Chapter 4 – Close Encounters & a Dangerous Promise

The morning after the duel felt oddly quiet.
News of Kanata’s victory had spread like spilled tea; by the time he reached his usual study table, half the academy already knew his name.

He slumped into the chair next to Rio, dropping his bag with a thud.

Perfect, he thought. Now everyone will watch my every move. This is exactly what I wanted.
He did not mean it.

Rio pushed his glasses up and grinned.

“So? You survive the morning after?”
“Barely. I think half the school is plotting my autograph schedule.”

They laughed, until a shadow fell across the table.

“Excuse me—may I sit?”

Kanata looked up. There she was again: Celestine Vairne, hair like fresh snow, eyes like soft gold, posture as if the world owed her something. She held herself with that aristocratic air that made half the students melt and the other half glare.

Rio choked on his tea.

“Uh—of course.”

Celestine took the chair opposite them and set down a small box of pastries as if it were a gift to the world. She leaned in with an expression decidedly more honest than Kanata expected.

“Listen, Tendou Kanata.”
“Yes?” Kanata answered, wary.
“I want to be Student Council President.”

Kanata blinked.

This is not the usual opening line.

“That’s… ambitious.” Rio said.
“And why does that involve me?”

Celestine tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, slightly embarrassed for a second—an odd sight.

“My parents expect results. They think I’m talented, and I want to show them I’m more than just a name. To do that… I need a strong track record. Stamps are proof of influence. If I gather enough recognition, I can claim the Council’s seat.”

Kanata’s interest—though he would never admit it—flickered.

“So? You beat me, isn’t that proof?”

She shook her head, lowering her voice.

“The rules here aren’t that simple. To officially withdraw from the academy, one must gather five Stamps. Not four. Five.”
“Five?” Rio repeated, surprised.
“Yes. Four from the classes—and the final one, the Academy Key, is only granted by unanimous acknowledgement of the Four Witches.”

Kanata frowned.

Wait, I thought it was four…

Celestine met his gaze, sudden seriousness settling on her face.

“And before you ask—no, I don’t have them all either.”
“You don’t?” Kanata asked. He could hear the hope curl at the edge of his voice.
“I have little power in certain areas. I can’t collect every stamp alone.”

She looked embarrassed again, then laughed softly.

“So, I’ll be blunt. Help me? I help you. You help me build status, and I will help you gather the stamps you need to leave.”

Rio choked on his tea again—this time for a different reason.

“Is she… proposing a contract?”
“It’s a partnership, not a marriage contract!” Celestine snapped lightly, though her cheeks colored faintly.

Kanata stared at her, one eyebrow raised.
Of all absurd offers…
But the math was simple. He wanted out. She wanted status. Mutual benefit. No strings.

“Fine.” He shrugged. “I’ll deal with your popularity. You keep an eye on the Student Council stuff.”
“Perfect.” Celestine’s smile was bright enough to make the other students around them gasp.

Word spread fast. By lunch, half the cafeteria had opinions, and the other half had started making bets.

Over the following days, Celestine became inexplicably closer to Kanata.
Not hostile; not exactly romantic at first—just uncomfortably present. She would appear where he studied, offer to share snacks, and—most dangerously—stand beside him in the hallway as if the world had suddenly been rearranged around them.

Students watched. Teachers tried not to watch. Jealous whispers bloomed.

“She’s acting like his girlfriend!”
“Is this for show or…?”
“If she’s courting the whole academy, she’s doing a brilliant job.”

One afternoon, during a casual study session, Celestine bit into a pastry and suddenly blurted:

“Maybe one day I’ll marry you.”

The room exploded.

“HEEEEY!” girls screamed in chorus.
“What does she mean?!” a boy shouted.
“You—Kanata—are the worst!” someone yelled, half in envy, half in theatrical rage.

Kanata froze.
Did she just—?
He opened his mouth, closed it, and tried to look nonchalant.

Rio facepalmed so hard Kanata heard the sound.

“Celestine-san, please—don’t say things like that out loud. People will assume—”
“Assume what?” Celestine asked, doll-like innocent. “That I’m serious? Maybe I am. Why is that so scandalous?”

The students around them shrieked again. Some clapped. Some fainted. Someone in the back fainted theatrically and then sat up to watch more closely.

Kanata muttered low enough for only Rio to hear.

“You ruin my life.”
“No, you volunteered for this.” Rio whispered back.

Meanwhile, above in the towers, the Four Witches gathered.

Nagisha, true to form, crossed her arms and smirked.

“They’re… so loud.”

Aine toyed with a charm, clearly entertained.

“She’s actually trying to drag him into her campaigns.”

It’suha, leaning on the balcony rail, chuckled.

“This could be fun. If she’s serious about making him hers, I’ll enjoy watching how she handles it.”

But under the casual banter, the tone shifted: strategizing began.

“He’s not just a novelty,” Nagisha said quietly. “He broke the orb, and his power—raw and unpredictable—changes the balance.”
“We either control him,” Aine mused, “or we cut him off before he becomes a problem.”

For the witches, the stakes were simple: influence, control, and the School’s delicate hierarchy.

Back at the study table, Celestine nudged Kanata’s shoulder and winked.

“Promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“Don’t run away before I get to be proud of you.”

Kanata blinked.
Pride? From her?
He felt something uncomfortably warm and vague inside his chest.

“Alright,” he said finally, and the word came out quieter than he intended.
“But don’t expect too much.”

Celestine smiled and leaned back, nibbling another pastry, satisfied.

That night, as he lay on his dorm bed, Kanata thought of the deal he had made. A stepping stone, he told himself. Use her, she uses you—then leave.

But sleep did not come easy. Outside his window, the city’s mana shimmered, whispering like the distant echo of a dragon.

Some bargains are easy to make, he thought, and much harder to break.