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01
“Itoshi Rin!”
The invitation in the black-haired witch’s hand dissolved into motes of light. The heavy brass gates of the Great Hall groaned open on their own; even the gargoyle knocker muttered under its breath,
“Gods above—I nearly died of fright…”
Rin’s glare snapped toward it, sharp as a spellblade. “You have something to say?”
The gargoyle immediately froze, pretending to be nothing more than decorative hardware.
The Academy’s annual Winter Gala had barely begun, and the moment the first-year prodigy appeared, admirers flocked to her like moths to a flame. Rin, however, found them insufferable. She shot a withering look at the nearest boy, who paled and retreated at once. Only then did she stride to the refreshment table closest to the dance floor and pick up a slice of chocolate gâteau.
The sweetness—pleasant, with the faint bitterness of dark cocoa—barely soothed her mood. Her eyes swept the ballroom like a nocturnal predator’s; every witch, warlock, and demon who met her gaze trembled in spite of themselves.
She wasn’t looking for them.
She was looking for her.
Human, Rin ground her teeth. So what if she’s human?
A creature who should’ve belonged in fantasy books—someone with no spell affinity whatsoever—and yet at the Duel Tournament five months ago, that same human earned Rin’s elder sister’s approval after teaming with her.
Rin still tasted the shock and fury of that day.
The plate in her hand was already empty. Rin grabbed another, this time shoving a chestnut–sea-salt cookie mousse into her mouth. She bit down with unnecessary force, the crackle of the salted crumbs loud in her ears.
And still—that slow, clueless human hadn’t shown up to the Gala?!
She was a human, yes; but didn’t she even know attendance was mandatory?!
Just as Rin’s irritation peaked, she caught a familiar voice from across the hall—truly across the hall, all the way by the side entrance. The moment she heard that infuriatingly gentle tone, Rin straightened at once, instinctively smoothing the skirt of her gown.
It was a black velvet ballgown she had personally picked out last month—silver thread embroidery, scattered diamonds, the works. She swept her styled hair behind her shoulder and stood tall.
“Ooooh no… Are we late, ■■?”
Rin automatically filtered out the roommate’s name, not worth memorizing. The girl’s relieved sigh echoed faintly from across the ballroom.
The black-haired witch huffed, lifting her chin. Her height—already impressive—became nearly intimidating atop her heels.
Fine.
The human might not have invited her during the entire month leading to the Gala, but—if she came over now and asked her to dance, Rin supposed she would reluctantly grant Isagi a few songs.
If she asked.
1.5
“Oi… what now?” Rin answered the call with utter irritation. The palm-sized communication scroll unfurled, revealing her elder sister’s face. Sae, red hair wrapped in a towel, was in the middle of her nightly skincare ritual and looked just as impatient.
“Nothing dramatic,” Sae answered with indifference. “Mom asked me to check whether you’re still alive.”
“Get lost.” Rin’s finger hovered over the rune to terminate the spell when Sae added, almost lazily:
“So. The Academy Gala’s soon, right? Found a dance partner yet?”
It was as if Sae had stabbed directly into an invisible bruise. Rin’s hand stopped mid-air. Her grip tightened around the spellbook she’d been reading, pages crinkling in protest.
Nearly a month had passed since the Gala was announced. Every day, piles of invitations had arrived—fancy parchment, scented envelopes, wax seals, enchanted confetti, all sorts of juvenile attempts to impress a prodigy witch.
Rin opened none of them.
For years she had tossed such letters straight into the wastebasket—sometimes directly into the fireplace—without bothering to slit the seal. She never cared who wanted to dance with her.
Yet this month, every morning, she found herself pausing, thumb resting on the edge of the newest envelope. Only for a breath. Only long enough for a name—one she would never say out loud—to flicker through her mind.
Then she would scoff, tear the envelope open with unnecessary force, find a stranger’s name inside, feel a stab of irritation she refused to examine, and toss the whole thing aside.
And the next day she did it again.
Ridiculous, she told herself each time. Completely ridiculous.
