Two Weeks Later
Two weeks flew by unnoticed. Hiro had already grown used to life at the Academy—the noisy classrooms, endless discussions about magic, and the cautious stares of students who never stopped whispering about him.
That morning, he noticed an envelope on his desk. Sealed with the crest of the Triple Brotherhood. Hiro raised an eyebrow, broke the seal, and unfolded the letter.
"Hiro, brother, greetings!
It’s me—Katsu. Our people have already infiltrated the Magic Academy, you need to meet them. Go down to the dining hall and sit at the very last table; there will be a Brotherhood crest carved into the chair. The rest they’ll tell you themselves.
Wishing you good health and good luck—see you soon!"
Hiro couldn’t help but smile.
“Well, at least they haven’t forgotten about me,” he muttered.
He tucked the letter carefully into the drawer and stepped into the corridor.
---
On his way to the dining hall, he stumbled across a familiar trio: Elmar skipping along with a book in his hands, Martin beside him, and Lya at his side. They were engrossed in conversation, but then noticed Hiro.
“Oh! Hiro!” Martin called out first. “We were just talking about you.”
Hiro narrowed his eyes slightly.
“In a good way, I hope?”
Lya giggled, while Elmar added:
“Do you ever even go to the bathhouse?”
“The what?” Hiro asked blankly.
“You can’t be serious?” Martin slapped him on the shoulder. “We’ve never once seen you there!”
Hiro raised a brow.
“There’s a bathhouse here?”
Elmar sighed dramatically.
“And the great mystery of his strength is revealed. He trains nonstop and doesn’t even know about the bathhouse.”
“Of course there is,” Lya waved her hand. “To the left of the Academy, a little path leads right to it. It’s always crowded in the evenings.”
“So, shall we go today?” Martin smirked. “Relax a bit, take it easy—you’re always running around somewhere.”
Hiro gave a small smile and nodded.
“If you insist.”
“Perfect,” Martin said. “See you there, then.”
They parted ways, each going to their own business.
---
The dining hall wasn’t too crowded. A few students ate or chatted in corners; the air smelled of fresh bread and wine. Hiro’s eyes swept across the room until he saw it—the chair at the far end, marked with the tiny crest of the Triple Brotherhood.
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He sat down quietly. Almost immediately, a servant placed a glass of wine before him.
“Efficient,” Hiro murmured, lifting the glass.
At that moment, a girl slid into the seat beside him. Slender, with chestnut hair tied in a high ponytail, her lips curved into a sly smile.
“Good afternoon, Mister Nakamura,” she said sweetly.
“Hello,” Hiro replied flatly.
She reached out and touched his cheek. Hiro leaned back slightly, but her fingers brushed his skin. A faint pink glow spread where she touched, like a subtle barrier.
“Well, well,” she purred. “I’ve wanted to meet you for a while. You’re quite handsome.”
Her gaze slid down his body.
“And your build… hot.”
Hiro, without emotion, gently took her wrist and pushed her hand away.
“Thanks for the compliment. But what do you want?”
She tilted her head, her smile unbroken.
“I’m an informant. I work here and will be passing messages for you. So… anything unusual happen?”
Hiro took a slow sip of wine, testing the flavor, then said calmly:
“Everything’s quiet. Just ordinary days. Nothing special.”
She nodded, as if satisfied.
“Very well. If you need help or contact—come here. I’ll always be around.”
She rose to leave, but before walking out, she turned back and blew him a kiss.
Hiro smirked crookedly as he stood up.
“Ugh. She gives me chills,” he muttered, heading into the corridor.
---
That evening, Hiro followed the little path leading to the bathhouse. The air was fresh, filled with the scent of lavender and lilacs. Flowers lined both sides of the walkway, neatly kept, making it feel less like a bathhouse and more like the garden of nobility.
After a few minutes, he reached the single-story wooden building. Inside, warm steam greeted him, the creak of floorboards and the smell of hot water. Changing booths, benches, doors leading further in—but no people.
“They said it’d be crowded…” Hiro frowned.
A door opened behind him.
“H-Hiro…?” came a female voice.
He recognized it immediately. Without turning, he said:
“Lya. Hi. Where’s the others?”
He turned—and froze.
Lya stood there completely naked. Her arms crossed desperately over her chest and between her thighs, her face redder than a ripe apple.
“Oh… what—” Hiro stammered, his usual smile caught halfway.
“Turn around!” she squeaked.
Hiro spun instantly, staring at the wall.
“What are you doing here?!” her voice trembled between anger and panic.
