Awake in the Night

A-Academy – Night Garden

The Academy gardens lay in silver tranquility, moonlight spilling over hedges and paths, casting long, delicate shadows. Aihana wandered among the hedged walkways, restless, sleep eluding her. Her thoughts churned over the night before—had Akihiro really been there? Or had it been a dream shaped by her fears?

Near a quiet fountain, she paused, the gentle trickle of water filling the still night.

Footsteps approached, soft and deliberate. She turned. Akihiro walked beside Rei, who gave a polite nod before slipping away into the shadows, leaving her alone with Akihiro.

“Akihiro…” she whispered, heartbeat quickening. “Were you… really there last night? When I… when I told you about my dreams?”

His green eyes met hers, steady, professional. “I was,” he confirmed softly. “And you told me everything.”

Relief and a strange warmth surged through her chest. “I… I can’t sleep,” she admitted, voice barely above the fountain’s trickle.

A faint, almost playful smile tugged at his lips. “I think I know one solution.”

She blinked at him. “Oh? And what might that be?”

“Perhaps… a little extra training,” he said, voice calm but edged with quiet amusement. “Half an hour. I promise—you’ll sleep the moment you’re done.”

Aihana’s lips quirked in a tiny, determined smile. “Then… I accept your challenge.”

He inclined his head, expression professional. “Good. Follow me.”

Moonlight traced their path as they moved toward the training grounds. The night was still, but her heart was not—racing with anticipation, curiosity, and the unspoken tension between them.

A-Academy – Night Training

The hall gleamed silver under moonlight filtering through high windows. Polished floor reflected faint sparks of lingering energy. Aihana gripped her sword tightly, every sense alert.

“Focus on technique,” Akihiro said, maintaining a formal, professional posture. “And flow.”

Aihana nodded, but nerves made her movements slightly uneven. She shifted, adjusting her stance, and stumbled.

Akihiro reacted instantly, catching her with both hands. She collided with him, chest brushing against his. Time froze for a heartbeat—hearts pounding, a silent charge passing between them.

She pulled back quickly, cheeks burning. Impossible… angels and humans… this can’t mean anything.

“Balance first,” he said, voice even, precise, yet a tension lingered beneath the words. “Then focus.”

She nodded, gripping her sword tighter, pushing the fleeting warmth away.

As the training continued, Aihana tested her sword energy, letting a faint glow spiral around her strikes. Akihiro mirrored her movements, subtle blue-white sparks pulsing from his blade to meet hers, blocking and redirecting her force effortlessly.

Every strike, every feint, every step was measured—outwardly disciplined, inwardly charged. Aihana’s energy flared with each swing, testing the limits of her control. Akihiro held a professional composure, but his eyes lingered too long on her posture, the faint glow radiating from her, the way her focus sharpened with every touch of her energy. Professional… he reminded himself.

She stumbled again, barely keeping balance. Akihiro’s hands steadied her instantly, chests brushing. For a heartbeat, both froze, the night stretching infinitely around them.

“I… I’m fine,” she whispered.

“Focus,” he replied, outwardly calm. Inside, his chest tightened. I cannot let this distract me… She must remain safe. Professional. Distance.

Aihana turned back to practice. Each strike now sharper, more precise. Frustration mingled with exhilaration, energy flowing with a pulse she could barely contain. Akihiro’s corrections guided her subtly, reinforcing control and flow, his presence a tether, both stabilizing and disconcerting.

The night stretched on, every swing a careful dance of discipline and unspoken tension, an invisible thread of awareness weaving between them, unacknowledged yet undeniable.

Finally, Akihiro lowered his sword, nodding. “That’s enough for tonight. You’ve done exceptionally well.”

Aihana sank to her knees, chest heaving, cheeks flushed with exertion and exhilaration. Slowly, she smiled. “If I don’t sleep now… I don’t know when I ever will.”

Akihiro’s expression remained composed, professional, a quiet warmth in his gaze. “Then go to your room. Rest. You’ve earned it.”

She picked up her sword, carefully replacing it in its rack, then headed toward her room, the night’s tension and exertion settling into a tired, satisfying exhaustion.

He watched her until she disappeared around the corner, maintaining a flawless, professional facade. Inside, however, his chest still thrummed with unsteady rhythms and thoughts that refused to remain calm.

A-Academy – Night, Aihana’s Room

Aihana’s eyelids fluttered as the dreams returned, vivid and relentless. Shadows twisted around her, whispers of fear and foreboding scraping at her mind. Her chest tightened, breath coming in sharp gasps.

“Ahhh!” she screamed, the sound tearing through the quiet night.

The noise startled the other girls in the dormitory. Within moments, Mizuki, Kaori, and Sora burst into her room, eyes wide with concern.

Before they could reach her bedside, a flash of light appeared on the balcony. Akihiro leapt over gracefully, landing with perfect precision. His presence filled the room, calm yet commanding.

“Girls,” he said, his voice low and steady. “Go back to your rooms. Everything is under control. Sleep.”

The girls hesitated for a moment, exchanging uneasy glances, then obeyed, retreating quietly, reassured by his calm authority.

Aihana blinked up at him, still trembling. “Akihiro… the dreams…”

He knelt beside her bed, letting a hand hover near hers, just enough to radiate reassurance. “Sleep,” he said firmly, though softly. “I am here. The nightmares will not reach you. You are safe with me.”

Her breath hitched. Then, with sudden clarity, she whispered, almost shyly: “How many times… have you been by my side?”

He met her gaze, green eyes calm and steady, voice quiet but firm. “I do not count, Aihana. But whenever I can, I am here. To make sure the nightmares cannot reach you. Now… sleep.”

She stared at him, heart pounding, sensing the gravity of his words—and then, after a pause, she asked, almost teasingly, “And you? Do you… sleep?”

A faint, knowing smile curved his lips. “Sleep… is unnecessary for us.”

Aihana exhaled, the tension in her chest slowly loosening. Her eyes drifted closed, the warmth of his presence settling over her like a shield. The nightmares had faded, and for the first time in nights, she felt a fragile sense of peace.

And as her breathing evened, the faint, silver glow of energy lingered in the room—a silent promise that she was not alone, that whatever came in dreams or waking hours, she would not face it without him.