But envelope after envelope, none contained the one name she wasn’t waiting for—because obviously she wasn’t waiting for anything at all.
Certainly not Isagi Yoichi.
Thinking of this made Rin’s anger spike again. “Why do you care? Trying to act like a good big sister now?”
Sae’s eyebrow arched with that infuriating calm only she could manage. Then she hung up.
The scroll snapped shut. Rin nearly threw it across the room.
She surged to her feet, rage crackling at her fingertips—only for her gaze to snag on something behind her. The black velvet gown she had painstakingly chosen last week hung on its stand. From Sae’s angle, Rin realized, the entire dress must have been visible during the call.
Her cheeks heated.
She would deny it to the grave, but it felt as though Sae had just glimpsed a secret Rin herself hadn’t fully acknowledged.
She clicked her tongue sharply and turned away.
02
The enchanted orchestra stirred awake, instruments rising into the air as if lifted by invisible hands. A soft overture rippled across the hall, gold and silver notes blooming like petals.
Isagi Yoichi stepped forward in a white gown—clean lines, elegant tailoring, the kind of understated grace that made onlookers wonder whether the dress was enchanted or she simply wore it well. Her black hair flowed freely down her back, glossy under the chandeliers.
Hiori Yo, all blue hair and gentle smiles, brushed a loose strand behind Isagi’s ear with the delicacy of someone handling a fragile spell crystal.
“Isa-chan,” she asked sweetly, “may I have the honor of your first dance?”
Isagi returned the smile, warm and sincere. “If you don’t mind dancing with someone who still miscounts half her steps, then… yes.”
“Uuuugh—I wanted the first dance too…” Kurona Ranze whined from behind them. Hiori, unbothered, gave Kurona a teasing shrug. “Sorry, Ranze. We decided this with rock–paper–scissors. A fair duel of fate.”
Yukimiya sighed, all dramatic elegance. “I suppose… second position has its charm.”
Hiori didn’t give the others time to complain further—she whisked Isagi away, her hand slipping easily into the human girl’s.
As they crossed the floor, arcs of soft ice-blue mana shimmered beneath their feet, responding to Hiori’s mana. Isagi couldn’t stop glancing down—she had always been fascinated by magic as phenomena, even if she herself could not wield it the same way.
Hiori nudged her cheek with a single finger. “Isagi-chan. Eyes up. The mana will still be there later.”
“Sorry, sorry…”
Hiori’s arm slid around Isagi’s waist, firm enough to guide her, gentle enough not to startle her. She gently explained. “Your magic comes from drawn sigils, right? Those glowing circles you sketch on paper? They read the mana in our witches, so during this dance, you’ll only see my color.”
“Oh… so that’s how it works.” Isagi nodded thoughtfully, then nearly jumped when Hiori tugged her closer.
“Isa-chan,” she pouted, “can’t you look at me instead of the floor?”
“You can just say it without pulling me close, you know? You’re getting more and more spoiled…” Isagi muttered, cheeks warm.
Hiori only chuckled.
The music swelled—she lifted Isagi by the hand, stepping into a sweeping arc. Their skirts brushed and twirled like layered blossoms. Overhead, crystal lights refracted across Hiori’s face, giving her features a dreamy glow.
“…You look beautiful, Hiori,” Isagi murmured before she could stop herself. Hiori faltered. For someone with succubus blood, someone whose charm was literally classified as a restricted-level talent, she froze like a novice caught miscasting a spell.
Her eyes brightened, faintly heart-shaped pupils shimmering.
Isagi squeaked, “Hiori! Your eyes—your eyes!”
The succubus blinked and regained control, tamping down the instinctive surge of allure. She hooked her arm tighter around Isagi’s waist, pressing their bodies together.
“Your sweet words ruin people, Isa-chan,” she purred, voice honey-sweet. “If you praise me like that, I’ll accidentally reveal my demon traits. Then… you’ll have to take responsibility.”
Isagi nearly tripped; only Hiori’s arm saved her. Her face went scarlet. “I—I didn’t mean—!”
