Batora City welcomed them with color.
Not bright, vibrant color—but color that endured. Concrete buildings still stood firm, traffic lights blinked in steady rhythm, and shop signs creaked softly in the wind. As if the city refused to collapse, even though it was no longer truly alive.
In the distance, mountains encircled Batora like natural walls. Human voices filled the air—haggling, short bursts of laughter, the squeak of cart wheels rolling over asphalt.
The old pickup slowed as it entered the outer market district.
“Here’s good,” Fudo said, pulling over.
The truck stopped beside a row of semi-permanent stalls—corrugated metal roofs, faded tarps, and wooden signs with shop names nearly worn away by time.
Despite their worn appearance, the area was lively. People moved back and forth carrying shopping bags; some wore long coats, others shabby hoodies or simple clothes.
Haka jumped down from the truck bed first, followed by Kiyo, who landed a bit awkwardly. Aisha stepped out from the passenger seat with light movements, her violet hair swaying gently in the breeze.
“Batora’s outer market,” Fudo said as he stepped out and closed the door. “Relatively safe. No heavy security. Tomori probably won’t come this far—too many civilians, and the streets are too tight for their maneuvers.”
He pointed toward the end of the market, where a two-story building stood with large windows and a wooden sign painted with a broken clock.
“I’ll sell my goods there. That antique shop. If you need anything, come find me.”
Haka nodded. “Thanks, Fudo.”
“Don’t cause trouble,” the man added with a faint smile. “And don’t wander too long. Batora still has Tomori patrols.”
Aisha raised her thumb. “We’re professionals.”
Fudo chuckled, returned to his pickup, and drove slowly down the market street.
For a moment, the three of them simply stood there.
Batora felt… different.
Unlike the dead city they had left behind. Unlike the smaller towns they had passed through. And yet, not entirely safe either. The air was thick with the scent of warm food, metal, and dust. There was life here—fragile, but real.
“Crowded,” Kiyo murmured, his eyes darting as he scanned the area. People with Neutral Magic went about their work—cooking, arranging goods, repairing tools.
“And expensive,” Aisha added after glancing at the prices on a nearby stall. “Look at that. One apple costs a ridiculous amount.”
“This city’s famous for apples, too. Why are they so pricey?” Haka said. His gaze drifted to a tall pole at the corner of the street, where an old holographic screen flickered to life. The symbol of wings and a star—Tomori’s emblem—appeared, followed by looping announcements about curfews and restrictions on unauthorized dangerous magic.
He looked away.
“Alright. Focus on supplies,” he said. “Dried food, medicine, and batteries for our electronics. We don’t know when we’ll reach another major city.”
Kiyo nodded quickly. “I’m the one shopping, right?”
Aisha grinned. “As usual. While you’re at it, check if it’s safe for us to move around.”
They began walking through the market.
Their steps blended into the crowd, bodies occasionally brushing together—three people long accustomed to moving as a single unit. Haka walked slightly behind, letting Aisha and Kiyo take the lead, his eyes sharp as he observed every detail.
Smoked meat vendors. Secondhand clothing stalls. Old book sellers with pages yellowed by time. Between them were tired faces—and smiling ones, too.
Haka stopped at a crossroads between stalls and reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a neatly folded roll of cash—not much, but enough to last a few days.
“Kiyo,” he called.
The bespectacled boy turned.
Haka placed the money in his hand. “For shopping. Don’t spend it all. Just the essentials.”
Kiyo accepted it with both hands and nodded. “Got it. Dried food, medicine, drinking water—”
“Pudding,” Haka cut in immediately.
Kiyo closed his eyes for a moment. “Haka.”
“Milk flavor, if they have it,” Haka added shamelessly.
Aisha chimed in. “Cookies too! Butter ones. Or chocolate. Or both.”
Kiyo stared at the two of them.
For a long time.
“…I was told not to spend too much, but your list keeps growing.”
Aisha smiled sweetly. “We trust your budget management, Kiyo.”
Haka gently patted his shoulder, smiling as well. “After a long journey, sweet snacks are essential for morale. We’re counting on you.”
Kiyo let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping. “Yeah, yeah… I’ll see what I can do.”
He checked the money again and slipped it into his pocket. “Where are you two going?”
“Looking for an inn,” Haka replied. “Cheap. Close to the market. And—”
“No magic-type inspections,” Aisha added.
Kiyo nodded in understanding. “I’ll be back here in an hour.”
“Don’t take too long,” Haka said.
“If you run into Tomori, just play dead,” Aisha added casually.
Kiyo looked at her flatly. “That doesn’t help.”
Then he turned and disappeared into the crowd, his steps quick but steady.
Once Kiyo was out of sight, Aisha stretched her arms overhead and yawned softly.
“He’s really patient,” she said. “Even though he’s the youngest.”
