Love Letter From The Future

Seraia Yuridina was afraid.

Since her childhood, it had been that way. Born of lowly status and treated with disdain, fear became a survival skill for her. A longing and terror directed at the entity that held her life and death in their hands.

In order to avoid returning to such a miserable life, to escape from her weak past, she dedicated herself to the art of swordsmanship.

Fortunately, it didn’t take long for the results of her efforts to manifest.

On the day she received the Yuridina surname, seeing the servants of the lord’s castle, who had looked down upon her, fidgeting in discomfort, gave her a strange sense of delight.

Yes, this is the gaze of the strong.

Only the weak pay attention to the strong. Every time the strong’s sight lands on them, they stiffen, tremble, and struggle to discern the other’s intentions.

After grasping the sword, she could no longer feel that sensation of weakness.

The only exceptions were her father and her half-sister. Even her father was now in poor health due to illness.

Therefore, when she faced I-an once more after their last spar, she felt an unfamiliar sensation.

Every time I-an’s eyes swept over her, she flinched. Her muscles stiffened, and her heart, remembering the overwhelming violence, thumped erratically as she struggled to catch her breath.

It was terrifying. The helplessness she had felt last time, the pain imprinted in every nerve, and the clean strikes of his blade delivered without hesitation.

She could hardly bear it. It felt as if she was returning to that miserable state from her childhood, and she gritted her teeth, gripping her wooden sword.

I will overcome this. I will prevail and prove my worth once again.

Her opponent, I-an, looked a bit puzzled, yet he obediently accepted her challenge to spar. After all, he had been the one to overwhelm her last time.

Challenging him after only a week would seem laughable, but for Seraia, it was a pressing issue above all else.

Victory was the only option; the mistake last time had been misjudging her opponent’s capabilities. Today, she would face him with all her strength, as her body was in its best condition.

And so, before Professor Derek’s “Begin!” could finish, Seraia launched herself at him.

It was not a straight line. A bit of an angle, but enough to make contact with his body.

Though her body was stiff with tension, her long hours of training did not betray her. Her sword hit him squarely.

And with a thud, there was a sound.

It rang like a bat striking leather, and the man’s body flew through the air. Seraia’s movement came to a halt. She was clearly taken aback.

This shouldn’t be happening; she had meticulously planned her next and subsequent moves. Yet, among all the possibilities, she had not anticipated that with just one strike, he would soar into the air.

After all, he hadn’t even brushed against her despite her efforts.

Even if she landed a blow, she had expected that due to his superior physical abilities and mana, they would exchange several blows before it was even possible. Yet here, I-an was rolling on the ground with a single hit.

Could this even be a trap? Doubts began to creep into Seraia’s deep blue eyes.

Regardless, the man only groaned and wobbled as he lifted his body.

“Cough… let’s take it easy, take it easy… huh?”

Considering he was getting up despite swaying, it seemed he wasn’t critically injured. She had struck a non-vital area with a wooden sword, after all.

The man, groaning, regained his stance. Seraia still watched him with wary eyes.

It couldn’t end like this. He was the one who had inflicted a humiliating defeat on her last time. Once more, Seraia charged.

Crouching low, Seraia’s blade unleashed a flurry of strikes. A clean diagonal cut from the lower left to the upper right, I-an attempted to defend, but the result was the same as before.

BANG, the sound closer to an explosion shattered the air, and the man’s stance crumbled. Seraia bit her lip.

Should she try to exploit an opening? It was an alluring option, but she soon abandoned it. He might retaliate with that enigmatic counter again.

Instead, she charged in fiercely. And the moment she landed in I-an’s vulnerable space, she jabbed him in the solar plexus with the hilt of her sword.

A clean strike that went deep. I-an couldn’t even muster a groan. Unable to withstand the shock, his waist buckled, and he flew back, rolling several times.

The man couldn’t even catch his breath. It took a long while for the broken sounds of his panting to emerge.

It was strange. By this time, Seraia held such a doubt.

The flow was the same as last time, yet the results were completely opposite. In fact, this was how it should be. No matter how much of a junior she was, she was the top student in her department, while he was only in the mid-lower range.

It was only natural that Seraia should gain the upper hand. Nevertheless, she still couldn’t shake her terror.