Hiori giggled, a soft ringing sound like spell chimes. “Idiot Isa-chan. I’m teasing you. There’s no such rule with succubus, but your reaction is very adorable.”
“W–Well, don’t scare me like that…” Isagi looked down, embarrassed. Her cheek was flushing, adorable enough that Hiori’s expression softened further. Though Hiori was a succubus, but she was undeniably fascinated by Isagi.
So cute, she thought. Far too cute.
2.5
“If only I could dance with Isagi-chan forever…” Hiori sighed as she and Isagi descended from the floor, sounding every bit like a satisfied succubus who had just fed on sweetness and love. “Being your dance partner feels like a blessing from the spirits.”
Kurona Ranze immediately puffed up, indignant. “Hey!! You can’t just monopolize Isagi-chan!”
Yukimiya coughed, elegant but equally offended. “Exactly, Hiori. You got the first dance because of a game. A game, Hiori—not destiny.”
From the buffet, Bachira’s golden eyes gleamed behind a mouthful of pastries; she shot up like a startled fantastic beast. “YES! I knew Isagi-chan before all of you! Before dorms! Before spell electives! Seniority counts!”
Hiori covered her mouth with her delicate hand, feigning innocence while her succubus aura curled playfully around her shoulders. “It’s hardly my fault that I’m Isa-chan’s first dance partner… I know she’s simply irresistible and you all want to dance with her, but I won fair and square.”
Chigiri Hyoka, standing off to the side with her long red hair shimmering under the enchanted lights, rolled her eyes with such practiced grace that it almost created its own mini-gust of wind.
03
Itoshi Rin had entered the rare, highly volatile emotional state known as silent witch fury.
Her gaze speared straight through the dancers on the floor — specifically toward Hiori Yo, succubus menace extraordinaire, who currently had her arm wrapped around Isagi Yoichi’s waist in a way that was—to Rin—unspeakably inappropriate.
Excuse me?
Isagi had not come to invite her, Itoshi Rin, to the first dance. But she had no problem letting that blue-haired succubus breathe directly against her ear?!
The whispered words. The soft smile Isagi gave in return. The closeness — too close — far too close for any sane person’s comfort.
Rin’s vision nearly tinted cyan with rising mana. She slapped down her empty dessert plate and seized the snack tray instead, annihilating a mouthful of cheddar crisps as if they were second-rate duel opponents.
The salty bite replaced the lingering sweetness, but her mood wasn’t better. Not even by a fraction.
Still, if Isagi came to invite her for the next dance, Rin would, of course, reluctantly accept. Out of generosity. Out of magnanimity. Out of noblesse oblige.
But she had better come soon.
04
“Finally… almost the last song.”
The black-haired girl exhaled in relief as she stepped off the floor with Barou Shouko, the tall witch with dark hair streaked in vivid crimson. Barou’s cheeks were redder than her highlights, the blush climbing to the tips of her ears.
The orchestra quieted for a brief intermission; the hall buzzed, waiting.
Immediately, Isagi’s friends swooped toward her like a flock of enchanted sparrow sprites.
“Isagi, your last dance slot is still free, right?”
“Isagi-chan, dance with me! One more song! Pleeease?”
“No—no, my good girl will dance with me again, right?”
Isagi nearly panicked. She raised both hands as if warding off a stampede of magical familiars. “No, no! I already danced with all of you — I can’t pick someone twice! You’re all my friends, and if I choose one person, the rest will be upset, right?”
“Foul play!” Bachira declared with puffed cheeks, clinging to Isagi’s arm. “There must be someone special in your heart!”
The atmosphere tightened instantly.
Isagi’s soul left her body for two seconds. Then, she waved her hands frantically. “N-no no no! I like everyone! You’re all my—”
Chigiri cut in smoothly, silkily. “So greedy, Isagi. Such a bad girl.”
