Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s early afternoon when the young man emerges from the magic circle into the bustle of Tokyo. Thankfully, with the help of some planning, it has been done completely unseen.

As the circle connecting him to his origin point closes, he’s left alone in a dusty alleyway. It’s much too dim to catch the glisten of his golden horns, three of them emerging from beneath dark brown hair like a crown. Brass tubing circles over his shoulders and around to his back like armor, concealed under a short cape. If someone were to see him, they’d likely believe he was in cosplay.

However, the mirrored badge affixed to his chest is the only thing of importance that he carries beyond his mission.

For this young man, known to the Magnifique as “Ibuki,” this mission seems just as simple as it does difficult. He is tasked with locating a rogue Magus. Or at least that’s what Beat Magi independent of the Magnifique are classified as.

Stepping out into the street, Ibuki takes on his civilian appearance. The leather jacket he was wearing earlier was much warmer than his Magus form anyways.

“Treble Magus Ibuki,” his father’s orders echoed in his head, “Your first mission as a purifier is to hunt down the rogue Magus we’ve detected in Tokyo.”

Despite his questioning, Ibuki wasn’t able to pull much information from his father, Michibiki. However, he was able to discern from several weeks worth of logs kept in the Conservatory that the rogue Magus was at the very least not currently a threat. Hunt seemed too hostile a word to describe finding someone who hadn’t been participating in corruptions or exhibiting usual Bass Magus behavior. Ibuki likely didn’t need to be so on guard for this purification.

Yet there was a twist of uncertainty in his stomach. Uncertainty that whoever this person was would be something unusual, and unusual often meant dangerous.

Glancing at the mirrored badge, his Reflector, he’s unable to see anything. With such a large area to cover, of course it wouldn’t detect the person he needed to find so easily. Ibuki frowns and pockets the mirror, deciding to find another place to scan.

He had to find this Magus.

/////

Hidaka Hitoshi didn’t think he’d ever undergo a transformation like this so late in his life. Well, 31 wasn’t the age of an old timer, but Hitoshi didn’t waste any time calling himself an “old man” the minute he reached 30.

Moreso, he didn’t quite understand why the mirror he carried had manifested in front of him not too long ago or why it did to his body what it did, but he liked it. He felt light, powerful, and full of energy.

In the park, he’s training: running with weights strapped to his ankles and wrists. It feels a little basic to him, like he should be trying something a little more complex and challenging, but the way his body would change thanks to the mirror was already complex enough to him. And more importantly: he had no clue how to use whatever it was exactly the mirror was meant to enable. It was a lot more simple for Hitoshi to focus on what he already knew how to do. He could run, lift weights, balance himself. His body as it already was was something he pushed to train and hone constantly. Surely, that would eventually rub onto whatever this new power was.

And whatever it was, Hitoshi had decided it was magic. At least the mirror seemed to be. It always seemed that when Hitoshi held the mirror just right or expressed the right amount of enthusiasm, something from the mirror would consume him. Maybe it was magic, maybe he was magic.

A few finger flicks in his new form would prove his suspicions usually. An uneven circle would trace the movement of his finger, sparks flying as it wobbled in an oblong shape before breaking. He didn’t get how it worked, but he knew there was something more to it he hadn’t figured out yet.

So when Hibiki reaches the end of his run, careful to conceal himself in a more wooded area off of the trail, he doesn’t take the chance to cool down. Rather, this was a warm up as he pulls out the mirror. Holding it to his face, he sees a look of determination in his eyes staring back into him.

Today he’ll figure this out.

“Go! Change!” he calls before he feels his body be whirled around. It almost appears for a second that he passes through the mirror, his appearance changing as he emerges from the other side.

There is a weight pressing down lightly on either side of his head, previous examination had shown they were horns, like a demon. A dark purple bodysuit clings to him, silver armor wrapped over his chest and around to his back. His arms are fully covered in fabric, the dark purple fading to a crimson red the closer it gets to his hands. At least this form granted him comfy sneakers and shorts to offset the otherwise ornamented appearance.

The mirror affixed itself to the material on his chest, between a gap in the armor. Had he been able to look in it, his reflection would have shown the same determined look, now covered in red markings that wrapped around his cheeks.

Hitoshi had only been able to turn into this for a few weeks, but he had already transformed plenty of times, each time easier to manage than the last. He had also chosen to name his new self “Hibiki”, after the delicate bell sound that chimed and resonated sweetly with his every movement.

Becoming “Hibiki” felt lifechanging.

It was time to resume his training.

//////

Ibuki’s eyes go wide as his Reflector picks up on something, a careful warmth emitting from his pocket. By now, he’s out of the busier part of the city and coming up on a park. Fishing the Reflector out of his pocket, he checks to see what it is detecting: a hazy vision of deep purple amidst abundant greenery, he can’t make out the face or much other details.

Finding a bench, Ibuki props up his foot to pretend to retie his boot to conceal the magic circle he traces onto the wood beside him. Once a couple briskly strides by on the park’s path and is out of view, Ibuki whistles softly to coax something out from the circle. It solidifies and unfolds into a cobra, his familiar.

“I’m counting on you,” he reassures. “Let’s find this rogue Magus.”

The cobra nods in understanding, slithering off of the bench and into the grass towards the magic signal’s source. Patting his boot as if he finished his job, Ibuki straightens himself and follows.

Through a field, he is lead into the woods. He’s not on the park’s path, which is equally a good sign and a bad sign. Was this Magus looking to attack people from the bushes? It would be a perfect set up, it would have taken the Takeshi even longer to receive reports or information on anything so isolated had this person managed a mass corruption out of the park goers.

But the information he received indicated that this person wasn’t hostile, so that couldn’t be it, right?

/////

After some time, Ibuki hears the soft ringing of small bells. His familiar slithers along, winding itself around a tree and indicating with its tail that their objective isn’t too far ahead.

Ibuki readies his Reflector, creeping closer to spot someone dressed in what was most definitely the garb of a Beat Magus. Watching for a moment, he observed as this other Magus, alone in a clearing in the brush and trees, attempted to draw a magic circle. Or rather, he watched as this other Magus impatiently snapped his fingers until something faintly sparked.

“Come oooooon!!! I had it before!” the Magus groans in frustration, prompting Ibuki to laugh. The Magus snaps his head in Ibuki’s direction. “Who’s there…?”

Locking eyes, Ibuki realizes staying concealed, or trying to, is useless. Stepping into full view of this other person, he watches the full range of emotions run across this other Magus’s face. He realizes this other guy looks a fair bit older than him.

Surprise, confusion, that look someone gives when they know they’re in trouble, and then a smile completely intended to hide his nerves. Ibuki knows these expressions despite not knowing this guy, he’s seen them all before from tagging along for purifications with his mother.

“Hey, kid. What brings you out here? The path is back that way, you know.” The Magus laughs, nudging his thumb to gesture behind him.

“I’m actually here for you.”

There is a look of confusion on the Magus’s face.

“I’ve been sent by the Magnifique’s Japanese branch, Takeshi.” Presenting his Reflector to the other Magus like a detective’s badge, Ibuki flicks it in front of himself to activate his transformation and marches forward. Passing through the light that reflects onto him, he’s now in his own Magus uniform. “Treble Magus Ibuki. I’ve been sent to purify you.”

“And I’m Hibiki!” The joyous reply almost knocks Ibuki off balance.

“I-I… I just said I was going to purify you!” Ibuki stutters, trying to keep his cool. Didn’t this guy understand the kind of situation he was in? “Doesn’t that make you worried?!”

“Oh, I guess it should.” Hibiki blinks. Eyeing Ibuki from head to toe, he smiles. “But there is another guy out there just like me. That actually makes me feel a lot less worried!”

“Eh…?”

Now Ibuki can see why the information on this Magus was not only lacking, but oddly tame for someone considered “rogue”.

He wasn’t sure this Magus was much of one at all.

Chapter Text

“Say, can you tell me what this thing even is?” Gesturing to the mirror on his chest, Hibiki looks down at it and then to Ibuki. “You got one too so I’m assuming you know.”

Of course his first purification mission goes like this. Ibuki sighs, pressing his palm to his forehead and shaking his head. Was this guy playing dumb?

“It’s a Reflector, didn’t the Magus Saint tell you that already?”

“Who?”

“The Magus Saint.” Ibuki furrows his brow. “Don’t… tell me you haven’t met the Magus Saint. That’s impossible.”

“Never heard of them.” HIbiki says, his tone flat, clueless.

With a huff, Ibuki rests his hands on his hips and looks the other Magus up and down. He was a bit shorter than Ibuki, but a lot stockier. The tight bodysuit showed off that Hibiki was well-toned which explained the sporty Magus form.

Eyes settle on the badge nestled between the gap in Hibiki’s armor. The Reflector is shining brightly, even under the cover of the trees. Paired with the friendly and curious expression Hibiki had, it seemed like Ibuki could finally confirm that this guy wasn’t a Bass Magus much less a potential threat.

There was not a single thing to purify.

“So am I still under arrest?”

Ibuki shakes his head. “No. Not really, but you can’t stay like this. I’m gonna have to take you back to the Conservatory.”

“Cons-“ Hibiki blinks, sputters a little, and skitters back, “You just said I wasn’t under arrest!”

“You never were! It was supposed to be a purification, I was supposed to purify you!” Ibuki gestures to Hibiki, arms flailing up and down, “But there isn’t anything to purify!”

“Then I don’t need to go to the Consortium!” Hibiki continues to back away. Ibuki paces closer so not to let him get away.

“It’s the Conservatory, are you even listening?!”

“Hey.” Hibiki stops, takes one good, quick look over his shoulder and grins a little sheepishly. “I’m gonna run away now, okay? This is weirder than I thought it was gonna be.”

Before Ibuki can say anything more, HIbiki has already turned tail, jumping over a bush before sprinting away. It takes a moment for it to register before Ibuki realizes he can’t lose the Magus now.
Breaking into his own dash, he whistles for his familiar. The cobra leaves its perch and joins the pursuit.

Tracing another circle in the air, Ibuki uses this to summon another familiar to help. A small, red bird coos once it emerges from the spell and darts forwards to keep up with Hibiki better.

“Wait, wait up!!!” Ibuki calls out, still able to see Hibiki ahead of him.

There is a flash of light that dissipates rather quickly telling him Hibiki has lost the ability to hold his transformation. A relief as he realized they were likely running back to the park’s main path. Ibuki considers dropping his transformation before realizing something.

He can use magic. Duh.

“Tatsumaki!” Whirling his index in a spiral pattern, like someone would tauntingly spin a ring of keys, Ibuki flicks his magic circle out towards Hibiki. Trailing after him, the markings slide under his feet and capture him in a strong band of wind that wraps around his ankles, tripping him.

Hibiki flails his arms as he collapses to the ground with a loud grunt. The bird familiar perches on his head, pecking curiously as Hibiki groans. He waves to the bird, as if to assume it was checking on him and to say he was alright.

“Geez,” Ibuki pants out as he finally catches up, dropping his transformation the minute he’s at Hibiki’s side. “You run too fast.”

“Thanks, I train!” Hibiki responds cheerily before pausing to remember his situation and pushing himself up by his hands to roll over. His feet are still bound by the magic, however the wind seems more pliable now with Ibuki untransformed. Attempting to spread his ankles allows the ring to stretch, but not break.

“Hey, can you let me out of this?”

“Are you going to run again?”

“Yes.”

Inhaling, Ibuki tries to keep himself calm, losing his cool was clearly not helping. “I appreciate the honesty. Look, I’m not going to take you to jail or anything. I just need to report back to the place I came from and show you to them.”

“That sounds like you’re taking me to the police station. You even acted like a cop.” Hibiki imitates the way Ibuki held out his Reflector earlier. “Am I doing something illegal? Is magic illegal? Are you a magic cop??”

The flustered panic in Hibiki’s voice makes Ibuki realize what kind of hole he’s dug. If the guy was this much of a novice, then obviously someone coming at him the way Ibuki did was going to be unsettling and weird.

“No, it’s not illegal, and I’m not a cop.” Finally, Ibuki is calming himself down, his breathing even. “We aren’t supposed to be openly displaying it, but if you promise not to run, I’ll tell you everything, okay?”

Hibiki purses his lips like he’s in thought at the offer. Studying Ibuki, his legs fidget with the restraint again. No dice, it won’t break. And Hibiki did want to learn more about how to use these powers, it was a lot easier than struggling to figure it out himself.

Cracking a big, cheery smile, he nods. “I promise!”

“Good, okay.” Voices further down the path catch Ibuki’s attention, someone was coming. Quickly, he flicks his finger and thumb at the restraints, the band around Hibiki’s ankles dissipating. “You’re okay, right?”

Hibiki gives Ibuki a rough pat on the shoulder and jumps to his feet. Dusting himself off, he smiles. “Don’t worry about that, I’m well trained!”

“That doesn’t exactly make you impervious to injury.” Ibuki laughs. “I’m Iori, by the way.”

/////

Seated at a café, Iori takes a sip of his tea. His legs are crossed under the table and a small plate of finger sandwiches is placed before him. Across the table, Hibiki has a stack of pancakes to dig into.
Setting the cup down, Iori clears his throat.

“Hibiki isn’t your real name.”

