*The memory fragment that Mashù had left out of his story came flooding back as he spoke...*
Mashù's eyes fluttered open to the sterile white ceiling of a hospital room. Every muscle in his body ached, and the antiseptic smell made his stomach churn. For a moment, he couldn't remember where he was or how he'd gotten there.
"So I really made it out of there," he whispered to himself, the events of the warehouse flooding back in vivid, painful detail.
"Mashù, you're awake!"
His mother's voice broke through his confusion. Sakura sat beside his bed, her face streaked with tears of relief and exhaustion. The illness that had been slowly consuming her seemed to have accelerated—she looked frailer than ever, but her eyes blazed with the fierce protectiveness that only a mother could possess.
"Mom," Mashù croaked, his own tears beginning to fall. "Someone saved me. I made it out..."
Before either of them could say more, the television mounted on the wall captured their attention with a breaking news report.
"*This just in: the Guardian of Revenge, Retaliare, has died from unknown causes. If anyone has seen what happened, please come to city hall.*"
The words hit Mashù like a physical blow. On the screen, they showed a photo of Kotaro Makiba in his official Guardian uniform—smiling, confident, alive. The same man who had died in Mashù's arms just hours ago, passing on his spirit with his final breath.
Mother and son cried together, their tears mixing grief for a fallen hero with relief at survival and the overwhelming weight of secrets that could never be shared.
**Present Day - Cafeteria
The memory faded as Mashù's fist clenched on the cafeteria table.
"I swear I'll find him and eliminate him from existence!" The words came out as a growl, carrying harmonics that made the nearby windows vibrate.
"Mashù, calm down," Anjero said gently, though he could feel the dangerous energy building around his teammate. "We'll find him in no time. I'm pretty sure the police are looking for him 24/7."
Mashù's laugh was bitter, empty of humor. "Well, it's been three years and still nothing. I know he's still out there, taking awakened spirits from kids." His voice dropped to a whisper that somehow carried more menace than his earlier shout. "I swear I want him to beg for my forgiveness if I ever see him again."
He turned slightly, and for the first time, Anjero noticed the way Mashù's shirt pulled tight across his back—not from muscle, but from what looked like a raised scar beneath the fabric.
"The only thing I have to show from that event is this lightning-shaped scar I got on my back from one of the grunts with an electrical whip," Mashù continued, his fingers unconsciously reaching back to touch the hidden mark.
Kamira's expression softened with genuine sympathy. "Wow, I never knew that's what happened."
Romaji, who had been listening with growing fascination, leaned forward eagerly. "So that's how Retaliare died? He was one of my favorite guardians too. How can he die from such a weakling like the earth spirit? I would win easily."
The temperature in the cafeteria seemed to drop several degrees. Mashù's head turned toward Romaji with mechanical precision, and when he spoke, his voice carried the weight of both his spirits.
"Shut your mouth, you idiot! He saved my life with his dying breath after fighting almost thirty grunts by himself!"
Romaji shrank back in his chair, suddenly realizing he'd crossed a line he hadn't known existed. "OK, I'm sorry. Geez..."
Anjero placed a calming hand on Mashù's shoulder, feeling the tension coiled there like a compressed spring. "I'm sorry, Mashù. It must've been scary for you."
Mashù took a shuddering breath, his spirits' energy slowly settling back to manageable levels. "It was, and still is... But I'll be fine for now." He looked around the table, as if searching for a way to change the subject. "Why don't someone else tell their story? Yoku, tell Anjero why you always wear those headphones."
Anjero seized on the opportunity to shift focus away from Mashù's obvious pain. "Yeah, now that I noticed that, you do wear those everywhere."
Yoku touched the sleek headphones around his neck with an almost self-conscious gesture. "OK, amazing story. I wear them because it helps me focus, and my guns are very loud..."
The casual dismissal of what was obviously a deeper issue made Anjero raise an eyebrow. "That's it?"
When Yoku just shrugged, Anjero turned to Kamira. "OK then, Kamira..."
"Hm?" She looked up from her mostly untouched food.
"What about that tattoo on your neck?"
Kamira's hand instinctively moved to cover the delicate design that emerged from her collar—rose petals and thorns that traced along her throat before disappearing beneath her sleeve.
"Oh, this... it's a rose that goes all the way to my hand. It symbolizes my sick sister. She's my inspiration to fight every day."
The simple statement carried weight that made everyone at the table pause. Another story of family, another hidden pain driving them forward.
Yoku, perhaps sensing the need to keep things moving, turned to Anjero. "What about you, Anro?"
"What about me?"
"Those blue streaks in your hair."
Anjero reflexively touched the subtle blue highlights that ran through his dark hair—so natural he'd stopped noticing them years ago. "Oh... this? I don't know. As long as I've been aware, I've had it all my life."
"Hm... weird, but OK," Yoku said, though his expression suggested he found it more than just weird.
As they finished their food in comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts about the secrets they'd shared and the ones they'd kept hidden, none of them noticed the way the blue in Anjero's hair seemed to pulse faintly in rhythm with his heartbeat.
**The Next Morning**
"Good morning, Anjero. How'd you sleep?" S.E.I.D.'s mechanical voice greeted him as consciousness slowly returned.
Anjero stretched in his comfortable bed, muscles protesting the previous day's emotional toll. "I slept well enough, S.E.I.D. Thank you."
