From Chaos to Connection

Morning — A-Academy Training Grounds

The sun had barely climbed over the Academy walls when the four Guardians—Sora, Kaori, Mizuki, and Hikari—dragged themselves into the courtyard, hair tragic, eyes half-shut, clutching steaming mugs of tea like life support.

Sora yawned so loudly that even Daichi paused mid–push-up.

“Remind me why we’re awake at an hour that shouldn’t legally exist?” she muttered.

Ayame, perfect as ever even before sunrise, didn’t flinch. “Because the world won’t save itself.”

Sora squinted. “Pretty sure the world can wait until I’ve had breakfast.”

“Your breakfast was three rice crackers.”

“And a yogurt,” Sora added, deadly serious.

Ayame’s eye twitched. Once. Catastrophic.

Mizuki hugged her tea. “It’s… really early.”

Rei clapped his hands. “Warm-up run. Five laps.”

Sora’s soul left her body. “FIVE?! Are you trying to kill us?!”

Rei smiled like a man considering worse options. “Five is generous. I considered ten.”

Hikari giggled. “He’s enjoying this too much.”

Kaori sighed. “If I collapse, please bury me in the garden. Preferably near the hydrangeas.”

“You’re Earth,” Sora said. “Just merge with the ground.”

“That’s not how it works!” Kaori snapped.

Mizuki whispered, “It’s too early to merge with anything…”

As the others began their laps, Rei approached Mizuki. “You’ll start with defensive footwork today.”

“I trip a lot,” she admitted.

“That’s why we’re practicing,” he said, tone firm but gentle.

She tried a simple sidestep and immediately betrayed herself to physics. Her foot caught her heel. Balance wavered.

Rei moved faster than thought, catching her by the wrist and steadying her before she hit the ground. Their faces hovered inches apart.

“You’re improving,” he said quietly.

“I… tripped.”

“Yes. But with considerably more precision than yesterday.”

A blush crept across her cheeks.

Across the courtyard, Ayame watched the exchange. The wooden training staff in her hands cracked straight down the middle.

Morning — A-Academy Kitchen

Later, in the Academy's kitchen, two angels moved with absurd grace, preparing breakfast for the girls. The Guardians watched like they were witnessing a cooking documentary filmed by celestial beings—which, technically, they were.

Kaori timidly asked, “Um… do you… eat too?”

The angels exchanged a serene look.

“We can eat,” one said. “The experience is pleasant. But not necessary for survival.”

Sora narrowed her eyes. “So you can, but you don’t need to? Then what’s the point?”

One angel lifted a perfectly cut piece of tamagoyaki. “Your world values shared meals. We wished to honor that.”

The other leaned in, voice conspiratorial, and decidedly less dignified. “Also… salted caramel exists. Ignoring it would be… rude.”

The Guardians blinked.

“So angels have a weakness for sweets?” Kaori asked.

A discreet cough. “We do not call it a weakness.”

“More of an appreciation,” the other corrected.

Mizuki grinned. “Uh-huh. Appreciation. Totally believable.”

The angels returned to cooking with exaggerated composure, pretending sugar hadn’t just betrayed their dignity.

Afternoon Break — Academy Gardens

Sora dragged Kaori toward the koi pond.

“You’re Earth. Make the flowers dance or something.”

“That’s not—” Kaori hesitated. “Actually… maybe.”

She knelt, placing her hand on the soil. A ripple ran outward. Leaves rustled. A nearby bush shot upward, tripling in size like it had been waiting for an excuse.

Sora’s jaw dropped. “That was AWESOME.”

Kaori stared, horrified. “That was TERRIFYING.”

Mizuki clapped gently. “It was beautiful.”

Hikari sketched furiously. “Chaotic. I love it.”

Ayame arrived, rubbing her temples. “Tell me that noise wasn’t another training dummy exploding.”

“Nope!” Sora chirped. “Kaori summoned a kaiju bush!”

“Please don’t call it that,” Kaori whispered.

Ayame inhaled. Exhaled. Slowly. Very slowly.

After Lunch — Energy Control Lessons

Kaito stood like a poster child for composure. “Control your element with a calm mind.”

“Easy for you to say,” Kaori muttered.

Kaito ignored her. “Focus on the center of your chest. Breathe in. Breathe out.”

The girls closed their eyes. Silence. Stillness. Balance.

Then—

Sora sneezed.

A gust of wind blasted the room. Hikari’s hair shot straight up. Mizuki stumbled. Kaori landed in a potted plant.