“No, but it’s cool, isn’t it?” Hibiki says, taking a bite of pancake. Iori sighs. “You called yourself Ibuki before. So it’s okay if I’m Hibiki.”

“It’s a performance name, I don’t use it outside of that. Is something wrong with your real name?” Iori slides his sandwich plate to the side. He’ll pick at it once he gets some answers.

Hibiki shakes his head and swallows. “Hidaka Hitoshi, Jounan high school gym teacher. That’s what you’re looking for, right?”

“Yes, but…” Placing his fingers to his chin in thought, Iori muses aloud. “Being a teacher explains why you seem older. But a gym teacher? That makes no sense for a Beat Magus…”

“A what?” Hibiki- or rather Hitoshi- looks up from his plate, mouth full and a spot of syrup glistening on his lower lip.

“A Beat Magus, that’s what we are.” Iori rests his Reflector on the table. “We use these, the Reflectors, to perform magic. I guess the simplest way to put it is a magician that uses the power of music to help others. It goes a lot deeper than that. Do you really not know anything about this? You really didn’t meet the Magus Saint?”

Shaking his head, Hitoshi licks the syrup from his lip and reaches for his glass of juice. “No, just one day I found the mirror and the next it let me turn into Hibiki.”

“And that’s also unusual. It can’t just do that. See, everyone has one of these mirrors, but they’re usually not usable. They need to be awakened, we call that being ‘Reflected’, and usually that’s something the Magus Saint decides.” Iori takes another sip of his tea and watches Hitoshi continue to eat. “Not a single person in our organization, the Magnifique, has been capable of Reflecting without seeing her.”

“Maybe she skipped my house.”

“Unlikely, she’s always right.” Finally picking at a sandwich, Iori takes a bite. Politely, he chews and swallows before he moves on. “Besides that, a gym teacher seems like an odd pick even if she did grant you your power. Only those who are musically inclined tend to receive the privilege.”

Hitoshi sits back in the chair. “I play the drums. Though what does music have to do with any of this?”

“Drummer, noted.” Iori nods, finishing one of the small sandwiches and reaching for his tea again, “Then you’re probably able to use percussive magic. As for why music, it’s the universal language.”

“I thought that was English.” Hitoshi says blankly. It sounds like a joke, executed while Iori is mid-sip, causing him to choke and spit the tea back into the cup.

“N-no! Not that kind of language!” Accepting a napkin that Hitoshi hands over, Iori coughs into it to clear his throat. “It’s a feeling thing, everyone can understand that! The whole point of our magic is music and feeling. If you let me take you to the Conservatory, we can get someone to actually teach you how it all works.”

Coughing a little more, Iori tries to read Hitoshi’s expression over the napkin. Pancakes mostly finished in front of him, the man is leaned back in the chair with his arm crossed. It’s hard to discern what he’s thinking, but Iori can only assume that Hitoshi still doesn’t want to listen to him.

A waitress comes by to refill their drinks.

“If I never met this saint lady, then I don’t have to go to the Conservatory, right?” Hitoshi finally asks.

“Not meeting the Magus Saint is all the more reason for you to go. The Takeshi already has record of your existence, I got sent here specifically because there was concern that you were a threat to society.” Furrowing his brow, Iori leans into the table. “It’s better to prove your innocence if you come with me.”

“I’ll think about it.” Hitoshi mumbles through an unconvincing pout which nearly makes Iori groan.

His first purification mission was never meant to be so difficult, and if Iori returned empty handed, his mission would be deemed a failure. His father, the head of the Takeshi, wouldn’t berate him for this, but it would certainly tarnish his record and he didn’t want to be the cause of disappointment.

In the midst of Iori’s thinking, Hitoshi returns to polishing off his meal. Although stubborn, he can’t see the older man as being dishonest. Would he have gone more willingly had he met with the Magus Saint? That gives Iori an idea.

Once Hitoshi finishes his pancakes, Iori slides his remaining sandwiches over in offering.

“Let’s say I arrange for us to meet the Magus Saint, will that make up your mind for you?”

Chapter Text

Sneakers squeaking against the gym floor, the blow of a whistle, and the calls of teammates to each other in the heat of a game were all Iori could hear from just outside the gymnasium. He rest with his back against a closed door leading inside, a visitor pass stickied to his sweater. After a while, he turns to glance through an open door beside him to catch Hitoshi in the midst of a game of handball with his students.

Hitoshi catches a long pass from the other side of the court, takes a few heavy strides, and then lobs the ball at the goal. The goalkeeper catches it and the students on Hitoshi’s team groan.

“Haha, whoops!” Hitoshi laughs it off, sidelining himself. “That was a good catch though!”

Realistically, Iori thinks Hitoshi would make a great Magus. He certainly had the demeanor for it. He was a lot more capable than he let on, he could have blitzed the ball into that goal easily. And why didn’t he? That was an easy answer, Iori knew. Hitoshi didn’t need to prove himself or belittle people, he was already encouraging and respected by his students. Part of the purpose for his visit was to observe Hitoshi in his element.

The other part was figuring how exactly to get the Magus Saint to appear for him.

/////

“You can arrange something like that?” Hitoshi had asked, accepting Iori’s unwanted sandwiches. “Are you some kind of magic royalty that can go around and summon saints whenever you need them?”

“Well… “ Iori trails off, he did certainly have some kind of standing he assumed. His father was currently the Takeshi’s executive Magus. “Is that a yes?”

/////

Iori honestly had no clue how to summon the Magus Saint.

Her visits were supposed to special, few and far between. She would manifest as the vision to grant a fledgling Magus power, that was supposed to be the only guarantee. He had only seen her once himself when he was 12. Other than that, everything else he knew was derived from written records and reports.

“Yo!”

Breaking Iori out of his thoughts, he jumps and turns to see Hitoshi peeking around the door at him.

“Don’t you want to come in and watch?” Hitoshi points back to the game still ongoing in the gymnasium. “It’s kinda weird for you to stand out here like this.”

“I don’t want to confuse your students.”

“Pssh, they’re already confused that I got some weird kid standing outside, just get in here or admin won’t let me have you come back.” Retreating back into the gym, the tapping of his sneakers on the wood tell that Hitoshi has jumped back into playing handball. From the protest of the students, this time on the opposing team from what he was on before.

Pursing his lips into a straight line, Iori sighs and turns around to enter the gym. He wasn’t planning to come back, at least he was hoping not to. After this, he was going to find some way to get the Magus Saint to appear and that was going to be all he needed to whisk Hitoshi away to the Conservatory.

Climbing into the bleachers, Iori sits with his hands clasped together. Elbows rest on his knees as he leans forward, pressing his hands against his face in thought.

“What’s a little Magus doing here?” A voice whispers into Iori’s ear.

On instinct, he whips around to see no one. Eyes dart around the gym, not spotting anyone peculiar and he wonders what that just was. His imagination? Iori carefully settles down, a little more on guard than before.

“Cute. You should see your face~” The whisper is back, taunting. Iori jumps to his feet, scanning the room for the source. It clearly knows what he is and who he is. “Surely you could make a cuter face than this.”

He can’t detect its approach, but something appears behind him, blindsiding him with a rough shove before he can turn around to register what it is. Iori tumbles down the bleachers, thankfully from only a few steps up and groans. He can tell the handball game has stopped with the sound of his tumble. Now there are just panicked whispers between the students who seem to be shuffling together.

Glancing up, he sees a figure standing a few levels up. A red, horned mask covers half of the figure’s face, brown tufts of curled hair spilling out around the mask and outlining his face. He has a single, smaller green horn coming from his head and an extravagant costume lined with fur, silk, and other patterned clashing fabrics. In his hands, a closed parasol. On his chest, a Reflector tainted completely black with tarnish and rust.

“Kabuki….” Iori grumbles under his breath as he pushes himself up with more than a few winces. He’s going to dread tending to his bruises later.

“Moooore like Bass Magus Kabuki~” the other Magus sings. He leaps from the bleachers and lands on the gymnasium floor a bit away from Iori. “Say, little guy. I’m kinda bored, why don’t you do something to entertain me?”

Kabuki’s heterochromatic eyes sweep over the room. He grins at Hitoshi, and then looks over the group of teens that had gathered behind him. With his arms spread to keep his students behind him, Hitoshi stares down the Magus while backing away.

“Mmmm…. That one will do!” Kabuki breaks into a large, deranged smile. There is a click from his parasol that draws a blade and with a twirl, Kabuki vanishes in a whirl of cherry blossom petals.

Hitoshi blinks and sighs, letting his guard down for a moment.

“Wait, behind….!” Iori calls out just as there is another whirl of petals.

Kabuki manifests behind the group and plunges his blade through one of the female students. It doesn’t draw any blood, in fact the only damage it seems to do is push a reflective badge out of her. The mirror speared on the edge of his blade is damaged, nearly shattered. When he pulls the sword back, the badge reenters her and she screams, clutching her chest and collapsing to her knees.

“Akira?!” Hitoshi hurries to her side, bewildered when he sees no wounds. “Kid, are you alright?!”

Kabuki laughs, and sheathes his blade. “Oh, she’s probably doing better than you will be in a bit.”

And no sooner does he say that does Akira rise to her feet. A whirlwind surrounds her, throwing Hitoshi and several of the students back. When the gusts die down, Akira is different. Her hair is disheveled, windblown. A single horn protrudes from the side of her head and her gaze is wide-eyed and cold. To Hitoshi, she looks like a Magus similar to Ibuki, but more deranged and with large, clawed gloved hands. The damaged mirror is affixed to her chest.

Kabuki continues to laugh.

Hitoshi springs to his feet and grabs Akira. “Kid, get it together!”

She smacks him away with her hand and then attempts to lunge at him. Hitoshi hits the ground and rolls out of the way.

“Get the kids out of here!” Iori hurries up, reaching to help Hitoshi off the ground as quickly as possible before Akira attacks again.

“Now that’s the kind of cute expression I was looking for~” Kabuki coos at Iori’s attempt to maintain composure. “I have to say I’m thoroughly satisfied.”

Before Iori can make a rebuttal, Kabuki bows and vanishes with a whirl of petals. He curses under his breath and then turns his attention to low, guttural growl approaching him. It’s Akira. Iori stumbles back to avoid a swipe made at him.

“Seriously, Hitoshi, get the kids OUT!”

No need to tell him again. Hitoshi nods and starts to shove his kids towards the door. Several look back in terrified confusion, but Hitoshi waves a salute to them and somehow it seems to convince them that he’ll be alright.

Geez, what kind of guy is he?!

Or that’s what Iori would have been thinking had he not been busy trying to hold off and avoid Akira’s attacks. Once the students were gone, Iori pulls out his Reflector and flicks it underneath himself.

“Detail!” he calls out, and transforms.

Now as Ibuki, he’s more willing to grab Akira’s wrist, her clawed hands unable to reach him so long as he keeps a good hold. The girl lets out a feral scream and kicks Ibuki in the gut to get him to release her. It works and he stumbles back into Hitoshi.

“What are you still doing here? You should get out too!” Ibuki says as Hitoshi pushes him back to his feet.

“Akira is my responsibility, I should help.” Hitoshi states, more serious than what Ibuki is used to. Pulling out his own Reflector he looks at it and then to Akira. “Change.”

Transforming into Hibiki with a fiery scattering of light, he seems different to Ibuki. Much different compared to the carefree dunce he found in the park the previous day.

But that didn’t mean anything when he didn’t have any knowledge of spells.

Akira glares between the two of them as Hibiki steps forward, deciding to continue her attempts at fighting Ibuki. This time, it’s Hibiki that grabs her. Grabbing her arms, Hibiki flips her around and captures her in an unbreakable bear hug from behind. Her limbs still free, she flails wildly, but Hibiki is strong enough to keep her from getting free.

“Ibuki, this is all I know I can do!” Hibiki calls, “What do we do now?!”

“Purification.” Ibuki states. He traces the edges of his Reflector and from it draws a weapon. It’s a gun that doesn’t look too far off from a trumpet, complete with valves and a mouthpiece stored in a gap in the frontwards tubing, yet the bell is missing.

“That’s- That’s not purification!” Hibiki says in a panic, shifting so he’s holding Akira away from Ibuki. “That’s a gun, you can’t just shoot her!”

“Maybe if you agreed to come with me to the Conservatory in the first place, you’d have learned that this isn’t going to hurt her!” Ibuki quips, aiming at Akira regardless. “If you don’t trust me with this, then she’s going to become worse.”

“It’s a gun!” Hibiki emphasizes again. Akira growls and struggles in his grip, her head turned towards him and teeth gnashing as if she’s trying to bite him. It was true, he couldn’t leave her like this, and this state was already pretty bad. It was terrifying and painful to see.

“This is my job, this is what a Treble Magus does!” Ibuki inhales and steadies his hand. He’s a good shot, but with Hibiki half-protecting Akira, he wasn’t guaranteed to land the hit. “Hibiki, please.”

Akira thrashes and screams. Hibiki sucks in a deep breath and rolls his eyes, he has no other choice. “Fine!”

Turning to hold Akira still and give Ibuki a clear shot, he turns his head and braces himself. Ibuki closes an eye, aiming for the damaged Reflector. Several magic circles manifest and spin in front of him like a scope.