It was because the man had once again managed to lift his body. I-an managed to rise, swaying as he regained his stance.

It felt like looking at the Seraia of the previous battle. Thus, Seraia regarded I-an with even colder eyes.

She knew. Until he admitted defeat, he was not truly defeated.

And if he did not acknowledge his defeat, she too could not claim victory. He could turn her back into a weakling at any moment.

Seraia wanted a flawless victory. Anxiety mixed in her gaze.

She charged forward. It was as if the space compressed as her blade flew toward him.

BAM!

A shockwave rattled through the air, and his body swayed at an angle. Seraia seized that opportunity.

BAM, BAM, BAM! Like an axe chopping wood, her sword wildly struck his blade. With her overwhelming physical abilities and magical power, it was a feat she could easily accomplish.

I-an could not withstand for long. His posture, which had been groaning softly, crumbled again, and Seraia struck his side with her blade.

With a gasp, he once again hit the ground. Meanwhile, the audience, who had quietly anticipated the match, now showed clear signs of disappointment.

Of course, such scoffing voices emerged. Seraia found it somewhat amusing. The jeers of those who lacked the courage to even step into the sparring arena.

However, her interest in the spectators ended there. Rather, there was a part of her that hoped for the crowd to jeer even more.

The sooner the man’s spirit broke, the closer her victory would be.

But I-an stood up once more. Despite his pained expression and visible discomfort, he managed to get up.

Seraia’s face frowned involuntarily. No matter how she felt, it wasn’t pleasant to relentlessly batter someone.

“…Are we still at it?”

“Hey, you did that last week too.”

It was a fair point. It was a somewhat pathetic line for a senior to utter towards a junior.

Ultimately, Seraia managed to compose herself once again. A cold hostility resurfaced in her eyes. If that was the case, then she had no choice but to give him what he wanted.

I-an was in a significantly weaker state compared to last week, though for reasons unknown. If she didn’t secure victory now, it might be her last opportunity.

This thought ignited urgency within Seraia.

As she charged, I-an countered, and so it repeated: giving I-an a chance to strike yet again.

It was a repeat of last week. The only difference was that the roles had reversed.

Yet as time went on, the one who grew anxious was Seraia.

The frequency of exchanges between the two increased. Initially, he couldn’t even counter, but soon they exchanged blows several times, and now I-an only fell after a number of exchanges.

Was he regaining his senses? It was an illogical thought, but in her impatience, Seraia thought there was some truth to it.

Thus, Seraia made a rash decision.

As she wrestled with the man, she pulled her sword back, causing his body to lurch forward, and that moment her eyes caught his vital point.

The temple. Unknowingly, Seraia swung her sword.

Crack! Something shattered with the sound, and the man staggered and fell. It was unavoidable given the force against his skull. For a moment, his body convulsed, losing consciousness.

Only then did Seraia realize with a start. She had struck too hard. Though she had moderated the force at the end, it was an exceedingly dangerous act.

What if he ended up with a permanent injury? A chill ran down Seraia’s spine. Along with this, a scream echoed from outside the sparring arena.

“Hey!!!”

Seraia’s gaze darted towards the source of the voice. There stood a girl with fiery eyes, glaring at her.

“You, you… are you insane?! Who are you hitting on the head right now! If something happens to I-an oppa, then you’ll… I’ll do whatever it takes!”

As the girl’s tirade continued, Seraia became increasingly flustered. She wanted to say it was unintentional, that it was a mistake. She wanted to apologize, but lacking familiarity with human relationships, her mind became a jumble, and she was unable to offer a suitable excuse.

Instead, she could only hang her head, fumbling. It was unclear how the black-haired girl, biting her lip in rage, was attempting to enter the arena.

As if she intended to strike her once.

The single phrase that stopped the enraged Celin was this:

“…That’s enough.”

As if still disoriented, the man uttered words while struggling to rise. Fortunately, it seemed there were no aftereffects.

Seraia exhaled a breath of relief inwardly, thankful she had moderated her force at the end.

“It’s loud, so it’s annoying… I’ll take care of it, so stop.”

“No, are you crazy?! Professor Derek!”

Celin now stomped her feet, looking pleadingly at Professor Derek. However, Derek shook his head gravely.

