IS and Sekire Brave New World: Rewrite

by Kerlongsj Evert Orlejov

An idea that I got from a Discord Server and that I couldn't let go. Let's see how far this goes and what we'll get ourselves into. It's the same story as the original. When Ichika gets sent to the ISA, a message from an old friend rekindles an old friendship, and the paths of different pasts, lead to a brighter future. But the present is going to be one rocky ride.

11. For the Greater Good of God AI

Good day, everyone. It's been a while since I started working on this chapter. I got busy after the previous workaround, chapter 15, so it took me a while before I went back to it.

This was written four years ago, at the start of the coronavirus crisis. I don't reminisce about those days, as that was the start of something worse.

The plot came from the requester of this fic.

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Are you a man of peace

Or a man of holy war

Too many sides to you

Don't know which anymore

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Started on 28/03/2020

Ended on 09/04/2020

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When Ichika said he was going fishing, he meant it. During the year Chifuyu was away in Germany, he picked up the hobby from an older man.

The man was undoubtedly a foreigner, but that old Russian sage knew how to catch and prepare fish as if it were second nature. Ichika missed him. He passed away shortly after Chifuyu returned. A disease claimed his life—an ironic end for a man who had survived a lifetime of war only to seek a peaceful retirement.

Yet, his skills and wisdom were preserved on Ichika, who had come to appreciate them. With his fishing rod cast into the water, Ichika stared at it, reveling in the serenity.

He recalled the older man's wisdom: life could be dedicated to destruction—the Infinite Stratos was a prime example—or it could be wielded for defense, as the older man had taught him.

Ichika was never thoroughly captivated by the songs the man often sang, but now, fragments of those melodies returned to him, resonating with his current state of mind.

They seemed fitting now as he contemplated seeking advice from either Minato or Chifuyu—perhaps Minato, who would understand their deeper meaning.

Please tell me now what life is

Please tell me now what love is

Well, tell me now what war is

Again, tell me what life is

These were the right questions, but Ichika found he didn't dwell on them too much. Now, as he gazed at the fishing rod, a smirk crossed his face.

This tranquility, this moment of peace, was precisely what he needed. His mind wandered back to those days—the older man was, next to Minato, the closest thing he had to a father figure.

He reminisced about the sweltering days spent in their company.

Scene skip. Flashback requested

After completing his shopping, Ichika walked along the riverside, setting aside his bags. He wandered, seeking something undefinable, a means to clear his head and find solace.

That's when he noticed an older man casting a fishing rod into the water, sitting back to watch the fish and the expanse of the sea. Ichika felt an immediate sense of peace near the water; the coolness seemed to soothe the surrounding air.

"And they wanna bite?" he inquired, approaching the fisherman. The man's eyes twinkled as they met Ichika's, who was taken aback by the sight of the man's grey, semi-long hair and the slight beard framing a face that, despite its age, retained a certain sharpness.

Dressed simply in cargo pants and a white T-shirt, the man looked rugged yet composed.

"Well, you can ask them. I don't fish to catch any," the man replied, prompting Ichika to raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"You don't fish to catch fish?" Ichika echoed, curious. The older man gestured invitingly, signaling that he meant no harm with his cryptic statement.

"I fish to clear my head. That's the important thing in this day and age," he explained. Standing beside the man, Ichika felt dwarfed, not just by the man's wisdom but also by his stature.

The man was quickly 190 cm tall, and his build made Ichika seem small in comparison. Yet, in his presence, Ichika felt no threat.

"You wanna learn, kid?" the man offered, handing Ichika a fishing rod and showing him how to bait the hook, which made Ichika cringe slightly.

"What's your name, kiddo? My name is Jorik Shevchenko," the man introduced himself as he cast his line into the water, whistling a tune.

"I'm Ichika. Ichika Orimura," he responded. Jorik raised an eyebrow but pressed no further. "Well, Ichika, let this old man teach you how to fish."

End of the requested flashback

Ichika had spent a lot of time on the riverside. Every time he went there, he sat with Jorik. During those times, he felt more connected to him than to his sister. Ichika took Jorik's wisdom to heart.

It made him think about the concept of a father. One of the last times he spoke to Jorik, the older man told him this.

"Ichika, as a man, it's your duty to give advice that is worth a fuck to the men next to you and behind you. I earned that right. You might find others. Those who don't give good advice to them around them aren't worth the name of men."

Ichika couldn't help but agree with him. In that case, it would make Minato also a man.

The Ashikabi had given good advice to an Infinite Stratos Pilot.

Meanwhile, at the makeshift base, Tabane Shinonono was seething with rage. Ichika's insult was one thing, but being thwarted from showcasing her little sister's grand debut was unforgivable.

The entire class witnessed the Silver Gospel's inglorious embedding in the sand, courtesy of Matsu. The unit was deactivated but lying intact.

Chifuyu was astounded by her brother's influence, not to mention Minato's intervention on his behalf.

The girls could only stare at the inert unit, the realization sinking in: the Silver Gospel was a formidable adversary. Yet, Ichika seemed unfazed by the danger.

He was indifferent to accusations of weakness for relying on a woman to fight his battles, ready to dismiss any critic with a curt directive to leave. After all, in a world without male pilots besides himself, such concerns were trivial.

Ichika's disdain for cowardice was secondary only to his priority for self-preservation.

Tabane, however, was far from forgiving, contemplating retribution until a phone call interrupted her dark musings.

"Who is this?"

"Good evening, Tabane Shinonono," came a voice tinged with malice and intelligence. Tabane, taken aback but not yet defeated, demanded again, "Who is this?" as she paced.

"I believe you've already been introduced to my name through Ichika-tan. I am Matsu, the Wisdom Sekirei, winged by Minato Sahashi. Additionally, I serve as Ichika Orimura's guardian cyber angel. Here's a piece of advice, Tabane: crawl back into whatever hole you emerged from." Tabane scoffed at the audacity. No Sekirei would dictate her actions.

"Why should I?" she retorted, though Matsu's menacing tone unnerved her.

"Because, Tabane Shinonono, you underestimate me. You hacked the Silver Gospel, turning it rogue—a fact I easily uncovered. Had I been under time pressure or without my Ashikabi's support, you might have succeeded. But I won't burden Ichika-tan with this revelation. It's enough that you know I'm aware. Consider this a warning: pursue Ichika further, and Chifuyu Orimura will learn of your deeds. With only a ten percent chance of his survival, imagine her reaction. She won't hesitate to destroy you. So run, bitch. Run like the coward you are."

For the first time in a decade, Tabane was speechless. Never before had she been addressed with such disrespect—not by Chifuyu or Houki, whose cold words she had always interpreted as affectionate.

Matsu's threat left her reeling, but she knew the Sekirei spoke the truth. With the ability to expose her interference with the Silver Gospel, Matsu held the power.

Reluctantly following Matsu's directive, Tabane retreated, her pride wounded but her resolve unbroken. She vowed to retaliate against Minato Sahashi, cursing the man and his "fucking hussies of goddamned superpowered aliens."

Scene skip. Back in Shinto Teito

Matsu sighed but felt Minato's loving kiss on her lips and a deep hug from him. Not protesting, her mouth slipped open as she could feel his tongue moving in and dragging out the kiss. His hands wandered around while hers pressed at his head, playing with his hair.

She enjoyed and warmed up to his body. Playing tongue tennis, they both felt ecstatic. Unfortunately, she couldn't feel any reaction from down below. She knew why that could be. Either he'd grown used to it, but that was most likely not the case, or he was just too tired from the last weekend.

She hadn't imagined that Uzume and Chiho had worn him out so much. Letting him go, she smiled at Minato. He blushed, but he grinned back at her. They were rubbing off more on him.

"So Mina-tan. Is there any reason why you gave a little old me such a kiss?" Minato pecked her cheek while he lay closer to her.

"You're never sexier when you're worked up. It's nice to see my Sekirei like that." She smiled and wrapped an arm around him.

"Are you sure you don't want to tell Ichika-tan?" Matsu wanted to tell Ichika what Tabane did but found that Minato was against it. He didn't wish Ichika to know, as it would open a can of worms.

Shaking his head, he hugged her. "It'd cause too much disturbance. It was nice to see you chasing off that rabbit. Thank you, Matsu." She smiled at him and got closer to him.

"Neh, Mina-tan. Can I ask for a thank you?" Minato blanched. He had just gotten home from the weekend, and he was tired of it. Sure, he loved Matsu like the other girls, but he had his fill for now.

"No fair, Matsu. I also want it." Turning around, he saw Musubi, who pulled up the room. Tsukiumi followed with her eternal rival while Kazehana pouted. Kagari also stood back and looked at it. While she and Musubi were the last ones who had a fun night with Minato, she could feel how much she wanted it.

It was clear that the girls were sexually frustrated despite his best attempts. Minato wanted to defuse and keep things off while Uzume and Chiho passed by.

"What is this? We're going again?" Uzume asked while Chiho shook her head. Down there, she needed some time to rest. Going again on Minato wasn't something she wanted right now. Luckily for Minato, a demonic visage filled the room, and for the first time, Minato was somewhat happy that Miya passed by.

"Enough. There will be no discussion of inappropriate subjects in my house." Miya's firm declaration quelled the chatter among the Sekirei, though it was clear they were also eager for dinner before any potential ban. Suddenly, a warm hand encircled Miya's waist, drawing a blush to her cheeks as Takehito offered a gentle smile to the group.

"Girls, let's remember Minato could use some rest. We're all human here, after all. Plus, the weather forecast predicts an early heatwave in the coming days, with temperatures soaring to forty degrees." A collective gulp resonated through the room at the thought.

"I doubt any of you would enjoy returning home, sleep-deprived after a long night, especially in such weather. Let's take it easy, allowing Minato some time to recuperate." Grateful for the intervention, Minato harbored a few thoughts of his own.

"So, to make up for it, who wants to go?"

"Me!" The eager voices of Matsu, Kazehana, Uzume, Musubi, and Chiho filled the air, their enthusiasm hardly surprising. Kagari and Tsukiumi, joining the fray, added to the animated scene.

"Yeah, I want to join! It's been too long since I've had fun!" Kagari's face turned a deep shade of red, matched by Tsukiumi's blush.

"My husband has been neglecting his duties towards me. I will not let that stand." Minato felt a twist of embarrassment and excitement; managing seven spirited girls was daunting.

"It's not fair. I also want to join Big Brother in his fun." The last voice belonged to Kusano, who had found a spot in Minato's lap, prompting a collective sigh from the Ashikabi and his Sekirei.