“Shippuu Issen!” Pulling the trigger, the blast knocks Ibuki back. A ball of light and wind zips through the air and the magic circles, shattering them. “Hibiki, move!”

Just before it strikes Akira, Hibiki hesitates, but flings her forward into the blast. He ducks out of the way as she’s thrown back into the padded gym wall. The light sinks into the mirror and into her before scattering. It’s blinding, but when it fades, the two see Akira, back to normal, passed out on the floor.

“Kid?!” Hibiki scurries towards her, turning her over and breathing a sigh of relief when he sees she’s unscathed and breathing. “She’s alright…”

“I told you.” Ibuki is at his side now, spinning the gun coolly in his hand. “That was a purification of a corrupted individual. She’s going to be fine, maybe a bit fatigued when she wakes up.”

Hibiki sighs, gathering Akira in his arms and getting to his feet. He rests her on the bleachers and frowns.

“Does this happen all the time?”

“It’s not supposed to.” Ibuki admits. “Kabuki wasn’t on my radar at all. I got sent here to take care of you, he slipped through every crack imaginable. Even my Reflector didn’t detect him.”

Hibiki scratches his head and huffs. “And your saint lady allows this?”

“No, she’d never let someone with bad intentions have this kind of power.” Ibuki holds up his gun and lets it dissolve back into a circle of magic. “She was the one who designated positions like mine. Reflectors are fragile, I said our power was derived from music and feeling. Our feelings are what determine what happens to us.”

There is a moment of quiet between the two. Hibiki looks at Akira intently and then turns to Ibuki. Ibuki can tell he has something to say, but out the corner of his eye, a vision catches his attention.

And it catches Hibiki’s too.

Instinctively, both Magi turn to shield the unconscious girl from whatever is coming. Something is manifesting before them as light spills from seemingly nowhere. However, unlike when Kabuki was around, it seems to wash over them with warmth. It feels safe.

From the core of it all, a woman appears. Layers of satin and silk robes flow around her elegantly with the rotation of energy that seemed to be sustaining her appearance.

To Ibuki, her face was gentle, motherly. In fact, she looked almost exactly like his mother.

Looking between the two, the woman smiles sweetly and Ibuki can’t help but breathe out her name.

“Saint… Cecilia…?”

“Ibuki…?” Hibiki asks at almost the same time, his mouth hanging open in disbelief.

“Huh…?” Ibuki turns his head to respond, but tracks Hibiki’s gaze. The question wasn’t directed at him specifically. Something doesn’t sit right with him as he starts puzzling together what Hibiki is seeing.

“I didn’t realize you were a god.” He’s still talking to the woman. She laughs in response. “You’re kinda cute like that.”

Ibuki blushes heavily and grabs Hibiki’s wrist roughly, shaking his arm. “N-no?! I’m right here!! That’s the Magus Saint!”

Sparing one look at Ibuki, Hibiki pauses, then looks to the Magus Saint to compare their faces.

“Are you related?”

“No! The… the Magus Saint just looks different for different people! Usually what you think she’d look like or someone impressionable to you or someone that inspires you…” Ibuki trails off, voice growing softer as he runs out of breath. He takes a moment to inhale, trying to ease out of being so flustered. At least from the clueless look on Hibiki’s face, he seems to be paying no mind to the blush on Ibuki’s cheeks. “To me… she looks like my mother.”

“I’ve never seen your mom before.” Hibiki notes before Cecilia speaks up.

“Little Magi,” her voice resonates softly through them. It’s sweet and comforting, and there is an echo akin to a song that follows after it. “Or perhaps I should refer to you first, Treble Magus Hibiki. This seems to be our first meeting.”

“If you’re not actually Ibuki, then I guess it is!’ Hibiki’s lighthearted address makes Ibuki grimace. The Magus Saint doesn’t seem bothered.

“You’re awfully special.” Cecilia reaches to rest a hand on Hibiki’s head. “My darling Magus, you’ve already gone off and Reflected without my initiation. There must be something you so desperately want to do.”

Hibiki blinks. “I guess…? I don’t know what.”

Cecilia gives him a knowing look and strokes his hair softly. He’s starting to see why Ibuki envisions her to look like his mother.

“Your sound is pure enough, you’ll realize it. And I know you’ll do well. You just need a little help is all.” She diverts her attention to Ibuki. He’s standing a little stiffly, trying to be formal, even as she begins to pat his head as well. “Dear Ibuki, can I entrust you to guide him? You’re more than skilled for your age, and he seems to already have a great deal of affection for you.”

Through her kind smile, made more taunting from someone with his mother’s face, Ibuki wonders if she can tell how twisted his stomach becomes at her comment. It doesn’t show, her face unreadable. His Reflector gleams a dusty pink as he tries to swallow down the emotion.

“Y-yes, Magus Saint!” Ibuki feels his hair being smoothed down around his horns by the saint’s delicate hand.

Then he feels her aura begin to dissipate.

“Wait, where are you going?” Hibiki asks after her as she retreats. There is no response. Once she’s gone, he turns to Ibuki. “Are her visits always like this?”

“Depends on the situation.” Ibuki nods and then stops short, shaking his head and looking HIbiki in the eye. “Nevermind that, think of someone else when she appears from now on! Please!!”

“Who else am I supposed to think of?! You’re the only magic music guy I know!”

“That’s not it, don’t you have a mom or something?!”

“I bet your mom is one of these magic music people too, isn’t she? Of course you think of her!” Hibiki pouts. “No need to get so worked up about it.”

Ibuki feels halfway deranged as he prepares to tell Hibiki that imagining a guy he only recently met as the Magus Saint AND calling him cute was absolutely not how to go about things, but bites his tongue. Instead, he shakes himself out of his flustered state as best as he can. He still has his hold on Hibiki’s wrist.

“Anyways, I was told to guide you, wasn’t I? And you clearly need it. You promised you’d come to the Conservatory if you met her.”

Hibiki glances back at Akira who is still asleep on the bleachers. Ibuki can tell he’s worried and clears his throat.

“She’ll wake up soon and not remember what happened. It’s okay, we’re not leaving forever.” Though Ibuki can’t guarantee how soon Hibiki would be back. Granted he was sure it would be sooner rather than later, it wasn’t like Hibiki was allowed to live at the Conservatory in the way Ibuki was.

“Right…”

Taking this as permission, Ibuki flicks his fingers in circle as he had done many time before. A vision of blue watercolor swirls into view, forming into his magic circle which proceeds to expand into a larger gate.

Tugging Hibiki along by the wrist, Ibuki leaps through the gate and the two find themselves at the Conservatory.

Chapter Text

With Ibuki’s insistence to bring him back to this place and the unreal encounter with the Magus Saint, Hibiki expected the Conservatory to be far more mystical and ethereal in appearance. If anything, he didn’t expect to exit through Ibuki’s gate and find himself still on Earth.

From the outside, the Conservatory looked like a normal building.

Sitting in the woods wedged behind a shrine, the Conservatory was around three or four floors high. Large, dark windows lined the building, making it appear nearly invisible as it reflected the surrounding trees. It was nearly perfectly camouflaged from this alone.

“Hey, this is still Japan.” Hibiki frowns. “All that insistence and we’re still in Japan.”

“Where did you think we were going?” Ibuki releases his hold on Hibiki’s wrist as the gate closes behind him.

“I kinda pictured someplace a little more magical. Maybe with some dancing brooms and a flying whale.”

“You must watch too many movies.” With a snort, Ibuki waves for Hibiki to follow him towards the shrine. “We’re in Yoshino. It’s a five hour drive from Tokyo so if you don’t see any flying whales there, you’re absolutely not going to see them here. Normal people live here. Normally.”

Following along, Hibiki stuffs his hands into his pockets and looks around curiously as they take a path around the shrine. The place was completely empty. Probably good if they were still in their Magus forms, unless the people here were used to that. That was doubtful considering Ibuki’s emphasis on there being normal villagers.

“By the way,” Ibuki speaks up once they’re just outside the building. Coming to a stop directly before the automatic sliding door, it opens and then closes shortly after when neither enter. “When we meet with the Executive Magus, could you let me do all the talking? Like, entirely all of it and you say nothing?”

“Not even a hello?” Hibiki asks, confusion in his tone.

“No, not that, you can say hi, but the Executive Magus is my dad.” Digging the toe of his boot into the ground, Ibuki looks straight into his reflection on the automatic door. “The Magus Saint is easygoing, she’s patient with everyone no matter how they speak to her. My father isn’t exactly like that, he’ll want some respect. Besides, you were my mission, he’ll need to hear what I have to say first and foremost.”

“Are you saying I can’t talk to someone with respect? I know all about that!” Crossing his arms with a huff, Hibiki frowns. “I teach kids how to do it all the time.”

It was fair for him to seem offended at Ibuki’s implication. Ibuki watches his reflection’s brows raise as he realizes this.

“I’m sorry.” He turns to Hibiki, “I don’t mean to imply you’re rude. Father is a bit strict is all, and I have to prove to him my judgement in bringing you here.”

Not wanting to waste any more time, especially standing directly outside the Conservatory’s front door, Ibuki gives a nervous laugh and proceeds through the door that reopens at his approach.

Inside, it’s like a standard office building. Just across the lobby’s ornately tiled floor, is a receptionist’s desk bearing a large lotus insignia flanked by two unmoving security guards. A woman in a bright pink blouse is seated behind it and as the two approach her, Hibiki notices she wears a pin with the same symbol.

“Welcome back, Ibuki. Thank you for your hard work.” The receptionist greets, bowing her head respectfully. Her smile is cheery as she looks between the two Magi. “If you’re back to debrief with Executive Magus Michibiki, he’s in his office.”

“Thank you.” Ibuki bows his head to her in response and waves his hand for Hibiki to follow. As Hibiki passes the desk, he awkwardly bows to the woman. Her response is just as awkward, quick and stiff as she mentally questions who he is.

Ibuki’s cape fans out as he marches down the hallway, making him look absolutely out of place in the standard office building setting. Hibiki felt natural in his transformed state, but seeing the other Magus navigate what looked every aspect of real, normal life seemed bizarre. If anything, it was proof of how well hidden this Beat Magus thing was.

“That lady seemed okay with us.” Hibiki notes when they reach the elevator hallway. The building only had about four floors, but there was a row of three elevators each on either side of the hall.

Ibuki presses a button to call for the elevator and stands back. “She’s part of the Takeshi, of course she’s okay with us. I see her all the time.”

An up arrow flashes over one of the doors as it slides open. The Magi step inside and Ibuki presses a button for the fourth floor.

“Do you usually walk around here dressed like that?”

Eyeing up Ibuki’s uniform, Hibiki is noticing things he hadn’t before. Granted, both times he had seen Ibuki in his Magus form, there was too much panic to focus on little details. He had always noticed the cape, but now seeing it rest on shoulders so casually made him look like he was in a cosplay.

Then there was the flowing piece of fabric that flowed out from behind Ibuki’s belt which covered some of what was arguably the weirdest part of his uniform. Just below his belt, the bodysuit he wore fit like a leotard, the leg holes cut rather high. The tights that ran down Ibuki’s legs and into his boots did start just below the leotard’s cut, but still left a smooth, pale area of exposed hip and upper thigh.

Not that Hibiki really cared if Ibuki wanted to expose a little leg, but they were on the way to see his dad. This wasn’t usual going-to-visit-my-father attire.

“No?” Ibuki answers cluelessy, “But I also don’t have to debrief missions as Treble Magus Ibuki every time I come here.”

Averting his gaze, Hibiki finds it endearing that Ibuki is so used to his uniform, he doesn’t get how weird it is. Then again, he probably looked just as weird to Ibuki. He could only assume what someone titled the Executive Magus was going to wind up looking like.

The elevator dings as they reach their floor. Another hallway for them to navigate.

The Executive Magus’s office is naturally the final door set directly at the end of the hallway and carefully labeled with “EXECUTIVE MICHIBIKI” on a placard just above it. Ibuki knocks twice before letting himself and Hibiki in. Shutting the door carefully behind him, he turns to face his father.

Just like everything else in this building, the office is large and well furnished. The space is made larger by the floor to ceiling windows that surround it in place of solid walls. There is a seating area of a couple couches flanking a small coffee table in one area of the room. On the other side of the room, there are several shelves lined with books and a small assortment of musical instruments on display. Michibiki is seated at a large mahogany desk, navigating something on a dual-monitored computer quickly before glancing to Ibuki. His brow furrows when he shifts his eyes to look at Hibiki. Then his expression instantly eases.

“Welcome back, Ibuki.” Michibiki removes his glasses, placing them on the desk as he swivels his highbacked leather desk chair to stand.

This man is nothing like how Hibiki would have imagined him. Whereas he expected another ridiculous Beat Magus uniform, Michibiki is in a simple black suit, the same lotus pin the receptionist had fixed to his lapel. There is definitely a resemblance to Ibuki in the man’s facial shape and especially in his height. Looking no older than his mid-40’s, his dark hair was only starting to show sprinklings of gray throughout.

“Executive Michibiki, thank you.” Ibuki bows to his father, snapping his fingers at Hibiki to do the same.

“You’ve brought a friend?”

“Ah, yes, well…” Ibuki raises his head and gestures to Hibiki with a hand. “I was able to locate the rogue Magus you assigned me to purify. However, I ran into an issue.”