“Because he’s used to it,” Haka replied with a quiet snort of amusement.
They walked along the edge of the market, away from food stalls and into a quieter row of older buildings. Here, the noise faded—replaced by footsteps, a low electrical hum, and the creak of wooden boards.
The first inn they encountered looked… too clean.
Polished metal signage. A small camera mounted under the eaves. And clear lettering:
Mana Inspection Required
Aisha immediately grabbed Haka’s arm. “Nope.”
The second inn was cheaper, but a uniformed attendant stood at the entrance holding a scanning device.
“Next.”
They kept walking. Until a two-story building appeared before them. Its paint was peeling, the wooden sign crooked, bearing the name:
Twilight Blossom Inn
No cameras. No official symbols. Just a yellowed light bulb hanging lazily above the door.
Aisha grinned. “This is it.”
Haka glanced around briefly, then nodded. “Let’s go.”
The interior was simple. Wooden tables, slightly creaking floors, and the scent of warm tea mixed with dust. A middle-aged woman sat behind the counter, reading an old book.
“Rooms?” she asked without looking up.
“Two. One with two beds, if possible,” Haka said. “How much?”
The woman finally raised her head. Her gaze was sharp… then flat again.
“Cash only. No ID. No questions about magic,” she said. “You follow the rules, I look the other way.”
Aisha smiled brightly. “We’re good guests.”
The woman slid the keys across the counter. “Second floor. Hot water cuts out sometimes.”
“That’s fine,” Haka replied, taking the keys.
As they turned toward the stairs, Aisha whispered softly, almost cheerfully,
“We get to sleep on real beds again.”
Haka glanced at her and smiled faintly. “…Yeah.”
And for the first time in a long while, their steps felt a little lighter.
***
Elsewhere, Kiyo walked through the market lanes with steady steps, one hand holding a simple shopping list he had already memorized.
Canned food. Drinking water. Basic medicine. And—unfortunately—pudding and cookies.
He stopped at a small dessert shop at the corner of the market. The display case was filled with glass jars of butter cookies, chocolate biscuits, and several cups of pudding neatly arranged on ice.
“Two milk-flavored puddings,” Kiyo said to the shopkeeper. “And those cookies.”
The shopkeeper nodded and began packing the order.
While waiting, Kiyo shifted slightly closer to a table in the corner. Three adults sat there, their voices lowered—but not enough to escape ears trained to hear more than just words.
“…they say the files were stolen straight from the Arbiter’s office.”
Kiyo didn’t turn. He kept his eyes on the display.
“That’s in the capital. Shimagahara. Broad daylight, too.”
“It has to be them,” another voice scoffed. “The Veil.”
Kiyo’s grip loosened slightly.
“That Cursed Magic organization?”
“Yeah. Who else would dare? Cursed freaks. No rules. No brains.”
Kiyo took a slow breath, keeping his expression neutral.
“They say they were after documents. Tomori’s military archives—and records about the war three hundred years ago.”
“What for? Trying to bring back the same chaos?”
“That’s why I said the law is necessary. The Cuiling Decree is right. If anything, they should be wiped out completely.”
A short laugh followed.
Kiyo accepted the paper bag from the shopkeeper. “Thank you.”
He paid, bowed politely, then lingered for a moment—pretending to check his purchase.
The whispers continued.
“Tomori’s already mobilizing. Security’s tighter.”
“Good. Don’t let them stir up trouble in Shimagahara again.”
Kiyo closed the bag and slipped it into his pack. He didn’t turn. Didn’t react. Showed nothing.
To the world, he was just an ordinary teenager shopping at a market—slightly tired, slightly bored, and completely harmless.
Inside, he memorized everything.
Shimagahara. Old files. Arbiter archives. The Veil.
Tomori was moving. Security in the capital would tighten.
He stepped out of the dessert shop, the small bell on the door chiming softly behind him.
Outside, the bustle of the market welcomed him back.
Kiyo adjusted the strap of his bag and walked away.
To the world, he was just another citizen.
But to Haka and Aisha—
he was their eyes and ears.
And for now, that was more than enough.
***
Kiyo returned to the inn with brisk steps, the shopping bag slung over one shoulder. The building was small and slightly crooked, its paint faded, but the wooden frame was sturdy—safe enough, and more importantly, free of temple symbols or magic inspectors at the entrance.
The moment he opened the room door, two pairs of eyes turned toward him.
“Kiyo!” Aisha exclaimed first. “Cookies?”
Kiyo let out a short sigh. “Got them.”
Haka sat on the floor, leaning against the bed, one hand busy with his phone. He stretched out the other. “Pudding?”
Kiyo pulled out the paper bag and placed it on the small table. “That too.”
Haka immediately put his phone down and opened the bag eagerly—then froze.