"No, Ku-chan," they gently refused.

Her pout was immediate. Being excluded was one thing, but outright rejection was another.

"Why not?"

"Kusano." Minato's use of her full name, a rarity, captured her full attention. "You're still very young, much as you might dislike admitting it. It would be wrong on so many levels to include you in such activities."

She glared at how much she could while pouting at Minato. "So, how long do I have to wait before Big Brother carries me to his bed?"

At his turn, the Ashikabi glared at the rest of his girls. "I would like to know who used those terms. Didn't we all agree that the words derogatory weren't used in the presence of Kusano?"

The two eldest, plus a double-digit, both whistled an innocent tune. Looking back at them and Kusano, he stood up and took the girl under his arm.

"We need to have a long talk, Kusano. So that means that none of you are sleeping in my room tonight." A jolt went between the girls as now four girls glared at the three. Minato took Kusano under his arm.

He never used physical violence as he loathed the punishment that his grandfather and mother laid out for him. It would also be unfitting as seven out of the eight women he loved were all mature and full-grown. Kusano stood out as she was just eight years old.

Sure, he was married to her in Sekirei custom, but for now, he kept her from bedding him. He also didn't like the fact that Kusano used those kinds of words. So he would have a long and stern talk with the pint-sized girl about how it was not okay for a girl of her age to use those words.

Takehito just shook his head but signaled with his eyes that his wife had to come with him for a bit. Miya found that she indeed needed to come along with her husband.

Stepping outside, Takehito and Miya found themselves in the privacy of their room. "I hope you haven't brought me here under the pretense of amusement," Miya said, a hint of jest in her voice. Over time, she had found more nuanced ways to connect with her husband, shedding her prudish exterior while upholding her moral principles.

The seriousness in Takehito's eyes, however, signaled a departure from lighter topics. "I assume this must be quite significant to pull me aside. What weighs on your mind, Takehito?"

He hesitated, the muscles in his jaw working as he gathered his thoughts before meeting his wife's gaze. "Miya, there's something I need to disclose. It concerns Chifuyu."

When Takehito mentioned her perceived rival, a flash of a negative feeling lit Miya's eyes, prompting him to clarify quickly: "It's not what you think, Miya. This relates to the past. I encountered Chifuyu Orimura following an incident on the island."

As Miya seated herself, signaling him to proceed, Takehito continued, "By some twist of fate or misfortune, I found myself in a teaching role—not just for her but for another as well. I believe you know whom I'm referring to."

"Tabane Shinonono," Miya interjected, her intelligence piercing through the situation. "This must be related to today's events." A sardonic smile touched Takehito's lips in acknowledgment.

"Indeed, my dear. If you think Matsu's genius is formidable, Tabane is in a league of her own—a veritable Armageddon. And, regrettably, she harbors a profound hostility towards me."

Takehito leaned back, his mind wandering back eight years. Though perhaps not more accessible, those days felt more straightforward in retrospect.

Flashback.

For some, high school marks the beginning of everything. For Takehito, it was a period of part-time teaching, a welcome distraction from the complexities of the Sekirei Plan.

Recently married, he and Miya, now Miya Asama, were still adjusting to life together.

While Seo, that unavoidable presence, had managed to impart some practical skills to Miya, her prowess in combat was unmatched by her near-disastrous attempts at domesticity. Cooking, cleaning, maintaining a home—these were battles she had yet to win.

In the classroom, Takehito faced a different kind of challenge: a sea of sixteen-year-old girls, their attention fixed on him rather than the intricacies of biology and chemistry he attempted to convey.

He could handle the subject matter with ease, but the role of a teacher left him longing for the simplicity of his primary profession.

The boys, with their boundless energy and straightforward respect, presented a stark contrast. They were manageable; a firm hand and a clear direction often sufficed to maintain order.

The girls, however, operated on a different frequency. Giggles, whispers, and passed notes were familiar, their appreciation for a young male teacher hardly subtle. Yet, Takehito's heart was firmly anchored at home with Miya.

Amid the classroom dynamics, one student stood out to him: Chifuyu Orimura. Her long, black hair and slender physique belied a life shaped by conflict, a fact immediately apparent to Takehito.

It was in her eyes, though—those windows to the soul—that he read her true nature. Brutal, possibly admiring, and unmistakably familiar.

Next to her was another notable presence: Tabane Shinonono. A world-class genius whose reputation preceded her, Tabane's vivacious demeanor did little to mask the challenges that Takehito foresaw in dealing with her.

Like Minaka, Tabane possessed a brilliant mind that, in Takehito's experience, often came with a disdain for the mundane aspects of human existence.

Their eyes told their stories—Chifuyu's resilience and Tabane's detached brilliance.

Yet, as Takehito navigated the complexities of his dual roles as educator and observer, a giggle from the classroom brought him back to the immediate task at hand. With a determined stride, he approached a group of girls, ready to address the disruption.

"My, Raoki-san, is there something more captivating than my lecture?" Takehito inquired, his tone even, as he regarded the girl with dyed blond hair and prominent earrings—a look that suggested more about her attitude than her potential.

He was not one to pass judgment based solely on appearance, but in this case, her demeanor seemed to align perfectly with her style.

She responded with a mischievous giggle, "Yes, sensei. Our attention was drawn elsewhere, finding something far more intriguing. Your cute butt." At her words, a brief twitch passed over Takehito's eyes, but it quickly sparked an inspired response.

"Is that so? In that case, I have a special task for you and your three associates. Write 'I should concentrate on my teacher's instruction, not his cute butt' a thousand times in kanji. Have it signed by your parents, and know this: the assignment's length will quadruple with any repetition of this behavior."

The threat elicited a collective gulp from the group, effectively silencing them as Takehito returned to his position at the front of the class.

Chifuyu, observing the exchange, offered Takehito a look of silent thanks, which he acknowledged with a nod before continuing the lesson. As the bell signaled the end of the session, he promptly began to pack his things, known among the students for his efficiency at the start and end of each class.

As the room emptied in a disciplined manner, Chifuyu remained. "Is there an issue, Orimura-san?" Takehito asked, noticing her hesitation.

"No, sensei," she began, her gaze fixed on him. "You handled Raoki well. It was becoming bothersome." Approaching her, Takehito gently tapped her on the head with a book in a playful reprimand.

"You're welcome. Consider it a lesson for them. But tell me, Orimura, what keeps you here after hours?"

Takehito observed Chifuyu, her cheeks a deep shade of red and her movements uneasy. It was a rare sight to see her so visibly flustered, and it left him feeling unsure.

She met his gaze briefly before shaking her head. "No, sensei. Nothing's amiss. I'll see you tomorrow."

With those words, she hurried out of the classroom, leaving Takehito alone with his thoughts. He couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity when he looked into her eyes, though he couldn't pinpoint where he had seen them before.

Meanwhile, Chifuyu dashed through the hallways, her mind a whirl of confusion and her cheeks still warm. Her haste was interrupted by an unexpected touch, one that could only belong to a single, daring individual.

Whirling around, she found herself face-to-face with Tabane Shinonono, whose pout was met with a fierce glare. "Mouh, Chi-chan, are you avoiding me? How could you treat your true love this way?" Chifuyu's patience snapped, and she rebuffed Tabane with a quick strike.

"Enough, Tabane." Undeterred, Tabane bounced back to her feet, her smile unwavering.

"Just a little longer. I'm certain I can win your heart." Chifuyu exhaled a weary sigh and departed, leaving Tabane alone in the hallway, contemplating the unusual reaction she had provoked.

"Neh, Chi-chan. Is something wrong?" The woman shook her head.

"I don't think so." She was quiet. Even more than average. It was uncommon to see Chifuyu like that. Usually, she had a scrape around her. Ichika once put it like his sister was a katana that could cut all those around her. She was sure that this was the case now.

Tabane was determined to unravel the enigma surrounding Chifuyu's recent change in demeanor. Yet, the answers seemed as elusive as deciphering the look on Chifuyu's face—or rather, the tumult of thoughts swirling within her head.

Since the day Takehito arrived at the school, Chifuyu has been inexplicably drawn to him, and her perceptions of men—typically seen as weaker counterparts—have been challenged.

Takehito, though physically unimposing and likely no match for her strength, possessed a different kind of might.

His intellect and approach to handling situations set him apart. Within the school's corridors, whispers circulated about the boys' unanimous respect for him, an admiration that Chifuyu found herself sharing.

His confidence, methodical teaching style, and imperviousness to his female students' flirtations marked him as extraordinary.

Despite the age gap that placed him a decade or so her senior, Chifuyu felt an undeniable attraction, a sense of warmth and pull towards him that she couldn't quite understand. Could it be that Takehito harbored a soft spot for her as well?

Ichika, her brother, remained oblivious to the inner turmoil that had overtaken Chifuyu. Her appetite had waned.

Her usual combative spirit seemed tempered, replaced by a quiet introspection. She scarcely responded to queries, her attention diverted, her thoughts lingering on Takehito even as life continued around her.

In contrast, Takehito's evenings were marked by simplicity and domestic harmony. At home, he savored the meals prepared by Miya, who had taken culinary lessons to heart and emerged a proficient cook, a silver lining to Seo's otherwise questionable influence.

Their dinners, shared in peaceful silence, offered a stark contrast to the storm of emotions and questions brewing within Chifuyu's mind.

The next day.

When Takehito reached the school earlier than his usual time, he had 45 minutes before classes began. While many teachers retreated to the staff room during this pre-class period, Takehito chose to head to his classroom.

He preferred to be there as the students arrived, allowing the room to fill with energy and chatter before officially starting the lesson. As he waited, lost in thought and anticipating the notes he would receive from Raoki, an unexpected collision occurred.

Takehito steadied himself, ensuring both he and the other person remained upright. "Whoops, sorry about that," he apologized, looking down to discover familiar amber eyes set within a frame of raven hair. "Orimura?" he inquired, slightly surprised.

Chifuyu, on her part, looked up at him, her presence as still as a sandbar. It seemed as though she was seeking comfort in their accidental closeness, yet her stillness suggested otherwise. "Eh, Orimura?" Takehito repeated, noting the flush that crept over her cheeks.

Chifuyu's expression held an undeniable charm, her vulnerability at that moment making her seem endearingly adorable. Takehito couldn't fathom why she was looking at him that way, and before he could voice another word, Chifuyu turned and hurried away.

This behavior was uncharacteristic of the Chifuyu Takehito knew. She was sharp-minded, physically strong, and resilient, able to stand firm even against Tabane.