“Last week during the spar, Seraia was struck in the temple and still got up. But if he has the resolve to continue, I want to respect that. However, he must not be seriously injured, so from now on, there will be restrictions. If she wins two more times, Seraia is the victor.”

It was a decision unimaginable unless Derek, who valued experience above all, were present. To leave a man staggering from a blow to the temple standing there.

However, it turned out well for Seraia. Perhaps it was for the best, considering she had already been troubled about injuring her opponent.

Her body stiffened once more. The tension, coupled with the event of striking the man in the temple and his friend’s outburst, overshadowed her.

Blood was now trickling down the man’s head. He might have struck something when rolling or perhaps injured himself when she hit him in the temple.

A heavier sense of guilt settled in Seraia’s heart. She bit her lip.

Just two more times; if she manages that, this frustrating endeavor will end. Then she would be victorious once more. The rumors spreading through the academy would quieten.

That way, even when she next met her half-sister, she could face her without as much embarrassment.

Taking a deep breath, Seraia directed her sword once again at the man. A slight hesitation, but it was brief.

As she kicked off the ground again, producing a sharp slicing sound, her sword lunged straight at him.

Thunk.

A familiar sensation of resistance coursed through, causing a moment of confusion in Seraia’s eyes.

Her gaze fell on the blade. There, her wooden sword was directly clashing with the man’s weapon. And holding that sword was a hand filled with scratches.

No way, Seraia muttered internally. She knew, since she had faced the same situation last week.

Surely, he must have been battered beyond repair, unable to move properly. But how?

Seraia’s jewel-like eyes slowly turned to his face. Their gazes met.

The man, blood dripping from his head, smiled.

“…Got you.”

As if he had finally grasped the situation.

As I faced Seraia in our spar, I had made two decisions.

First, even if it seemed a bit underhanded and pathetic, I would win.

It was a match against a junior. Even if I couldn’t achieve the overwhelming victory of last week, at the very least, I needed to secure a win to avoid humiliation.

Having boasted to Tean and with pride at stake between seniors and juniors, it was imperative. In fact, even without sparring last week, I would have heard, “I knew it would turn out like that.” But it was water under the bridge.

What frustrated me the most was that I hadn’t been the one to spill that drink.

Second, I would roll around and seize any opportunity.

My physical abilities, mana, and even my effort were all lacking compared to Seraia. The only way to compensate for that gap was to roll around as much as possible.

Since Seraia had also rolled around a few times last week, I would consider it paying my due.

Of course, that sin wasn’t one I had committed.

It wasn’t an easy task. I could stomach the first strike, but the moment I was hit directly in the solar plexus, I felt like vomiting.

A numbing pain paralyzed my muscles, narrowed my vision, and made my breath ragged.

Had last week’s Seraia felt this way? If so, she must have had some spirit. There was no denying that I, enduring the pain, was also no walk in the park.

Yet, strangely, today I felt an unfamiliar familiarity with the pain coursing through my body. Normally, I would have thought it would be time to give up and cut my losses.

Above all, as I rolled around, I began to learn several facts about Seraia.

First, Seraia was tense. The stiffer her movements became, the clearer it was to my eyes. It was strange, but I was increasingly perceiving Seraia’s “tell.”

Had she not been anxious, perhaps I wouldn’t have noticed. However, due to her trauma from last week, she was not performing her usual smooth succession of techniques.

Secondly, as time passed, Seraia began to hesitate.

Initially, she hadn’t, but each time I wobbled and got back up, I could sense a mix of impatience and hesitation in her eyes.

I had resolved to push through until the end at that point.

It was a cowardly tactic—using the opponent’s trauma and guilt to exploit their one moment of vulnerability.

However, as the exchanges continued, and I grew more familiar with Seraia’s movements and “tells,” the situation tilted more in my favor.

The decisive moment came when I struck her temple.

At that moment, bright white sparks erupted before me. It was neither an exaggeration nor a joke. Literally, my sight went dark, and something sparkled brightly.

When I regained my senses, I heard Celin yelling at Seraia. My head throbbed. I scanned Seraia’s face through my blurry vision.

She looked flustered, more than ever.

So, I forced my immobile body to rise. Since I couldn’t use magic to oppose her, I returned the mana I had been saving to restore my condition as much as possible.