He stared inside.
Then at Kiyo.
“…Two?”
Kiyo already knew the question was coming.
“Yes. Two.”
A brief silence followed.
“Why only two?” Haka pouted, lifting one pudding cup and weighing it in his hand as if hoping it might multiply.
Kiyo massaged his temples. “Because someone—” he looked at Haka flatly, “—said not to spend too much money.”
“That was for important supplies,” Haka shot back. “Pudding is an emotional necessity.”
“That’s not an official category,” Kiyo replied without hesitation.
Aisha giggled as she opened her cookies. “Kiyo, you’re cruel.”
“Thanks for the support,” Kiyo said dryly.
Haka sighed dramatically and leaned back, opening one pudding without a hint of guilt.
“You know,” he said while eating, “I could finish three on my own.”
“You could also survive without pudding,” Kiyo snapped.
Haka didn’t reply. He took another spoonful.
And another.
Kiyo watched him, waiting. “Hey. I need to tell you something.”
No response.
Haka was fully focused on his pudding, his expression serious—like he was performing a sacred ritual.
“…Haka.”
Still nothing.
Kiyo clicked his tongue. “You can hear me.”
Haka swallowed, then took another spoonful. “Hm?”
“You’re pretending not to hear.”
“What?” Haka looked up innocently. “Did you say something?”
Aisha grinned widely, clearly enjoying the scene.
Kiyo inhaled deeply—then exhaled slowly. “I heard rumors at the market.”
That did it.
Haka stopped mid-spoon.
Aisha turned as well, her expression immediately more serious.
“The Veil,” Kiyo continued. “They’re causing trouble in the capital. Stole files from the Arbiter’s office.”
“The Veil?”
“They say it’s an organization made up of people with Cursed Magic. A rebel group.”
“News from Shimagahara already reached here?” Aisha asked. “And there’s really an organization like that?”
“That’s only natural,” Haka said quietly. “People who’ve been discriminated against for having Cursed Magic… eventually they’d form something like that.”
He closed his pudding—nearly empty now—and finally looked straight at Kiyo.
“Tomori?” he asked.
“They’re moving,” Kiyo replied. “Security’s been reinforced. Shimagahara isn’t safe yet.”
Aisha leaned against the wall, sighing softly. “So we need to be careful if we go there.”
Haka nodded slowly. Then, he opened the second pudding.
Kiyo stared at him in disbelief. “Seriously?”
“Helps me think,” Haka said casually as he scooped it up. “Want some?”
Kiyo paused.
“…No. Thanks.”
“I knew it,” Haka said with a wide grin, happily continuing to eat, as if the heavy discussion from moments ago hadn’t happened.
Aisha chuckled softly, covering her mouth. A brief silence settled over the room. Soon after, Haka finished the second pudding. He stared mournfully at the empty container, like someone who had just realized his entire paycheck was gone in a single day.
Kiyo snorted from the other bed.
“You could’ve saved that for dinner, you know.”
“Then just use your magic,” Haka said with a grin, eyes gleaming mischievously.
“Sorry?” Kiyo asked, certain he’d misheard.
“Yeah! Just use your magic. It’s useful, right?” Haka said casually. “Resetter—bring my pudding back with your power.”
Kiyo shot him a sharp look. “Hey! Don’t use my magic for nonsense like this!” His voice rose, as if an angry emoji had popped above his head.
“Huh? Why not? It’s super useful,” Haka replied lazily. “Besides resetting the injuries I get in every fight.”
Kiyo stared at him in disbelief. Sometimes he truly wondered who was actually younger.
“Be serious! I can’t use my magic for—”
“Pleeease, Kiyo~”
Haka put on his most pitiful puppy eyes.
Kiyo felt a twitch at the corner of his eye—and finally gave in. He exhaled roughly, grabbed the empty pudding cup with a thoroughly annoyed expression, and let a faint green light bloom from his hand, enveloping the plastic container.
In an instant—Reset—the pudding returned, whole and untouched, as if freshly bought.
Haka’s eyes lit up. He lifted the restored pudding like a treasure.
“You’re the best, Kiyo!”
Kiyo could only stare at the ceiling. “I regret being friends with you.”
Aisha laughed softly from the other bed. “But if not Kiyo, who else could spoil Haka like that?”
Haka didn’t answer. He was already busy spooning the “revived” pudding, smiling in pure satisfaction—as if the world had returned to peace.
Among the three of them, Kiyo possessed the safest—and most practical—magic. His ability was called Resetter, the power to return objects to their original state, no matter how damaged or destroyed they were.
That was why, on every journey, Kiyo was the one who handled shopping and information gathering. And in battle, he was the one who supported Haka and Aisha on the front lines—resetting their wounds until it was as if they had never existed.
Comments (0)
See all