Takehito admired Chifuyu for her straightforwardness; she was neither prone to unwelcome advances nor petty insults, unlike some of her peers. She was intelligent without arrogance, a stark contrast to Tabane's vanity and self-centeredness.

Observing Chifuyu, Takehito could not help but appreciate her well-rounded capabilities and mature demeanor, which he recognized as purely an observation of her growth and development.

Yet, beneath her formidable exterior, he sensed a vulnerability, a hint of fear that she harbored within. This aspect of Chifuyu reminded Takehito of Miya, who carried a similar aura of concealed apprehension.

Takehito found himself wishing for someone who could provide Chifuyu with the support and understanding she needed.

While he could offer his guidance to an extent, he believed that a peer, someone of her age, would be more suitable. Tabane, with her divergent priorities, was certainly not the right candidate for this role.

In a parallel universe

A blade clashed against a katana, igniting a fierce struggle. At the age of fifteen, Chifuyu Orimura found herself locked in the gaze of a young man. Hooded and clad in a sweater, his stance was pivotal. Unlike most, he effortlessly dodged the sword; their strengths seemingly matched.

A grin broke across his face. With a swift jump back, Chifuyu broke their deadlock, inadvertently causing his hood to fall away.

She took a moment to study her adversary: hair that blended blond and brown cascaded to his shoulders, and his grey eyes locked with her brown ones. The moment the blade disengaged, it appeared as though he wielded his knives as extensions of his own hands.

The young man returned her gaze with a smirk, adjusting his stance as Chifuyu raised her katana in defiance. He casually pulled his hoodie over his head again, though his eyes still gleamed with anticipation.

"Looks like I'm in luck. I was hoping to encounter the Undefeated Rider or the Western Satan," he taunted, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Grandpa and brother," Chifuyu retorted, her voice tinged with amusement. "Good luck with that, sweetheart. You wouldn't stand a chance against them. Besides, isn't it more enjoyable to mingle with those your age?"

As she poised herself for another strike, Chifuyu was suddenly not alone.

Six women converged around her, joining her stance against the young man. Both he and Chifuyu glanced at the newcomers with a shared annoyance. Despite the interruption, their mutual understanding was unmistakable—a silent agreement that their duel was far from over.

"Didn't I tell you that this one is mine?"

"Fuck off."

"Like we listen to you."

"We want our fun."

"..."

"Time to rip that bastard to shreds. And you once we're done."

The guy took a step back, sizing up the six newcomers. Facing one girl was a challenge he felt confident in, but confronting the entire cohort of Prodigies was a different story entirely. It spelled sure overkill.

The odds stacked against him, and his blades slid from beneath his wrists once more, a silent vow to not go down without a fight. However, a sense of calm enveloped him as he sensed reinforcements encircling them.

Emerging from the shadows, four men rallied around their embattled friend. One brandished a sword, another casually rested a bardiche on his shoulder, and a third menacingly pumped a shotgun.

In stark contrast to the girls, their demeanor towards the young man was tinged with camaraderie.

"Looks like you got yourself in a hassle, Kerlongsj."

"Did you really think we'd run?"

"Forget that."

"We've been in the thick of it together; we're not about to leave you hanging now."

A grin split the boy's face, and his spirits lifted. "Thanks, lads." Cracking his knuckles, a palpable energy radiated from him, his smirk widening.

"Looks like we can continue our match." Chifuyu's gaze hardened. "Oh, really? And what makes you think you can defeat us?" she challenged.

The youngest among them met her stare, smirk unflinching. "It takes just one of us to bring all of you down. But most importantly," he paused, a formidable aura enveloping them, a monstrous silhouette manifesting behind.

"When you mess with one of us, you face us all. It would have been best if you hadn't come here, Chifuyu, not after what happened back at your place."

Chifuyu's expression softened, a mix of admiration and challenge lighting her eyes. "What can I say, Kerlongsj? You got me hooked during our last fight. I've never met anyone who wasn't afraid to die yet managed to keep me alive."

This revision aims to keep the raw energy and dialogue intact while smoothing out.

Kerlongsj's action, spitting on the ground, was a stark prelude to the smirk that curled upon his lips, a blend of defiance and dark humor.

"Brother, I hope we don't get hung up on that bad breakup you had," he quipped, a remark that elicited chuckles from his companions, even as a faint blush tinged his cheeks.

Amid the laughter, a sobering thought permeated the group—the realization that this confrontation could very well mark their final moments.

Yet, in the face of such daunting prospects, a serene acceptance enveloped them. It was a moment of clarity amidst chaos, a peace found in the acceptance of their potential last stand.

The Prodigies, with eyes, narrowed and focus unwavering, regarded Kerlongsj, who seemed eager, almost itching for the impending clash.

"Ever heard this one? No species lasts forever." His words, laced with a hint of finality, set the stage for what was to come. In an instant, the two factions surged towards each other, a tumultuous collision imminent as Kerlongsj's blades once again sought the steel of Chifuyu's katana.

"I missed this," Kerlongsj admitted amidst the fray, a sentiment echoed by Chifuyu's response.

"It's a good thing I wasn't alone in that." Her words, a mixture of combat readiness and a strange kind of camaraderie, underscored a battle not just of bodies but of wills and spirits intertwined by fate and circumstance.

In another realm of conflict and survival, a young man effortlessly dodged an incoming sword strike, a maneuver that seemed second nature to him. The Devil's Brigade, a name that resonated with loyalty and ferocity, would not stand idly by and watch one of their own, Kerlongsj, meet his demise. For Azalof, however, the situation presented not just a battle for survival but a personal vendetta.

Surveying the ensemble of five women and one man before him, Azalof's countenance bore no trace of amusement. With a swift motion, he yanked a poisoned dagger from his flesh, his gaze hardening as he faced his adversaries. "You need something tougher to kill me," he declared as nanites swiftly went to work, knitting his wounds back together.

Despite their armies being decimated, the real victory lay in decapitating the serpent — a task that Matthijs was out there accomplishing, seeking to end the legacy of their foes by targeting their progenitors.

Azalof's eyes lifted to meet Izanagi's. "I was surprised you survived," he stated flatly, contempt evident as he spat on the ground.

"You're all completely and complexly fucked up," he sneered, dodging a sword strike from the eldest and retaliating with a swift knife cut.

"And why is that?" inquired the golden-haired woman, seeking clarification.

Azalof shook his head; his disdain was palpable. "I don't know much about childbirth, but from what I gather, it's hardly a joyous affair. Yet, here all of you are..." His voice trailed off, laden with confusion and scorn.

"If you despise your offspring so, why bring them into this world at all?"

Izanagi raised his sword, an air of fatalism surrounding him. "It's just our way. Not like you'd understand. There's nowhere for you to run."

"Father and son, fall one by one," Azalof retorted with a grimace. "Every species has its means of reproduction. For humanity, it involves nurturing one's young. How your daughters and how you have survived is beyond me. But what I do know is that you're unlikely to witness the unfolding truth."

"You think you love your failures?"

That was a challenge for Azalof as he released a warning blast toward the youngest woman.

"I'm going to kill you all. Mark my words."

"How? We thought we broke you," she replied, defiance in her voice.

"Izanagi, you believed you had killed Anaton. You were mistaken. Matthijs has revived him. And now, that elder is safeguarding Anaton. In the end, aren't we all just chasing shadows?"

Their dynasty was crumbling.

As the generational clash unfolded, Anaton remained a silent observer, watching the older men, both well into their sixties, engage in a battle that seemed beneath them. He chose not to intervene, merely to witness. He had seen the culmination of his grandfather's, father's, and brother's ambitions.

The air was charged with tension and the weight of history as Matthijs and Tatsuya faced off, their past and potential futures colliding in the present moment. Once, there had been a chance that they all might witness the outcome together, but now only the youngest held onto that wish.

Matthijs, arms crossed, broke his stance as Tatsuya emerged. "Matthijs," Tatsuya greeted, his tone neutral yet heavy with unspoken narratives.

"Tatsuya." Matthijs scanned the area, noting Miyuki's absence. "Didn't bring her along," he observed as Tatsuya unsheathed his sword and Matthijs revealed two knives.

"You got new ones? I thought you'd stick to one pair," Tatsuya remarked, curiosity piqued amidst the brewing storm.

Matthijs shrugged his gesture, a mixture of resignation and readiness. "It's better this way. My old ones wouldn't stand a chance against you. And... thank you for leaving Miyuki and Shihana out of this."

Tatsuya's glare intensified, cutting through the brief moment of gratitude. "Don't be mistaken. I didn't bring them because they weren't necessary," he retorted, the implication clear and sharp.

Matthijs offered a sardonic grin. "Really? Forty years ago, the only reason I spared you was Miyuki. Hard to resist a girl like her, indeed."

The mention of Miyuki ignited a silent fury in Tatsuya, even as Reiki surged between them, the Nanites clashing with ferocity. "Still bitter that my sister chose me?"

Matthijs shrugged at the comment from Tatsuya, his nonchalance a stark contrast to the tension.

"Perhaps. Or perhaps not," Matthijs continued, invoking Kerlongsj's wisdom about the futility of dwelling on hypotheticals. "But if I had married your sister, the outcome might have been very different."

Tatsuya's anger flared, and he launched himself at Matthijs, the impact resonating throughout the vicinity. Anaton, observing from a distance, turned away from the brutal exchange, only to find Matthijs yawning, effortlessly holding Tatsuya at bay.

"You've gotten rusty. I expected more, brother," Matthijs taunted, finally acknowledging the gravity of their confrontation.

"Looks like you've still got some tricks," he conceded, the term "brother" now a relic of a once-possible camaraderie.

"Tragic. Two men who could have been allies are now divided. Fighting over what? The world?" Matthijs mused, reflecting on the futility of their conflict.

"What will become of Miyuki if I fall?" Tatsuya challenged, seeking a glimpse into Matthijs's intentions.

Matthijs shook his head, his resolve unwavering. "It ends only two ways: either my family or yours faces extinction. And if we prevail, Miyuki's fate is sealed. This is the End of an Era."

End of the flashback

Takehito, in an effort to shake off his lingering thoughts, made his way to the classroom.

To his surprise, Chifuyu Orimura was already there, seated and ostensibly focused on anything but him.

Despite her efforts to appear disinterested, Takehito caught her stealing glances in his direction. Choosing not to call attention to her evident discomfort, he sat down and unfolded his newspaper, immersing himself in the quiet morning ritual.

The silent exchange between them was filled with unspoken words as Chifuyu's cheeks bloomed a vivid red, betraying her attempts at indifference.

As time passed, the classroom slowly came to life with the arrival of other students, and Takehito transitioned from the morning's tranquility to the day's educational duties.

