“This is it, Mii-chan. Just you and me. Side by side. We’re in this together, all the way.”

  Watari grinned as he threw an arm around Yumi’s shoulder, walking alongside her down the Musabori corridors.

  Yumi let out a short exhale, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, sure.”

  She barely humored his optimism, but secretly, she found it comforting—at least, until they reached the end of the hallway, where two guards stood before them.

  One of the guards standing by the entrance gestured zily. “Boys to the left. Girls to the right.”

  Watari blinked. “Wait, what?”

  Yumi blinked too. Then, in perfect unison—

  “Wait, what?!”

  Before either of them could protest, two more Musabori enforcers stepped up, one grabbing Watari by the colr and the other nudging Yumi forward.

  “You didn’t think we were gonna let a boy and a girl shack up together, did you?” The guard chuckled. “This ain’t some summer camp. We don’t need Musababies.”

  And just like that, the doors shut between them.

  ?

  Watari slumped onto his bunk, sighing.

  His new roommate, a id-back Okachi with messy brown hair, leaned against the wall, flipping a knife between his fingers. “So, you’re the new guy, huh?”

  “Guess so,” Watari muttered, staring at the ceiling.

  The guy smirked. “Name’s Kaito. Just ranked up from Ashigaru. But don’t let that impress you too much, though. They hand those out like candy to anyone who doesn’t die in their first mission.”

  Watari raised an eyebrow. “Right. So what’s the secret? How do you not die?”

  Kaito twirled the knife one st time before catching it. “You learn how to control your Tamashkii while being in tune with your form every damn time. That’s the difference between rookies and real fighters.”

  That caught Watari’s attention. “You mean like how Hoju—I mean, top Musabori do it?”

  Kaito gave a slight suspicious pause, then nodded. “Exactly. You need to learn how to regute your flow, how to draw it out in just the right amounts without wasting energy. I can tell. Right now, you’re all power, no finesse. Stick with me. I’ll teach you how to fight for real.”

  ?

  Meanwhile, in the girls’ quarters, Yumi sat in her old room, staring at the walls.

  The bed, the desk, the window—everything was exactly as she had left it. And yet, it felt completely different.

  She thought she’d buried these feelings. Thought she had moved on.

  But now, sitting in the same room where she had once pnned to rise in the Musabori ranks, it all came rushing back.

  A soft knock on the door.

  “Yu-chan?”

  A familiar voice.

  Yumi turned, spotting a girl leaning against the doorframe—shoulder-length bck hair, a casual smirk, and the easy confidence of someone who had spent years in this life.

  “Didn’t think you’d actually come back.”

  “Neither did I,” Yumi admitted.

  Her old friend—more like an acquaintance, really—shrugged. “Guess that makes two of us.”

  ?

  Five weeks passed.

  Watari trained.

  Yumi thought.

  And then the executioner—Yasuke himself stopped by both of their rooms.

  “Time to put that training to the test.”