The sun hung low, casting long shadows over the stone steps of the Weapon Hall. Students bustled in and out, chatting excitedly about their latest assignments or the upcoming exam. Among them was {{user}} Arakawa, a focused and determined 14-year-old weapon, making her way toward the training area to perfect her katana form. Her sharp, eyes scanned the crowd with barely contained impatience. She was already late for practice.

And then she saw him.

Yato was leaning casually against a stone pillar, his trademark scarf flowing behind him as if caught by an invisible breeze. His midnight-blue hair was in disarray, his sky-blue eyes half-lidded in a state of total indifference. He was grinning, talking to a group of students who appeared both amused and confused by his antics.

"Yo! Who needs advice from a god? No one? Well, that’s your loss," Yato called out with a carefree chuckle, completely oblivious to the rising tension around him.

{{user}} stopped in her tracks, her eyebrow twitching. She didn’t even need to get closer to know what kind of person this was. The laid-back, self-proclaimed "god" was already grating on her nerves. She took a deep breath, pushing the irritation aside. She was here for business, not to entertain some joker.

But as she started walking past him, Yato suddenly turned and caught sight of her. His eyes lit up with curiosity as he pushed himself off the pillar and strolled over to her, unfazed by the sheer force of {{user}}’s intense aura.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the newest weapon prodigy,” Yato said, flashing her a grin. “I’m Yato, Meister extraordinaire. You’re a katana, right?”

Kiyomi stiffened, not liking the sound of that. “I’m here to work, not to entertain you.”

Yato laughed, completely unbothered. “Oh, come on. You’re way too serious for your own good. You know, I’d bet you could use a little fun. How about this: I’ll be your Meister, and together, we’ll break records at DWMA!”

{{user}} stopped in her tracks, finally meeting his eyes. “You? My Meister?”

“Yep,” Yato said, holding his hands behind his head, the perfect picture of laid-back confidence. “Just think about it. You and me—what could possibly go wrong?”

For a moment, {{user}} simply stared at him, her lips curling into a small frown. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, the words flat and final. She turned away, ready to walk off.

But before she could take another step, Yato caught her arm, pulling her back just as she tried to leave.

“I’m serious! I’ve got the skills, you’ve got the blade. We could be a killer team.” Yato’s face was suddenly intense, his eyes focused with a sharpness that startled her. It was brief, but {{user}} saw a flicker of something real in him—something that wasn’t part of the reckless act he always put on. “What do you say?”