Ei'en’s streets twisted and turned in a dizzying labyrinth, alive with the clamor of the city. The air was filled with the scent of sizzling food from street vendors, the rhythmic clanging of blacksmiths, and the endless murmur of merchants calling out their wares. Mei maneuvered through the crowd, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to keep up. Despite the academy’s crowded halls being home to more people than her childhood village, the sheer number of faces here overwhelmed her.
Her rare blue eyes made her a target for attention, though not in the way she wanted. People’s stares felt like a weight she couldn’t shake, as if they were silently appraising her. She had grown used to the quiet ridicule back home, but it didn’t make it easier. In a crowd this large, their curiosity felt like a spotlight, one that made her shrink further into the shadows. I shouldn’t let it bother me, she thought, but she couldn’t help it. Years of being an outsider, of being watched and whispered about, had left its mark.
Ahead of her, Umi Nagisa moved effortlessly through the crowd, her presence barely a ripple in the flow of people. She was like water—fluid, silent, and always one step ahead. Mei strained to match her pace, the beating of her heart loud in her ears as they darted through the city streets. The distance between them seemed to grow with every step, her legs burning with the effort to keep up.
They’d been running for only fifteen minutes, covering nearly three miles, but Mei’s lungs were on fire. She could feel the weight of every breath, her chest tight with exertion. How does she make it look so easy? Mei thought, trying to push herself further despite the strain. I’m not like her. That thought stung, but she bit back the frustration. She had come this far. She had to keep going.
Without warning, Umi Nagisa veered sharply down a narrow alley. Mei barely managed to follow her, feet slipping on the uneven cobblestones. The alley was tight, the walls so close together that Mei had to suck in her shoulders just to fit. But Umi was already gone, her feet barely touching the ground as she leapt onto a crate, propelling herself upward with fluid grace. Mei’s eyes widened as Nagisa bounded up the alley walls, using them like stepping stones until she reached the rooftop. In one smooth motion, she climbed to the edge and looked down.
“Keep up, Mei,” Nagisa said, her voice carrying lightly but firmly.
Mei swallowed hard, her stomach tight with apprehension. I can’t do this. The thought flared up, and for a moment, she almost turned back. Scaling a wall? She wasn’t agile like her master. She had never been good at this kind of acrobatics. But then, Nagisa’s words lingered in her mind—Keep up.
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Taking a deep breath, Mei sprinted toward the crate. Her feet hit the wood harder than she intended, and for a heartbeat, she felt the panic rise. But she shoved it down and leapt. Her fingers scraped the windowsill, and she kicked off the opposite wall. It felt clumsy, awkward even, but she reached for the rooftop again, pushing herself until, with a final surge of effort, she hauled herself over the edge.
She collapsed onto the roof, gasping for air. Nagisa was already sitting cross-legged, her back straight, her eyes closed as though she hadn’t just made that impossible leap. Mei sat beside her, feeling the weight of her exhaustion.
They sat in silence for a few moments, the hum of the city below them slowly filling the quiet. Mei stared at her hands, still trembling from the climb, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.
“Seito Mei,” Nagisa said, her voice soft but clear. Mei turned to her master, finding her gaze serious but not unkind. “Tell me—what do you think is your purpose in this life?”
The question caught Mei off guard. Her eyes dropped to her feet, the worn leather sandals that had carried her through countless lessons and now, this climb. She opened her mouth, but no answer came. “Master… I’m not sure,” she murmured, feeling the weight of the words in her chest.
Nagisa didn’t rush to fill the silence. She regarded her student with a calm, steady gaze, her expression unreadable. “That is the question, isn’t it?” she said at last. “It’s one that many spend their whole lives searching for. Some will never find it.”
Mei’s thoughts swirled, the pressure of the question weighing on her. Purpose. The word lingered in the air between them, a riddle she wasn’t sure she was ready to solve. She felt small, uncertain. How am I supposed to know?
Nagisa opened her eyes, and for the first time, Mei saw something softer in them—a flicker of understanding, a hint of empathy. But it was gone almost as soon as it appeared. “You’ll find it, Mei. Or you won’t. But you must keep looking.” There was a finality in her tone, a subtle promise that she would be there to guide her no matter how long it took.
The quiet was broken when Nagisa stood, stretching her arms overhead in a fluid motion. Her eyes flicked over to Mei. “That’s enough rest for now. Let’s move.”
Before Mei could even process the words, Nagisa had stepped to the edge of the rooftop, her body tensing in preparation. With one effortless leap, she jumped to the building across the way, landing lightly on the opposite rooftop. She turned back to Mei, her gaze steady, but there was the faintest glint of a challenge in her eyes.
“Don’t fall behind,” Nagisa called. “And be careful this time. I’d rather not have to patch you up.”
Mei watched as her master stood tall on the edge of the other building, her confidence radiating from her. She took a deep breath and rose to her feet, the tension in her body clear but manageable. Mei stood at the precipice, looking out over the city. For a moment, the noise of Ei’en faded, and all that remained was the challenge before her.
She steadied herself. I have to keep up.
With a focused breath, she jumped.