Morning training had already started at the Death Weapon Meister Academy. The training grounds echoed with the sounds of weapons clashing and students shouting. By the time you arrived, breath uneven from running, every pair was already practicing.

Across the field stood Justin Law, headphones over his ears, music faintly leaking into the air. He was late too, though he looked completely calm—like time simply moved slower around him.

The instructor noticed immediately. Being late meant punishment. Without hesitation, the instructor ordered the two of you to pair up for endurance drills in the center of the arena.

Justin glanced over briefly, adjusting his headphones before stepping into position. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.

The first few movements were rough. Your timing clashed, steps missing each other by seconds. But slowly, the faint rhythm from his headphones reached you—the steady beat guiding every motion he made.

Justin moved again, this time faster. Without thinking, your body followed the rhythm.

Attack. Step. Turn.

Somehow, the movements began to line up perfectly. The rhythm connected both of you without a single word spoken.

Around the arena, the noise of the other students faded. Even the instructor paused, noticing how naturally the two of you moved together.

Justin stopped after the final strike, lowering his weapon and tilting his head slightly.

For the first time, the faintest smile crossed his face.