Isagi practically squeaked. “Bad?? No—what—”
“Stop cornering her,” Hiori sighed, though her tail curled with amusement. She picked up a small cake and lifted it toward Isagi’s lips. “Isa-chan, here, ahh—”
Bachira immediately grabbed another spoon. “No! Isagi! Ahhh— Eat mine eat mine mineeeeeee!”
“STOP TRYING TO FEED ME AT THE SAME TIME!!” Isagi’s voice cracked with desperation.
Across the hall, Rin stiffened as though.
Isagi Yoichi—
Laughing. Smiling. Being fed sweets by those people.
Chatting with that entire crowd as if they were her coven.
Rin clenched her fork so hard it bent, the steak on her plate tasting like ash. Isagi’s behavior was nothing short of provocation. She ignored Rin for the entire night yet entertained that rowdy group?
Mana crackled around Rin’s boots. A faint cyan aura rose, dripping black sludge onto the marble before dissipating into smoke.
Tsk.
She had better come invite Rin for the last dance. If she didn’t—Rin would absolutely—
“Okay, Reo. This is it. Final song. Perfect timing to clear up the misunderstanding between you and Isagi—deep breaths—go. Just go. No—wait—if I rush over she’ll think I’m declaring war. Which I’m not. I do not duel witches over a boy. Especially not that boy. Why does everyone keep saying I’m in a scandal with Nagi?! I already broke off the engagement!! Publicly!! With witnesses!! That man naps through half of existence—So who started that rumor?? Okay, focus—maybe if I casually mention I only like girls—NO, no, that sounds like I’m announcing my sexuality instead of clarifying the situation—does that make it worse—? Is that worse?! Gods, that’s worse…”
Rin’s eye twitched.
A tidal wave of frantic internal monologue slammed against her mental barrier, each thought louder and more panicked than the last.
She turned her head.
There stood Mikage Reo—purple-haired witch, professional rumor magnet, and former disciple of that terminally horizontal genius wizard—gripping her wineglass like it might flee. Her gaze was locked onto Isagi with the raw, overwrought devotion of someone mentally drafting tragic poetry titles.
“Oh gods—she looked at me! She looked—no, she looked away?! WHY did she look away? Is my eyeliner crooked? Impossible. I paid a fortune for this face—okay, breathe—WAIT, Hiori Yo, why are you whispering to her?! Are you the one who spread those rumors?! If you ruin my reputation I will sue you spiritually—”
Rin let the noise pass through her like static.
She didn’t care about Reo’s melodrama.
What mattered was simple: Mikage Reo had absolutely nothing to do with Rin’s personal rivalry with Isagi Yoichi. Like she said, Isagi had the responsibility to see her become the top witch. And Rin had even less interest in whatever nonsense rumor and engagement involved Reo and that albino wizard.
“And that human idiot—Isagi!!!! You’re surrounded by witches! You must be thrilled, huh?! Dancing with everyone except me?! Acting all cute when you should be focusing on your future rival—idiot! Flirt! Human disaster!”
The voice on Rin’s right made her sigh.
Ness—the curly-haired witch who trailed the blue-rose peacock from Bastard Academy like an overworked familiar—was glaring into her drink as if it had personally betrayed her. She stabbed the rim with her straw, muttering under her breath, eyes shining with the manic fervor of someone who had read far too many human-centric fiction novel.
That rat-tail had already slunk back to Bastard Academy where she belonged. And that witch—arrogant, loud, self-important—who had the audacity to parade around calling herself Isagi’s rival?
How laughable.
The clock chimed.
Five minutes until the final song.
After that, the rigid formality would dissolve—partners would blur, rules would evaporate, and the night would devolve into casual mingling. Chaos, in other words. For Rin, the window wasn’t just shrinking.
It was bleeding out.
“Guys, seriously—stop fighting,” Isagi said, voice worn thin by overuse. “I told you—no repeats!”
She sounded like a kindergarten teacher trapped in the middle of a witch duel prevention seminar. Her friends retreated, grudgingly, like scolded familiars still vibrating with unresolved aggression.
Rin’s gaze snapped back to Isagi.