“You guys invited me,” Hiro said nervously.
“But this is the women’s bath!” Lya shouted. “I told you to go left! You went right—this is the women’s side!”
“You didn’t specify from which side to look at the Academy!” Hiro argued.
“Of course—from the bridge facing the Academy!” she shot back.
“You have to measure from the Academy itself,” Hiro countered, half-laughing. “Like in a carriage: if you’re the passenger, your right hand’s the right, your left’s the left. But you were looking at the carriage from outside!”
There was a pause. Then suddenly, Lya burst out laughing.
“You… you’re right! Hahaha!”
Hiro smirked crookedly.
“See? Well, I’ll be going, then.”
He reached the door, opened it—only to bump into Rosaline.
Her eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed with cold fury.
“You?!” her voice was sharp as ice.
Hiro gave her a nervous smile.
“Just what I needed… you.”
Without waiting for her response, he slipped past her, practically sprinting away from the building.
Rosaline stood frozen, watching him vanish, as Lya’s muffled laughter echoed from inside.
---
The men’s bathhouse greeted Hiro with heavy steam and the sharp smell of hot stone. Voices could be heard beyond the wooden door.
“At last!” Martin raised a hand when Hiro entered. “You took your time.”
Hiro shot him a flat glance and replied:
“Got delayed on the way.”
The guys were already in towels. Hiro quietly undressed, revealing a sculpted, muscular body—broad chest, cut abs, shoulders carved like stone.
Elmar whistled.
“Whoa… damn, you’re in some shape.”
“And we thought you were just a bookworm,” Martin grinned. “Turns out you’re a beast.”
Hiro flexed slightly, his muscles tightening, as if to prove the point.
They all slipped into the hot water. At first it was bliss: warmth spreading, muscles relaxing. Martin leaned back against the edge with a sigh.
“Now this is living… no lessons, no worries. Just steam and peace.”
“Ha,” Elmar snorted. “Until the next exam.”
They started chatting about girls. Martin eagerly listed the ones he liked; Elmar recalled rumors about other classes. Hiro spoke little, but now and then a faint smile tugged at his lips.
Then Elmar pointed at the window.
“Look!”
Outside, a group of younger girls peeked in, cheeks flushed—whether from the heat or from excitement, no one knew.
“Hey! Get lost!” Martin shouted, springing to his feet.
The girls squealed with laughter and scattered.
“Shameless,” Martin muttered, though his eyes gleamed with pride.
The heat rose steadily. Steam thickened, the air burning in their lungs.
“Damn…” Elmar coughed, covering his nose. “My throat’s on fire…”
“Yeah, at least sixty degrees,” Martin wheezed. “I’m dying here.”
Hiro, however, sat perfectly calm, as if the water were cool. Eyes half-closed, relaxed.
“How can you…” Elmar groaned. “Are you even human?”
“As you see,” Hiro replied with a faint smirk.
They sat in silence for a while, sweat dripping down their faces.
Martin finally broke it with a chuckle.
“You didn’t scare the girls too bad in their bath, did you?”
Hiro froze, then smiled faintly.
“So… you knew.”
“We figured they gave you the wrong directions,” Elmar admitted, grinning. “But we didn’t say anything.”
Hiro sighed, stood up, water streaming down his body.
“Wanna play a game?”
In his hand appeared a translucent coin of ice, faint steam rising from it.
“Heads or tails?”
Martin and Elmar exchanged glances.
“Tails!” they shouted together.
Hiro flipped the coin. It spun in the torchlight, fell into the water. A perfect heads.
The next instant—the entire bath froze solid. Water cracked into glass-smooth ice, steam exploded into a cloud, the air turning frigid.
“WHAT THE—?!” Elmar screamed, trapped waist-deep in ice.
“Hiro! Hey!” Martin thrashed, but the ice held firm.
Hiro turned, calm as ever, and walked toward the exit.
“You’re not serious?!” Martin yelled. “Get back here!”
“Help!” Elmar howled.
But Hiro didn’t listen. The door shut behind him, muffling their shouts.
Martin clenched his teeth, stretching out a hand.
“Spell… Ignite!”
A tiny flame sparked, licking at the ice. It began to melt—painfully slowly.
Elmar rolled his eyes.
“We’re stuck here forever…”
Martin sighed heavily.
“Damn demon…”
Outside, under the cool evening air, Hiro walke
d calmly across the courtyard, not even glancing back. A sly grin tugged at his lips.
“Sweet revenge.”