Tabane, ever the outlier in matters of focus and convention, found her attention inexplicably drawn not to the lesson at hand but to Chifuyu.

Despite her usual disinterest in classroom proceedings, Tabane sensed a shift in her friend's demeanor. Chifuyu, typically detached from the distractions of adolescent fancy, seemed unusually preoccupied, her mind wandering far from the pages of her textbook.

Tabane's moment of clarity arrived when Chifuyu, summoned to the board by Takehito, displayed her usual brilliance in resolving the presented problem.

The acknowledgment she received from Takehito—a simple thumbs up—elicited a reaction from Chifuyu that was anything but typical. Her face flushed a deep red once more, a clear sign to Tabane that her friend was grappling with an internal turmoil beyond the ordinary.

Tabane's realization that Chifuyu was behaving uncharacteristically sparked a resolve to uncover the root of her friend's distraction.

It was evident to her that Chifuyu's attention had shifted, and her thoughts were no longer solely occupied by academic excellence or even her storied friendship with Tabane. Determined to understand the change, Tabane vowed to delve deeper into the mystery surrounding Chifuyu's recent behavior, unaware of the complex emotions at play within her friend.

For Chifuyu, the confusion was palpable. Even she could not articulate the flurry of feelings that stirred within her whenever Takehito was near.

Each interaction, as mundane as a nod of approval, left her cheeks tinged with red, a physical manifestation of her inner turmoil.

"Orimura, are you okay?" Takehito's inquiry was met with averted eyes; Chifuyu's cheeks flushed red, prompting a ripple of snickers across the classroom.

"Maybe she needs to go to the nurse's room." The comment from Raoki-san earned her a sharp glance from Takehito, silencing the murmurs.

"Raoki, mind your own business. And for the record, I am also trained as medical personnel." Chifuyu's gratitude was palpable, evident in her gaze towards Takehito, who was appreciative of her intervention.

"Orimura, if you permit?" His request, though unclear, was met with a tentative nod from Chifuyu, her curiosity piqued. As Takehito's hand made contact with her forehead, checking for a fever, the unfamiliarity of the gesture caused her to feel unexpectedly warm.

"You feel a bit warm?" he observed, turning his attention fully to her well-being and momentarily transforming from teacher to caregiver.

"Orimura, have you been eating properly?" Chifuyu nodded, her voice momentarily lost to her.

"Sleeping alright?" Another silent affirmation from Chifuyu.

"Any problems?" This question caused her gaze to drift away, evading his inquiry. "Orimura-san, how many fingers do I hold up?"

"Three, sensei," she responded, regaining a bit of composure.

"Do you have a headache?" A shake of the head. "Dizzy?" Another denial.

"Nauseous?" he continued, to which Chifuyu shook her head once more.

Tabane, protective and wary, questioned Takehito's qualifications, to which he calmly affirmed his expertise, which was grounded in his research background.

"Shinonono, you might not realize it, but my main job is as a researcher at MBI, so I am familiar with medical assessments. Orimura, I don't believe you're ill, but I'd like to ensure you're completely well. After school, would you mind if I checked on you?"

Takehito's proposal, meant to reassure, only deepened Chifuyu's blush, a vivid display of her burgeoning feelings.

"Sure." Chifuyu's response was soft, her mind wandering into realms of daydreams she had never before entertained.

The day has dragged on, with each tick of the clock stretching longer than the last. Chifuyu found herself counting the minutes until school's end, her anticipation growing.

Takehito, on the other hand, approached the situation with the professionalism of someone who had faced far more daunting tasks than a simple check-up. His experience with super-powered beings gave him a unique perspective on health and well-being.

As Chifuyu entered the nurse's room, Takehito wondered why her flushed demeanor had remained a mystery. At the same time, Chifuyu herself mustered the courage to face whatever this check-up might reveal.

Takehito's approach, characterized by his reassuring smile, had a disarming effect on Chifuyu, easing the walls she had built around her personal life.

Takehito's inquiries were methodical, covering the basics of Chifuyu's health and well-being. Her responses made it clear that she was taking care of herself physically—eating well, sleeping sufficiently, and maintaining her appearance.

But his next question ventured into more intimate territory, a realm that had remained uncharted between teacher and student until now.

"Now, Orimura-san. I have to ask you a personal question. Are you okay with those?" His tone was severe yet gentle.

Sensing the shift, Chifuyu steeled herself for what was to come. The anticipation was almost palpable in the air between them.

"Yes, you may ask, sensei," she replied, her voice steady yet betraying a hint of nervousness.

"Orimura-san, would you mind explaining to me what your home situation is?" The question, though expected, forced Chifuyu to confront the reality of her domestic life—a subject she rarely discussed, especially with someone outside her immediate circle.

"I live together with my brother, Ichika," she began, her response simple yet loaded with unsaid implications. Takehito's reaction, a raised eyebrow, encouraged her to continue, though it also signaled his awareness that there might be more to the story.

"Is your brother older or younger than you?" The seemingly innocuous question was imbued with concern.

Takehito's intuition, a gut feeling that something was amiss, prompted him to probe deeper into Chifuyu's familial circumstances.

It was a delicate dance, one that required navigating the fine line between professional concern and personal intrusion. Yet, he felt compelled to take it, driven by the suspicion that Chifuyu's well-being might extend beyond the physical, touching upon the emotional and psychological realms that are often left unexamined in the hustle of everyday life.

Back in the present day

"So, you asked Chifuyu about her social life?" Miya's tone was laced with a mixture of curiosity and a faint hint of jealousy. Her demeanor betrayed her emotions, making her appear endearingly concerned.

"I asked about her home life. At that time, I had no idea she harbored feelings for me," Takehito explained, his voice carrying a note of innocence, albeit with a slight undertone of mischief that did not go unnoticed by Miya.

"Idiot. Why are men so stupid?" Miya's glare was half-serious, half-playful, a dance of affection and mock frustration that had become a familiar part of their interaction.

"Because we are. And dear, you seem to forget that boys are straightforward. When it comes to humans, I always found boys easier to teach because their emotions and intentions are more transparent,"

Takehito offered his perspective with a gentle shrug, an observation born from years of teaching and guiding young minds.

Miya shook her head, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth despite her efforts to appear exasperated. "Continue, my dear. How did it all end?"

He chuckled, the sound rich with warmth and fond recollection. "End? My dear, that was just the beginning."

Flashback continues.

"Ichika is eight years younger than me, sensei. He is at the elementary school now," Chifuyu's voice held steady, but her expression was an impenetrable facade. The similarity to Miya's stoicism did not escape Takehito.

"Orimura-san, is there anyone else?" Her silent, melancholy shake of the head dashed any hope for a different response.

"May I ask where your parents are?" The question ventured deeper, touching a nerve.

"I am not answering that question." Which was an answer in itself.

"Noted. Orimura, you do realize that you have been taking care of a young boy, your brother, and yourself? That is a heavy burden for a teenager. Please tell me there is someone out there for you."

"The Shinonono family looks after Ichika and me regularly. But they can only do so much." Chifuyu's admission was a window into her world, one that Takehito could not ignore.

"Orimura. Do you mind?" The question was a prelude to an unexpected embrace, a gesture of support that breached the distance between teacher and student. Chifuyu, stronger and fully capable of breaking free, found solace in the embrace instead.

"Sensei."

"It's okay." His interruption was gentle, a reassurance that it was permissible to let down her guard, to be vulnerable.

The moment was transformative for Chifuyu, a release from the constant pressure to be strong. The tears she shed were a testament to the impact of Takehito's words and actions, offering a rare glimpse into her true self beyond the facade of resilience.

The exchange culminated in a spontaneous gesture from Chifuyu, a quick peck on Takehito's cheek, a moment of gratitude that left them both blushing and momentarily lost for words.

The simple act was a profound acknowledgment of the connection they had forged, one that transcended the conventional teacher-student dynamic.

As Takehito touched his cheek, reflecting on the complexity of emotions the encounter had stirred, he realized the depth of their bond.

The day ended with Takehito walking home, a mix of confusion and contemplation marking his steps. The decision to withhold the day's events from Miya was not taken lightly but stemmed from a need to process the intricate web of feelings that Chifuyu's action had woven around him.

"Get a feeling ever so complicated," he mused, a sentiment that captured the essence of the moment—unexpected, profound, and indelibly marked by the complexities of human connection.

He was not going to tell Miya what just happened.

Back to the present time

In the quiet of their shared space, Takehito and Miya navigated the delicate waters of a conversation that, under different circumstances, might have sparked jealousy. Yet, the depth of their understanding and the maturity of their relationship allowed for a discussion marked by introspection rather than contention.

"So, she kissed you on the cheek?" Miya's inquiry, while straightforward, carried layers of unspoken emotions. Takehito's nod was an acknowledgment of the truth and an affirmation of the complexity of the situation.

"That's all she did and all she would ever do. I was surprised as well," Takehito admitted, his voice carrying a hint of reflection.

The kiss, an unexpected gesture from Chifuyu, poignantly symbolized her affection and gratitude for him—a man who had become a beacon of support in her tumultuous life.

Miya sighed, the sound carrying a mixture of relief and understanding. The parallels between her past and Chifuyu's present were not lost on her.

Miya recognized the emotions that drove Chifuyu to express her feelings in such a manner. After all, Miya herself had once been drawn to Takehito, captivated by the qualities that made him uniquely himself.

The realization that Chifuyu, in her vulnerability and admiration, had found a similar attraction to Takehito was not a source of jealousy but rather a reflection of the universal quest for connection and understanding.

Miya's initial reaction, tempered by the rational acknowledgment of what the gesture truly represented, highlighted the strength of her relationship with Takehito. It was a testament to their bond that they could discuss such a sensitive topic with openness and empathy.

The conversation between Takehito and Miya, while centered on Chifuyu's actions, served as a reminder of the deep, abiding love and respect they held for each other.

In acknowledging Chifuyu's feelings, they also reaffirmed their own, navigating the complexities of human emotions with grace and understanding.

This moment of shared reflection was not just about a kiss on the cheek; it was about recognizing the impact they had on those around them and the responsibilities that came with it.

It was about the compassion they shared for a young girl navigating her own heart's tumultuous journey—a journey that mirrored their paths to finding each other.

Back to the past. (See what I did there)

The morning at school unfolded with a semblance of normalcy, yet undercurrents of complex emotions swirled beneath the surface.

Chifuyu, arriving early, found herself once again in Takehito's company.