Perfect timing.
Rin set down her empty plate, wiped the crumbs from her mouth, and rose to her full, intimidating height.
Yes. Isagi would come. Any second now. She pulled out her lipstick.
—click.
A soft popping noise echoed on her left.
And on her right.
Rin froze. Slowly, she turned.
At the neighboring tables sat Mikage Reo and Alexia Ness. They both holding lipstick tubes, both touching up at the exact same moment Rin did, both staring at her like synchronized pests attempting mimicry magic.
Rin regarded them with the weary disgust one reserved for familiars who wandered into the wrong ritual circle and then had the audacity to make eye contact.
Why are they even here…? Shouldn’t they be glued to their “masters” like proper side-kicks?
Her gaze drifted to Ness, and vaguely recalled as the loyal lap-familiar of that arrogant rat-tailed peacock from Bastard Academy.
“Oi,” Rin said flatly. “Aren’t you from Bastard Academy? The Neo-Egoist League ended. Why are you still here?”
The moment she finished, Ness detonated.
“You— you eyelash witch, what do you know?! I-I-I specialize in summoning magic! And I’m conducting extremely important human research! And I’m also here to assist my Kaiser-sama by monitoring her fated rival!!”
Kaiser-sama. Rin almost choked.
That gaudy rat-tail? That self-proclaimed rival? Please. Let her transfer to Blue Lock Academy first if she wanted to fight for that title. Isagi Yoichi needed only one rival in her life, and that one and only rival would always be Itoshi Rin.
Reo scoffed. “Then go finish your research. I’m here to secure a chance to dance with Isagi.”
Ness bristled, plum-colored eyes flashing like enchanted blades. “Over MY DEAD BODY! I’m here on behalf of Kaiser-sama to reserve the final dance with Yoichi!”
“Can you two shut up,” Rin muttered, already sick of breathing the same air as them, “because the one who dances the last song with that lukewarm human will be me. You two can crawl back to your albino fiancé and your arrogant rat-tail.”
Ness’s mana snapped like a whip, magenta sparks sizzling. Summoning spirits flickered angrily behind her. “You DARE insult my pure admiration for GLORIOUS KAISER-SAMA?!”
“I HAVE NOTHING BUT FRIENDSHIP WITH NAGI!!!” Reo shouted back, pointing accusingly at Rin. “And what about you?! You are the one who is calling me? Everything you do is just you screaming ‘NOTICE ME, SAE NE-CHAN’ through Isagi! Poor Isagi, getting dragged into your unresolved sister complex!”
Ness immediately seized the opening. “Exactly! Go back to your sister, you eyelash sis-con! Stop using Yoichi as a substitute battleground for your twisted obsession with Itoshi Sae!”
Rin’s eyebrow twitched. “You two are seriously asking for—!!”
She was furious. These two background NPCs, daring to challenge her importance towards and rivalry with Isagi? Without Rin training and clashing with Isagi, that human would still be casting magic like a lukewarm potato. These two hadn’t contributed a single spark to Isagi; yet they dared… They dared—!!
Mana surged from Rin’s palm.
But then…
The final song began.
Instantly, all three witches snapped their heads toward the dance floor.
There, in the center of the hall, Isagi had her cheeks pink, smiling sweetly. She was already held in the arms of another black-haired girl.
Nanase Nijika.
She hugged Isagi as if she’d personally won the heavens’ lottery.
Rin slammed her lipstick onto the table hard enough to dent it.
She should never have wasted time arguing with these two background clowns. NANASE NIJIKA of all witches?! Rin had even taught her a few spells out of pity! And now an AVERAGE witch had stolen the final dance with Rin’s destined rival?!
Reo went sheet-white. “Again…? When will this misunderstanding END…?!”
Ness sniffled violently — then bolted for the restroom like a tear-streaked magical cyclone.
Tonight, three more hearts shattered in the Academy.
EXTRA
Although most students at the Academy already knew Isagi was human, she still preferred not to advertise it.
