"Is there something you need, Kirihara?"
Ikki Kurogane stole a glance at Okita Souji's increasingly darkening expression, his gaze taking on a hint of hostility as well.
"Don't be so unfriendly, Kurogane. We're old friends, after all."
A wicked smile tugged at the corners of Kirihara Shizuya's mouth.
He wanted to see Ikki Kurogane suffer, to watch him struggle in vain. No matter how much he taunted Ikki with insults or attacks, Ikki always took it silently, making Kirihara feel like the fool jumping around. He despised it—no, he hated Ikki. And today, seeing him with such a beautiful girl by his side only made things worse.
Noticing Ikki's vigilance towards him, Kirihara secretly smirked. He believed he'd found something Ikki cared about.
"I'm surprised, Kurogane. I didn't know you had such a lovely young lady by your side. A new transfer, perhaps? I heard you call her 'Souji' earlier; it's a charming name."
Kirihara ran a hand through his hair with an exaggerated flourish, adopting a mock-gentlemanly stance as he placed a hand over his heart, bowing slightly towards Okita Souji. "I hope I might be so fortunate as to know your name, Miss?"
Before Souji could respond, Ikki quickly pulled her behind him.
"What are you trying to do, Kirihara?"
Yes, glare at me, Ikki Kurogane. The more hostile you are, the more it proves just how much you care about this girl.
"What am I trying to do? I just wanted to introduce myself to this young lady. But, Kurogane, what exactly are you trying to do?" Kirihara replied, feigning innocence. "Is she your girlfriend? Even if she is, don't you think you're being a bit overprotective?"
Hearing Kirihara's words, a few girls around him quickly jumped in to agree.
"Yeah, exactly!"
"It's an honor to even talk to Kirihara. Who does a lowly F-rank like you think you are?"
"He's probably just insecure, worried she'll leave him as soon as she meets Kirihara."
"That's a given! There's no comparing an F-rank loser to Kirihara!"
"That girl must be blind to even consider dating a loser like him."
The constant chatter buzzed around like a swarm of flies, annoying as could be.
Yet, their words fueled Kirihara's vanity, prompting him to play the part of a "kind soul" by making excuses for Souji.
"Surely this young lady has simply been deceived by Kurogane's lies. Once she knows his true colors, she wouldn't stay with such a failure. Don't blame her; she just picked the wrong person to trust."
Then, as if Ikki didn't exist, he turned to Souji, looking down on her with arrogance. "It might be rude of me to ask for your name, so I'll introduce myself first. I'm Kirihara Shizuya, a C-rank knight from Class 2-3, top of last year's first-year class, and one of last year's representatives for the Seven Stars Sword Art Festival—a complete contrast to this so-called 'Worst One.'"
In flaunting his own status, Kirihara made sure to belittle Ikki as much as possible, feeling a surge of satisfaction as he imagined this girl's gaze shifting to one of admiration and awe. After all, he was a prodigy who'd earned the right to represent his class as a first-year. Surely someone as "average" as the Worst One couldn't compare to someone favored by the heavens like him.
However, his expectation was met only with disappointment; not a flicker of emotion crossed Souji's face.
Her amber eyes remained unmoved, as still as stagnant water.
Kirihara's smile wavered ever so slightly.
"...Maybe you don't know the real Ikki Kurogane. Perhaps he's only been pretending to be cool in front of you, but in truth, he's a coward who ran from our fight—"
Shhk!
Flesh split apart, blood erupting with violent vitality.
His vision turned blood-red, every breath choked with the stench of iron.
What… just happened?
"Gahh—!"
When Kirihara came to, he found his hands clasped tightly around his own neck, trembling as he stood a good two meters away from Souji and Ikki.
His clothes were drenched in sweat, a string of saliva dribbling from his mouth.
A hallucination?
His throat had been slit open, blood pouring from the wound despite his hands pressing desperately to stop it, slipping through his fingers.
He wanted to call for help, to scream, to demand answers, but only hot blood gushed from his lips.
It felt too real… too real to be just an illusion…
"Could you… step away from me?"
At that, Kirihara instinctively met her gaze, and in an instant, he felt his soul freeze over.
What kind of look was that?
There was no fear, no excitement, no anger—no emotion at all. Her eyes were an empty abyss, void of any humanity.
It was as if…
"I might just lose control… and draw my sword to kill you."
…a gaze of death.
Just how much death had she witnessed to hold such a look?
How many lives had she taken to cultivate such eyes?
It was not a look any human could bear, but a gaze fit only for a killer who could face mountains of corpses and rivers of blood without flinching.
To her, death was as natural as breathing.
Ikki could only stare, both afraid and in awe of her—a woman he realized he barely understood.
"Souji…"
He reached out, whispering her name as if calling to her.
Souji turned to him, her pink, shoulder-length hair swaying as she tilted her head slightly.
"Hmm? What is it, Ikki?"
The familiar Souji had returned from that distant, unreachable place.
Her amber eyes, clear and untainted, her fair skin reminiscent of blooming camellias…
But the previous moment had been no illusion; the suffocating death aura lingered, palpable and terrifying.
Kirihara had already fled in terror, with his group of girls scrambling after him.
Ikki wanted to ask Souji about it, but as he opened his mouth, he found he didn't know where to begin.
Could he directly ask, "Souji, how many people have you killed?"
Even Ikki wasn't sure if merely killing could produce such a terrifying presence.
And now, it was difficult to reconcile this Souji with that soulless killer.
His thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion.
"So… how long do you plan on holding my hand?"
Only when Souji spoke did Ikki realize he was still holding her hand and quickly let go.
"S-sorry!"
"It's fine; I wasn't complaining."
Souji brushed it off as if it was nothing, giving Ikki a hearty pat on the back as if they were comrades rather than a boy and a girl.
"That annoying guy's your opponent, right? You'd better teach him a lesson on my behalf. I'm rooting for you!"
"Well… I'm not that confident."
"You have me, don't you? I'll help you!"
"Hey, don't push! I can walk on my own!"
Thank you, Souji, for believing in me.
And Stella…
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Thanks for reading! Let me know if you spot any mistakes or inconsistencies!
Posture and water check! Remember this is a fan translation!
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