Their exchange, marked by a mutual smile and a simple greeting, belied the depth of the situation that had unfolded the day before. Takehito, ever mindful of the boundaries that his role as a teacher and a married man imposed, greeted Chifuyu with a warmth that was both genuine and tempered by his awareness of the delicacy of their interaction.

"Asama-sensei. Good morning," Chifuyu greeted, her cheeks tinted with a blush that had yet to fade fully.

"Good morning, Orimura-san," Takehito responded, his grin friendly but measured. It was a silent acknowledgment of the moment they had shared and an unspoken agreement to move past it with grace.

Despite the simplicity of the exchange, both were acutely aware of the boundaries that defined their relationship. Takehito, committed to his wife, Miya, and conscious of his responsibilities as an educator, knew that the affection Chifuyu felt for him could not be reciprocated in the way she might have hoped.

The reality of their circumstances—his marriage, their age difference, and the professional lines that should not be crossed—was ever-present in his mind.

Yet, the complexity of human emotions and the connections that form between people are rarely so easily navigated. Tabane Shinonono, watching from a distance, her aura dark with jealousy and anger, misconstrued the innocent exchange as something more.

Her protective instincts towards Chifuyu, coupled with her possessiveness, painted Takehito as an interloper, a threat to the bond she shared with Chifuyu.

Tabane's mind raced with possibilities, each more drastic than the last. Rumors and accusations—such tactics flickered through her thoughts as viable strategies to reclaim her place as the primary influence in Chifuyu's life.

Yet, she hesitated, aware of the potential repercussions of such actions. The fallout could harm Chifuyu, strain their friendship, or even backfire spectacularly, with Chifuyu or Takehito confronting her directly.

As Takehito and Chifuyu continued their walk into the school, their conversation light and devoid of the tension that had marked their previous interaction, Tabane's turmoil intensified.

The sight of Chifuyu's embarrassed yet friendly demeanor towards Takehito was a bitter pill to swallow. The complexity of the situation—a web of feelings, loyalties, and consequences—loomed large over the participants, each navigating their path through the emotional landscape with care yet uncertain of the destination.

She was biting on her handkerchief while glaring holes at the two who were talking.

Yet, there was not much she could do. Tabane didn't tolerate anyone around Chifuyu, and it was fortunate that her character made it nearly impossible to have anyone close to her. However, that teacher, that man, was an exception—he was around Chifuyu and, astonishingly, by her own volition. That was the most incredible thing.

And it was infuriating. The great genius, Tabane, began to scheme, pondering over what she could do.

Things did not go well for Tabane as she was infuriated by the way Chifuyu interacted with Takehito.

She could mask her feelings quite well, always smiling when others were around. The smile even seemed more genuine when Chifuyu talked to her, although she was convinced that Ichika, like her, was extremely dense.

Chifuyu failed to notice how Tabane's eyes dulled when she spoke of their teacher. For the first time in perhaps forever, Chifuyu behaved like a typical high school girl.

Tabane would never have wished for such a thing had she foreseen that the dreadful teacher would charm Chifuyu. It didn't help that despite her loathing for the man, Takehito was undeniably a genius. While not adept with technology, his expertise in biology was unparalleled. He had an intricate understanding of human biology, and in the realm of science, he was remarkably accurate.

Even though she detested him as a person, she couldn't help but harbor the tiniest, most insignificant amount of respect for the teacher and his intellect.

The biggest problem was presenting an answer. Now in his thirties, two decades older than her, married (to an alien, though Miya could pass for a human), a teacher, and so on, he couldn't return the feelings.

That was easier said than done, given that he genuinely liked Chifuyu as a person. But it was permissible—a sort of relationship, or rather, a friendship. He recalled a television program about a ten-year-old child playing chess with a man seven times his age.

There was nothing wrong with that unless you encountered someone who misconstrued it completely. That was precisely what Takehito had been trying to avoid with Chifuyu—getting too close to her.

He wasn't oblivious to Tabane's disdain for him. It was unmistakable.

And as time went on, it didn't get any easier. Despite his intentions, he had formed a somewhat friendly relationship with her. Nothing inappropriate, that was for sure, but to label their connection as merely teacher and student would be inaccurate.

Which made it all the more difficult for him to reject her, which is precisely what he did at the end of the school year. Spring was unfolding, and Chifuyu was waiting for Takehito.

"Hello, Orimura." She turned towards the teacher.

"Asama-sensei. Hello." They both admired the blossoms beginning to bloom. Graduation ceremonies were underway. Chifuyu had one more year left, and in her uniform, she had never looked more beautiful.

Which was precisely why this wasn't easy.

"Orimura. There is something. I." He paused, his lips suddenly dry, as Chifuyu's gaze fixed on him. With a heavy heart, he met her eyes.

"I am aware of your feelings. You might not even fully understand them yourself. But. Chifuyu. I can't be what you're hoping for." As Chifuyu's gaze lingered on her teacher, she blinked, processing his words. Takehito sighed, softly tapping her head with his book, consciously avoiding a smile.

That would only deepen her pain.

"Orimura, I offer you my sympathy. But I am twenty years your senior, a teacher." He sighed again. And I'm already married." As realization dawned on Chifuyu, her vision blurred, and tears began to stream down her face.

"Who?" Her voice was so soft that it was almost unrecognizable. Chifuyu's strength and composure seemed to falter.

Takehito felt a part of himself recoil at the sight of her, so vulnerable and broken.

"Who what, Chifuyu?" The tears were relentless now.

"Who did you marry?" In response, Takehito pulled out his wallet and showed her a picture of Miya. After a fleeting glance, Chifuyu turned and ran.

The doctor sighed, a heavy weight on his chest. There were no words left to say.

This would also be his last day there as a teacher.

The rational side, something Chifuyu took pride in, understood that Takehito couldn't reciprocate her feelings. Surprisingly, she didn't find this realization too hard to accept, mostly because she was still untangling what her feelings actually meant and how she was supposed to react to them. It was one of the most brutal truths she had ever had to confront.

Sure, her rational mind kept reminding her of this, but rationality and emotions rarely mixed well, as evidenced by her immediate reaction. She ran, and Takehito sighed deeply in response.

He wished there was someone else to look out for her. He had even attempted to contact Ichika, but that proved to be more complicated than anticipated. Besides, he wasn't exactly sure how to approach the youngest Orimura.

"Hey, kid. I'm a teacher from your big sister's school. Your sis is in love, but I turned her down. Could you look after her for me? Thanks." No, that certainly wouldn't go over well.

Takehito sighed again, a sense of sorrow accompanying the act. Watching Chifuyu run away, he tugged at something inside him. His rational side insisted this was for the best, yet a part of him couldn't help but feel a deep sadness. Still, there was nothing more he could say or do.

Back to the present

"You didn't feel too great when you had to dump her?" Takehito felt his wife's hand on his, squeezing it gently.

"Turn down is a more fitting term. 'Dump' feels rather harsh for what happened," the scientist said, leaning his head back. "What else could I have done, Miya? I was already married to you, about to leave the school, and she was two decades younger. There really wasn't any other option."

Miya moved closer to her husband, resting her head against him and holding him tight. Despite everything, she knew Takehito to be a kind and gentle soul. That must have been why Minato reminded her so much of her husband—they shared that tenderness, and it was hard for Miya to imagine him in the position of having to reject someone.

Yet, despite all the rationalizations, the situation had taken its toll on Takehito. His fondness for Chifuyu had grown naturally from their interactions, a testament to his capacity for deep empathy, even in professional boundaries.

But at this moment, she was more focused on their story unfolding. "That wasn't the last time you saw Chifuyu Orimura, was it?" Miya asked her husband. As he shook his head, resting against her, she softly ran her fingers through his hair.

"No, it wasn't. The second time was actually the first time you formally met her."

Three years after the rejection of Chifuyu

Five years before the start of the series.

Three years after Chifuyu's rejection and five years before the series begins, Takehito found himself in a serene moment at home, basking in the dwindling sunlight. The inn he had been building was now complete, affording him some much-deserved relaxation.

The kitchen was quiet, devoid of the usual aromas of cooking, because Miya, the one who would typically be preparing their meal, was resting in his lap.

For Takehito, nothing was more comforting than having Miya Asama, his wife, close to him like this. He had never envisioned himself married, let alone to someone as extraordinary as Miya.

However, Miya was far from ordinary. She wasn't human but a Sekirei, a being whose culture was centered around finding their "special person" known as an Ashikabi—a trait possessed by half of the human population, surprisingly—and forming a bond through a process called "winging," facilitated by an exchange of DNA, typically through a kiss.

This bond was deeply significant, yet an ashikabi had never winged Miya for reasons unknown. For many Sekirei, such a fate would be devastating, but for Miya, it meant there were no obstacles to her union with Takehito, a human—her human.

As she slept peacefully in his lap, the formidable being she was seemed nothing but adorable. How she chose him, Takehito often wondered, yet it brought him immense joy.

Outside, the world might be tumultuous, but in this moment, none of that mattered. He reclined, letting the scents of spring envelop him, a welcome change from the cold.

In these peaceful moments, with Miya by his side, Takehito found a profound sense of contentment. Rest, it seemed, was not just important—it was everything.

Takehito heard the bell ringing. "Miya. Hey, Miya." His wife was like a cat at this point. Luckily, he knew one thing. He moved his head and blew in her ear. But still, that didn't work. So, he did the most logical job.

"Sweetie, I want to bang you so hard that you won't be able to walk straight." Miya veered up, red in the face, blushing like a mad girl, looking flustered when he said that. He softly laughed when he looked at her.

"That got you up," he stated as he walked to the door. Miya sighed; that trick always worked on her. She would never admit it openly, but she did enjoy those moments with Takehito, the intensity of their connection leaving her breathless. He found equal pleasure in their closeness.

As Takehito opened the door, his reaction was one of sheer surprise.

Standing before him was a woman he hadn't seen in three years. Her raven hair, longer now, was tied up in her characteristic ponytail. Those amber eyes that had once looked up to him with a mix of admiration and something more gazed softly at him now, revealing a maturity that hadn't been there before. Her figure, while not as voluptuous as Kazehana's, was undeniably striking, accentuated by her growth in height.

Dressed in a business ensemble—a white shirt concealed by a sleek black suit and matching skirt—Chifuyu looked as formidable as she did all those years ago. Yet, there was an elegance to her that suggested she could wear anything and still command attention.

"Hello, Asama-sensei," Chifuyu greeted, bringing Takehito momentarily back to the past. He had to blink a few times, ensuring the reality of the moment. Standing before him was not only the winner of the first Mondo Grosso Championship but also his former student, who once harbored feelings for him.