Out of habit—and basic survival instinct—she wore the illusionary pointed ears Miss Ego had painstakingly crafted for her. They were convincing enough to fool ninety-nine percent of magical beings, provided no one stared too hard or tried to poke them.
Tonight, however, deep into the exchange term’s final month, Isagi just wanted peace.
She picked a quiet hour. Slipped into the hot-spring bath. Let the fragrant steam melt the stress from her shoulders.
And forgot one thing.
She wasn’t wearing the illusionary ears.
Isagi hummed softly, sinking deeper into the water—perfectly relaxed, blissfully ignorant, and actively committing a fatal tactical error.
The door slid open.
Michela Kaiser entered first, golden hair spilling down her back like a living enchantment that refused to obey gravity. Behind her bounced Alexia Ness, vibrating with far too much curiosity for a place where people were naked.
The moment they noticed the black-haired girl soaking peacefully, both of them froze.
Then Ness screamed. “YOICHI—YOUR EARS—YOU’RE HUMAN?!?!”
She launched herself forward so fast the steam split around her. Isagi barely had time to yelp before Ness latched onto her like a deranged research assistant discovering a forbidden artifact.
“HEY—LET GO OF ME!” Isagi splashed, twisting uselessly as Ness seized her head.
“No illusion… no mana residue… smooth curvature—THIS IS REAL—this is—this is—IMPOSSIBLE—Yoichi you’re a HUMAN?! My research notes didn’t say—wait—WAIT—does this mean—?!”
“Alexia,” Isagi growled, “I said. Let. Go.” She yanked herself free, water sloshing everywhere.
Michela, meanwhile, had already recovered.
She stepped into the bath with the serene authority of a queen entering a sacred ritual circle. Isagi immediately scooted backward, but Michela only smiled—slow, knowing, dangerous.
A vine of sky-blue mana unfurled from her fingertips, gliding across the water like a well-trained serpent. Before Isagi could react—
“HEY—WHAT ARE YOU DOI—?!”
The vine looped around her waist and reeled her in.
Michela pulled Isagi flush against her side and draped an arm around her shoulders, utterly satisfied. “Oh, Yoichi. So that’s why you struggle with spell casting and use a completely different method. Everything makes sense now.” She hummed. “You should have told me you were human. A little human cutie.”
“I DIDN’T WANT TO!” Isagi sputtered, face burning as their bare skin touched. She tried to wriggle free, failed miserably, and seriously considered dissolving into steam. “Why are you ALL like this?! Is this NORMAL here?!”
Ness leaned forward again, eyes shining with unholy academic fervor. “Yoichi… let me see again. Real human ears… I’ve only seen illustrations… What is your world like? They say humans have no magic—do you use alternate systems? Technology? Ritual devices? Are humans fragile? Are they cold-resistant? Do they—”
Michela shot her a look so cold it nearly froze the bathwater.
Do not interrupt my Yoichi time.
Ness snapped her mouth shut instantly.
But Isagi saw it. A chance.
She tilted her head, donned her most innocent smile, and leaned slightly toward Ness—ignoring how Michela’s grip tightened in warning.
“Sure, Alexia,” Isagi said sweetly. “What do you want to know? I’ll tell you anything.”
Ness lit up like she’d been blessed by the human gods. “R-Really?! I read so many human novels! I want to know EVERYTHING!”
Michela’s smile twitched.
Cracked.
In one swift motion, she hooked both of Isagi’s arms from behind and hauled her fully against her chest.
“Yoichi,” Michela growled pleasantly through clenched teeth, “you cannot pretend I’m not here. Flirting with another witch in front of me is extremely rude.”
Her hold tightened—possessive, unmistakable.
To Kaiser, Ness was nothing more than a dog that had gotten too close to her future lover. Her blue eyes burned with irrational jealousy.
Know. Your. Place. Alexia. Ness.
Unbeknownst to her, however, her beloved “side-kick” would later sneak out to attend the Blue Lock Academy Gala without her.
And tonight, ignorance was the only mercy Michela had.