"Mr. Aado, you busy?" Romaji asked, knocking on the office door with uncharacteristic hesitancy.
"Ah! Romaji, you wanted to talk to me?" Hajime looked up from the mountain of paperwork covering his desk—festival preparations, security protocols, and other documents he quickly shuffled into a drawer.
"Uh... yes. One of the animal ancestors told me something unsettling."
Hajime's expression immediately grew serious. "What did they tell you?"
"Do you know anyone named Kuro Yami?"
The name hit Hajime like a physical blow. For a moment, his composed demeanor cracked, revealing something deeper—pain, fear, and old wounds that had never fully healed.
"So they know about it also. Hm," he said, more to himself than to Romaji.
"Yeah, he said something about the spirit war from back then... that it's gonna start again."
"I see. Anything else?"
"He also said to watch out for Kuro. He's—"
"That's enough!" Hajime's voice carried a sharp edge that made Romaji step back. "Thank you, Romaji. Go back to the campus and continue your training."
"Yes, sir," Romaji replied, clearly unsettled by his instructor's reaction.
As the door closed behind the student, Hajime slumped in his chair, the weight of old memories pressing down on him like a physical force.
"Huh... Brother, we may have to fight yet again, I see," he whispered to the empty office. "I will not let this war start again. S.E.I.D.!"
"Yes, sir?"
"Have you found it yet?"
"No, sir."
"Please keep looking."
"I'll continue to search for it, sir."
"Thank you." Hajime stared out the window at the training facility where his students were preparing for what they thought was just a competition. "Where could it be."
"Yo, Romaji, are you OK?" Anjero asked as his teammate returned from the office, clearly shaken by whatever conversation had just taken place.
"Yeah, I'm OK, Player Two. Just a little concerned."
"Concerned about what?"
Romaji gathered the group around him and explained what the Eagle Ancestor had told him—the warnings about this Kuro they speak of, the possibility of another spirit war, and the ominous sense that their peaceful training days might be coming to an end.
"Wow, that's heavy," Anjero said when Romaji finished. "I think I remember Aalto telling me something about that."
"Wait, hold on," Yoku interrupted, his eyes wide with surprise. "You talk to your spirit?"
"Yeah, can't all of you?" Anjero asked, genuinely confused by their shock.
The silence that followed was telling.
"Please don't tell me you all haven't at least tried to communicate with them?"
"No, I usually just listen to them and go with whatever they say," Mashū admitted sheepishly.
"Wow... maybe you all should try to talk to them."
"How can we talk to them then?" Romaji asked.
"I don't know. It's almost second nature to me now."
"Well, that's no help," Shinkei said with characteristic bluntness.
"Here, try closing your eyes and just focusing," Anjero suggested.
"OK then," they said in unison.
Everyone settled into meditation positions, their faces scrunched in concentration as they tried to establish conscious communication with their spirits for the first time.
Within minutes, everyone except Shinkei had opened their eyes, their expressions ranging from embarrassed to annoyed.
"Mine was pissed at me and asked me why I haven't talked to her till now," Yokudan admitted.
"Same," everyone else chorused.
"Shinkei?"
"Woah, mine's pretty cool. Has a bit of a temper, though," Shinkei said, still with his eyes closed, apparently deep in conversation with Pyrus.
"Well, you just got yours, so he probably wasn't as pissed," Anjero observed.
"Hello, guys! What's everyone doing?" Kamira's voice interrupted as she entered the training facility.
"We're talking to our spirits," Anjero explained.
"Oh, nice. I do that sometimes also."
"Wow, why are we just learning about this, Kam, if you knew?" Romaji asked with exasperation.
"You never asked," Kamira replied with a shrug.
Romaji, Yoku, and Mashū collectively sighed in frustration.
"You all didn't notice two weeks ago when Anjero was eating all those cakes?" Kamira continued.
"Yeah, what about it? Just thought he had a really bad sweet tooth," Yokudan said.
"Nah, Anjero doesn't really care for sweets," Shinkei pointed out.
"Yeah... me and Aalto had a deal to beat Tenki," Anjero explained, his cheeks reddening slightly with embarrassment.
"And what was that?" Mashū asked with growing curiosity.
"She'd take over my body for a few hours, and I guess she loves sweets. I couldn't look at cake without throwing up for a whole week."
"Hey, at least you're alive to eat sweets," Shinkei said pragmatically.
"That is true, me brotha. Anyways, Kamira, to catch you up, Romaji told us this," Anjero said, then proceeded to explain the Eagle Ancestor's warnings about the coming spirit war and Kuro Yami.
"Oh no, I heard those days were truly horrible. Can't imagine it coming back," Kamira said, her usual confidence replaced by genuine concern.
