Outside the Jinka, the change was becoming increasingly obvious.

The three instructors remained seated on their mats, eyes closed, their fields still connected to the environment surrounding Araka.

As Araka changed the course of her movement, Araka’s field’s no longer simply extended toward whatever attracted its attention — instead, it contracted and expanded with a stable rhythm like a live being. 

Kinekama, upon seeing the change, softened her expression. 

“…There,” she highlighted the change using her own field.

“She’s pulling the boundary back,” Yon followed. 

“Yes.” Kinekama nodded. “So she can control it by recognizing where she wants to go and preventing her field from going freely without her own judgment.”

Huashin remained silent, concentrating on maintaining her part of the Jinka.

Yon, however, seemed genuinely fascinated.

“This is the first time I’ve seen a native Matake field behave like this,” he said. 

“There’s a reason for that,” Kinekama’s voice remained calm, “Native Matake fields are already rare, because mostly they’re associated with a particular lineage, and even then, their development can be difficult to predict.”

She paused.

“But more importantly… As far as I know, Araka may be the first person in at least a decade with a native Matake field to be systematically trained toward developing a spell.”

Huashin’s eyebrows rose immediately. Despite keeping her eyes closed, her surprise was obvious.

“Master Kinekama, is it that rare? Like no one even tried at Hikuyomi Shrine?”

“No,” Kinekama shook her head: “The Otanaku clan has acknowledged native Matake fields for a very long time — the native fields are not very new to us. But training one as we would train an ordinary Matake sorcerer? Not in recent decades.”

“Why?” Huashin asked.

“Because awakening a native field is unpredictable,” Kinekama said while adjusting her posture slightly: “For an ordinary trainee, activation can be introduced gradually. Their habits can be observed and corrected while their field develops.”

“A native field is different,” Kinekama took a deep breath and continued: “It may already have spent years developing alongside the person without either of them understanding it.”

Yon nodded thoughtfully: “And its changes aren’t necessarily triggered by training.”

“Exactly,” Kinekama continued: “An emotional shift can change it; a powerful connection with another person can change it; sometimes even a single experience can alter how it responds — all these are variables a shrine normally doesn’t want when systematically training a sorcerer.”

Huashin became quiet.

Considering everything she knew about Araka — her interaction with a Matake capable caveman; her sudden awakening after a night run; her newly acquired knowledge about the source of her power — that description sounded almost uncomfortably appropriate.

Yon, however, raised another point : “But wouldn’t Hakasa (夏雨) also count as one?”

“Hmm. You’ve raised a good point, Agent Yon — her field does have some resemblance with Araka’s, though I would think there is one distinction.”

Yon and Huashin started to listen carefully.

“Hakasa indeed had some great potential when she came to Hikuyomi: when I first inspected her field, hers surprisingly didn’t spike at all — yet, it was never at the level of sophistication I saw from Araka.”

Yon and Huashin were surprised. 

“Before the awakening, her field was too typical — almost lacking its own character. From what I could tell, it was an active field, but it was like a slab of clay for ceramics — raw material that is waiting to be refined.

“And considering she didn’t go through extensive Matake awakening sessions before, I would take it as a native one.”

Yon raised an eyebrow.

“Araka’s field, in comparison, was able to have its own identity and even personality — something you would typically find among elite shrine sorcerers, not some random high school girl.”

“And Master Kinekama, it was even the case when I first met Araka during the entrance exam,” Huashin said, “even before her full activation, I could sense her field was able to process thoughts and speech.”

Yon nodded slowly. 

“That is why, as for Hakasa, I’m still debating whether I would formally classify what she possesses as a native field at all.”

—

As the Jinka remained active, Jinhui had finally finished helping with the morning duties.

She hurried back toward the rear wing.

“Instructor Yon?”

No response.

“Master Kinekama?”

Still nothing.

She glanced toward the dining hall behind her.

“Breakfast is almost finished. Are you still doing the Jinka—”

Jinhui stepped into the courtyard, and then stopped — she was stunned upon finding four people sitting completely motionless on the layered mats. 

“…Oh.”

Jinhui took another step, and then the courtyard tilted.

“Heh? Why am I…”

She grabbed the nearest wooden pillar.

For an instant, she saw flocks of birds — in the shade of rocks — flying around the courtyard. 

 Or perhaps these rocks were birds.

“…What?” She blinked rapidly.

Even the shrine roof seemed to shift sideways.

“Ugh…”

Jinhui tightened her grip on the pillar.

“Instructor Yon? Master Kinekama? Sara-cha? Are you all right?”

Jinhui stumbled toward a nearby bench and dropped onto it. Her legs suddenly felt weak.

“What is going on…?” She said while placing her hand on the forehead. 

—

Inside the cave, Araka took one final step before eventually reaching the water source — a flowing spring with water bursting out from the bottom. 

Guess that’s the water source Master Kinekama had talked about, Araka said. 

Then, just as Araka extended her hand toward the flowing spring, the Jinka collapsed — the sunshine flooded back into her perception.

Araka’s eyes opened beneath the blindfold.

“…hah..” she let out a long breath and immediately fell backwards onto the mat.

Kinekama opened her eyes the earliest, then followed by Yon and Huashin. 

“Araka,” Yon said first, “Can you hear me?”

Araka nodded. 

Yon then stood up and walked to the back of Araka and quickly loosened the blindfold. A stream of sunlight came through her eyes with the blindfold covering removed. 

Araka stared upward at the morning sky. Her hair clung slightly to her forehead, sweat covered her face.

For several seconds, she simply lay there breathing.

“…Did I…” she swallowed. “…pass?”

Kinekama checked her eyes, then lightly touched the side of her neck.

“I think you’re more prepared than I expected.”

Araka blinked: “…That wasn’t my question.”

Kinekama laughed softly: “If you were in Hikuyomi, you could be easily ranked among the top half graduates of our elementary Matake training program.”

“…I’ll take that as a yes?” Araka tilted her head and said. 

Huashin smiled. Yet, before she came to Araka, something in the distance caught her attention.

“…Yon. Master Kinekama.”

“Hm?” Yon looked at Huashin. 

Huashin pointed toward distance — Jinhui was slumped against the bench near the corridor, one hand still gripping its edge.

“Jinhui!” Yon jumped to his feet and hurried across the courtyard: “Are you alright?”

Jinhui slowly looked up: “…Instructor Yon…”

“I’m sorry.” Yon crouched beside her: “The session lasted longer than I expected.”

Jinhui, however, didn’t respond to Yon’s question. She pressed a hand against her forehead.

“Why … Why am I so dizzy?” She looked toward the courtyard with unfocused eyes, “and where are these flying rocks from?”

Yon froze for half a second.

“…Ugh… That’s my fault.”

Jinhui stared at him.

Yon bowed his head apologetically: “That was just my and Master Kinekama’s Matake field. The Jinka extended farther beyond the training area than I intended.”

Jinhui slowly looked back toward the four mats: “So the flying rocks?”

“That’s mine, amplified by Master Kinekama.”

“The rocks?”

“Master Kinekama’s, amplified by mine.”

From across the courtyard, Araka, still  lying flat on her back, heard the exchange.

Despite her exhaustion, a small laugh escaped her — partially by Jinhui’s confusion, partially by the joy of her passing the Jinka.

So, I’m one step closer to get my own spell. She said to herself.