New day. Last exam. The massive inflatable mascot was still floating in the sky. Some of the decorations were missing but the atmosphere was still the same. Tense and competitive.

  Kurogane arrived at the entrance with his backpack slung over one shoulder, his hair even more disheveled than usual. Dark circles had deepened under his eyes and his uniform shirt was slightly wrinkled, as if he'd thrown it on in a hurry.

  Kazama and Haruto were already waiting near the main gate. Kazama leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. Haruto stood beside him, hands in his pockets, casually observing the flow of students passing by.

  When Kurogane approached, Haruto's eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. "How come you're late today and Kazama's on time?" He glanced between them, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Did the world flip upside down?"

  Kurogane rubbed his eyes roughly with his palms, then let his hands drop to his sides. "I just kept thinking about yesterday's exams." His voice was hoarse, tired. "And then I kind of stayed up late studying for this one as well."

  Haruto tilted his head, confused. "Why? This one's easy."

  "For you, yes." Kurogane's tone carried a note of frustration, though it wasn't directed at Haruto specifically.

  "I told you, right?" Haruto said with an encouraging smile. "It's all about interest. If you're interested in the subject, it doesn't feel like work."

  Kurogane shifted his weight, adjusting his backpack strap. "Well, I'm interested in the fact that you get more marks than that nerd Akito."

  The smile faded slightly from Haruto's face. "Why do you hate him so much? He's harmless. Just a quiet guy who likes heroes."

  Before Kurogane could respond, Kazama spoke up. "Maybe because Akito's better than Kurogane."

  The words hung in the air for a moment.

  Kurogane's head snapped toward Kazama, his expression darkening. "Hey!" His voice rose defensively. "I just don't like him, man. He's all about..." He gestured wildly with his hands, mimicking someone talking. "'Hey, I know everything about heroes and you don't, hahaha, here are the facts.'" He paused. "But A, he's not even the topper and B, he only talks about superheroes and their stupid conspiracies."

  Kazama's expression didn't change. His voice remained calm, almost clinical. "He's just sticking to his interests. Not everyone is like you, Kurogane." He paused deliberately. "Extroverted, athletic and..."

  "And?" Kurogane prompted, his eyes narrowing.

  "A clown," Kazama finished.

  A silence followed.

  Kurogane's jaw tightened. He took a step forward, then another, closing the distance between them until they were nearly face to face. The tension crackled like static electricity. His fists clenched at his sides, trembling slightly not with the intention to strike but with barely restrained emotion.

  "You've been defending the likes of Akito and Kuronami," Kurogane said, his voice low and intense. "Even against someone like me. Someone who you claim to be your friend."

  Kazama didn't flinch. He held Kurogane's gaze steadily, his own expression unmoved. "There's no particular type I'm defending. You're just wrong."

  "Guys, calm down." Haruto stepped between them, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. His voice carried a note of genuine concern now. "Come on. This isn't…"

  "Wrong about what?" Kurogane demanded, his voice rising further. His face had flushed red, whether from anger or embarrassment, it was hard to tell.

  Kazama's tone remained steady, but there was an edge to it now. "This attitude. You're my friend. And I don't want my friend to be an asshole." He paused, letting the word land. "Not to me or to anyone. And you're being one right now."

  Kurogane's mouth opened, then closed. For a moment, he looked like he had been slapped. His eyes widened slightly then narrowed again.

  "Alright, alright. It's done." Haruto's voice took on a more forceful tone, trying to regain control of the situation. "Kazama, you're right. And Kurogane will work on that." He looked pointedly at Kurogane, silently pleading for him to back down.

  But Kurogane said nothing.

  He stared at Kazama for another long moment, his fists still clenched. Then without a word, he turned sharply on his heel. He lifted his bag higher onto his shoulder and walked off with his footsteps heavy and deliberate. He didn't look back.

  Haruto watched him go, his expression caught between concern and resignation. "He'll be fine."

  Kazama's gaze followed Kurogane's retreating figure, his brow furrowing slightly. "That's what I'm worried about." His voice was softer now, almost contemplative. "He's been acting like a bully these days."

  Haruto shifted uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck. "Could it be... I don't know, hormones or something?"

  Kazama turned to give him a sharp, withering stare.

  "I don't know," Haruto admitted quickly, backing down.

  "Let's just get done with the exam. It's the last one among the written tests", Kazama sighed.