“No purification was needed.” Michibiki steps around his desk and up to Hibiki. Leaning in, he takes a closer look at the man’s Reflector. Hibiki instantly stiffens at the closeness. With this man being described as strict, it was only a natural reaction. “This is him?”

“Yes. His Reflector shows absolutely no sign of corruption, but he was never Reflected by the Magus Saint herself.”

“And would this new Magus be able to tell me exactly how he was able to Reflect?” Standing up straight again, Michibiki addresses Hibiki directly, who in turn looks to Ibuki for direction.

Ibuki nods with interest, wanting Hibiki to speak. Relieved at the go-ahead, the Magus looks up to Michibiki with an innocent smile and says the only thing he was told he could say to the Executive.

“Hi.”

“… Hello.” Michibiki answers slowly, his voice low.

“Uh…” Hibiki begins to laugh a little, nervously. Catching the wild look he’s getting from Ibuki out of the corner of his eyes, he begins to whisper. “Hey, Ibuki. Can I say something else to him?”

“You- you don’t need my permission!” Ibuki’s response is barely a whisper.

“You said to let you do the talking.”

Ibuki is kicking himself for that now. “Just answer the Executive’s question!”

“Oh,” Hibiki deadpans, now directing himself to Michibiki. “Okay. I don’t know.”

By now Michibiki is running his hand over his face. He lets out a weak laugh and then strokes his chin thoughtfully. “A Beat Magus never meeting the Magus Saint is unheard of.”

“About that.” Ibuki speaks up. “I thought it was strange that he had never met her either and proposed to bring him back here from the start. Just before we came here, we did meet Saint Cecilia.”
Interest flashes across Michibiki’s face just as embarrassment settles into Ibuki’s. The memory of Hibiki’s presumed vision of the Magus Saint was still too much to process. Trying to swallow it down, he clears his throat.

“Does our new Magus have a name?” Is Michibiki’s next question, “And tell me, what did Cecilia say to you.”

“I’m Hibiki!”

“His name is Treble Magus Hibiki.” Ibuki clarifies. “The Magus Saint acknowledged how odd it was that he could Reflect without her help, but called his intentions pure. If the Magus Saint doesn’t perceive him as a threat, I don’t think the Magnifique should either.”

Pacing back to his desk to sit, Michibiki extends a hand towards two large chairs in front of him for the Magi to settle down in. They seat themselves and watch as Michibiki leans back in his chair.
“The Magus Saint’s words are absolute, she’s never wrong.” Michibiki says, nearly mirroring what Ibuki had said to Hibiki earlier. “If she trusts in Hibiki, then we should lend him our support as well.”

“That being said, Saint Cecilia made a request of me.” Ibuki swallows hard as he watches his father’s brows raise. “Hibiki doesn’t know how to use his magic. I was instructed to guide him by the Magus Saint herself. Would you accept this as my formal request to take Hibiki as my apprentice?”

“Absolutely not.” Michibiki answers without hesitation. “You’ve only just been assigned to large scale purification duties, you’re not trained to educate.”

“But it was as the Magus Saint wishes, and you said yourself she’s never wrong.” Ibuki insists. “There was no problem when I was a kid having to learn magic. She decided that too.”

“I refuse. Consider your formal request denied.”

There is a far too long to be comfortable silence between the father and son and for the first time, Hibiki sees a glimpse of what he thinks is Ibuki’s at-home personality. The Magus pouts, dissatisfied with his father’s unwillingness to work with him. It’s almost humoring, but still awkward for an outsider.

“To be fair,” Hibiki speaks up, “the Magus Saint did ask Ibuki to show me the ropes, and he’s already been telling me a bunch of stuff I wouldn’t have known otherwise. He even helped me save one of my students.”

“… What do you mean save?” Michibiki rotates his chair to face Hibiki, expression even more serious.

“Some Christmas colored guy in real ugly clothes showed up and turns one of my kids crazy. Ibuki did his little purification thing with his gun. She’s better now, but we saw the saint lady right after that.”

“I was going to save this for last,” Ibuki returns to his normal composure, “but we had an encounter with Kabuki.”

“That should have come first.” Michibiki snaps, Ibuki wincing in response.

“Right, sorry.”

“I’m going to expect a full report on this for later for our records, Kabuki’s proven himself difficult to track down.” Michibiki nods to Hibiki. “I would appreciate something from you as well if possible.”

Memories of Akira gnashing and struggling and screaming flood into Hibiki’s mind as he considers what he would even report on. In all honesty, it wasn’t the Bass Magus himself that he could remember so much as it was what resulted from his actions that stuck out. Even worse, there was a tinge of guilt carved into the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t been able to do much of anything for Akira. Sure, restraining her helped, but what was the use of being granted magic powers without knowing how to use them to help others?

“I guess I can try to write something up.” Hibiki muses aloud, “But there is something I think I want you to consider in return if possible.”

The chair squeaks across the floor as Hibiki stands with vigor. Looking Michibiki directly in the eye, he tries to come off as serious as possible.

“Hibiki…?” Ibuki starts before the other Magus bows deeply. Hibiki leans so far forward and so suddenly, his head nearly knocks into the Executive’s desk.

“Please reconsider Ibuki’s request.” Hibiki doesn’t wait for Michibiki to reply, lowering his head even more. The beaded ornaments draped around his horns and across his forehead pile onto the wooden desk noisily. “He’s already worked so hard to persuade me to come here. I want to learn magic and protect people, and if I have to have someone guide me, then it needs to be the guy your saint chose. It has to be Ibuki!”

Blushing is an understatement to Ibuki’s response. He’s touched, honestly and truly. Jumping to his feet, he can’t waste Hibiki’s effort, bowing as well to his father. “Executive Michibiki, father, please.”

Neither can see the softening in Michibiki’s face as he thinks it over. Sliding his chair back, he sighs.

“I expect daily progress reports.” He finally says after a long while. Ibuki lifts his head in surprise, glancing to Hibiki who looks to him with a smile and wink.

“Thank you, sir.” Ibuki bows again.

“Regardless of what the divine say about this, if I don’t find your training satisfactory, Hibiki will be reassigned.” Michibiki warns.

“I promise not to allow it to come to that.” Ibuki says. Hibiki smiles at the determination in his tone and looks around the room.

“Sooo…” Hibiki draws out, “is there a permission slip or anything I have to sign?”

/////

Several hours later, the two Magi are back in their civilian appearances and settled at the Izumi family home located not too far from the Conservatory.

When they had arrived, Iori had commented that it was usually him by himself. Michibiki usually stayed in a suite below the Conservatory and his mother was currently away on a trip in France to meet with several of the Magnifique’s head Magi.

After dinner, Hitoshi had no problem occupying the Izumi family couch, flipping on the television and looking for something interesting to watch. He eventually settled on a primetime game show, but wasn’t really paying attention to it. Iori was busy in the kitchen and insisted he didn’t need Hitoshi’s help. Compared to the way he had looked when confronting Michibiki earlier, Iori seemed more mature for his age here. Actually, Hitoshi had no idea how old Iori was to begin with other than the fact he looked young.

“Here.” Iori’s voice breaks him out of his thoughts. A mug of cocoa is being presented to him.

“What’s this for?” Hitoshi asks while accepting it. Iori takes a seat on the couch next to him, holding his own cup of cocoa.

“It’s a thank you for before.” Iori admits, “It’s not a lot, but it made me happy that you wanted me to teach you. You were so serious about it too.”

“You’re thanking me for giving you more work.” Hitoshi laughs, blowing on the cocoa before taking a sip. It was delicious and rich, clearly not the hot water and cocoa mix he was used to. “This is delicious, Ibuki.”

“It’s Iori” he corrects, sipping his own cocoa. Setting the mug down, he leans back into the couch. “That’s the first time you’ve done that. Be careful, the Magnifique is supposed to be secret.”

The game show is still going on TV, but neither of them are watching it. There are loads of questions crawling through Hitoshi’s mind. He’s unsure what to ask about first. Picking up the remote, he changes the channel a few more times before settling on a weather broadcast for nothing other than the ambient music.

“Hey, this is gonna sound really dumb.” Hitoshi leans to set the remote on the coffee table. “What is the Magnifique?”

“I guess I never did tell you.” Readjusting himself on the couch so he gets a better look at Hitoshi, Iori grabs his mug and cradles it between his hands to sap up its warmth. “The full name is the Organisation de la Musique Magnifique.”

“Which means…?” Hitoshi asks.

“It’s French for the Organization of the Magnificent Music.” Iori laughs at the slight confusion on Hitoshi’s face. “The name is a bit of a mouthful so we just call it the Magnifique. I grew up around this stuff so it just comes naturally for me. Anyways, it’s a global organization of magicians who have received power from Saint Cecilia. The Japanese branch is referred to as the Takeshi. Though the main branch is located in Paris where Mom is right now. It has its own Conservatory which I got made to study at when I was younger.”

A sip of cocoa is the only break in Iori’s description as Hitoshi listens intently. A smooth jazz beat from the television serves as their soundtrack.

“Historically, Beat Magi date back to around the time of Saint Cecilia’s death in 230 A.D. When we go to the Conservatory tomorrow, I can show you were the library is if you went to flip through any historical records. Granted, it’s a lengthy read.” Iori can tell that Hitoshi likely won’t. He didn’t seem like the kind who read for fun.
“Beat Magi can become one of two things: a Treble Magus or a Bass Magus. Everyone the Magus Saints grants power to is a Treble Magus is and is able to use what we classify as Major Magicks. Bass Magi have Minor Magicks.” Hitoshi raises his hand. “Yes?”

“The difference?”

“Morals and emotions would be the best way to describe it.” Iori takes another sip of his cocoa as he chooses his words. “We become Beat Magi because of our pure intentions and feelings, and the Reflector shines that back onto us. The Magus Saint chooses people with strong positive feelings to become Beat Magi because she wants us to use our magic and dreams to do good and help others. That’s where Major Magicks come in. A piece of music in a major key is uplifting.”

The gears are evidently turning in Hitoshi’s head. He is nodding slowly.

“Minor Magicks are a minor key then. Which make people sad.” It’s an affirmation of understanding than a question. Iori smiles, thankful that he’s being understood.

“If a Beat Magi becomes too clouded by their own downfalls or grudges, it harms their Reflector. If you did something stupid like punch a mirror, your reflection would become warped and fragmented. That’s what happens to a Beat Magi when they corrupt.” Iori thinks of Kabuki and his taunting demeanor. He thinks of how he speared his blade through Akira’s Reflector without hesitation and frowns. “They become Bass Magi, and usually they hurt others.”

“I get it.” Hitoshi downs the rest of his cocoa, wiping his mouth when he’s finished. Residual cocoa leaves a dark smear along his arm. Iori offers him a tissue from the side table to clean it up.

“Do you really?”

“Actually, yeah.” The cluelessly peppy tone Hitoshi gives now makes Iori nervous that he doesn’t get it at all. “We’re, like, music therapists.”

Iori sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. In a way, it wasn’t wrong, but for someone who grew up in this type of world, it seemed more complicated than that. He didn’t even want to honor Hitoshi with a reply, he felt like he was playing the straight man too much in their interactions anyways.

Checking the time, it’s getting late. Iori gathers up their now empty mugs and rises. “I can tell you more tomorrow, but we should wrap up. There is a spare futon in the guest room down the hall on the left. Let me wash these and I can help you set up if you want.”

“Don’t bother, I got it!” Hitoshi rises with a salute and a smile. “I guess I’ll go wash up first too.”

“If you say so.” Iori says as he retreats into the kitchen. “Make yourself at home, I got permission for you to stay here through your entire apprentice.”

Once Iori is out of sight, Hitoshi’s expression drops. Down the hall on the left, the futon is folded up and ready for guest use just as he was told. Quick to lay it out and change into the set of night clothes that were laid out for him, Hitoshi heads into the bathroom to wash his face.

Splashing cold water onto himself, he shakes himself dry a little and then pats his face with a towel. Catching his worried look in his reflection, Hitoshi stares at himself.

Being a Beat Magus was all well and good, and he wanted to support Iori. But back in Tokyo he had a job and students and had left both behind at the other’s insistence. Hitoshi hadn’t thought much of it at the time, so much had already happened today. What was another weird thing onto the pile?

It certainly hadn’t been any of Iori’s concern.

Akira was still unconscious on the bleachers when they jumped through the gate. Was she okay now? Surely someone noticed he was missing by now and he couldn’t quite pick up a phone and explain what had happened. He was too honest to make something up.

Hitoshi needed Iori to take him back to Tokyo.

Chapter Text

Hitoshi was always an early bird. However today, he felt anxious and tired. Splashing his face with cold water and giving himself a few smacks in the mirror helped pull anything worrying features from his expression.

In all honesty, it was a restless night. Hitoshi wasn’t the kind of guy to get homesick, but he was the kind of guy to feel guilty about shirking his duties. He knew that at some point, he would have to tell Iori what he needed to do, but with the way he enthusiastically convinced Michibiki to let him teach Hitoshi magic, he worried it would seem like a betrayal. Despite his carefree exterior, he was a responsible guy. That’s what had kept him up for the better part of the night.

He also didn’t want to let anyone down.