"Well, look who the cat dragged in. It's been a while, Chifuyu." Gently, he raised his hand to pat her on the head, a gesture reminiscent of their teacher-student days, reigniting a specific ache within them both. Takehito shook his head slightly, dispelling the bittersweet nostalgia.

"Well, Chifuyu. How did you find my place? You're a long way from home, aren't you?"

She shrugged. "I was in the area for work. I came across a newspaper advertisement for Maison Izumo and saw your name. I wanted to see if it really was you, sensei. I'm glad to see you haven't changed."

Takehito offered a smile, though a thread of unease wove through it.

"You've changed quite a bit," he observed, looking at the woman who had matured before him. Just then, Miya's voice floated from within, tinged with curiosity. "Takehito, dear. Who is at the front door?"

Miya's gaze then settled on the young woman standing before her husband, introducing a new dynamic to the unfolding scene.

"Takehito, who is this?" Miya's voice cut through the tension the moment her gaze met with the newcomer's. Drawing on his experience dealing with Takami Sahashi's formidable presence, Takehito prepared himself for what was to come.

"Oh, hello. Who might you be?" Miya's voice was sickly sweet, a tone Takehito recognized all too well.

"A saleswoman. I am sorry, but I am not buying anything from you," Chifuyu replied with feigned innocence as she stepped inside, removing her shoes with a grace that belied her words.

"Good day. My name is Chifuyu Orimura. I was an old student of your husband. I was hoping he was home so I could say hello and catch up." Miya, taken aback, blinked a few times upon hearing the name. Takehito had mentioned Chifuyu before, but sparingly.

How much time had passed since then? Two, perhaps three years?

"My, you're an old student of my husband. I trust you have a valid reason for your visit." The air grew thick with tension, and Takehito caught between the two women, exchanging wary glances.

Seeking to dissipate the mounting pressure, Takehito clapped his hands, drawing the attention of both women to him. This moment could either salvage the peace of his home or unravel it—only one way to find out.

"Okay, can we all calm down? Chifuyu, why did you come here?" He hoped for a simple answer, but Chifuyu's sly smile, first to him and then to Miya, hinted at anything but.

"Sensei, I wanted to see what kind of woman claimed you. For that reason, I came here to challenge your wife to a match." Miya's eyes widened in surprise; the secrecy surrounding her extraterrestrial origin made the prospect of a physical contest with Chifuyu daunting.

"Eh, Chifuyu." Takehito, ever the peacemaker, interjected. I don't think it's such a good idea." Yet, Chifuyu's determination unsettlingly reminded Miya of Karasuba—a comparison that boded ill.

"Don't worry, Asama-sensei. I am confident I can take her on." Miya responded with a kind smile, but the aura behind her shifted, manifesting a fierce readiness Chifuyu seemed unphased by.

"Ara? Really now. And how strong do you think you are to challenge me for a fight?" Chifuyu's response, accompanied by a defiant smile, caught the couple off guard.

"I am the first Brunhilde. I think I should be more than capable of fighting you." That revelation left Takehito and Miya in shock, their oversight suddenly glaringly apparent.

The Mondo Grosso Championship was, in essence, akin to the Olympic Games for Infinite Stratos pilots—a prestigious tournament where participants battled to represent their countries.

Chifuyu's victory in the inaugural event was a testament to her prowess. It should have been clear to Takehito that Chifuyu's aura of combat and determination was unmistakable, especially when it came to the Infinite Stratos.

"Well, that seems like a valid reason. Perhaps you could teach me," Takehito interjected, lightly tapping to halt the escalating challenge between Chifuyu and Miya.

"We won't be using an Infinite Stratos for this, nor will we be teaching anyone anything. If this match is to happen—and it seems it will—you'll compete on equal ground. With wooden swords. This way, we drastically reduce the risk of serious injury."

His firm stance left no room for debate. Despite the strong personalities in the room, Takehito's voice carried the most authority, prompting both women to consent.

It was hardly surprising then that the immediate tension gave way to a shared meal. Hunger, after all, made poor company for contention.

As they ate, Takehito couldn't help but observe the striking similarities between his wife and Chifuyu Orimura. Both were exceptional fighters, adhering to strict, rigorous standards in their training and conduct.

Yet, beneath their formidable exteriors, both women harbored a capacity for profound, selfless love. Miya had relinquished her divine status to join her life with his.

Chifuyu, on the other hand, would brave any danger for her brother. This meal, amidst the talk of challenges and competition, underscored a fundamental truth: at their core, these two remarkable women shared more than just a fighting spirit.

Another fic. Two reasons to come home

Chifuyu settled back against the soft pillow, relishing the tranquility of their home now that they had returned for the summer. Everything was as it had been before they left; her younger siblings found comfort in her presence, just as they always had.

One slept soundly—Ichika, lost in dreams, his breathing even and steady. Madoka, however, remained awake, her eyes reflecting a mix of thoughts and emotions in the quiet of the night.

"Something wrong, my little sister?" Chifuyu inquired, noticing Madoka's wakefulness.

In response, Madoka merely smiled a gentle, affectionate expression that spoke volumes. She snuggled closer, seeking the warmth of an embrace.

"Just that I love you. A lot, my big sister."

Kept the shoutout in.

As Takehito lavished praise on her culinary skills, he caught up with his old pupil, Chifuyu. Their conversation drifted to Ichika and his journey, notably affected by Tabane's creation of the Infinite Stratos.

Despite the upheavals, Chifuyu had been honing her skills in other arenas. Her triumph at the Mondo Grosso Championship wasn't just a stroke of luck but the result of her exceptional prowess in swordsmanship, encompassing various disciplines of kendo, kenjutsu, and other martial arts.

Her passion for combat, as Chifuyu shared, was more than a mere hobby; it was an integral part of her identity, though she steered clear of being labeled a battle junkie. It was a path of growth she had embraced wholeheartedly.

The day led Miya and Chifuyu to a familiar dojo where Takehito had arranged for their anticipated match. He had a rapport with the owner, allowing Miya to use the space for her routine training sessions and ensuring she remained sharp. Dressed for the occasion, Chifuyu was dressed in a packed kimono, and Miya was dressed in her usual attire. They prepared for the duel, with Takehito serving as the referee.

"Are both sides ready?" he inquired, receiving affirmative nods. "Begin!" With that, he stepped back, acknowledging the significance of the encounter. It was perhaps the first time Miya faced someone who was not only her equal in combat but also a fellow human.

As their swords clashed, sending a tremor through the air, their gazes locked, each recognizing the formidable spirit in the other.

This was Chifuyu's moment to demonstrate the extent of her growth, perhaps to prove her worthiness in Takehito's eyes. Her journey through countless battles had taught her that there was always a higher peak to conquer.

Chifuyu's life had been a tapestry of relentless training and challenges. Yet, she had never faced a battle with the prospect of defeat looming over her.

Challenges were familiar territory, but she had always emerged victorious as if the odds were eternally in her favor. However, facing Miya, she sensed an unprecedented force, a hidden power within her opponent that could potentially turn the tide.

'You can't fool me, sensei. This is not just a normal woman.' Chifuyu's insight pierced the veil of the ordinary, acknowledging the extraordinary essence she faced.

As their blades disengaged, the duel reignited, and Chifuyu pressed the attack. Her movements were swift and light, a flurry of strikes aimed at testing Miya's defenses.

Miya, embodying the might of a Pillar and the grace of a deity, initially underestimated Chifuyu's prowess. The revelation of Chifuyu's skill, her warrior's essence pulsing with each swing, prompted Miya to escalate the intensity of the duel. As the battle progressed, Miya found herself genuinely challenged, her usual dominance matched by Chifuyu's relentless spirit.

Takehito observed from a distance, confident in the unspoken agreement between them to avoid lethal intent. Yet, the ferocity of their engagement suggested a battle to the end.

The spectacle before him was one of raw, exhilarating combat—a dance of death were it not for the underlying control and respect.

Miya's strength was legendary, and her capacity for battle was one of the reasons Takehito had fallen for her.

Today, however, she found a rival in Chifuyu, a testament to the young warrior's skill and determination. For Miya, the fight was a rediscovery of joy; her smile was not one of malice but of pure delight, a rarity in the heat of combat.

Chifuyu, too, found joy in the challenge. Accustomed to emerging victorious, she recognized in Miya a worthy adversary, perhaps even her superior.

This battle against the one who held Takehito's heart illuminated Miya's unmatched ability to fight and protect—a capability Chifuyu acknowledged with respect and a tinge of envy.

As the duel stretched on, Chifuyu's resilience was tested to its limits. Despite her formidable spirit, the relentless pace and Miya's overwhelming strength began to take their toll.

Thirty minutes of intense, unyielding combat—a marathon by any warrior's standard—pushed Chifuyu to the brink.

In a final clash, the exhaustion and exertion proved too much. Chifuyu's grip faltered, her sword slipping from her hands to clatter on the ground, a silent concession of defeat.

Though her body yearned to collapse, her indomitable will kept her upright; hands braced against her knees as she struggled for breath.

Breathless, Chifuyu's gaze fell to the floor, the weight of admission heavy on her shoulders. "I… I lost," she whispered, the words barely escaping her lips.

Miya knelt before the younger warrior, her presence radiating warmth as she offered a kind smile, a stark contrast to the fierce competitor moments before. "I must congratulate you, Chifuyu Orimura. It's been ages since I've been pushed to fight with such enthusiasm."

Chifuyu's response was subdued, tinged with disappointment. "I lost."

Miya sighed, her expression softening as she pulled Chifuyu into an embrace. "Yes, you did. But understand this—your defeat today was not in vain. I never anticipated you could challenge me so fiercely. You truly tested my limits," she confessed, sincerity lacing her words.

Takehito watched, his heart swelling with pride as Miya affirmed Chifuyu's strength and determination. Each word underscored a genuine respect for Chifuyu's abilities and the intense battle they had shared.

"Chifuyu-chan," Miya began, her voice carrying a note of wisdom as she stood, placing a hand over her heart. "Remember, there's a vast reservoir of strength within you, fueled by more than just ambition or skill. Love, in its many forms, can empower you beyond measure. Embrace it."

Gratitude shimmered in Chifuyu's eyes as she bowed deeply to Miya. "Thank you, Miya-san. Your words will serve as a valuable lesson to me."

And for the last time. Back to the present

"Clearly, she didn't heed those words as a lesson," Takehito sighed, reflecting on his wife's observation. He found it hard not to agree.

In Chifuyu's eyes, he would always be an unattainable star, a source of both immense joy and profound sorrow. Love manifests in myriad forms.

