Chapter 76: Monday of Shadows

Monday morning.
The air over Tokyo carried a strange, heavy silence—like the city itself was holding its breath.

Kanata walked down the familiar street toward the academy, still lost in the thoughts that had kept him awake all night.

Founder of M.R.S.U.? Me? How…?

The words Kisaragi Aine had said during yesterday’s meeting kept echoing in his mind.

He rubbed the back of his neck.
“Great… another title I never asked for.”

“Kanata-sensei! Good morning!”

Rinko’s bright voice snapped him back to reality.
She waved, her silver-gray hair bouncing in the breeze.

Beside him, Elyana was nibbling cheerfully on a pack of chocolate biscuits Naomi had given her earlier.

“Good morning, Rinko-chan!” Elyana mumbled through crumbs.

Rinko tilted her head.
“Sensei, will there be combat practice today?”

Kanata blinked, still half in his thoughts.
“…Combat practice?”

Both girls looked worried.

“Sensei, are you sick?”
“You look pale,” Elyana added.

“No, I’m fine.” He forced a grin. “Just… thinking about something.”

Rinko leaned closer, teasingly.
“Maybe you’re excited because Princess Kaguya is joining our class today?”

Kanata froze.
“…She’s what?”

“You didn’t know?” Rinko explained eagerly.
“She officially enrolled on Friday! They say she wants to master sword-magic.”

Kanata groaned.
“Why do these things keep happening to me? I just wanted a quiet semester…”

When the trio entered the classroom, the usual chatter felt subdued.
Students whispered about the State of Emergency now active across Japan—mandatory temperature scans, mana-checks, and curfews.

Celestine entered soon after, her expression calm but watchful.
“How did the meeting go, Kanata-kun?”

He sighed.
“It went fine… except for a small argument with Commander Kisaragi.”

“That’s normal,” Celestine said gently. “You both care too much to agree easily.”

Kanata managed a faint smile.
Then he began today’s lecture—explaining how to manage mana output without exhausting one’s inner flow.
Rinko and Elyana listened intently, though Elyana kept snacking under the desk.

Halfway through, Kanata glanced at the attendance list.
“Good. Princess Kaguya isn’t here today.”

He almost sighed in relief.

According to staff reports, Kaguya’s family had forbidden her to leave the Kurenai estate until the situation stabilized.
For now, peace—if only temporary—returned to the classroom.

By noon, the cafeteria buzzed with anxious murmurs.
Kanata sat at his usual table, staring blankly at his untouched food.

Across from him, Asuna appeared with a tray full of sweets.
“Kanata-kun, you look gloomy. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing serious.”
He poked at his rice half-heartedly.

Asuna frowned.
She knew that look.
The same one he had worn before every battle.

“It’s about Anvill, isn’t it?”

He didn’t answer—but he didn’t have to.

Her tone softened.
“I heard about the concert cancellations. The media’s calling it the ‘Frozen Silence.’”

Rinko, sitting nearby, couldn’t resist.
“Serves you right for being too popular!”

Before she could laugh again, Elyana pinched her ear.

“Stop that! It’s not funny to laugh at someone else’s misfortune.”

“O-ouch! Okay, okay, I’ll stop!”

The small commotion broke the tension for a moment.
Then Asuna leaned closer.

“Kanata-kun, talk to us. What’s really on your mind?”

Kanata took a deep breath.

“I keep wondering… if Tokyo will end up like Anvill. If that Necromancer is still alive—what’s stopping him from turning this city into another graveyard?”

The table fell silent.

After a moment, Asuna reached out, her voice gentle yet steady.

“Then remind yourself of this: everyone loses something. What makes us different is what we do after the loss.”

Kanata stared at her—then, slowly, smiled.

“You sound like my mother.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Outside the academy walls, Tokyo moved with quiet precision.
M.R.S.U. units patrolled every district—black uniforms gleaming under floodlights.
At the airports and harbors, soldiers in hazmat suits scanned passengers with glowing mana-sensors.

Helicopters circled the skyline.
Drones floated above intersections, projecting warnings across digital billboards:

NATIONAL EMERGENCY IN EFFECT — COOPERATE WITH M.R.S.U. AUTHORITIES!

Children pressed against apartment windows, watching the armored convoys roll past.
The world was changing again—
and somewhere deep in his chest, Kanata could feel it.

Something cold.
Something old.
Stirring beneath the city’s surface.