So Hitoshi chats up a storm during breakfast, asking Iori all kinds of silly questions about being a Beat Magus.

Would the Magnifique give him a magic license when his training was done? No. Did he get paid for his work? No. Was using the Reflector to check if he had spinach in his teeth acceptable? Yes, but not in front of anyone important.

“How long does training usually last?” Hitoshi finally asks as the two head to the Conservatory.

Iori adjusts his scarf once he locks the gate to the house, tucking the ends into his zipped-up jacket. “The full course is four years.”

“Four?!”

“Usually, yes.” Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Iori looks to Hitoshi with curiosity as they walk. “Do you think we’ll need longer?”

Hitoshi runs a hand through his hair and huffs. “I didn’t realize I was going to have to stay here for four years!”

“Relax. I’m joking.”

Iori laughs as he watches Hitoshi’s face go blank. He clearly wasn’t used to that kind of teasing. It also told Iori what he needed to know. There had been a flurry of questions at breakfast, all of them seeming like a distraction. Hitoshi was a bit dense, but there was something Iori was overlooking. He had to have been. Hitoshi seemed off today, like there was something weighing heavily on his mind.

“Oh… haha, right.” Hitoshi’s laugh is nervous as he scratches the back of his neck. “Of course that’s a joke.”

“The standard course, yes, does take four years to complete, but that’s not what we’ll be doing. For you, I was hoping we could take a look at what you’ve been trying to do to get yourself to learn how to use your magic and from there I can help augment it.” Iori snaps his fingers, quick and aggressive just as Hitoshi had done when he first saw him trying to use his powers in the park. “I know my father said I had no education experience, but I did help tutor the younger Magi a bit back at the Paris Conservatory.”

“Ah…” Hitoshi says quietly.

Climbing the steps to the shrine, the Conservatory is slightly visible over the tangle of bare tree branches.

“Hey, is there something bothering you?” Iori finally asks, making Hitoshi stop.

“What makes you ask?” Playing clueless, Hitoshi smiles. It sets Iori uneasy, he already knew the extent of the other man’s honesty.

“You’ve been off all morning. Are you nervous about having me teach you? I guess it would be weird being the apprentice to someone younger than you.” Iori frowns, trailing off.

“No! That’s not it at all!” Hitoshi raises his hands in defense. “Just because I’m 31 doesn’t mean I have anything against a guy younger than me showing me the ropes! In fact, you’re more like my senior right now.”

“Oh please,” Iori laughs, waving a hand dismissively, “I’m only 19, let’s not get too deep into that senior stuff. And the apprentice thing is in title only.”

“Really, just 19? I thought you were older.” Hitoshi laughs and that’s the end of the conversation.

Even though the two nod to each other in all smiles, Iori feels that this wasn’t what Hitoshi was worried about either. As they make their way into the Conservatory, there is silence between them until they reach the elevator hall.

Today Iori has them descend into a basement level where they are taken to an underground training room fitted with padded walls, training dummies, and an area with weights. Shedding their coats, Iori takes out his Reflector and transforms. Hitoshi does the same.

“So what do you normally do when you try to get yourself to do magic? Like, tell me what you were doing before we met the other day.” Ibuki leans back against one of the padded walls.

Hibiki looks up, hands on his hips as he thinks back. “I woke up, ate some eggs…”

“After that.” Ibuki sighs.

“Some stretches, some jumping jacks for cardio, and then some weights.” Hibiki recalls his routine, granted he did this bit nearly every morning. Even with the chaos of his meeting with Ibuki, his daily training was hard to forget.

“In or out of Magus form?”

“Out.”

“How much were the weights?”

“The dumbbells? 75 each.”

Ibuki blinks. “75… pounds?!”

“Yeah, what else would they be?” Hibiki laughs like anyone could regularly move 150 pounds total worth of weights that easily.

No wonder he’s so muscular.

“Okay,” Ibuki clears his throat, choosing not to think any more about Hibiki’s muscles. “After that?”

“250 reps each of pushups, crunches, squats, then a 3 mile run.”

“And you’re still alive?!” Ibuki asks, covering his mouth once he realizes that was meant to stay inside his head.

“I like to train.” Hibiki shrugs. “Anyways, when you found me, I had finished the run and was trying to get the little circle thingy you do show up.”

Ibuki traces a circle in the air with his index finger. A ring of magic follows his finger and when the ends connect, he opens his palm to let it settle at his fingertips like a platter. “This?”

“Yeah! You make that look easy.” Hibiki attempts it himself, but nothing happens. “I’ve been adding more reps to my routine. I used to only do 200 of everything and a slightly shorter run, but it did nothing for the whole magic thing.”

“Because that’s not exactly how it works.” Ibuki says flatly. Snapping his fingers, the magic circle disappears. “You can work out all you want. It’ll improve your stamina, but it doesn’t help with the actual spellcasting. That’s all feeling.”

Really, what about this whole Beat Magus thing wasn’t about feeling? Hibiki felt defeated, he was sure he was pretty into it. Tracing circles in the air just as he had seen Ibuki do numerous times now, nothing manifests and he continues to wonder what he’s doing wrong.

“Hibiki, could it be…” Ibuki pushes himself away from the wall and stands by Hibiki’s side. “You don’t know what you’re supposed to be feeling?”

“No? I know!” Hibiki lies. “Hyped, pumped, into it! I got that down. That’s what I need right? Spirit?”

Biting his lip, Ibuki shakes his head. He lowers Hibiki’s hand, but the other Magus continues to trace small circles in the air. “That could be enough to get you to transform, but the magic itself comes from what let you have the power to begin with. It’s whatever the Magus Saint sees in us.”

“All she said is that I was pure.” Hibiki huffs, remembering the vagueness of her statement. “Was she like that with you?”

“You can’t be vague with a 12 year old.” Ibuki admits, “She was awfully straight forward when she granted me my magic.”

It hadn’t quite hit him just how young Ibuki was when he became a Beat Magus. Hibiki tries to imagine one of his own students trying to learn magic, even that seeming like a wild daydream.

“Was it because of your family?” Hibiki questions. Ibuki did have family in the game, maybe he was living an obligation that the Magus Saint had to sign him onto early.

Ibuki tilts his head to the side and lets out a soft laugh. “Sort of? I’ve always looked up to my mom and dad. Not that I was allowed to see them do any of the purification work, but I had known they did magic and helped people.”

Hibiki watches Ibuki’s face curiously, noticing the prideful look in his eyes. A soft blush paints his cheeks, his eyes looking past Hibiki, probably embarrassed to admit something so sentimental to a guy he had only known for a few days.

“Father rarely goes into the field anymore so you might never see what I saw, but he and Mom looked incredible as Beat Magi. Just looking at them made me feel at ease, like as long as they were there, everything would be okay. I wanted to be just like that.” Ibuki continues to reminisce. “I remember thinking ‘I want to help a lot of people just like Mom and Dad when I grow up, I want them to be proud of me’.”

There is a nostalgic smile on Ibuki’s face. Hibiki classifies it as cute, just as cute as his story.

“Did the Magus Saint give you your magic right after that?” Hibiki asks once he’s sure Ibuki is finished.

Eyes shifting back to lock with Hibiki, Ibuki nods. “It wasn’t the next day or anything, but she came after that and Reflected me. It did kind of feel like Christmas being able to turn into something like my parents. Saint Cecilia told me then that it was my love for my family that would help me cast spells, but compassion for others would make them stronger.”

“That’s kind of cheesy.” Hibiki admits, raising his hands as Ibuki flashes him a flustered look, “But! I guess I get it.”

“You could have said that without the teasing.” The pout is back, humoring Hibiki even more.

“But what does being pure have to do with anything?”

“That’s…” Ibuki looks away as he thinks, arms crossed. “Saint Cecilia said you have pure intentions and that gave you your magic. Did anything specific happen before you came across the Reflector?”

“I went to work.”

“Anything else?”

“All I do is go to work, buy groceries, and train. You can’t possibly tell me grocery shopping gave me magic powers.” Hibiki frowns as he watches Ibuki continue to think over something.

“Okay, fine. Anything specific at work? You do work with kids so it could be tied to that.” Ibuki straightens himself out. “It’s the best idea I have.”

Now it’s Hibiki’s turn to think.

“Nothing really dramatic happened.” He admits after some time. “Though one of my kids has been getting bullied lately and I’ve had to do some guidance work. He doesn’t have a dad so I’ve been giving him a bunch of advice. He won’t tell me who does it and I never see it happening, but I know it’s going on.”

“Oh…” Ibuki’s shoulders sink as he considers Hibiki’s words. There had been something wrong earlier. The gloomy air over Hibiki had lifted while discussing the training routine, but now it had returned.

“He comes to me because he trusts me, but he keeps holding back from telling me everything. There is only so much advice I can give, I want to do more, but feel useless that I can’t. I guess I’ve just been worried about that. Work means a lot to me, I want the kids I teach to feel safe and happy.” Hibiki fidgets with a cuff on his glove. “I woke up with the Reflector in my hand.”

Suddenly, Ibuki feels bad.

He always had mixed emotions about Hibiki. He thought him a bit of a dunce, too carefree for his own good. He was responsible when it counted and honest to a fault, but Ibuki never considered the fact that at the end of the day, his worries came home with him.

Was this why Hibiki had felt so off?

“That’s…” Ibuki uncrosses his arms, “It’s really admirable. That you think about your students like that even when they’re not in front of you. Maybe that’s why you were made into a Beat Magus.”

“You think so?” Hibiki raises a brow.

“Of course! The Magus Saint said your intentions were pure, it has to be the fact you want to protect your students!” Ibuki seems more enthusiastic now. “If you focus on that instead of just training or being excited, I think we might be able to get somewhere with your magic!”

More than eager to test the theory before Ibuki can say anything else, Hibiki traces another circle in the air. He thinks about how he wanted to help Akira the previous day, about how he wanted to guide the other bullied student, about how he wanted to go back to Tokyo as soon as possible. His magic manifests into small, purple embers. It’s not perfect, but it’s there and Hibiki can’t help marveling at it before the circle is finished.

Or rather, it’s an oval. Barely.

“Ibuki… I’m doing it!” Hibiki says with breathy excitement, eyes not wanting to leave his handywork for a second as it flickers like a candle before him.

The other Magus watches, lips parted slightly in surprise. Hibiki looks so different against the glow of the flame. He looks warm and kind, everything he had seen from his own parents as a child. The delighted smile on his face makes him look a way that Ibuki hadn’t even thought of before.

It makes him look handsome.

Blushing, Ibuki tries to shove the thought out of his head as quickly as it enters. He clearly had to have been happy to see Hibiki happy. That was it.

“It looks like a triangle.” Ibuki laughs it off, “But I’m glad I think we hit the nail on the head here. Training should be a piece of cake moving forward.”

“Ah, about that.” Hibiki looks up, the magic “circle” dissipating the instant he tears his eyes from it. “Do you think we can get that done by tomorrow? I think… I should go home soon.”

/////

There is a swirl of cherry blossoms outside the Tachibana Sweet Shop just as one of the staff members steps outside to hang up a sign to signify their opening for the day. Several petals land in her short brown hair, but the one that lands square on her nose catches her attention and curiosity.

It was still winter, there weren’t supposed to be cherry blossoms.

“Eh…?” she picks it off and looks at it before looking around and upwards.

“Accept my most sincere apologies for this~” a voice coos. It’s hard to pinpoint from where it comes, but it’s not from in front of the woman. “I need you to torment a few special people for me.”

She has no time to face the one who delivers the line before a blade plunges through her and her Reflector.

/////

Dumbfounded, Ibuki smiles as if he doesn’t understand what Hibiki is saying. He nods idly, then snaps to his sentences and begins to sputter. “T-tomorrow?!”

“Yeah? If we got this much done so fast…” Hibiki traces another shape, another magic something. It wasn’t a circle, that was for sure.

“That’s impossible…” Ibuki says, “You can’t possibly learn everything you need in a day. I thought you were okay with staying and letting me teach you!”

“I am!” Hibiki stares into the flame, “I want you to teach me, but I still have something to do elsewhere. There are people who rely on me, I need to get back there. We left Akira…”

“…”

“Ibuki?” Hibiki looks back up to the most guilt-ridden expression he’d ever seen the other Magus carry.

He never spared a thought about what he pulled Hibiki away from. Ibuki was so consumed with his own duties, his father, and getting Hibiki to the Conservatory, he never let Hibiki have a chance to resolve anything following Akira’s corruption.

Hibiki was too good, going along with Ibuki in the whirl of everything. Ibuki had simply yanked him through the gate without looking back.

“I’m sorry,” Ibuki sounds weak, exactly like a child who has been caught doing something wrong. It’s an uncomfortable feeling for Hibiki.

Dropping his magic… shape, he rests a hand on Ibuki’s shoulder and gives a firm squeeze. “You’re not to blame, you have your own responsibilities to worry about.”

“And I took you away from yours!” Ibuki brushes the hand off his shoulder. “I was thoughtless, I saw the Magus Saint and immediately whisked you away here. I should’ve cared about your student too!”

“We can go back together.” Hibiki offers. He would need Ibuki anyways, he didn’t know any of that teleportation magic Ibuki seemed to know. At least not how to use it.