  ************************************************************************************************************************

  Kurogane walked ahead with a constant flow of thoughts.

  This Kazama. Who does he think he is? His hands tightened around his backpack straps. I mean, we've been friends for a couple of years and we have always hung out together. We have had each other’s back and I used to think that would always be the case.Yet he's taking their side. Those losers. Akito and whoever, Kuronami or whatever.

  A small memory flickered behind his eyes, uninvited.

  He saw himself a couple of years younger, standing frozen in front of a shattered glass door. He had kicked the football too hard, sent it sailing over the fence and heard the sharp crack as it smashed clean through the veranda glass. His friends had turned pale instantly.

  “We are so screwed,” one of them whispered.

  “You are so good at everything in football. How are you so bad at free kicks Kurogane!”, another said.

  They were already planning who would run and who would take the blame when Kazama just happened to pass by on the street with hands in his pockets, looking bored. He didn't say anything but started staring at the group of boys panicking over broken glass.

  One of the boys noticed Kazama walking by and hissed. “Oi… what if we just blame him? He barely talks anyway. And it's ten of us.”

  “No… It was my shitty free kick because of which we are here. You guys are trying to protect me because I am a starter on the team but that doesn't matter now.” He paused and then continued. “I have heard he is good with science and stuff so let's see if he can help.”

  Kurogane walked towards Kazama. Kazama noticed this but remained neutral with his expression. He turned to face Kurogane.

  “Hey! Can you help us please? We broke this glass and don't know what to do!” Kurogane said with his hands joined. “I have heard that you are good with science. So maybe some science magic?”

  “What powers do you have?” Kazama asked.

  “Something to do with sand. I don't know how that would be helpful”, Kurogane said with a sad smile.

  Kazama stared at the mess for a moment and then smirked. “Relax. We can fix it.”

  Kurogane didn't understand at first. But he followed Kazama as they walked towards the broken glass door.

  "Carefully pick up the larger pieces. Don't cut yourself," Kazama said, crouching down. He used a wooden plank to shift some of the shattered fragments aside, examining which pieces were still intact enough to use.

  They worked together, gathering the bigger shards, others jagged and palm-sized. Kazama arranged them back into the doorframe one row at a time, leaving gaps where the glass had splintered too finely to salvage.

  "Now pour sand into the cracks. Fill every gap between the pieces," Kazama instructed, positioning himself beside the door.

  Kurogane started pouring sand carefully along the seams where broken edges met. Thin arcs of electricity began to dance between Kazama's fingers, the air warming around them. He angled the heat toward the sand-filled cracks. The boys around them watched in awe.

  Heat met sand. The particles fused. The jagged seams melted together, binding the fragments into a single sheet. The improvised glass wasn't perfect but it held and smoothed into something whole again.

  When it was done, Kazama dusted off his hands. "See? Easy. Try not to suck next time."

  Kurogane laughed. His friends laughed. And just like that, their friendship had begun.

  The memory blinked out.

  Back in the present, he kicked a small rock on the path, watching it skitter ahead.

  “Fuck them,” he muttered. “I’m on my own from now on.”

  The thought felt both liberating and hollow at the same time.

  ************************************************************************************************************************

  The exam hall was quieter than the previous day. The atmosphere felt different. Less frantic, more somber. Students filed in with tired expressions, settling into their seats without the usual nervous chatter.

  This was no ordinary test.

  While other schools had standard history exams covering wars, political movements and cultural shifts, this exam was unique to hero academies. It tested knowledge on topics like the history of superheroes, the formation of the Hero Organization, the rise and fall of notorious supervillains and the evolution of hero policy over generations.

  Kazama sat in his assigned seat, waiting for the papers to be distributed. His mind was still partially on the conversation outside but he forced himself to focus.

  This may not be my strongest subject, but as Haruto said, it's all about interest. And who isn't interested in heroes?

  The exam papers were handed out face-down. The invigilator. A different one this time, an older man with graying hair and a stern but not unkind face, stood at the front.

  "You may begin."

  Kazama flipped the paper over and scanned through the questions.

  His eyes paused briefly.

  As expected, no questions on Kurotsuki Mafia. He'd half-anticipated seeing at least one, given how widely known they were even if people rarely spoke about them openly. I guess the questions would be too political. The school doesn't want to involve the ongoing mess with academics.

  He moved on.

