First Strikes

Days passed, like nothing happened.

Morning had come to Earth. Birds sang, and the school hallways echoed with laughter and chatter as Aihana and Miyu walked together. Aihana had no memories of the angel Akihiro, of battles, or of love—only a subtle emptiness sometimes tugged at her heart.

“Hey, did you dream those strange dreams again?” Miyu asked as they settled in class.

“No… not really. For a while, nothing. It’s like they just… disappeared,” Aihana replied, staring thoughtfully out the window.

“Huh, interesting. You said you always saw a girl with wings, right?”

“Yeah… but now I barely remember what she looked like. Like a scene from an old movie I once saw,” she murmured.

A brief shimmer of light flitted across the sky. Her chest tightened briefly, but she quickly shook her head. “Probably just a bird,” she whispered.

At A-Academy, Akihiro stood before a holographic map of Tokyo, red points blinking—demons appearing across the city.

“Demons attacking, Akihiro,” Rei reported.

Akihiro nodded sharply. “No casualties. Understood?”

The gentle tone he once carried was gone. He was calm, decisive, a natural leader. Yet as he glanced through the Control Hall window, a vague emptiness stirred in his chest—like something was missing.

“You okay?” Rei asked.

“Yeah… just a strange feeling. Like I’m searching for something… but I don’t know what,” he murmured.

Spreading his wings, Akihiro and his team vanished toward Tokyo.

Back at the schoolyard, afternoon sunlight painted the scene golden. Aihana shaded her eyes and looked at the sky. The air shimmered faintly. Her heart skipped—not with attraction, but with something like faint recognition, a spark of déjà vu, a whisper that the world had more to it than ordinary life.

Miyu nudged her. “Aihana? You okay?”

“Yeah… it’s just… the sky feels strange today,” she said, confused.

A new poster on the bulletin board caught her eye: Swordsmanship Club – Test your skills! Sign-ups open!

“Swordsmanship?” Miyu raised an eyebrow. “You should join—maybe you have hidden talent!”

“No thanks. I’d rather stick to a paintbrush,” Aihana replied with a small smile.

Later, students gathered around the wooden sword stands. The gym doors opened, and a transfer student entered, Ren Kaede, youth champion in swordsmanship. Dark hair slightly tousled, sharp eyes, confident movements.

The girls whispered excitedly, “That’s the new guy!”

Ren bowed slightly. “Maybe someone wants to try. Maybe someone’s better than me.”

Aihana watched him carefully. Something in the way he held the sword—his posture, the flow of his movements—strangely reminded her of someone else, someone she had forgotten. Her chest raced, and a flutter stirred in her heart.

She shook herself slightly, trying to ignore it. This… isn’t right, she thought. But the flutter lingered, and a confusing warmth spread through her.

Ren lifted a practice sword. The air around him seemed to shift. Aihana felt it—a subtle echo of a memory, like distant resonance running through her body.

Their eyes met for a fraction of a second, and time seemed to pause.

Her mind raced. Why does this feel… familiar?

When Ren sheathed his sword and turned to the crowd, Aihana’s gaze lingered. “Why do I feel like… I’ve seen him somewhere before?” she whispered to herself.

Miyu noticed. “You okay?”

“Yeah… just… a strange tingle, I guess,” Aihana murmured, still watching him. A tiny spark ignited within her—not for Ren—but for the forgotten echoes of someone else.

Miyu nudged her playfully. “Show him what you’ve got!”

Aihana took a deep breath and lifted a wooden sword. Her hands glimmered faintly, muscle memory guiding her. Ren noticed and raised an eyebrow.

They stepped onto the marked spot. Ren nodded. “First candidate. If it’s too much, tell me. I won’t strike hard.”

“Don’t worry,” she said, forcing a small smile.

Ren attacked. Aihana moved instinctively, precise and deliberate. Swords clashed with a sharp echo. Students stared—these were not beginner moves.

Ren paused, surprised. “Where… did you learn that?”

“I… don’t know,” she whispered. Her arms moved automatically, muscle memory, not thought.

A second strike, and she responded with swift precision, blocking and twisting her sword. Silence followed the near-collision at his shoulder.

Ren’s smile was quiet, enigmatic. “No need to explain. It’s just… interesting to see someone move like they’ve held a sword before.”

“I never have,” she said, shaking her head. But that strange, familiar pull remained, stirring an inexplicable ache.

She darted off, cheeks flushed. Miyu followed.

Ren caught up before she left the yard. “Hey, wait!” he said casually, eyes alert, curious.

Aihana blushed slightly, clutching her books. “I just… want to go.”

Ren raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got natural talent. I could show you a few tricks another day.”

Aihana inhaled, nodding. “Okay… but let’s not rush.”

Step by step, they walked across the yard. Ren’s stance was calm, measured, but Aihana felt that pull—a faint, inexplicable echo of someone she should remember, someone important. Her chest fluttered again, and she mistook the sensation for something more—but her mind still whispered: This… isn’t right.

Days passed. Akihiro fought demons with his team while Aihana stayed at school, practicing swordsmanship with Ren. She was fascinated by his skill, and her heart continued to race whenever Ren moved, but deep down—it wasn’t him she was drawn to. The pull was a memory, a trace of Akihiro she didn’t yet understand.

The next day, Ren caught Aihana and Miyu before they left. “Hey, Aihana. What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?”

Aihana blushed. “Uh… nothing special.”

“How about a movie? Just you and me,” Ren suggested, smiling.

Aihana shivered. No… this isn’t right, she thought. “M-movie…?” she whispered.

Ren stepped closer, calm and unthreatening. “Just a movie. I think it’d be fun.”

Miyu, nearby, stifled a squeal. “Ooooh, Aihana…”

Aihana looked at Ren—his calm, confident smile stirred something within her—but a voice whispered: You shouldn’t feel this way.

“Okay,” she said softly, still flushed. “Just a movie, right?”

Ren nodded, winking. “Of course. Just a movie.”

She looked away, heart racing. Miyu lightly tapped her hand. “This is going to be interesting!”

The next day, Akihiro was walking down the street in his human form, without umbrella, his eyes on the path, clearing his mind. Rain didn't bother him. In the same street, Aihana hurried to catch the bus, hood over her head, she collided with someone.

“Oh—sorry…” she gasped, stepping aside, rain splashing her face.

But her body froze for a split second. A strange pull tightened in her chest—wordless, familiar, gone as quickly as it came. She shook it off and sprinted for the bus doors before they closed.

Akihiro felt it too. The faint presence of someone forgotten, the echo of a connection he could not name. He froze, rain shimmering on his shoulders, oblivious to everything else.

Aihana stepped onto the bus, unaware that her path had touched a resonance in someone else, forgotten yet remembered by heart and energy.

Akihiro turned toward the departing bus, eyes narrowing, something deep inside him stirring in recognition he couldn’t yet name.