeks a light smack.
"I can do this, I can do this, I can do this..." The words tumbled out in a rushed whisper, trying to drown the anxiety crawling up her throat.
Darui's sharp clap cut through her mantra, silencing the excited chatter of the freshman class. As he launched into the explanation, Claire's mind wandered, only catching fragments.
"Border... elimination... teammate goes too..." she murmured, piecing it together. Then it hit her – if she messed up, she'd drag Kazuki down with her. Her hands clenched. "Wait a sec, why should I care? He won't even talk to me, capisce?!"
A fireball whizzed past her head. She dodged smoothly, body moving on autopilot while her thoughts continued to spiral. "Like I even care anymore. Let him complain if I don't—" She bit her lip, remembering how he'd saved her. Twice. Her irritation only grew. "Seriously, couldn't it have been someone brave and caring? No, had to be some weirdo in black."
An arrow streaked toward her. Without breaking her internal rant, her hand snapped up, plucking it from the air and tucking it into her quiver. Rose's beaming face flashed through her mind, proud after their entrance exam success.
"Ugh," she groaned, shoulders slumping. "Can't disappoint Rose, can I? Geez Rose, guess I've gotta see this through, capisce?"
A small smile tugged at her lips before she forced herself to focus on remembering the rules. "Non-lethal combat... thirty minutes... performance evaluation... teamwork development..." Her eyes rolled so hard they nearly stuck. "Teamwork? With Mr. Silent Treatment? Yeah, right."
The mental image of Kazuki surrounded by angry flames made her snort. Another sigh escaped as she tried to concentrate. "And something about this being different from the Starfield... fighting Akumos... whatever." She waved her hand dismissively. "I already forgot most of it anyway."
Finally, the arena's border shimmered faintly where Darui's spell had created it. Claire watched the clock tick down - twelve minutes remaining. A deep sigh escaped her as she stepped backward... and collided with someone.
Her heart jumped into her throat as she turned. Kazuki. Of course it had to be Kazuki. He barely acknowledged her with a sideways glance, his expression as unreadable as ever, before facing forward again.
Standing back-to-back amid the chaos of battle, Claire felt her thoughts spiral. Her hands trembled on her bow as sweat beaded on her forehead. The silence stretched between them like a physical thing, until her brain short-circuited and picked the worst possible topic.
"Hey, uh, do you think cats dream about us?" The words tumbled out in a squeaky rush that made her want to melt into the floor.
"What?" Even Kazuki's customary emptiness cracked slightly with disbelief.
"I just... I mean, they sleep a lot. Like, a lot." Her hands flailed awkwardly as she tried to explain. "You think we're in their dreams? Or is it just mice and... string?" She cringed at her own rambling, absently rubbing her bow against her head.
"What?" For once, Kazuki sounded genuinely baffled despite the dry tone.
"Well, you know..." Claire wished desperately for a convenient hole to swallow her.
Kazuki's sudden tension cut through her embarrassment. A metallic click carried across the arena - a rifle being reloaded. Before Claire could process what was happening, his hand locked around hers.
"...Heh?" Her squeak of surprise was cut short as he yanked her sideways. The crack of gunfire split the air where they'd been standing. Claire stumbled after him, her conscious mind still caught between cats and chaos.
Metal rang against metal as Kazuki's sword intercepted a revolver round with mechanical precision. He ducked, pulling Claire with him as five more bullets whistled overhead. Through the mayhem, she glimpsed their attackers - a rifleman already taking aim and a revolver-wielder reloading.
Claire's mouth hung open, her brain struggling to catch up while her feet somehow kept pace with Kazuki's swift movements. "Uh, hey!" she managed to squeak out, her voice cracking even as her body unconsciously flowed around incoming fire. Her hand was still locked in his, and she couldn't decide which was worse - her mortifying cat question or the fact that she was now holding hands with the most emotionally unavailable person she'd ever met.