  Question 1: Describe the rise of Yoshikawa Rejin, the First Generation hero to achieve World Rank 1. What were his key contributions to the establishment of the Hero Organization and how did his philosophy differ from those who came after him?

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  Haruto read the question and felt a familiar thrill of excitement run through him. This was his element. This was what he'd stayed up late reading about not out of obligation, but genuine passion.

  This is easy.

  Yoshikawa Rejin. Head of the Rejin family. Wielder of the Imperial Storm Dragon sword, possessing the powers of wind and storm. His abilities were unmatched in his era. He was the first person to achieve World Rank 1 in the Hero Rankings managed by the Hero Organization.

  He brought true law and order under his reign. No one dared to challenge him. Not because of fear alone, but because of respect. His philosophy was strict and uncompromising. A representation of true justice, where right and wrong were clear, where there was no room for moral ambiguity.

  He paused, re-reading what he had written, then continued.

  Now that's what I think. I just need to put it into proper words for this exam.

  Question 2: Hisashi the Hound was both feared and respected. Explain how his actions during the Eastern War changed global hero policy.

  Akito adjusted his glasses, pushing them up the bridge of his nose as he read the question. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. This was exactly the kind of question he loved. One that required understanding the darker, more complex aspects of hero history.

  Hisashi wasn't a hero in shining armor. He was a bloodhound.

  He hated villains with a visceral intensity that bordered on obsession. He didn't just defeat them. He slaughtered them. And when other heroes tried to intervene, tried to rein him in, he got in their faces too. He showed no deference to authority and no respect for protocol.

  Akito paused, thinking carefully about how to phrase the next part.

  His actions became so extreme, so uncontrollable, that the Hero Organization was forced to create stricter laws to regulate hero conduct. They implemented oversight committees, established rules of engagement and defined acceptable use of force. Hisashi the Hound single-handedly reshaped the entire legal framework governing heroes.

  He read over his answer, satisfied. I think this would be a good start. I just need to word it properly.

  Question 3: Compare the leadership of Yoshikawa Rejin and the Second Generation hero Tensei Soryu in terms of their views on justice and control.

  Kurogane stared at the question, but the words seemed to blur together.

  Man, I can't think straight after that conversation with Kazama and Haruto.

  His leg bounced under the desk, a nervous habit. His mind kept replaying the argument.

  Maybe they're right. I was being a jerk and I think I should apologize after the exam.

  He tried to focus on the question, reading it again.

  This exam is booboo anyways.

  Then another thought intruded: Or maybe I shouldn't apologize. Because I need to have some self-respect. I mean, I didn't like the way Kazama talked to me. He could have worded things better. And Haruto sided with him.

  He tapped his pen against the desk unconsciously. Some more memories started flowing in. Their study session. Their united front against the bullies. The jokes.

  But they also helped me study. They've been good friends. I just... Ughhh.

  His eyes drifted back to the question.

  Man, why is Tensei Soryu dancing in my head right now?

  He couldn't focus. The words on the page might as well have been written in a foreign language. His concentration was completely shattered.

  Meanwhile Kazama worked through the questions one by one, his answers thorough and well-structured. He moved through the history of various heroes, their philosophies, their contributions and failures.

  Then he reached Question 10.

  Question 10: Shirai Takeru has been one of the rising heroes in Japan over the past 3 years. What can we learn from him?

  Kazama stopped. His pen hovered over the page.

  Should I skip this question?

  He checked the breakdown at the top of the section. Each question was worth different amounts based on complexity and depth required.

  Six marks for this fraud of a hero?

  His jaw tightened. The memory flashed through his mind unbidden. That night when he confronted him after the showdown in the alley. That day when he showed up at his school with an official summoning.

  I could write what the textbooks say. What the media says. What everyone believes.

  But the thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

  He stared at the question for another moment, then made a decision. He wrote a brief, factual answer listing Shirai Takeru's public accomplishments, his ranking and his abilities. Nothing personal. Nothing that revealed what he knew.

  But nothing that praised him either.

  He moved on.

  In another exam room, Takemi was lost in thoughts at the same question.

  Question 10: Shirai Takeru has been one of the rising heroes in Japan over the past 3 years. What can we learn from him?

  Her pen paused mid-sentence from the previous question.

  I know how great of a hero Shirai Takeru is supposed to be. She bit her lower lip, her brow furrowing. But after what I saw that night...