"No problem. Today you'll be in the classroom."
"Classroom?" Anjero sat up, confusion replacing sleepiness. "I thought we trainees were special?"
"You are, but you all have to become smart guardians as well. Learning is fundamental, Anjero sir."
Anjero couldn't argue with the logic, though part of him had hoped for more exciting training. "OK, I get it. Where's the classroom anyway?"
"I already marked it on your device. Just follow the directions... and don't be late!"
"Thank you, S.E.I.D." As the device went silent, Anjero sighed and swung his legs out of bed. "Huh... I'm tired, but I can't complain now...."
After a quick shower and breakfast, he followed the directions on his device through corridors he was still learning to navigate. The school seemed to reveal new sections every day, as if it were larger on the inside than physics should allow.
"OK... down this hallway and to the right. Oh wow, this classroom is kinda... small."
Romaji looked up from his desk with barely concealed disdain. "I mean, duh... there's only a few of us. Don't need a big room for like... five students."
"You do have a point there. OK, so where do I sit?"
Kamira waved him over without looking up from her notebook. "Sit anywhere. There's no assigned seating."
"OK, I guess I'll sit here..." Anjero chose a desk near the window, where he could see the city stretching out below them.
The school bell's chime filled the air with a sound that seemed to resonate with spirit energy—not quite mechanical, not quite natural. Moments later, the classroom door opened to admit their instructor.
Migan Flare was impossible to ignore. Tall enough that she had to duck slightly through the doorway, she moved with the fluid grace of someone whose spirit energy was perfectly integrated into her physical form. Her brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and her eyes held the sharp intelligence of someone who had seen too much of the world's darker corners.
"OK, class..." she began, then paused as her gaze landed on Anjero. "Oh, I see we have a new recruit. You must be Anjero Sutanrì, am I correct?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Her expression hardened slightly. "It's Ms. Flare. Nothing else. Got it?"
Before Anjero could respond, Yoku leaned over and whispered loudly enough for half the class to hear: "She's kinda tall, don't you think, Yoku?"
"Yeah, we've all noticed," Yoku replied to himself, then raised his voice with characteristic lack of filter: "Yo, teach! You lookin' kinda good today! Like a full-course meal. Mhmm!"
The change in Ms. Flare was instantaneous and terrifying. Her spirit energy—the Siren, spirit of sound—manifested as visible waves of compressed air that struck Yoku like a physical blow.
"YOKUDAN, SHUT THE HELL UP!"
The sound wave picked Yoku up and hurled him across the classroom, his desk skidding backward until he crashed into the wall with a tremendous clatter.
"Owww... geez, teach, I was just giving you a compliment," Yoku groaned from his new position against the back wall.
Kamira shook her head with the weary expression of someone who'd witnessed this scene many times before. "You'd think you'd learn by now, Yoku... huh."
Ms. Flare smoothed her hair and adjusted her jacket as if nothing had happened. "OK, class, we'll be learning spirit history today. Anjero, were you able to get all your books yet?"
"No, I haven't."
"Well, just share with someone."
Anjero looked hopefully at Kamira. "Kamira?"
She held up her textbook, which looked like it had been through a blender. "Sorry, I ripped mine..."
He turned to Romaji, who immediately shook his head with a dismissive expression. "Don't even think about it."
*Huh... what's his problem?* Anjero thought before turning to Mashù. "Yo, Mashù, can I share with you?" When there was no response, he tried again. "Mashù?"
Mashù blinked, as if coming back from somewhere far away. "Huh? Sorry, I was spacing out."
"You good, man?"
"Yeah, I'm good," Mashù replied, though the haunted look in his eyes suggested otherwise.
Ms. Flare clapped her hands once, the sound carrying enough spirit energy to ensure everyone's attention. "OK, turn to page sixty-four. We'll be learning about the Spirit War."
Just as they were opening their textbooks, a knock at the door interrupted the lesson. Hajime entered without waiting for permission, his expression more serious than Anjero had ever seen it.
"Sorry, Ms. Flare. Can I borrow your students real quick?"
Ms. Flare's professional demeanor shifted slightly, concern creeping into her voice. "Sure, I guess."
Hajime turned toward his communication device. "S.E.I.D.!"
"Yes, sir?"
"Mission brief."
The holographic display activated, showing a detailed map with a pulsing red dot in the middle of what appeared to be an ocean.
"We have found the Spirit Thief. He's located in Mawell, in an underground water base in the middle of the ocean."
Ms. Flare's intake of breath was sharp and audible. "You mean Tenki?"
At the name, Mashù's entire body went rigid.
"TENKI!" The name emerged as a roar that shook the classroom windows and sent several textbooks sliding off desks.
The moment of truth had arrived. After three years of searching, hunting, and waiting, Bradoon Tenki had finally been found. And judging by the expression on Mashù's face—a mixture of rage, anticipation, and something that might have been relief—this confrontation had been a long time coming.
Anjero felt Aalto stir within him, the ancient water spirit responding to some instinct that suggested this mission would be different from their previous encounters. More dangerous, more personal, and potentially more significant than any of them realized.
The war they'd been preparing for was about to begin in earnest, and their first real battle would be against the man who had stolen Mashù's innocence and killed a hero.