For a moment, the world seemed to blur and stretch around her. The chaos of the arena faded into distant echoes as Kazuki's firm grip closed around her hand. Claire's mind raced in a dozen directions at once—was she supposed to say something? Why was he touching her? Should she pull away? Oh god, were her palms sweaty?
The sharp ring of steel on steel snapped her back to reality as Kazuki's blade intercepted a bullet with precise economy of movement. Four more shots came in rapid succession, each meeting his sword with mechanical precision. His eyes narrowed slightly—the only indication he'd even noticed the rifleman reloading.
"Eep!" Claire stumbled backward as a bullet whizzed past, her feet tangling beneath her. She caught herself with a graceless hop-skip, face burning. "I mean, I totally meant to do that," she mumbled to no one in particular.
Something shifted in Kazuki's gaze. Without a word, he nudged her shoulder—barely a touch—as three massive boulders came crashing toward them from a distant fight.
"Wait, what are you—" Claire's words dissolved into an undignified squeak as Kazuki launched himself onto the first boulder.
"You can't just—that's not—get back here!" She gestured wildly, nearly smacking herself in the face. Then something clicked. Her shoulders squared, feet finding purchase on the uneven ground. With fluid grace that would have shocked her if she'd stopped to think about it, she vaulted after him.
Kazuki acknowledged her presence with the barest tilt of his head, his steps never faltering as he ran along the boulder's curved surface. His hair whipped in the wind as they used the rolling stone for cover, buying precious seconds while their opponents scrambled to adjust.
"Next time," Claire panted, surprising herself with how steady her voice was, "maybe give a girl some warning?"
Kazuki's response was a single raised eyebrow, never breaking stride.
Claire stumbled after Kazuki, her legs shaking like a newborn fawn's as she clutched her bow. Her knuckles went white against the grip, partly from determination and partly from sheer terror. Above her, Kazuki was already running diagonally up the boulder's curve, each step precise and measured.
"Oh no oh no oh nooooooo!" Claire's cry pitched upward as she launched herself after him, yellow hair whipping across her face like a curtain. Her heart thundered in her chest, fear and adrenaline mixing with something else—something that felt suspiciously like excitement.
Kazuki pivoted smoothly, using his sword as a counterweight to flip onto the third boulder. Claire's eyes went wide. Without thinking, her body moved on its own, following his path through the air. It wasn't until she was airborne that her brain caught up with what she was doing.
"This was a terrible ideaaaa!"
Time stretched like honey as Kazuki twisted between bullets, each movement fluid as water. Claire crashed onto the boulder behind him, windmilling her arms as she fought for balance. For a split second, she caught sight of the ground below and her breath caught—they were so high up it felt like flying.
Then Kazuki was moving again, dropping into a perfect roll that brought him to his feet, sword already in position. Claire followed with significantly less grace, face-planting into the dirt with a muffled "oof." She lay there for a moment, spitting out grass and trying to remember how breathing worked.
Frustration bubbled up through her embarrassment. She pushed herself to her knees, blowing hair out of her face as she shot daggers at Kazuki's back. "You could've warned me! Or, I don't know, explained literally anything about what we were doing?!"
"Stay." The word fell from his lips like a stone, his eyes already fixed on their opponents.
"Stay? What am I, a—" The rest of her protest vanished in a yelp as Kazuki exploded forward, the force of his charge sending her hair flying. "Hey! We are so having words about this later!" She shouted at his retreating back, then muttered under her breath, "Assuming my dignity survives this match."
Kazuki surged toward their attackers with liquid grace, his blade weaving through the hail of bullets as if they moved in slow motion. His expression never changed - each dodge was simply a problem solved, a calculation completed.
The duo split apart, the revolver-wielder drawing a dagger in one smooth motion. Steel rang against steel as Kazuki deflected their slash, the dagger spinning away into the dirt. Before he could press his advantage, they tackled him to the ground, pinning him with their full weight.
