I stayed up all night reading the dusty old book with the little torch in my mouth.

Every twenty years, a comet would pass by, showering the skies of the Graveyard of Stars with a blazing display of shooting stars, which was how it got its name. Well before 0 AE, witches figured out that with the shower came a burst of inner spirit in the surrounding areas. Some of the bloodiest events of the war between the mages happened on these days. Sick of the war, a witch and an elementalist came together on the night of the shooting stars to cast the strongest spell anyone had ever tried.

They created the elemental spirits.

In the process, they lost their lives, and the elementalists lost their powers, no longer able to control nature. But with the help of the spirits, peace was restored, and non-mages lived without fear. Though the witches, now pushed to the fringes of society, didn't care for it.

Twenty years later, when the comet passed by again, the witches sealed the spirits within the mountains of the Graveyard of Stars.

I didn’t know how true any of this was, as more than once, the text seemed to be no more than the ramblings of a mad witch. But if it were true, it certainly explained the kidnapper’s runes. My head was pounding and my eyes stung by the time the sun came up, but I couldn’t take my nose out of the book.

Over the next few days, in between our trek, meals and little sleep, I scoured its pages. Unfortunately, it didn’t mention the Sakashi incident too, but the history of Saishuu Riku, even if the account may be false, was fascinating.

But once midnight drew close on Tuesday night, I shut the book, now almost complete, and cleared my mind.

Time to meditate.

***

June 15. Fourteen going on fifteen years old. Japan.

Water dripped from the faucet outside, masking my sigh as I locked the phone screen. Another chapter without Kaede’s location. This time, Ahio and the rest had managed to find the seer, and had told him about the kidnapping. But the chapter finished before he could reply.

The rest of the day passed by with a flurry of classes. The teachers were pretty hard on us, now that we were ninth graders. I’d got my grades up again, though of course no where near the level my mum wanted them to be. When the last bell rang, we walked straight home, many of my classmates muttering to each other about their grades and exams. I missed the days when we took part in extracurricular clubs after school instead.

‘Have you decided on high schools yet?’ asked Yuuhei, a toothy grin across his cheeks. Even he had dark circles around his eyes, took more notes in class than he ever did before and joked around a lot less.

‘I’m thinking of your sister’s old school too,’ I said, kicking a pebble. ‘Mum liked it when we went in on their open day to check it out. She’s already looking for after school classes to help me pass their exams and ace the interview.’

Yuuhei bounced on his tiptoes, and threw his arms around me. ‘Oh my gosh, we’re going to the same school! I’m so excited.’ He pulled back and chuckled. ‘I mean, if we get admitted, but I’m sure we will!’

‘Yeah,’ I said with a smile. Except I’d yet to talk to Dad. I didn’t want to, until I found a way to convince him, perhaps by getting a scholarship. But even after weeks of searching in newspapers and asking around, I couldn’t find any. It would’ve been much easier if I could’ve used the internet.

I’ve got to keep looking.

For the rest of the way, we jumped from one topic to another, from new anime to Saishuu Riku to a video game he enjoyed. After an impromptu bag fight, we waved goodbye to each other at the end of the lane.

I’m going to the same school as Yuuhei no matter what.

The cherry trees in my garden waved at me with the wind as I swung open the gate. My parents' voices drifted out of the front door. I sighed and placed my shoes beside my dad’s on the rack. He’d arrived last night, eyes red with sleep and barely spoke a word to me or Mum before he went to bed. I preferred it that way. At least he was too tired to fight.

Both voices stopped abruptly as I entered the hall. My dad glared at my mum from across the coffee table. Unlike last night, his dark hair was neatly combed and his face didn’t sport the wear of travel.

Mum pursed her lips, leaning forward in her armchair. ‘We were talking about high schools.’

I clutched my backpack's straps, my fingers growing clammy. I’d told her not to bring it up to him yet. ‘Oh?’

‘I was just telling your father about that wonderful private school we visited. Didn’t you say Yuuhei’s sister— what was her name?— Yumi Shinguchi went there?’ She sent a sideways gaze at my dad, and he groaned. ‘She’s a doctor now.’

‘Public schools are just as good, but don’t steal your money while they’re at it.’ Dad rolled his eyes. ‘He doesn’t want to be a doctor anyway.’

‘Maybe not a doctor,’ my mum said. ‘But the school has contracts with a few prestigious engineering universities across the country. If we budget well enough, we can easily afford the tuition.’

‘I’m telling you, it’s a waste of money! What, isn’t he good enough for public education?’

I opened my mouth, then closed it. Never, in all the years they’d fought, have I ever added my own input. But this was about me. Shouldn’t I have a say? Yet my hands trembled and my jaw remained shut.

Mum rose from her seat with a glare. ‘If you stop spending so much for your sister and yourself, we wouldn’t have to worry. For once in your life, think about your son’s future!’

‘I am! You’re the one who’s always pushing him, now into a school I’m sure he doesn’t even want to go to.’ He clenched his teeth as he spoke.

I took a deep breath. ‘I actually want to go to the private school.’

He turned to me. After all those times we’d lived in the same house, never had I felt he’d truly seen me till now. I used to wish he’d talk to me, play with me, acknowledge me. Then I’d stopped hoping. But today, he looked at me. There was anger in his eyes, but for once, it was toward me.

‘Don’t talk back to your father. Go to your room,’ he said.

I nodded and walked away, eyes on the floor.

Pens and pencils shot away from my clumsily aimed bag as I threw it onto my desk. If I had been my swordsman self, I could’ve thrown it perfectly. I sat down and clutched my head. If I had been my swordsman self, I wouldn’t have to listen to the shouting outside.

My eyes stung, and I squeezed them shut.

That’s right, I’m a swordsman! I had much bigger problems to worry about. I might not be as strong, or fight and use weapons as well as my other self, but I was still a swordsman. Little problems like this, about parents and high schools and best friends, shouldn’t worry me. I had to think about ancient magics and kidnappers. About the butterfly effect. These issues were a waste of time.

My throat tightened and the first tear fell on my desk.

I won’t cry about this. I won’t cry about this!

More tears dropped onto the table as the shouting outside grew louder every second. My body shook.

I wish I was nothing but a swordsman.