  The memory surfaced unwillingly. The way he had moved through the scene, the deliberate destruction of evidence, the men who looked exactly like the gangsters her friend's sister had described with trembling hands and fearful eyes.

  The way he destroyed everything. The way he helped people who looked like... like criminals.

  She had a memory flash.

  "You've got potential, kid," Takeru said, ruffling her hair. "You said you want to be a hero ? One day you'll be protecting people just like me."

  She exhaled slowly, forcing her mind back to the present.

  I still don't know why he did that. Maybe there's an explanation. Maybe there's context I'm missing.

  She wrote her answer carefully, professionally. She listed his achievements, his rapid rise through the rankings and his public service record. She wrote about dedication and perseverance.

  But her heart wasn't in it. The words felt hollow.

  Kazama continued through the exam until he reached the final question.

  Question 12: History remembers names, not faces. But every hero's story begins as someone ordinary. In your opinion, what defines a hero's legacy? Power, purpose, or the people they inspire?

  He set his pen down for a moment, staring at the question.

  A hero's legacy, huh?

  His mind drifted through the names he had just written about. Names that had become legend.

  Everyone remembers Yoshikawa Rejin for his leadership, his absolute power, his respect for culture and tradition. He created order from chaos.

  Hisashi the Hound. Violent, uncontrollable but he had his way of doing things. He forced the system to change, to adapt and to become better.

  Shinobu the Diamond Princess. Ruthless and unforgiving in battle, yet she used to donate literal diamonds for charity. Built hospitals, funded food programs, established schools. She was both feared and beloved.

  Kazama's fingers drummed lightly on the desk.

  I wonder what kind of legacy I'll leave behind.

  The thought came unbidden, uncomfortable in its honesty.

  Is the path I've chosen correct? Does it have any legacy at all? Or will I just be another name lost to time, someone who tried and failed, someone who thought they were doing the right thing but was just...

  He stopped himself, shaking his head slightly to clear it.

  Focus. Answer the question.

  He picked up his pen and began writing, his answer careful and measured. He wrote about how legacy was built not through power alone but through the choices a hero made when no one was watching. How purpose without action was meaningless, but action without purpose was dangerous. How the people a hero inspired would carry their values forward long after the hero was gone.

  But part of him wondered if he believed it.

  Meanwhile Kurogane couldn't take it anymore.

  The conflicting thoughts, the inability to focus and the weight of the argument pressing down on him like a physical thing. It was too much.

  He glanced at his paper. Maybe seventy percent complete. Some questions answered well and others barely touched.

  I can't do this right now.

  He raised his hand.

  The invigilator looked up, raising an eyebrow. "Yes?"

  "I'm done," Kurogane said quietly.

  "You're submitting early?"

  "Yes, sir."

  The man walked over, took Kurogane's paper and examined it briefly. He said nothing about the blank spaces. Just nodded. "You may leave."

  Kurogane stood, grabbed his bag and walked out. The door closed behind him with a soft click.

  The hallway was empty, echoing with his footsteps. He descended the stairs slowly. His mind felt both too full and completely empty at the same time.

  As he rounded the corner near the second-floor landing, he nearly collided with someone.

  "Oh shit, it's Tachibana," the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them.

  Takemi turned sharply, her eyes widening in surprise. "Excuse me? What do you mean by that?"

  She had finished her exam early as usual and had been heading outside for some fresh air. Now she stood there, hands on her hips, one eyebrow raised.

  Kurogane's face flushed. "Nothing! I was just thinking..." He scrambled for a recovery. "'Oh, it's Tachibana, it's been so long since we talked even though we live like two blocks apart.' Yeah, I was thinking about that."

  Takemi's expression remained skeptical. "Didn't seem like it." Her tone was dry, almost amused. "It was more like, 'Hey, I saw her, now my day's gonna go bad.' Something like that."

  Kurogane's shoulders sagged. The fight went out of him. "My day's already going bad," he admitted quietly.

  Takemi's expression softened slightly. "The exam?"

  They began walking together and an unspoken agreement passed between them. They headed toward the stairs, then out toward the school grounds.

  "Nah." Kurogane shoved his hands into his pockets, his gaze fixed on the ground. "It's just... it's that stupid Kazama."

  "What about him?" Takemi asked, with genuine curiosity in her voice now.

  "We got into a little bit of a quarrel before the exam." Kurogane's voice was tight, strained. "And I feel conflicted."