Ibuki seems to mull over the offer and unknowingly reaches the same conclusion. He gives a nod. “I can speak with Father tonight about getting back to Tokyo sooner rather than later. Can you wait for his permission?”

“Of course,” Hibiki smiles, patting Ibuki’s shoulder again. “Until then, I’m all yours!”

Feeling the heat of a blush in his ears, Ibuki nods. This time he doesn’t brush the hand away.

Chapter Text

The sounds of battle are dampened by the room’s interior as one Magus swings at the other. Ibuki dodges a swipe and keeps low, darting forwards to close the distance between him and Hibiki so he can swat the stick away. His height betrays him and Hibiki is capable of another swing with his opposite hand. This time it’s downwards, giving Ibuki only a second to raise his arm in defense.

The strike is dull, but Ibuki winces. His bruises from Kabuki’s shove the other day were still there. Now this one has been aggravated.

“You okay?” Hibiki eases from his fighting stance, only to immediately receive the muzzle of Ibuki’s gun pressed against his nose. “… Oh come on, don’t tell me you were faking.”

“I wish.” Ibuki laughs, straightening up and rubbing at his forearm. It ached, but he’d be fine. “I’m still a little banged up from Kabuki, but you shouldn’t have let your guard down.”

The two ornate taiko sticks Hibiki held vanished. Summoning them had been his big accomplishment for the day and probably the one spell Ibuki had emphasized getting down pat the most. With the translucent stone demon heads and the trigger-like silver rings fixed atop the handles, Hibiki had never thought drumsticks could be so advanced and cool. Even spinning them in his grip was exciting.

“But I knew you weren’t going to hurt me.” Hibiki pouts, “You finger wasn’t even on the trigger.”

“You’re talking like you actually want to get shot.” Ibuki points out, releasing his weapon and allowing it to vanish as well.

Per his request, water had been brought down before they started practice sparring. Uncapping a battle for himself, Ibuki tosses one to Hibiki.

“I’m sure I could take it.” Hibiki catches the bottle and takes a long drink, downing nearly half of it in one go.

“I’d rather you not ever have to.”

Checking the time, it feels like they had been there for a lot less than it felt. Showing Hibiki spells had taken nearly all day and the last couple of hours had solely been on summoning his weapon and learning to fight with it. Regardless, it all went by in a blur. Hibiki was athletic, his combat abilities didn’t need improvement there. He could also tell that there was a lot of heart in the way he wielded his weapon.

Ibuki watches as Hibiki idly summons a magic circle. He’s been getting better at that too, they’re actually starting to look like circles now. A red bird, like the familiar Ibuki had summoned when they met, emerges from the flame, its cooing akin to song.

“Look Ibuki, it’s a bird!” Hibiki notes with simple puppy-dog excitement, pointing at the familiar as it circles around him.

Summoning familiars had been important, they usually helped identify locations of Magi and the corrupted. Otherwise, Hibiki had learned a handful of other tricks. Manifesting rings of fire, minor light illusions, and fire breath. The fire breath was probably the scariest one, incinerating a training dummy and momentarily setting off the sprinklers the minute he realized he could do it.

Perhaps being able to return to his normal life by tomorrow would be doable. Hibiki was impressive, capable of the impossible. It left Ibuki in high hopes, all he really needed to focus on was teaching Hibiki how to handle spells while using his weapon and everything from there was refinement.

’The Magus Saint truly is never wrong.’ Ibuki thinks to himself.

The training center’s door opens, snapping Ibuki out of his thoughts.

“Fa- Executive Michibiki!” Ibuki corrects himself, straightening himself out so he can bow to the Magus as he enters.

Hibiki is quick to do the same, the bird familiar perching on his shoulder as he does so.

Before Michibiki can speak, Ibuki is already standing back up and gesturing towards Hibiki. “The apprenticeship has been going well, Treble Magus Hibiki has successfully managed to learn how to summon familiars as well as his weapon reliably in the span of a single day.”

“That’s wonderful,” Michibiki acknowledges, adjusting his glasses with a humored smile before turning more serious. “However, that isn't why I'm here. Zanki and Todoroki have been dispatched. We have a situation in Tokyo.”

/////

Winter’s chill swept through the marketplace, its pathway cleared as shoppers took shelter behind stalls and various wares. Not much earlier, a small legion of deranged individuals had passed through. Whoever wasn’t able to take cover or fend them off seemed to change, becoming like them. It was apocalyptic, completely fictitious feeling like a zombie movie.

Some of those who had hidden were only now starting to peak out to see if the coast was clear. The market’s usual daytime bustle was missing, it was eerie.

The eeriness was only enhanced by the slow approach of heeled boots clicking across the stone walkway.

A young woman skips along. Scanning over the area for signs of life, her smile is cheery as if this were a game of hide and seek. She wears a green floral short kimono dress, the skirt portion fluffed by a thick cloud petticoat. A cracked mirror is affixed to the front of her obi. Thin wires wrap around her torso and dangle from her petticoat, forming into tangled knots that are meant to resemble bows. The same wires are also tangled around her fingers into a web similar to a game of cat’s cradle, her clawed thumb striking against one of them to emit an off-tune chord.

Her playful appearance is countered by her sister who strides just behind her with a more upright demeanor. Her long hair obscures her face, hiding the dark circles that had formed under her eyes. A black dance tight covers her from the neck down, disappearing under her knee-high laced boots. She also wears a kimono dress like her sister, this one a deep blue, however her arms aren’t in the sleeves. They fly free, her kimono draped down around her waist to reveal brass tubing surrounding her ribs. This same tubing winds down her arms to her fingertips. A half-shattered badge is pinned to her chest.

“Nee, Kasumi~” the green-clad sister says, her voice childishly innocent despite the off-key echo it gives off. “Do you think we got everyone to play with us?”

“Unlikely, Tokyo is way too populated for that.” Kasumi replies, her own voice sounding both near and far away, as if she were speaking through a long tube. Sharply, she keeps her eyes peeled for the slightest movement until she spots what she’s looking for.

A mother is peaking over a produce display directly at Kasumi. When they lock eyes, she immediately ducks away and cowers, hoping she wasn’t actually noticed. A smile curls onto Kasumi’s lips.

“Hinaka, why don’t we pick up some fruit to take home?”

“Fruit? We already have plenty of that.” Hinaka turns to see how her sister watches this stand with humor and instantly it clicks. “Ooooo~h! I get it, of course!”

Hinaka spreads her arms out wide, the wires unwinding and snapping into a multitude of loose cords that are revealed to be coming from somewhere up her flowing sleeves. She raises her arm upwards and then chops down roughly, the wires slicing through the wood of the stall and sending produce everywhere. Dust and debris plume out, panicked voices and terrified cries audible underneath it. When it clears out, the sisters can clearly see several people who had taken cover: the mother Kasumi had spotted, two small children, a high school student, and the owner of the stall.

“Woohoo! I win!” Hinaka cheers, spinning until Kasumi flicks her in the side with her brass-tipped gloves. “A-ah ow! Hey!”

A tired huff is still apparent on Kasumi’s face under her hair. “Hurry up, or they won’t want to play with you.”

Gasping, Hinaka nods. “I don’t want that!” Flaring her arm out, she whips the cords towards the small gathering of people. They scream, huddling close and bracing themselves.

However, just before anymore damage can be done, a gate opens to intercept them. The wires pass through and there is a yelp from inside the massive magic circle as Hibiki side steps through. Ibuki steps out beside him, watching the wires retreat back to Hinaka.

Ibuki’s face goes pale as he sees the sisters.

“Hey, watch where you’re swinging that!” Hibiki scolds Hinaka. “You coulda hurt someone.”

Hinaka giggles mischievously. The sound is unsettling, reminding Hibiki of Akira’s warped screams. He flinches and then turns to Ibuki.

“Ibuki, what’s that look for?” Hibiki questions, noting the wide-eyed expression Ibuki is giving the two girls.

“Hey, hey!” Hinaka smacks her sister’s shoulder repeatedly. “Iori came to play with us!”

“Iori?” Flicking her sister’s hand away, Kasumi tilts her head upwards, hair falling out of her face so that everyone can see the possessive smile on her face. “I’m so happy, I’ve missed him so much!”

Shivers run down Ibuki’s spine, seeing the two like this was just scary to him. Backing up slightly, Hibiki looks to him.

“Do you know them?”

“They’re my friends.” Ibuki’s mouth is dry, he sounds distant as he says it. “We grew up together, our fathers are friends.”

That explained why he seemed so freaked out. Hibiki sighs and smacks Ibuki square in the back to jolt him forwards. Hinaka bursts out with a short laugh, finding the scene all too funny as he turns to look at Hibiki in surprise.

“If they’re your friends, then we need to help them, right?” Hibiki says, “What’s with you clamming up now?”

“R-right, sorry.” Ibuki nods. He looks over his shoulder to the people huddled behind them and then to Hibiki. “Get them out of here. I’ll figure something out.”

“Roger!” Flipping a salute to the other Magus, Hibiki rushes back to the group behind them and begins to guide them away.

Now without civilians in the way, Ibuki eyes up the sisters, trying to figure out what they could do. Hinaka was clearly capable of using her wires to strike at a long distance, but Kasumi’s form didn’t seem to have any distinct offensive capabilities. Which was just like her, she always was the kind of person to hide her feelings. She had to have something up her sleeve.

/////

“I received a report from the Tachibana Sweet Shop.” Michibiki announces. “Ichirou says that something got to his daughters. The shop itself is fine, but they’ve taken to the streets.”

“Kasumi and Hinaka corrupted?!” Ibuki asks, full of worried panic. His father nods and looks to Hibiki.

“In cases like this, a corrupted will usually spread their ill will to others. When that happens, a containment team is sent to purify the stragglers while another team hunts down the prime corrupted.” Michibiki explains. “I have Zanki and Todoroki working containment, I would like you to accompany Ibuki in subduing the girls. We already have a lock on their location.”

“Well that’s...” Hibiki laughs, scratching his cheek modestly. “I’m already getting a mission? I must be getting good fast.”

“An apprentice is to shadow his master.” Michibiki notes.

“You still can’t use spells with your weapon.” Ibuki adds. He still seems shaken, but not as much as before. “If you help with anything, it should only be defensive.”

And with fighting two of them, Ibuki would need the back up in more ways than one.

/////

Except Ibuki doesn’t want to fight them. Knowing what he had to do and actually having to do it were two distinct things.

Hinaka doesn’t bless him with a choice, however, as she lunges forward. Silver wires swing towards him and he only dodges it by a hair.

“Tatsumaki!” Ibuki traces the circle in the air and hurls it at Hinaka like a frisbee. The wind doesn’t manage to restrain her, she whips through it and laughs.

“My turn!” she cheers, swinging her hands together. The wires dart towards Ibuki. Tracing his Reflector, he summons the trumpet-esque gun to try and shoot them down, but it’s too late. He finds himself entangled in the cords, and when they constrict he drops his weapon entirely.

Hinaka splays her fingers out and raises her hands sightly. Struggling, Ibuki feels his feet leave the ground as she lifts him.

“Kasumi, look, I caught him!”

Finally stepping forwards, that unnerving smile is still on Kasumi’s face. She looks up to Ibuki and traces her lips with a gloved finger. “Iori, you should know better than to fight a girl.”

“Kasumi, snap out of it, you’re not yourself right now.” Ibuki pleads, wincing as Hinaka squeezes him with her binds.

“Mmm?” Flashing an innocent look, Kasumi flips a thumb over her lower lip. “No, I feel pretty me right now. Maybe better.”

Her fingers stiffen. With one hand, Kasumi reaches to grab the tangle of cables and pulls Ibuki towards her. Her other hand reels back, armored fingers positioned as if she’s about to pierce through him. The brass tips to her fingers, Ibuki realizes, must be her weapon.

“Say Iori, I think you should be with us. Be with me.”

“Kasumi…” Ibuki breathes out. He continues to struggle, but his arms and legs can’t move. He tries to use his magic, but his wrist can’t achieve the right range of motion for the spell he wants. Kasumi’s face is sadistic as she licks her lips.

She doesn’t get much further than that as a burst of purple flames lap at her. Shrieking, she releases her hold on Ibuki and shrinks back.

Hibiki stands not too far off, a freshly drawn magic circle rotating before him. Taking another deep breath, he exhales through it, spitting flames again. This time, they’re intended for Hinaka who squeals and drops Ibuki so she can use her wiring to swat the embers away.

“Ibuki can’t be with you right now, he’s with me!” Hibiki shouts.

“Hibiki…” There is a moment of pause, Ibuki’s touched at the other Magus coming to his aid and succeeding with the magic he had trained to use. It’s not the time for it, but once he catches Hibiki’s confident smile, he feels his face go warm. “B-but phrase that better next time!”

Hurrying to his feet, Ibuki creates some distance between him and the girls. By the time he reaches Hibiki, he’s already summoned his gun again and turns to fire a few magic rounds at their feet to keep them from advancing.

“What? What about that was weird? We’re together right now.” Hibiki blinks.

“Stop talking about it!” Ibuki whines.

“Also that one girl seems creepily into you.”

“Shut up!!”