Claire's fingers fumbled with her bow as she watched the rifle-wielder's weapon begin to glow with an ominous light. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she tried to nock an arrow, nearly dropping it twice before getting it settled.
"Lucky you," the rifleman's voice dripped with smug satisfaction. "You're the first to see this stellar skill I've been working on... 'Bullet Storm.'"
"Oh." Kazuki's tone held the same interest one might show a slightly unusual cloud formation.
"Get out of there!" Claire's voice cracked as she drew back her bowstring. Her hands wouldn't stop shaking. "Move!"
The arrow flew true despite her trembling, striking the rifleman's shoulder with a solid thunk. They grunted but kept charging their skill, the weapon's glow intensifying. Claire stumbled forward, panic closing her throat.
Kazuki lay still as stone, studying the rifle's glowing barrel with mild curiosity. Then, without warning, he slammed his head backward, catching his captor square in the face. They reeled back with a startled yelp.
The rifle erupted with a thunderous roar, bullets spraying with such force that the wielder's whole body shuddered. Claire's breath caught in her throat as she watched, unable to look away.
But Kazuki... Kazuki just walked. Each step placed with deliberate precision, he wove between the bullets like a leaf drifting through raindrops. His expression never changed, as if dodging certain defeat was no different than stepping around a puddle.
Confusion bloomed across the rifleman's face as their sure-kill attack carved nothing but trenches in the arena floor. Before they could adjust their aim, Kazuki's hand closed around the rifle's glowing barrel. Steam hissed between his fingers, but his gray eyes might as well have been carved from ice as they met the rifleman's increasingly panicked gaze.
One sharp twist sent the rifle spinning from their grip. The follow-up strike was surgical - a precise blow that dropped them to the ground, unconscious. The weapon clattered down beside them, its glow fading to nothing.
Claire stood rooted to the spot, bow hanging forgotten at her side. She tried to form words, but her mouth just opened and closed soundlessly.
"Sure..." Kazuki's dry sarcastic whisper carried clearly in the sudden quiet. He turned away from the fallen rifle, already dismissing it from his thoughts.
Claire watched, transfixed, as Kazuki sheathed his sword with fluid precision. The metallic click seemed to echo as their opponents dissolved into cyan particles, teleporting back to the bleachers. Her arrow clattered to the ground where the rifleman had been moments before.
A knot formed in her stomach as she replayed the fight in her mind. The way he'd moved, each action perfectly calculated... She might as well have been watching from the bleachers for all the difference she'd made. Her eyes drifted to the timer counting down above them, its steady march a reminder of how much further they had to go.
Lost in her spiral of self-doubt, she almost missed Kazuki's approach. Almost.
"Oh! He's—why is he—?" Her internal panic kicked into overdrive as he stopped barely a step away. His face turned slightly aside, carefully avoiding her gaze as he extended one hand. Her arrow rested in his palm.
His eyes flickered toward her for a fraction of a second. "I think this is yours."
"Arrowwww~ Y-yessss~ That's... mineeeee~" Claire winced at her own awkwardness, fumbling as she reached for it. Her fingers brushed his palm as she took the arrow, and she nearly dropped it twice trying to return it to her quiver. Kazuki stood perfectly still, his gaze fixed on some distant point as if fascinated by empty air.
She opened her mouth, curiosity temporarily overwhelming her nervousness—and the arena floor shot upward like a launching rocket.
"Wha—!" The word dissolved into a yelp as her stomach lurched. The battlefield transformed around them, platforms rising at different heights, sending students scrambling. Nearby, she glimpsed Takumi and Liene dropping into defensive stances, already adapting to the chaos.
Claire's legs betrayed her. She hit the ground with an ungraceful thud, catching herself on her elbow. "Ow ow ow..." She blew strands of hair from her face, trying to push herself up as the platform continued its ascent.
Through it all, Kazuki stood unmoved, one hand resting lightly on his sword hilt. His eyes swept the shifting arena with mechanical precision, taking in every detail of their new battlefield.
