While he has been enrolled since his birth in Darkeas, the school of supervillains, Uchiri Nanaya ends up by mistake in Aitori ... the school of the Magical Girls.
A break was imposed after the recent events. The atmosphere remained heavy, marked by general concern. In the locker room, Phen-X busied himself around Kenji, forcing him to swallow a sedative while lighting an incense stick with soothing aromas. A light, sweet, and woody scent slowly spread through the room, attempting to calm frayed nerves. Kenji, lying on a bench, still trembled slightly despite his sleep, his shoulders tense, his breathing irregular.
Nanaya, on the other hand, had retreated to a corner, preferring to stay out of the way. His head pounded to the rhythm of an icy hammer relentlessly striking his skull, but no one noticed, and that was for the best. All attention was focused on Kenji, and Nanaya preferred it that way. He didn't want his friends to worry about him. He wanted to be strong, unwavering... but for a brief moment, his vision blurred. A dark veil seemed to cover his field of vision, making the world distant, indistinct. He clenched his fists, shaking off the sensation, refusing to give it more importance than it deserved.
Finally, after a longer break than expected, it was time to resume. The arena was once again illuminated, and the spectators, though less noisy than before, took their seats. The tournament's final battle pitted Nanaya against Ichirō.
Ichirō stepped forward confidently, a smug smile fixed on his lips. He surveyed the arena with that arrogant gleam in his eyes, certain of his superiority. He wanted to assert his dominance, to prove once and for all that he was the best. Nanaya, for his part, walked toward the arena with silent determination. However, as he approached, his foot slipped slightly on the floor. He caught himself against the corridor wall, one hand clenched against the cold surface. Hyokko, fluttering nearby, stopped immediately, watching him with concern.
"Nana-chan... are you sure you're okay?"
He lifted his head and offered a smile he hoped was convincing.
"I'm fine."
Hyokko hesitated but finally nodded. Nanaya straightened up, took a deep breath, and, in a flash of light, transformed into Frosty Kitty. His light blue outfit shimmered under the spotlights. However, his ears remained flattened against his head, and his tail twitched nervously. It should have been an obvious sign, but no one paid attention. It was easy to attribute his behavior to pre-battle nerves or lingering worry over Kenji's condition.
The arena seemed to shrink before his eyes. The world moved differently—slower, heavier. Ichirō, ever the provocateur, threw a sarcastic remark at him, laced with inappropriate flirtation. But the words didn't reach Nanaya. The sound was distorted, buzzing in his ears. His vision blurred even more. He blinked, trying to regain his focus, but the effect intensified. The ground beneath his feet seemed to ripple, the air grew thick, every noise muffled, distant. He tried to concentrate on Amaretto, who was about to blow the whistle to start the match. He wanted to move, to prepare... but before the sound even reached him, everything went black.
From an outsider's perspective, the scene was abrupt and sudden. Nanaya collapsed, his body crumpling onto the ground with a dull thud. His magical boy form vanished instantly, replaced by his sports uniform. Hyokko panicked, frantically flitting around him, calling out desperately.
Amaretto, about to signal the start, immediately dropped his whistle and rushed to Nanaya. The moment he placed a hand on his forehead, he froze.
"He's burning up with fever!" he exclaimed.
Across the arena, Ichirō remained motionless. His expression shifted from confusion to worry, then to a simmering anger. He clenched his fists, trembling slightly with frustration. Again. Another damn victory that wasn't even a real win. He didn't want to win like this. He wanted a real fight, a well-earned ovation, not an empty, meaningless victory.
In the announcer's booth, Nakamara abruptly stood up. His microphone fell to the floor with a metallic clang, echoing through the hall. He didn't waste a second and bolted out of the room, running at full speed toward the arena.
In the lounge, Mineko, still by Kenji's side, watched the screens with growing anxiety. Her heartbeat quickened as she saw Nanaya on the ground. Kenji, finally awake and still groggy from the sedative, caught sight of her expression and turned his gaze toward the monitors. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
Phen-X suddenly straightened.
"Look after Kenji!" he ordered Mineko and Rena before dashing off.
On the battlefield, Kōtarō had already used his super-speed to reach Nanaya, kneeling beside him.
"Nana-chan!" His voice trembled with panic, unable to mask his fear.
Phen-X arrived quickly and knelt as well, pressing an expert hand against Nanaya's forehead. He grimaced.
"High fever... It looks like the flu, or maybe just a cold that got worse. He must have ignored all the symptoms for days and pushed his body too far... as usual."
Kōtarō clenched his fists. "Idiot..." he muttered, teeth gritted.
Nakamara finally arrived, his eyes locked onto his unconscious son. Without hesitation, he lifted Nanaya into his arms, his face unreadable, but the way he held him spoke volumes. Phen-X walked alongside him as they left the arena.
In the booth, Starlight, who had witnessed the entire scene, grabbed the microphone Nakamara had dropped. His voice resonated through the stadium.
"As with the previous match... victory goes to Umeji Ichirō, by forfeit of Uchiri Nanaya."
Murmurs spread through the audience. Ichirō, still standing in the center of the arena, clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white. He abruptly turned on his heel and exited the stage without a word, anger simmering within him once again. This wasn't what he wanted.
He wanted to see Nanaya on the ground after a real fight. Not like this.
He left the arena in silence, his heavy footsteps echoing against the floor, carrying with him a bitter frustration. As he walked down the corridors toward his locker room, he punched the wall with all his strength, his knuckles splitting open. How was he supposed to assert his dominance now? How could he make Nanaya look at him with admiration and finally accept to be his? He had been certain that this tournament would give him the glory he needed to catch his love's attention, but now, he had to return to America, and he might never get the chance to see him again.
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