"Oh, everyone's here," Hajime announced as he entered the facility, though his timing seemed suspiciously convenient.
"Mr. Aado, is this true?" Kamira asked directly.
"I see Romaji told you. Honestly, I'm not sure myself. Just continue training until the festival—it's in a week."
From the observation deck above, Rafaeru's voice carried down to them. "Why didn't you tell them the truth?"
"It's best if they don't know at this time," Hajime replied, his voice carrying a weight that suggested far more knowledge than he was willing to share.
The exchange left all the students with more questions than answers, but the approaching festival demanded their focus.
---
## CHAPTER 32: THE NIGHT BEFORE
### **Festival Eve**
Anjero sat on his bed, reviewing the competition events for what felt like the hundredth time. Despite their preparation, the thought of competing against schools with hundreds more missions under their belt made his stomach churn with nervous energy.
"I'm kinda nervous about this festival," he admitted to his empty room.
A knock at his door interrupted his anxious thoughts. "Come in!"
To his surprise, the entire team filed into his room—Mashū, Kamira, Romaji, Yokudan, and Shinkei—all looking equally nervous and determined.
"Oh, it's everyone... why?" he asked.
"We just wanted to talk about strategy," Mashū explained, settling onto the floor with the others.
"But in my room?"
"Don't worry about that!" Mashū replied dismissively.
"I'm glad I got a say in this," Anjero muttered, though he was secretly pleased by their impromptu team meeting.
"I know we're all still thinking about the possibility of another spirit war, but we need to focus on this festival and become the top school," Mashū said, his voice carrying the authority of someone who had learned to channel his anger into leadership.
"That would mean more publicity and recruits," Kamira added.
"And more girls... sorry," Yokudan said sheepishly.
"Anyways, you ready, Anjero?" Kamira asked, steering the conversation back on track.
"I'm a little nervous, but yeah, I am. Shinkei, are you sure you're good with fighting in this tournament at the end?"
"I should be fine. Plus, there's money involved," Shinkei replied with the practical wisdom of someone who had learned to find motivation in concrete rewards.
"OK, well, I'll see y'all tomorrow, ready to win for this school."
"Alright, everyone put your fist together," Kamira announced, standing up and extending her hand toward the center of their circle. "On six, we'll all say 'Seishin South,' OK?"
"OK," they replied, each placing their fist into the center.
"Six," Kamira started.
"Five," Mashū continued.
"Four," Romaji added.
"Three," Yoku called out.
"Two," Shinkei said.
"One," Anjero finished.
"SEISHIN SOUTH!" they shouted in unison, their voices carrying through the dormitory walls with enough enthusiasm to wake half the school.
As his teammates filed out of his room, each offering their own version of "good luck" and "see you tomorrow," Anjero felt something settle in his chest. The nervousness was still there, but it was now balanced by something stronger—the unshakeable knowledge that whatever they faced tomorrow, they would face it together.
Outside his window, the other guardian schools were arriving for the festival, their students settling into temporary housing around the campus. Some came from institutions with centuries of tradition and hundreds of successful missions. Others brought techniques and spirits that Seishin South had never encountered.
But none of them had what his team had—the bond forged through shared trauma, mutual respect earned through impossible odds, and the kind of trust that could only be built by watching someone risk their life for yours.
Tomorrow, they would discover if that was enough to make them champions.
Tonight, it was enough to let them sleep peacefully, knowing they were exactly where they belonged, with exactly the people they belonged with.
The festival would test their individual skills, but their greatest strength had always been that they were never truly individual at all.
They were Seishin South, and they were ready.
---
## EPILOGUE: THE CALM BEFORE
In his office, Hajime stood at the window, watching the last of the visiting schools settle in for the night. His reflection in the glass looked older than his years, marked by responsibilities and secrets that weighed heavier with each passing day.
"S.E.I.D., any updates on the search?" he asked quietly.
"Nothing yet, sir. The signal remains elusive."
"Keep monitoring. And if you detect any unusual spirit energy signatures during the festival..."
"You'll be the first to know, sir."
Hajime nodded, his gaze shifting to the dormitory where his students slept, blissfully unaware of the larger forces moving around them. Tomorrow's competition would be more than just a test of their abilities—it would be their introduction to a wider world of guardians, politics, and ancient conflicts they barely understood.
But tonight, they were still just students preparing for their first real competition.
He intended to keep it that way for as long as possible.
The war might be coming, but it wouldn't start on his watch, not during his festival, and not while his students still had the luxury of believing the world was a place where the greatest danger was losing a friendly competition.
Some innocence was worth protecting, even if it meant carrying the burden of truth alone.
The festival would begin tomorrow.
And with it, everything would change.