I could hear creaking noises from every corner where my bones were coming together. My muscles screamed in protest. My hands trembled, urging me to stop.

But at the moment Seraia readied herself and pointed her sword at me once more.

I couldn’t suppress a laugh that escaped.

I can see it. I can see where it’ll come from and where that sword will stop.

The anxious glimmer in her eyes, the tense muscles, and the clouded judgment due to indecision—

Everything flowed in one direction.

It was a “tell.” I finally understood Professor Derek’s words.

If I were up against an unintelligent monster, it might not have been obvious, but in facing an opponent lacking in skill, I should have noticed this instinctive behavior.

Muscles are always honest. It isn’t just about the muscles controlling arms and legs; it applies to eyes, breathing, and all the organs.

So, when Seraia kicked off the ground again and thrust her sword down like lightning.

Thunk! My hand gripped the sword. My palm felt like it would split apart. My judgment arrived early, but my body was late. Even so, it was enough to halt Seraia’s sword.

Seraia gazed at me in astonishment. Her eyes were filled with disbelief.

Thus, I returned a smile.

“…Got you.”

The next moment was instantaneous. Before she could gather her wits, I exerted my strength to wrest the sword from her hand and threw it away.

As her sword was tossed away, dismay swept across Seraia’s face. She must have realized the gravity of her situation, but now she had no means to resist.

If I struck now, it would end. I might not recover from the accumulated damage, but I had to land a fatal blow. Only then could I grasp victory.

A chilling killing intent washed over me. It was an unknown reaction, even I couldn’t recognize.

And as I raised my wooden sword above my head.

“…Huh!”

Seraia let out a pitiful sound as she shielded her head with her arms. Her body trembled. It was as if she remembered the violence from last week.

In that moment, I suddenly regained my senses.

What am I doing?

Against a junior who could not resist, I intended to unleash a “fatal blow” after having disarmed her.

Seraia was trembling, eyes tightly shut, clutching her ears as if anticipating the coming violence.

After all, she had ample reason to respond this way, given what I had heard from Celin.

So, I loosened my grip on the arm raised with the sword.

Instead, I delivered a firm tap on the top of Seraia’s head. Felled with shock, she must have thought the merciless assault was about to begin.

“A-ow…?”

However, what returned was merely a light throb on her head.

Seraia emitted a cute yelp, her eyes widening in disbelief. And her gaze turned to me, perplexed.

I met her stare with incredulity, laughing.

“What are you looking at? Did you think I would assault a junior with no weapon?”

“…B-but.”

With confused eyes, Seraia seemed as if she wanted to protest.

Last week, hadn’t she done just that?

And today, haven’t I done the same?

So why—

It was likely that was her question. A valid one. But I had no desire to answer that inquiry.

The person I was last week was not me, and I was not someone who typically beat up juniors, and relaying that became far too tiresome.

Instead, I offered her some advice.

“You know, your tension shows a lot. Especially your movements stiffen, making it obvious where the attack will come from. Work on hiding your gaze a bit.”

I then tossed my wooden sword away, signaling I had no intention to fight any further.

Only then did the dazed crowd captively watching me snap back to reality. Some seemed impressed, others bewildered, and a few showed dissatisfaction.

It didn’t matter to me. How many of them had the guts to confront me? I silently glanced at Professor Derek.

Derek nodded with a pleased smile.

“…Good, the match ends. Let’s consider it a draw.”

In the end, I didn’t win, but simply not losing was an adequate achievement.

As I trudged away from the sparring arena, I suddenly thought to look back.

There sat Seraia, staring at me blankly.

“And one last thing.”

While meeting her bewildered gaze, I smirked.

“From now on, try to show a little courtesy. Let’s greet each other when we pass, okay?”

Ah, this is what being a senior is about.

With that satisfaction as a senior solidified, I left.

Though I pretended to be indifferent, I felt like I might collapse at any moment. Whether she realized my state or not, Celin rushed over, frantically patting my back.

For having lost a week of memories, this was the best possible start. Above all, untying the grudges entwined with Yuridina was the greatest accomplishment.

Now, I could no longer tie myself to the scions of powerful families, as I stepped into the temple’s intensive care unit.

And the next day.

Seraia began to follow me. Secretly.

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