Miya and Takehito's love was multifaceted, extending beyond each other to encompass Minato and his companions and, in a different essence, the paternal love they would soon profoundly understand.

"I don't think you're mistaken, Miya," he remarked as she found comfort in his lap. "Something must have deeply affected her. This is evident in the messages Ichika-shonen sends to Minato. That much is undeniable."

Miya, catching the teasing glint in his eye, knew all too well the changes her absence had wrought. According to the consensus among the tenants, she had become almost unrecognizably stern, a shadow of her once vibrant self.

"Perhaps it's something to do with Tabane. That girl was always a wildcard," Takehito mused, recalling moments of unbridled madness and declarations of love intertwined with Chifuyu's stories.

Miya nodded in agreement; Ichika did not know the complexities of their shared past with Chifuyu. They had only later learned of the duel on the island, a confrontation that revealed much about Chifuyu's character.

From what they gathered, Chifuyu might still have hope of escaping the labyrinth of her misjudgments. However, the prognosis seemed less optimistic for the others, trapped in similar patterns of self-destruction.

Wrapped in comfortable silence, they cherished the stillness—a momentary pause in the whirlwind of their lives—until a knock at the door echoed through their thoughts.

The groan was unmistakably audible as Takehito made his way to the door, sliding it open to reveal Minato with Kusano perched on his hip, both sporting apologetic expressions.

"Minato? What do you need, boy?" Despite his discomfort, Takehito couldn't help but inquire, his tone reflecting a mix of curiosity and concern.

"Eh, Takehito-san. Not to sound rude, but when do you think Miya-san will begin cooking? It's been two hours past dinner time."

The question prompted a surprised blink from the Asamas, who glanced at the clock only to confirm it was indeed eight pm. The realization that they had spent the entire day engrossed in conversation was both astonishing and humbling.

"Sorry about that, Minato," Miya responded with haste, her movement towards the kitchen sparking a round of enthusiastic applause from the flock awaiting their meal.

Though she felt a twinge of embarrassment and the impulse to explain the delay, Miya chose silence. She did not wish to divulge the day's discussions or face the curious and possibly teasing crowd.

Matsu and Kazehana, well-versed in discretion, remained silent. They understood the unspoken rule: unless Minato inquired directly about Chifuyu, the topic would remain untouched. Should the need arise, they would defer to Miya, trusting her to navigate the delicate history shared with Chifuyu Orimura.

Takehito, scratching his head in a mix of apology and bemusement, met Minato's understanding gaze. "Sorry about that, Minato. We just got caught up in a long talk."

Minato, for his part, shrugged off the inconvenience. After spending the majority of his day immersed in studies and managing the younger members of their unique family, the dinner delay was a minor hiccup in an otherwise productive day.

Unbeknownst to them, the conversation and the day's events were mere precursors to a series of unfolding challenges that promised to test their bonds and resilience far beyond what any weather forecast could predict.

Meanwhile, on a beach, far away from Shinto Teito.

Ichika sought solitude, reflecting and unwinding under the night sky. The day's warmth lingered on the rocks, a companion to his thoughts more than the catch-and-release fishing that preoccupied him. It was then that Chifuyu approached, breaking the serenity with her presence and inquiry.

"So here is where you were the entire day?" Chifuyu's voice carried over to him, her figure outlined against the dimming light. "So, catching anything?"

"More about clearing my head, really. So, Orimura-sensei, what's the update?" Ichika's attention remained on the rod, signaling his interest in more pressing matters than his fishing luck.

"The Silver Gospel is being returned to Uncle Sam, fully deactivated," Chifuyu reported, to which Ichika couldn't help but feel a smug satisfaction. "It's a good thing I'm friends with Minato. Matsu's efforts were invaluable."

"You brat," Chifuyu couldn't hide her exasperation. "Do you realize the headache your actions are causing me? How am I supposed to report this? 'My younger brother enlisted his best friend, the Ashikabi of the North, and his Sekirei to neutralize the threat.' Really?"

"So, you're more upset about the paperwork than the fact you're not planning my funeral? That's real reassuring, big sis," Ichika retorted, his tone laced with sarcasm, drawing a stunned silence from Chifuyu.

"Excuse you?" she managed, clearly taken aback.

Ichika pulled out his phone, showing her a recent message: " I got a text from Minato a few hours ago. According to Matsu, my odds weren't great. It seems I was more likely not to make it out alive." His glare intensified, challenging her response.

"Yet, you gambled with your life, avoiding what seemed inevitable," Chifuyu critiqued, folding her arms in disapproval.

"I survived, thanks to Minato. I've skirted death too closely, too often. Not eager to repeat that experience," Ichika confessed, his gaze shifting away, reflecting on his close calls.

"And you call yourself a man? Letting a woman fight your battles?" Chifuyu's accusation hung in the air, tinged with a mix of concern and challenge.

Leaning back, Ichika offered a smile, one that spoke of gratitude, resilience, and the complexities of their entwined lives and battles fought—both on the front lines and within themselves.

"Didn't you always advocate for equality? 'Women are superior to men,' that's a refrain I've heard too often. So, I see no shame in preserving my life. Besides, who are you to define what makes a man?" Ichika's words flew into the ocean breeze as he expressed his defiance.

"You're deemed a man by those around you. Though, as Captain Obvious might point out, there aren't exactly any other men here to affirm that for me. So, perhaps those outdated notions of yours could be better left unsaid, or shove them in a place that I won't say out loud, for the sake of my safety at least," Ichika retorted, the sharpness of his words softened by a half-joking, half-serious tone, aware of Chifuyu's imposing presence.

Chifuyu's response was a glare, her arms crossed in silent rebuke, as if his audacity both irked and, perhaps, secretly impressed her.

"You're quite the little rebel, aren't you? Well, enjoy your fishing and the solitude, Orimura. We're leaving in fifteen hours," she announced, the finality in her voice marking the end of their discussion.

As Chifuyu departed, Ichika returned to his contemplative fishing, the summer sun enriching his skin with a warm glow. His thoughts wandered, not to the challenges of the day but to the tranquility he found in these moments alone, a rare commodity in his tumultuous life.

Unexpectedly, his solitude was interrupted once more, this time by Houki's approach. Ichika, raising an eyebrow at her sudden appearance, met her statement with a nonchalant shrug.

"So here is where you were."

"Well, Houki. I haven't moved an inch," Ichika quipped, stretching leisurely as he turned to face her. Houki, clad in a suit that struck a balance between elegance and appeal, caught his eye. Despite the complexities of their situation, Ichika couldn't ignore the stirrings of his adolescent heart.

"I can't believe you stood up to my sister like that." Houki's tone mixed admiration with disbelief, referencing his earlier confrontation.

"Houki, it seems we both have our grievances with her. Her refusal to intervene with the Silver Gospel was frustrating. So, when Matsu-san stepped in, I was relieved. She acted before I even had the chance to request her help," he explained, laying back to gaze at the sky, with Houki taking a seat beside him.

"Her intervention likely saved us both. I doubt we could have stopped that machine on our own," Houki conceded, albeit reluctantly.

"It was a cowardly move," she finally admitted.

"Houki, there's a thin line between cowardice and survival. Stripped of all pretense, we're here, we're alive. Matsu-san neutralized the Gospel, and now, we can enjoy the summer, free from immediate threats. Isn't that enough?" Ichika reasoned his words, cutting through the tension between them.

Houki edged closer, her presence a silent comfort. "You do realize she's Minato's, not yours? She's married to him," she reminded him gently, hinting at the complexities of their connections with the Sekirei.

"Houki, I'm well aware. The Sekirei, their bonds... I'm just a kid caught in the crossfire. Minato threw me a lifeline when I needed it most," he reflected, the weight of his experiences evident in his voice.

"You've changed. In all this time, you've really changed," Houki observed, a note of melancholy in her voice.

"And you haven't. That's where we clash, Houki. Do you think I wanted this? To be the only guy in a school surrounded by girls who view me as an oddity? Despite everything, each of those girls means something," Ichika shared, his candidness laying bare the isolation and challenges of his unique circumstances.

As their conversation meandered, an idea sparked within Ichika. Reaching into his pocket, he produced a ribbon, its white and red hues reminiscent of Akatsubaki. Offering it to Houki with a wistful smile, he sighed a gesture of peace and shared memories.

This retelling aims to capture the depth of Ichika and Houki's conversation, reflecting on past actions, personal growth, and the complexities of their entwined lives. If there's more to their story or additional details

"Happy birthday, Houki. I'm sorry I forgot about it," Ichika admitted, a genuine note of apology in his voice. The gift, a simple yet thoughtful ribbon, found its place in her hair, complementing her appearance and bringing a smile to her face.

"It suits you well," he noted, his gaze lingering, appreciative and warm.

"Thank you, Ichika. For this," Houki responded, her grin reflecting a mix of happiness and surprise at the gesture.

"Look, despite everything, we made it through. They didn't need to pull us out or have the others step in. We've navigated through the mess. In the end, things have a way of working themselves out," Ichika mused, his words tinged with relief and a hint of wonder at their survival.

Houki's expression turned contemplative. "Ichika, you really are something. But what comes next?"

"We have the summer," Ichika offered, his tone suggesting both a literal and metaphorical interpretation of the possibilities that lay ahead.

As Houki moved closer, the proximity between them diminished, stirring an unspoken tension. "Ichika, do you even see me as a woman?" she inquired, her voice carrying a vulnerability rarely expressed.

Ichika glanced at her, taking in the contrast of her fierce spirit and the undeniable allure she possessed. "Eh, well. It's complicated," he stumbled, his heart racing as the distance between them closed, drawn by an inexplicable pull.

Just as their moment approached a silent crescendo, a drone hovered into view, its presence jarringly intrusive.

As Ichika and Houki shared a moment of unexpected intimacy,

The arrival of four figures shattered the tranquility, each adorned in the gleaming armor of their IS Units, their intentions as clear as the moonlit sky above.

"Oh," Laura remarked, her gaze fixed on the pair, her tone betraying a mix of surprise and disapproval.

"Let's kill them all," Rin declared, her eyes gleaming with an enthusiasm that bordered on madness, a stark contrast to the peaceful setting they had intruded upon.

A sinister giggle escaped Cecilia, adding an eerie undertone to the already charged atmosphere, her delight at the prospect of confrontation unmistakable.

The scene took an even more unexpected turn with Charlotte, who, instead of joining the chorus of aggression, looked at Ichika with a glare of confusion and betrayal. "Ichika, what are you doing?" she demanded, her voice cutting through the tension.