Too bad this wasn’t the time for Hibiki to tell himself that Ibuki seemed awfully cute when flustered. Especially not as Kasumi had already begun dashing towards them, her body language erratic and aggressive. She’s quick on her feet, in front of Hibiki in no time and preparing to jab him.

The glint of her fingertips catch Ibuki’s eye. He swings his gun upwards between the two and knocks her hand away, sending her off balance. As she falls back, her body twists and she swipes at Hibiki’s legs, tearing into his tights and gashing his left leg. Hibiki winces, sucking his breath sharply before hoping back on his uninjured leg.

Hinaka’s wires lash out at them amidst all this. Ibuki is quick to aim his gun and shoot back as much as he can, but Kasumi takes a swing at him as well and it proves too distracting to handle both girls at once.

The familiar coo of the bird Hibiki summoned earlier resounds from overhead. However, it’s amplified. Several red birds begin to intercept Hinaka’s wires and when Ibuki turns to see where they’re coming from, he sees Hibiki creating magic circle after magic circle.

“Thank you!” Ibuki calls, not waiting for a response as he focuses on Kasumi. “Tatsumaki!”

He tries the binding wind spell again with his free hand. The gale surrounds her, pulling her arms tight against her body. She struggles to raise her hands, her armored fingertips unable to slice the band of wind restraining her.

Sighing with relief, Ibuki aims his gun at her, charging it up for purification as she squirms and falls over.

“Iori… wait!” she pleads, sounding almost normal.

He hesitates, lowering his gun for a moment.

“Ibuki!” Hibiki’s tone is a sharp crack as he summons his taiko sticks. He lobs one as hard as he can, the stick flying past Ibuki’s head and hitting Hinaka in the jaw. She was a lot closer than Ibuki had recalled. Kasumi clicks her tongue in disgust. “Hurry up and do your purification thing! You have to help them!”

“I… I know that!” Ibuki stammers, raising the gun to Kasumi again, trying to ignore the hurt expression in her eyes. “She’s messing with me… I know that.”

“We just want you to play with us!” Hinaka whines, rubbing at her jaw. She sounds like she’s crying, or at least she’s about to. “You’re hurting Kasumi’s feelings. You’re awful, Iori!”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Hibiki calls. He whistles, sending whatever birds weren’t occupied with Hinaka’s weapon to distract her, keeping her away from Ibuki. “You wanted me to trust you shooting one of my kids, why are you hesitating now?”

Ibuki blinks.

He was childhood friends with Kasumi and Hinaka. That predated his becoming Treble Magus Ibuki. They knew a whole other side of Iori. The kind that cried over a scrapped knee, or trembled at a crack of thunder, or couldn’t bear to be alone in the dark. They knew he was shy, but adventurous. They knew he enjoyed playing with bugs, loved snakes, and would scratch his mosquito bites until they bled and he cried. Each time little Iori had a problem, the girls were there to apply a bandaid or ease his fears or hold his hand. They protected him.

They were still his dear friends after he had been pulled from public school and sent to Paris to study. By the time he was back in Japan, he was different. They knew what he was and why he had left and supported him for it. He wanted to be the one to protect them.

Deep down, he knew what he needed to do.

So why was he hesitating?

The magic scopes generate before the muzzle of Ibuki’s gun, blocking out whatever wide-eyed panic was visible on Kasumi’s face through the cover of her hair.

Hibiki was right, he needed to help them. This wasn’t the time for hesitation, this was his job. And he loved them, this was why he became a Beat Magus.

“Shippuu Issen.” He says coolly before pulling the trigger.

Kasumi shrieks as she’s struck, the light of the attack blinding. When it dissipates, she’s completely unconscious, but back to her normal self and dressed in the server’s uniform for her family’s restaurant.

“Kasumi!!!” Hinaka cries out, her face contorting in anger. “Iori, you jerk!!” Just as she steps forward, cherry blossoms rain around them.

Just like in the Jounan gymnasium, Ibuki is instantly on guard. He sees nothing, but hears Hibiki grunt behind him from being blindsided.

Kabuki has Hibiki pinned to the ground, straddling him and holding his wrists down.

“This is annoying if there are gonna be two of you now.” The Bass Magus hisses.

Hibiki gives only a mildly inconvenienced look, eyes flitting to Ibuki who couldn’t decide whether to aim his gun at Kabuki or Hinaka. Best to make the choice for him.

Going against Kabuki’s hold, Hibiki flexes and raises his arms, catching the other by surprise at his strength.

“What?” Hibiki remarks with a smirk, he jerks Kabuki to the side and then lunges in the other direction so the two roll. Hibiki now planks himself over Kabuki’s body. “I might be old, but I’m still pretty slippery.”

Kabuki clicks his tongue and releases one of Hibiki’s wrists to reach for his blade. A magic round hit the ground next to him as a distraction, Ibuki having spared a glance back to fire it before trying to work his way to Hinaka amidst the enraged flailing of her cords.

Hibiki smacks Kabuki’s hand away from his blade and draws it for himself, taking the chance to toss it several feet away so no one can use it.

“Can’t do anything now! I win!” Hibiki laughs.

“Idiot.” Kabuki mocks, using his still free hand to trace a circle of magic on the ground. From it, a shadow extends and manifests into a demon bearing a full suit of samurai armor. It picks up Kabuki’s discarded blade and charges towards Hibiki.

Quickly, Hibiki is able to summon a taiko stick, using it to block the shadow demon’s attack. However, it makes him vulnerable, and Kabuki uses that chance to kick Hibiki off of him.

Cornered by the Bass Magus and the apparition he had summoned, Hibiki wields the single taiko stick with both hands like a blade. Watching them warily, he’s not sure if he can fend them both off.

Kabuki smirks and unhooks the parasol that served as the sheath for his weapon from his belt. He pops it open to conceal himself. The parasol spins, but Hibiki can see the shadow step between Kabuki and the umbrella from underneath. He braces himself for the attack so he can parry when there is a strike of lightning, the simultaneous clap of thunder deafening.

Descending into the scene are two other Beat Magi, clad in green and wielding blades of their own that resembled electric guitars. One, the older looking, swings his weapon towards the parasol and slices through it and the shadow apparition.

The younger makes sure to address Hibiki, nervously jittering but incredibly polite. “Sorry it took so long! We were held up containing the corrupted that spread from this market. We’re here to lend you our full support!”

A quick bow is the only other thing he offers before turning and dashing off to help the other man as they began to engage with Kabuki. The two keep him busy, leaving Hibiki with nothing more than to help Ibuki who continued to struggle with Hinaka’s fury.

“Oh thank god,” Ibuki remarks under his breath in relief once Hibiki is by his side. “Zanki and Todoroki are here.”

Chapter Text

It’s impossible to dodge every single whip from Hinaka’s onslaught. She’s enraged, flailing wildly as the silver wires snap in every direction. Ibuki’s tubed armor reverberates with hollow plinks as small stings in his arms tell him she’s landed more than enough hits. Above, Hibiki’s bird familiars had managed to snip several of the wires with their beaks, but she has also clipped a fair amount of their wings in return. There were less familiars than before and Hibiki hadn’t had a chance to summon more.

Ibuki continues to shoot away the attacks, unable to focus on the purification hit to her Reflector. He could hit the target from far away no problem, but he didn’t have the time to charge it up.

Hibiki swats some wires away with a taiko stick. He doesn’t flinch as the cords dig into him, but Ibuki can see the faint sprinkles of blood fling from the other’s arms.

What could Hibiki even do to help? Close range would get him hurt no matter how strong he was. Something whips Ibuki’s cheek and stings. This was getting annoying, if only he could do something to destroy the wires. Shooting Hinaka’s hands wasn’t an option, it could still hurt her.

If only they could just disappear.

The memory of the incinerated training dummy flashes in Ibuki’s mind. That was it!

“Hibiki, fire breath!” Ibuki insists. “Use it on the wires!”

Delighted, Hibiki smiles from ear to ear. “You got it!”

He clearly loved this particular spell and wasted no time in drawing the magic circle to exhale through, a flamethrower of purple shooting towards Hinaka. It catches the tangles of wires she had been whipping around on fire, burning the cords like a fuse.

Panicked, the girl tries to shake the flames out in desperation, backing away as they burn closer to her.

This was Ibuki’s chance, charging up and taking aim, he fires off his purification spell at her.

“Shippuu Issen!!”

Covering his face this time, he waits for the light to fade before checking on Hinaka. She lay face down in the street, everything smoldering around her. Thankfully, she’s unscathed just as her sister is.

There is a click of disappoint behind them and Ibuki turns to see Kabuki struggling to hold off Zanki and Todoroki. Both Treble Magi had their blades swung down on him, the metal bracers on his wrists being the only thing keeping them from cutting through him.

“I’ve had enough of this.” Kabuki growls, “I’ll be back, and it’s going to be a lot worse for you the next time we meet.”

Shoving Zanki and Todoroki’s weapons with a final burst of strength, Kabuki summons a flurry of flower petals to whisk him away.

Once he’s gone, Zanki reaches to touch the Reflector that rests on the corded sash draped across his torso and shakes his head. “Dammit, nothing. He’s blipped off the map entirely.”

“Zanki!” Ibuki greets, jogging up to the two Treble Magi. He bows to them both. “Thank you for your help.”

“Don’t sweat it.” Zanki pats Ibuki’s shoulder and then glances over to Hibiki who is scooping up Kasumi off the ground. He already has Hinaka tucked under his other arm. “What’s with the new guy?”

“That’s… it’s a long story.” A blush creeps across Ibuki’s cheeks, “The Executive Magus is allowing me to train him for right now.”

“He looks a little old to be an apprentice.” Zanki notes.

Todoroki fidgets, silver gloved fingers grasping at his shoulder cape. “Ibuki, you’re lucky to have an apprentice already! I really I had one.” A slow, sideways look from Zanki only makes Todoroki fidget more. “N-not that I’m ready for one yet!”

“Yo!” Hibiki greets when he has both girls in his hold.

“Ah, good I can introduce you now!” Ibuki says with a smile. He gestures to Zanki, “This is Treble Magus Zanki, one of my seniors. And this is Treble Magus Todoroki, his assistant.”

“Nice to meet you!” Todoroki yells, bowing quickly and deeply. Zanki sighs and chops him in the back.

“Yo, I’m Hibiki.” Hibiki says with the usual cheer he gives everyone. His expression turns quizzical as he watches Zanki look him up and down, almost judgmentally. “Is there something on my face?”

“You’re old.”

“I know!” Hibiki laughs. “Just turned 31, but if you wait a year, I’ll be 32.”

“Right.” Zanki says dryly.

Grumbling from one of the unconscious girls grabs the group’s attention.

“We should get them back to the sweet shop.” Ibuki states. “Preferably before they wake up.”

/////

By the time they’ve gotten to the Tachibana Sweet Shop, Kasumi and Hinaka had woken up. Having all changed back to their civilian appearances, Hitoshi now had a bruised hip added to his list of battle injuries from the girls. Carrying them the way he did startled them both and caused a lot of flailing until Iori had talked them down and gotten Hitoshi to lower them.

Now, Kasumi was dabbing disinfectant into the gash on his left leg in apology for being the one to put it there. Hitoshi laughs through grit teeth, trying to convince her that he doesn’t feel it.

“You don’t have strain yourself.” She says as she continues to clean it out before wrapping a tight layer of gauze around it.

“It’s fine, I drink a lot of milk so it’ll heal in no time.” Hitoshi dismisses.

“I think that only works for bones.” Iori says flatly, earning a humored chuckle from Hitoshi. “More importantly, Kasumi, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Of course.” Kasumi grabs Hitoshi’s sleeve and rolls it up, dabbing disinfectant onto the scratches left from Hinaka’s wires. Hitoshi fidgets away, but Kasumi smacks him in the chest to stay still. He shoots a beady-eyed look at Iori, clearly not used to her fiery way of working with people.

Iori laughs and decides to start disinfecting his own cuts before Kasumi has a chance to go heavy handed on him as well.

“I probably said some weird stuff.” Kasumi admits after a while, turning her head away from Iori deliberately. Hitoshi tilts his head forward to look at her face, noting her shameful expression. She swats at him. “Could you forget about all that?”

“Consider it done, don’t worry about it.” Iori says earnestly. “You weren’t yourself, I’d never hold that against you.”

“Thank you…” Kasumi smiles softly, then swatting at Hitoshi again when he seems to nod in understanding.

Placing a bandaid on an especially deep cut, Kasumi pats Hitoshi’s arm. He winces, but then laughs it off.

“There, you should be all good.” She says, satisfied.

The curtain leading to the backrooms of the restaurant part as Hinaka shuffles into the room with a tray full of tea. Todoroki, now in his civilian form, follows close behind with a few small plates of millet dumplings.

“Here we go, here we go! A reward for all of your hard work.” She declares, setting cups of tea down in front of Iori and Hitoshi. “Consider it on the house, eat all you want! You too, Tomizo!”

“What, really?!” Todoroki- or rather Tomizo- exclaims, quickly settling himself down in a seat and pulling one of the plates of dumplings in front of him.

“Yes, but you’ll have to pay after the third plate.” Kasumi teases, the joke flying right over Tomizo’s head.

“Eh?!”

“That’s a joke, but if Zaomaru doesn’t come back upstairs soon, I’ll let you have his portion.” Hinaka adds with a wink, restoring the man’s smile.