"Since when does the arena do... this?!" Claire managed between attempts to stand, her legs wobbling like jelly beneath her.
I'll revise this to maintain Claire's dual nature and Kazuki's minimalist personality while keeping the action fluid and dialogue natural:
The arena shuddered to a halt, sending a wave of fatigue through everyone present. Claire crouched on the floor, her world still spinning as she tried to catch her breath beside the impossibly steady Kazuki.
"Just... checking... legs still attached?" she mumbled, more to herself than anyone else.
"Remarkably, yes." Kazuki's flat tone carried the faintest hint of dry humor.
"Oh goooooood~" Claire gave a wobbly thumbs-up before her arm flopped to the ground. It took several seconds for her brain to catch up and register who had actually answered her.
As her vision cleared, the transformed battlefield came into focus. Students lay scattered across the platforms, some groaning, others retching. But even through the collective dizziness, the fighting resumed. Pairs of combatants staggered to their feet, taking advantage of their opponents' weakness to claim victory.
Then the floor began to crumble.
"No no no—" Claire scrambled upright as the edges started dissolving into nothing. Around her, students fled or fell, disappearing in flashes of cyan light as they tumbled from the arena.
A metallic ring cut through the chaos. Claire spun to see Kazuki deflecting a scimitar strike with his left hand, the movement so fluid it looked rehearsed. He pushed forward without hesitation, his footwork precise despite the deteriorating ground.
Something moved in her peripheral vision. Claire turned, too late, as a two-handed blade descended toward her—only to be met with a resounding clang. She blinked at Kazuki's sword, somehow embedded in the ground between her and her attacker.
"Huh?"
Before she could process what had happened, a fireball blazed past, sending her would-be attacker stumbling back. Claire's body moved on instinct, bow rising as she drew and nocked an arrow in one smooth motion. Her aim settled on a blue-haired boy with his hands raised defensively.
"Whoa, easy! Just trying to help!" His nervous smile did nothing to steady her aim.
"With explosions?" Her voice wavered slightly, but her draw remained steady.
"You looked like you could use a hand..." he stammered, "That's all!"
Claire's eyes narrowed as she studied him, something nagging at the edge of her memory. Kazuki materialized beside her, sword retrieved and ready, his presence a steady counterpoint to her racing thoughts.
The recognition hit her just as Kazuki's hand closed around hers.
"Wha—?!" She barely had time to squeak before he yanked her away from the crumbling edge that had been creeping toward her feet.
Claire yanked her hand free, stumbling for a moment before finding her rhythm. She matched his pace, her annoyance bubbling over as she fell in beside him.
"Ever heard of asking first?!" She shook her fist at him, cheeks puffed in frustration. "Normal people say things like 'Hey, watch out!' or 'The floor's disappearing!'"
Kazuki kept his eyes forward, expression unchanging. "Same result. You'd still end up being dragged."
"That's—you're missing the entire—ugh!" Claire threw her hands up, nearly clotheslining herself with her bow in the process. "Being right isn't the same as being nice, you know!"
His eyes flickered toward her for a fraction of a second. "I don't... know what you mean." The tiny stutter in his monotone was so unexpected it felt like a thunderclap.
Claire opened her mouth, then closed it, that brief crack in his armor catching her off guard. But the rumble of crumbling floor snapped her focus back to survival. They moved in unexpected synchronization—Kazuki's blade clearing their path while Claire's arrows found targets with fluid precision, dropping opponents before they could close in.
As they ran, something tugged at the edges of her thoughts. A persistent whisper she couldn't quite ignore, try as she might. Her eyes drifted to Kazuki's unwavering profile, that mask of indifference that somehow made everything more confusing.
"You again... always you..." The words slipped out like a sigh, barely a whisper.
Kazuki's eyes caught the movement of her lips, but his expression remained carefully, deliberately blank. His grip tightened fractionally on his sword, the only sign he might have heard—or that it might have meant anything at all.