Faced with the escalating situation, Ichika sighed deeply, rising to meet the challenge posed by the arrival of his friends-turned-adversaries. He cracked his knuckles in a gesture of readiness, his bracelet glinting in the dim light as he activated Byakushiki, his own IS unit, in a bold move that took everyone by surprise. "I don't apologize," Ichika declared, his stance defiant as he prepared to confront the unforeseen hostility head-on.

Shaking his head in disappointment and a touch of sorrow, he turned his gaze from the girls arrayed before him back to Houki.

"You just couldn't leave well enough alone, could you?" His words carried a weight of resignation, a lament for the peaceful moment lost to the winds of conflict and misunderstanding.

The air vibrated with the power of the IS units, each pilot locked in a tense standoff, their systems humming with anticipation. Ichika, surrounded but undaunted, focused on the immediate threat.

Laura, her Schwarzer Regen bristling with weaponry, launched the first salvo, a barrage of high-velocity missiles streaking toward Ichika. With a surge of acceleration, Ichika's Byakushiki shot into the sky, its energy shield shimmering into existence, deflecting the missiles with precise, controlled bursts of power. The explosions painted the night sky with brief blooms of fiery light.

Rin, not to be outdone, charged forward, her Shenlong's arm blades extending with a deadly whir, aiming to close the distance and bring the fight to a melee clash. Ichika met her charge head-on, parrying with the Yukihira Type 2. Their clash sent shockwaves rippling through the air, cracking the ground beneath them from the force.

Cecilia, hovering at a distance, attempted to snipe Ichika with her Blue Tears' long-range lasers. But Ichika, anticipating the attack, used the brief respite in melee to execute a series of evasive maneuvers, zigzagging through the air with astonishing speed, rendering her precise shots futile.

Charlotte, torn between her sense of duty and her feelings, finally joined the fray, her Raphael Revive Custom II unleashing a versatile assault, combining both ranged and close-quarters combat tactics. Ichika found himself hard-pressed, forced to adapt rapidly to counter the dual threat Charlotte presented.

Yet, it was in this crucible of conflict that Ichika's resolve shone brightest. Utilizing Byakushiki's unique abilities, he began to turn the tide, weaving through the onslaught with a dancer's grace, his counterattacks becoming more confident and more precise. With a mighty thrust, he disarmed Rin, sending her crashing to the ground. A swift, calculated maneuver allowed him to evade Laura's most potent shot, closing in to deliver a stunning blow that knocked her IS into a temporary shutdown.

Cecilia and Charlotte, witnessing the fall of their comrades, doubled their efforts, and their attacks were a relentless storm. But Ichika, fueled by a determination born of necessity, met their challenge with an unyielding spirit. His Byakushiki pushed to its limits and shone like a beacon in the night, its blade singing through the air as it deflected, parried, and struck with lethal efficiency.

In a final, desperate gambit, Cecilia and Charlotte synchronized their assault, a fusion of light and force aimed to overwhelm them. But Ichika, his spirit unbroken, charged headlong into the heart of their combined might, his IS's energy output surging to unprecedented levels.

With a cry that echoed across the battlefield, Ichika unleashed Byakushiki's ultimate attack, a devastating wave of energy that shattered the combined offensive, sweeping his adversaries back with irresistible force. One by one, the IS units of Laura, Rin, Cecilia, and Charlotte were overwhelmed, their systems overloading, forcing them into a state of emergency shutdown.

The aftermath was a tableau of defeated warriors, their IS units flickering and fading, leaving them grounded, a stark contrast to the fury that had raged moments before. Ichika, breathing heavily, stood victorious yet solemn, his gaze lingering on each of his friends, a silent apology in his eyes for the necessity of his actions.

As the dust settled and the echoes of battle faded, Ichika remained alone in the center of the arena, the weight of his victory heavy upon his shoulders. The night reclaimed its silence, the stars above indifferent witnesses to the tumult below.

After that, he was done. Walking back to the hotel, he spared not a single glance for them, Houki included. She was the only one who could've followed him by walking, yet he left all the girls at the place where he had unceremoniously deposited them. At that moment, Ichika found himself devoid of any capacity for concern.

Upon reaching the hotel, his sister was waiting for him. "Ichika," she called out, but the boy who turned to meet her gaze was unrecognizable. His eyes held a distant, thousand-yard stare.

"Yes," he replied, his voice that of a man who had witnessed the horrors of a lifetime.

"Where are the other four?"

"At the rocks where I sat and dropped them. Please don't ask me to pick them up. I'm going to hit the sack," he stated flatly, leaving no room for further inquiry.

As Ichika retreated to his room's solitude, a song that Shevchenko had sung before echoed in his mind.

A specific line played on a loop mirrors the turmoil within. It is as if the melody seeks to penetrate the armor he has erected around his emotions, offering a semblance of solace in the wake of turmoil.

You had to have it all.

Well, haven't you had enough?

"You can't have it all," a pearl of wisdom that had lodged itself firmly in Ichika's mind. An older adult had once told him that men accepted the inevitability of sacrifice from a very young age, around five or six years old, whereas women harbored the belief that they could have it all.

The following day, Ichika found himself nursing a bottle of water, the cool liquid a slight relief. The four girls, looking conspicuously sleep-deprived, maintained a cautious distance as he sat down.

Part of him wanted to extend his gratitude to his big sister for her silent support, yet another part yearned for a fresh batch of air, a break from the current tension.

While sharing a significant look with his sister, an unspoken agreement hung in the air: it might be best for him to spend some time away for the summer.

"So, girls, did you have a good night?" he ventured, the weight of their stares almost tangible. Yet, for now, he could only look forward to catching some sleep on the bus ride home, his body aching for rest.

The thought of the long email he needed to write to Minato loomed in his mind, a task he planned to tackle either once home or during the journey.

"Morning, Ichika," Houki greeted him, her embarrassment palpable yet mitigated by a night of rest. This brief exchange swept away the residual tension, her presence drawing his focus.

"Morning, Houki," he responded his thoughts momentarily drifting towards crafting the message for Minato. However, an unexpected interruption came.

"Excuse me, is there an Ichika Orimura here?" The voice drew his attention, and he found himself staring, mouth agape, at a striking figure. A woman with long blond hair and a perfectly fitted blue suit stood before him, her presence an undeniable bombshell in the midst of his turbulent thoughts.

"Yes, that's me. And you are?" Ichika managed, despite his mouth feeling inexplicably dry in the presence of such striking beauty.

"I am Natasha Fairs, the pilot of the Silver Gospel. I heard from the higher-ups you were the one who took down the kid," she replied with a directness that took Ichika by surprise. He scratched his cheek, offering a nervous smile in response.

"I was not really on my own. I had some help from an old friend, Minato Sahashi," Ichika confessed, downplaying his role in the events.

Natasha sighed, then unexpectedly moved closer, her lips grazing his cheek in a fleeting peck. "Well, give him my regards when you see him," she said, her smile warm. A blush crept over Ichika's face, his usual composure faltering under her gaze. "I owe you one now. Thank you, Mr. White Knight."

Turning around, Ichika caught the glaring stares of fury from the girls but raised his arm in a gesture that brokered no argument. "Don't," he stated, a newfound assertiveness in his voice suggesting a shift in the group's dynamics.

Choosing to sit at the front of the bus, Ichika sought solitude, pondering the brief encounter. He overheard snippets of conversation between his sister and Natasha, indicating a close connection to the Silver Gospel and a shared resolve to address whoever had jeopardized it.

The notion that they might assist Natasha crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed it; he owed her nothing, he reassured himself, her matters were her own to resolve.

Glancing at his phone, a raised eyebrow betrayed his surprise. A message from Minato had already arrived.

Summer.

Hey, Ichika. I hope to hear from you about what happened at your place. It sounds like you had a big party.

I am sending you the message that I would like you to come in two weeks. I'm throwing a party on the 22nd of July, mainly because the coming week will be scorching, brother.

And I promised the girls a fun night. So please come over then.

Ichika began sending the message.

Good to hear from you. No worries. I can come over and have fun. Thanks for the heads-up. Also, you got the regards from Natasha Fairs. She is the pilot of the Silver Gospel.

Ichika didn't even notice the bus moving while Chifuyu spoke to them about the summer and so on. He just wanted to get home.

I hope you have fun there with your girls, but I don't have to know the details, brother. Keep those for yourself.

What is there to say?

The beach was fun. I had some peace. Thanks to Matsu, I didn't have to fight. Although I am just willing to let all things sail about that Silver Gospel, it's down, I'm alive, and I am fine. Thanks, brother.

Tabane left, and I don't know if you are responsible for that. I just no longer care. I'm too worn even to do that.

But things didn't go down that smoothly, brother. I don't want to say too much, but last night, I gave the girls a beating about some stuff. Let's say that I didn't apologize and fought back. I gave them one trashing.

It had something to do with me not being allowed to make my own choice—that kind of sucks; I also burned a bridge with Charlotte. I wished that it didn't have to happen, but right now, I just no longer care.

Either way, I am taking up your offer to come over. But right now, I'm sleeping more.

Ichika pressed the "Send" button and fell asleep on the bus ride home. In just a few more days, he would see Minato again.

Scene skip. In Shinto Teito

After a splendid dinner in which Miya surpassed herself, seemingly as a form of apology to her tenants, Minato upheld his resolution to sleep alone in his room. Despite the mild discontent this decision stirred among the girls, his determination remained unshaken.

The dawn of the next day found Minato awakening from a deep slumber, a sleep prolonged not just by exhaustion but by the relentless days of intimacy that had preceded.

The message waiting on his phone from Ichika was a stark contrast to the tranquility of his morning. The words painted a picture of a friend teetering on the edge of apathy, a soul wearied by recent tumults. This was a red flag for Minato; Ichika's disinterest signaled a deeper malaise.

Glancing around, Minato's gaze settled on the eight figures scattered around him, a tangible testament to the fact that, despite intentions, some plans refuse to adhere to expectations.

Their presence explained the unusually restorative quality of his rest, an ironic comfort given his initial desire for solitude.

With the onset of summer, a season heralded for its promise of new beginnings, Minato couldn't help but feel a twinge of apprehension.

The thought of "starting the summer off with a bang" carried an unintended weight this year. The usual excitement at the prospect of sunny days filled with laughter and leisure was tempered by a complex web of feelings and unresolved situations that lay ahead.

---

I actually forgot how big this chapter is and that CHAT GTP can give me issues.

Yet, it was pretty fun to do this.

I hope you all liked the chapter.

Saluut.