The courtyard was scattered with students going through the motions of a lazy morning—training bags slung over shoulders, breakfast still being chewed, conversations drifting in low, comfortable hums.

Yuji was mid-sentence, gesturing wildly about something that had happened in his last mission. Megumi had a book open, though his eyes weren't moving. Toge balanced an onigiri in one hand, pausing before a bite. Yuta stood near the training equipment, fingers resting idly on the hilt of his sword. Todo's laugh boomed across the stone path. Kamo stood just apart from the group, arms crossed, expression carefully neutral.

Then the gates creaked.

And everything stopped.

It wasn't dramatic—no slow-motion entrance, no wind-swept hair. Just a girl walking through the gate, a bag over her shoulder, eyes taking in the courtyard with quiet curiosity.

But it was the way she carried herself. The soft confidence in her step. The small, unbothered smile that played at the corner of her lips. The kind of presence that made the air around her feel just a little bit warmer.

Yuji forgot what he was saying. The sentence died somewhere between his brain and his mouth. His hands dropped to his sides, and for a solid three seconds, he just blinked.