Leonardo's curiosity flared like an exposed nerve. "Why do their eyes look like that?" he asked, pointing in the direction where Wata stood, speaking to a boy much younger than himself.
"Monolids," Anna replied. The word dropped like a stone into still water.
"It's slick-looking," Leonardo muttered, touching his own amber-lit eyes with a hint of envy.
"If you're looking for the most diverse facial structures in the entire city—eyes with holes, lashes like spears—you're standing on it," she said, her voice tinged with pride.
Tadashi and Ryuji approached. Leonardo had noticed them a while ago, and by the way they were staring, it was mutual.
Ryuji looked like history sculpted into a vase. His kimono—black with subtle white stripes—caught the light like lingering memory, bound by a dark sash that hung loosely. The katana at his side stuck to him like it was fused there—he never let go of it.
His red, intense eyes scanned the area like a predator surveying its territory.
When Ryuji drew his blade against Leonardo, it wasn't aggression. It was assessment. A test. A probing of limits.
"You're her guide?" The question sliced clean, dissecting Leonardo's worth in a single breath.
"What are you doing?" Leonardo asked, a vein twitching on his temple.
He felt himself shrink beneath Ryuji's presence—a crushing weight of power. Not cruelty. Just pure, raw scrutiny.
"He's one of the top contenders for the strongest heir right now," Anna said coolly. "Takashiro Ryuji."
"Anna," Takashiro said slowly. "You're back from your city."
"You're right," she replied.
They continued their conversation as if Leonardo and Elara didn't exist. Unlike Wata, Leonardo didn't dare ask for a nickname. He could only hope he'd pronounce it right.
Then Takashiro suddenly turned toward him.
"I drew my blade, and you didn't even flinch? Not even a cursed remark?" he said, eyes narrowing. Leonardo felt himself wilt under the stare. _I should avoid this one,_ he thought, sweat trickling down his neck.
"You can call me Takashiro. Or Ryuji," he said, watching Leonardo's every twitch.
In a flash, he drew his blade again—calculated, precise—and held it at the tip of Leonardo's neck.
"He didn't even dodge?" Ryuji asked, genuinely perplexed. "You picked such a weakling as your guide?" he mocked.
Leonardo staggered, stunned. _I didn't even see his hand move…_ The blade had just appeared.
"You chose someone beneath you in every way as your guide too?" Anna retorted, annoyance showing as she forced a smile.
"I did it for the challenge," Ryuji said with a shrug. "I hope you're not comparing our strengths now. The gap between us is more balanced than yours."
He stepped aside, finally lowering his blade.
"That's the master for you—such dedication. No one in the Takashiro family mastered one hundred styles at seventeen," Wata said, practically glowing with praise as they departed.
"Yes, yes, Wata," Ryuji replied dismissively.
"Ow," Leonardo muttered, rubbing his neck. He'd tried to dodge, subconsciously.
Ryuji wielded two main styles with his blade: Tenshin Shoden Katori Shinto-ryu (天真正伝香取神道流), with hints of Yagyu Shinkage-ryu (柳生新陰流) showing through. Unlike most, he had also mastered Itto-ryu (一刀流), which he'd just demonstrated on Leonardo.
"We've got a long way to go," Anna sighed.
"Get ready, everyone," Hector called out cheerily. "We're about to reach the final floor."