Hikari stared at Sora, voice dangerously polite. “Bless you.”

Mizuki giggled. “Maybe we… start again?”

Kaito rubbed his temples. “…Yes.”

Theory Class — Evening

Arion-sensei stood at the front, glasses sliding down his nose, looking like a man who deeply regretted being awake.

“Chapter six: Angelic and Demonic Breeds and Their Signatures,” he began, tapping the board. Glowing diagrams unfolded: wings, claws, horns, shifting shapes.

Angels

“Repairers restore matter and infrastructure. Streets, buildings, shattered glass—all fixed.” – A broken section of pavement knitted itself back together.

“Erasers prevent panic from spreading. Their Memory Fog blurs traumatic events, leaving civilians intact.” – A misty figure dissolved into light.

“Shieldweavers redirect humans using illusions and spatial nudges, keeping bystanders safe.” – The diagram twisted into impossible corridors.

“Vanguard angels strike first in battle. They assess threats, engage enemies, and protect those behind them.” – A silhouette with blazing wings appeared, summoning a sword of light.

Arion glanced toward the window. “Among angels in the field, certain individuals—powerful and skilled—coordinate with the vanguard…”

A sudden clatter inside the classroom caught his attention. Hikari and Kaori were whispering and gesturing at each other, plotting some minor mischief.

Arion muttered under his breath, “Hikari… Kaori…? Quiet, please…”

After a soft shake of his head, he exhaled softly. “Anyway,” he continued, regaining his composure, “Daichi, Rei, Ayame, and Kaito are known for coordinating tactical operations during combat, ensuring the safety of those around them.”

Hierarchy

“Above vanguard angels are the angelic princes and princesses. They command units, manage strategies, and oversee operations within their territories.” Glowing figures appeared.

“At the highest level is Sovereign Hinako. She oversees the balance of the realms and ensures Earth’s safety.” – A radiant, regal silhouette shone on the board.

Demons

The lights dimmed.

“Screamers: unstable manifestations of despair and sound. Loud, chaotic, irritating.” – Half the class winced as the projection vibrated.

“Wraithbound: parasitic memory-eaters drawn to fear.” – Mizuki shivered.

“Corruptors: physical-class demons. Slow, heavy, dripping acidic sludge. Extremely unpleasant to clean.” – Sora grimaced. Kaori hid behind her notebook.

“Demon Generals: each commands a lower class, destabilizing entire districts.” – A towering figure distorted the projection.

“And at the top: demonic rulers. Ancient. Cataclysmic.” – Silence filled the classroom.

Arion cleared his throat. “Pages 112 to 198 for tomorrow. Yes, all of them.”

A groan rippled through the class. Arion ignored it.

Late Evening — Living Room Chaos

Hikari chopped vegetables with furious precision. Mizuki stirred soup, tasting as she went. Kaori set bowls, attempting order. And Sora… well, Sora incinerated toast. Again. Smoke curled into the air like tiny, judgmental ghosts.

Rei leaned against the doorway, keeping a safe distance. “Nope,” he muttered, voice calm but horrified.

Ayame appeared behind him, already pinching the bridge of her nose. “Why is the toaster smoking?”

“It’s possessed,” Sora said, eyes wide, voice ominous.

Ayame unplugged it. “It smells possessed.”

Kaori let out a soft, warm laugh—surprised at herself for laughing at the chaos. Mizuki giggled, tipping her spoon in the soup. Hikari shook her head, muttering, “This is… fine. Totally fine.”

Rei stayed in the doorway, observing from a safe distance. Every spill, every burnt toast, every slightly crooked bowl—it was chaos. Yet he saw it: the girls working together, laughing, helping, sometimes failing spectacularly, but never giving up. Their teamwork, awkward and messy, was forming something solid.

He allowed himself a faint, almost imperceptible smile. They were learning to trust each other.

If only Akihiro could find the fifth Guardian in time…

Ayame settled into an armchair, pretending to read but observing everything.

It felt… warm. Safe. Like the beginning of something real.

Outside the Academy — Same Night

Akihiro stood alone on the observation platform, wings folded, gaze sweeping Tokyo’s lights.

Four Guardians found. Four powers awakened. Four destinies intertwined.

And still… nothing. No pulse. No trace. No sign of the fifth.

His jaw tightened. He closed his eyes.

“We’re running out of time…”

A faint breeze brushed past him. A heartbeat. Almost there. Then gone.

Somewhere in Tokyo… someone stirred. Hidden. Powerful enough to shift everything.

Akihiro opened his eyes.

“We’ll find you.”