  They stepped outside into the courtyard. A few other students who had finished early were scattered across the grounds. Some reviewing notes, others just lying in the grass, staring at the sky.

  Takemi and Kurogane found a bench near the edge of the courtyard, partially shaded by a large tree. They sat down, leaving a comfortable distance between them.

  "Oh." Takemi turned slightly to face him, her expression thoughtful. "What was it about? And why do you feel that way?"

  Kurogane rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes still avoiding hers. "I don't know, like..." He paused, searching for words. "Maybe it was stupid. I just didn't like the way Kazama talked to me." He finally looked up, meeting her gaze. "I mean, now I do realize I was in the wrong when we had the argument but I feel like he could have worded things in a better way."

  Takemi nodded slowly, processing this. "Well, if you were wrong, then why not apologize?" Her voice was gentle. "Maybe now that the exam is over and Kazama-kun has had some time to think, maybe he'll apologize as well for the way he said his part."

  "That's what I was thinking about." Kurogane leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "But Kazama... he rarely opens up. He's like this..." He gestured vaguely with his hands, trying to articulate something he couldn't quite grasp. "I don't know... sometimes an emotionless being with intelligence. Like a robot."

  Takemi's expression shifted. Not quite a disagreement but something more nuanced. "I don't think so." Her voice was thoughtful, measured. "Whenever I've talked to him, it feels like he puts a lot of thought into his words. And even if he has an impulsive response, he's able to justify it. There's always reasoning behind what he says."

  Kurogane looked at her, really looked at her, for the first time in the conversation. Something in his expression shifted. Recognition and understanding. "Well, now that you phrase it like that..." He sat up straighter. "I think you're right. I should apologize."

  "That's great," Takemi said with an encouraging smile, warm and genuine.

  A moment of comfortable silence passed.

  Then Kurogane's expression changed. A teasing glint appeared in his eyes. "Also, wait a minute." He turned to face her more directly. "You said 'whenever I've talked to him'. That implies you guys have been talking quite often." He leaned in slightly, his grin widening. "So like, are you guys seeing each other?"

  Takemi's eyes widened. "No, no, no!" The words came out quickly, almost panicked. Her cheeks flushed pink. "It's nothing like that."

  Kurogane chuckled, clearly enjoying her reaction. "Well, anyways, I think it was nice talking to you."

  "You think?" Takemi asked, raising an eyebrow, her composure slowly returning.

  "First time I've talked to you in like... years? Like two years?" Kurogane said, his tone becoming more serious while he raised an eyebrow.

  "Yeah." Takemi's voice softened. "It's been a long time."

  "Yeah." Kurogane stood up, adjusting his backpack. "Anyways, I got lighter and more confident after talking with you so I'm gonna go talk to those two idiots and see what happens."

  Takemi stood as well, smiling up at him. "It was nice talking to you as well. And best of luck."

  "Thanks." Kurogane gave her a genuine smile and walked off toward the school entrance.

  Takemi watched him go, her smile lingering on her face.

  Kurogane found Kazama and Haruto waiting near the school entrance, just where they'd been before. They were standing in the shade, talking quietly. When they saw him approaching, their conversation stopped.

  Kurogane walked up to them with determined steps, his jaw set. He stopped directly in front of them. Making eye contact with both.

  "Hey." His voice was clear, steady. "I'm sorry."

  The words hung in the air.

  "I was being a jerk," Kurogane continued, not waiting for a response. "You were right, Kazama. I shouldn't have talked about Akito and Kuronami like that." He paused, swallowing. "And I shouldn't have gotten defensive when you called me out."

  Kazama studied him for a moment. Then, slowly, a small smile appeared. "It's fine." His voice had lost its earlier edge. "I could have said it better too."

  Haruto's face lit up immediately. "There we go!" He grinned wide, stepping forward and grabbing both Kazama and Kurogane's shoulders in a friendly grip, pulling them closer together. "That's what I like to see! Now can we please celebrate being done with these torture sessions?"

  Kurogane laughed. "Yeah. Yeah, let's do that."

  Kazama's smile widened just slightly. "Food?"

  "Food," both Kurogane and Haruto agreed simultaneously.

  From a distance, Takemi watched the scene unfold. She saw Kurogane apologizing, saw Kazama's small smile and saw Haruto bringing them together. A smile spread across her own face.

  Maybe friendships are just like this. Messy, complicated, but worth fighting for, Takemi thought, turning to head home.