Hitoshi and Iori watch blankly as the excited Tomizo begins shoveling dumplings into his mouth, washing them down with large gulps of tea. Stabbing into a dumpling with a wooden pick, Hitoshi looks at it for a minute, and then offers it over like he’s feeding an animal at a petting zoo. Tomizo’s face lights up, expectant.

“For me?”

“Yeah, as a treat.” Hitoshi laughs, sliding the dumpling onto Tomizo’s plate.

The girls watch the three Magi as they eat, smiling. Iori sips his tea and looks up at them, then to the two remaining dumpling on his plate. He takes one of Tomizo’s empty plates and rolls a dumpling onto it.

“You girls should have something too.” He offers, giving the plates over to the girls.

“We couldn’t possibly!” Hinaka tries to wave it off. Kasumi is more assertive and tries to shove the plate offered to her back to Iori.

“Absolutely not, this is our thanks to you.”

“But…” Iori continues trying to get the girls to take the offering, “You have to be hungry.”

“We’ll eat later, it’s fine! Besides, it’s just one dumpling.” Hinaka says. “If you don’t want it, Tomizo can have it.”

“Ah…” Tomizo pauses, “If it’s for you, then I think you should have it.”

“I’ll eat it!” Hitoshi declares, reaching over everyone to grab the dumpling off of the plate intended for Hinaka and popping it into his mouth.

“H-Hitoshi!” Iori scolds, pulling the plate for Kasumi away before he can grab that too. Not that it stops him, reaching over to pluck up the last dumpling for himself. Groaning in protest, Iori sets the plate back onto the table in defeat as Hitoshi happily munches away.

The Tachibana sisters giggle at the scene, Hinaka scrambling up to clean up the plates and fetch more dumplings. On her way back, she nearly runs straight into her father and Zanki who happen to have just come back from a brief meeting in one of the shop’s back rooms.

“We’ve called our report back to Yoshino.” Zanki- known in his civilian form as Zaomaru, which Iori was quick to let Hitoshi in on- announces.

“What did the Executive have to say?” Iori sits up with interest, stiffening as if his father were there right now to listen in on them.

“He was quite pleased with our report,” the elder Tachibana says with a smile. He looks to Hitoshi and nods in greeting, quickly introducing himself. “Tachibana Ichirou, nice to meet you.”

“Yo!” Hitoshi greets, nodding in return. “Hibiki.”

Iori elbows him.

“Hidaka Hitoshi.” Hitoshi corrects.

Zaomaru rolls his eyes, pulling a chair out at a table on the far side of the small restaurant and plopping down. “Mass purification went off without an issue, Michibiki is never disappointed to hear that. I’m sure he’s in a good mood knowing that we’ve contained the whole thing and purified the sources.”

“Let’s not forget the praise you gave our little Iori.” Ichirou offers teasingly. Subconsciously, Iori feels himself perk up at the idea of being praised, his blush awfully pale in comparison to the one Zaomaru has now. “What was it again? ‘Your kiddo seems to be growing up well, he handled his task and his apprentice astoundingly for someone so young.’ Was that it?”

“I don’t remember saying that.” However, the look on Zaomaru’s face says that was exactly it.

“Did he say anything about me?” Hitoshi asks, hopeful. Ichirou smiles still.

“Not a thing.”

Iori laughs at the pout that rises to Hitoshi’s lips. This time, he’s the one getting elbowed.

Hinaka stumbles back through the door, more sweets in hand. “Dumplings, dumplings! I got dango too this time!”

“Oh thank god, all this talk has been making me hungry!” Tomizo is already scooping a plate off of Hinaka’s tray.

“You’re always hungry.” Kasumi counters. “I said the food is free until the third plate.”

“I thought that was a joke!”

“For you, it shouldn’t be.” Zaomaru says from his corner, accepting his plate of sweets and setting it aside.

It’s lighthearted as the restaurant fills with banter and laughter from that point on. The corruption issue had rendered the sweet shop closed for the day, giving them the rest of the night to enjoy each other’s company.

Iori glances over to Hitoshi as he sips his tea, watching the outline of his profile as he and Tomizo start a dango eating contest. Hinaka claps along, cheering for either side. She manages to drag Zaomaru out of his seat, and somehow there is a glint in his eye that says he’s rooting for Tomizo.

Even while stuffing mochi into his mouth, something about Hitoshi makes Iori’s chest flutter. He looks so happy, he’s genuinely enjoying himself amidst all these new people that had always been interlocked in the web of Iori’s world and it makes him smile a little wider than he should. He likes this, he likes having Hitoshi around.

Kasumi slides a chair up next to him, leaning into Iori to whisper. “You seem happy.”

“Ah…” He’s quick to set his cup down, “Do I? I guess I’m just relieved you’re okay.”

“Really? I thought it was because of Mr. New Guy.” She nudges her nose in Hitoshi’s direction. Iori tenses and waves her back dismissively.

“No, no that’s not it at all!” He knows he’s blushing, but he couldn’t be this happy because of Hitoshi. They only just met. It wouldn’t make sense.

“Well,” Kasumi smacks her lips together, not believing him for a second. “If you feel like smiling like a goof at him for the rest of the night, the guest room is set up upstairs. You’re welcome to stay the night.”

“That’s… thank you, but we should get back to Yoshino. I want to request something of Father directly.” Iori says, remembering his agreement with Hitoshi. Then he frowns. “I wasn’t smiling like a goof.”

“Could’ve fooled me~” she sings as she pulls herself up out of the chair, grabbing his cup and taking it into the back for a refill.

The dango contest is still going on, Hinaka still cheering wildly for either side.

Iori couldn’t tell who was winning at this point, but he wouldn’t admit to anyone that he hoped it was Hitoshi.

Chapter Text

By the time Iori finally makes his request to Michibiki to allow Hitoshi to return to Tokyo, it’s already the following afternoon. Stopping by his father’s office to drop off a lengthy report on his encounter with Kabuki as well as a status update on Treble Magus Hibiki’s apprenticeship and the situation with the Tachibana sisters provided him a perfect chance. However, just like most things he asked the Executive Magus, he was asked to wait for a response. That there were things that needed to be considered, and for the time being, Hibiki should remain in Yoshino.

So when Iori leaves his father’s office, he’s not surprised to find Hitoshi waiting for him in the Conservatory’s lobby. The man had been eager to get home.

“Yo!” he greets, giving Iori a salute. By now, Iori realized the two-fingered salute was simply a thing he did. It was just another one of Hitoshi’s eccentricities. “How’d it go, Ibuki?”

“It’s Iori.” Correcting Hitoshi flatly, he shakes his head and shrugs. “I was told to wait and have you continue to stay in Yoshino. At least it wasn’t a straight up no.”

“Ah…” Hitoshi puffs his lips out and buzzes them. “Did he at least read those reports you made me write?”

“You promised to write one of those, and no. He’s going to need time to review them between the Kabuki encounter, apprenticeship logs, and Tachibana corruption so it might be a while.” Iori stuffs his hands in his pockets, not sure what else to do. He honestly planned to do all this Q&A back at the house.

There is a long silence between the two, not sure where to go next. At least Iori fulfilled his promise in requesting Hitoshi return to his home and normal life, and Hitoshi fulfilled his promise to Michibiki. Clearing his throat, Hitoshi looks around the room and then to Iori.

“Hey, I’m hungry.”

/////

“So what are we supposed to do about this Kabuki guy?” Hitoshi asks, a mouthful of noodles having hanging from his lips. He slurps them up only after asking his question, noticing Iori’s grimace.

The two Magi are situated in a small ramen restaurant, seated at the counter. Iori is quick to wipe the flecks of broth Hitoshi sets flying all over the table. Perhaps the only time he didn’t want Hitoshi as his apprentice was when he was eating. He was sloppy, always talking with his mouth full. It was something he’d expect to only see out of Tomizo.

“Nothing right now.” Iori carefully lays ramen noodles into a pool of broth he had spooned up. “But eventually he’ll need to be purified.”

“Seems kinda hard to me.”

“Not if we could get him to sit still. And I highly doubt we’ll be the ones dispatched to do it.” Blowing on his noodles, Iori finally slurps them up. Taking time to chew, he only speaks once he’s finished. “Already Reflected Magi are harder to save once they corrupt. It requires a lot of magic, and usually the Bass Magus puts up a huge fight.”

There were already a lot of factors that made Kabuki difficult. His ability to slip the Reflector’s detection was a major one. Getting blindsided did not feel good, and surely Hitoshi had realized that from the last fight. Iori’s bruises ached at the memory.

Not to forget the swirl of cherry blossoms, he had a teleportation power. The armored shadow apparition was new, Iori hadn’t known Kabuki was able to do that. Then again, he didn’t really know terribly many details about the guy prior to being assigned to find the rogue Magus he now knew was Hitoshi.

“What even made him like that?” It snaps Iori out of his thoughts.

What did make Kabuki like that? Iori only knew the barebones details. “He was excommunicated from the Magnifique and has a grudge against us. I’m not sure what happened in what order, but I’m sure he corrupted and was excommunicated as a result.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s all I really know. To be honest, I never really thought to look into it. I was still overseas when it all happened.” Picking at a cluster of pickled ginger, Iori squints at it and reaches over to drop it in Hitoshi’s bowl.

“Don’t like ginger?” Hitoshi asks, stirring broth so the ginger mixed with the noodles.

“A little strong for me. Sorry, I should’ve asked before doing that, huh? You just seemed like the kind of guy who eats everything.” Iori laughs. Hitoshi grins, plucking a few mushrooms from his soup and offering them to Iori.

“I’m well-trained, of course I eat everything. But here, trade.” He waits for Iori to slide the bowl closer, dropping the mushrooms in and smiling. “Hey, I think if we see this Kabuki guy again, we should help purify him like you did with Akira and the Tachibana girls.”

Iori frowns. Right, he hadn’t ever explained corruption to Hitoshi beyond the absolute basics.

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“Eh? What do you mean it doesn’t work like that?” Hitoshi sets his chopsticks down. “It seems simply. We just shoot him with the Ship attack you do and he’ll be back to however we was before.”

“And I’m saying it doesn’t work like that!” Iori narrows his brows, setting his chopsticks down as well. He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “I didn’t have a chance to tell you this, but purifying a Bass Magus is more destructive than what we did to help your student or Kasumi and Hinaka.”

“You kill them.” Hitoshi assumes. Iori lifts his head up, eyes wide and shakes his head quickly.

“No… no! Goodness, no!” He waves his hands, like he’s trying to wave that idea away. “Nothing we do is to kill! It’s more like a Bass Magus is a lot more powerful than an ordinary person because they’ve Reflected, right? So a purification attack must be a lot stronger to overpower the Minor Magick stored in the damaged Reflector. For a normal person, Shippuu Issen, for example, can fix the mirror and reverse whatever damage has been done.”

“And for a Bass Magus…” Hitoshi pauses. Iori thinks he can hear the gears turning in his head, nodding slowly as if to coax him to come to the right conclusion himself. “It kills them.”

“No!!” Iori groans. “The shot has to be so strong, it will likely override their Reflector and the overload will completely destroy it. In fact, that’s the only way it will work.”

“And this fixes the problem how?”

“Destroying the Reflector will wipe out all magic abilities. There is nothing to reflect if there isn’t a mirror, but…” Iori picks up his chopsticks again and stirs into his soup, picking up one of the mushrooms Hitoshi had given him. It slips from his grip, back into the broth with a splatter. Great, now he was the one making a mess. “When you destroy something made to reflect your feelings, you lose those as well.”

Hitoshi offers over a napkin as Iori looks down his shirt to see where his soup broth has splattered to. He hesitantly accepts it, dabbing at the scattered stains with more urgency than when he reached to grab the napkin to begin with.

“Wait a minute.” Hitoshi says after a while.

“Hmm?”

“When we met in the park, you said you were there to purify me?”

“Yeah?”

“You were going to destroy my Reflector.”

“…Yeah.” Iori stops his frantic wiping and frowns. “If you were a Bass Magus and threatened to hurt people, my job was to hunt you down and purify you. Now you know what purifying a Bass Magus means, it’d have robbed you of the feelings that made you Reflect.”

Hitoshi is quiet, Iori doesn’t blame him. This meal had turned into a major downer, ramen noodles becoming overly bloated and soft as they sat in their respective broths. Iori had only just recently been given tasks by his father, he didn’t want to let him down after all that work. Performing his duties was important to him, however, Iori couldn’t deny the relief he felt when he realized Hitoshi wasn’t actually corrupted. The man might have been irritating, dense, a major handful, and one huge complication to his first mission, but he was relatively harmless.

“I’m really glad I didn’t have to though. You’re a really good guy.” Breaking the silence, Iori looks to Hitoshi, not realizing how soft his smile is.

Hitoshi blinks slowly, face blank as if he’s captivated by something and nods. His brain commits Iori’s smile in this moment to memory, his subconscious assigning it as “cute”. Not like he hadn’t done it before, the other Magus was a cute guy.

Iori turns around to look behind himself only to realize that strange look is directed at him. “Hey?”

Suddenly, Hitoshi becomes aware of what he was doing. He laughs loudly, prompting a few other patrons in the restaurant to look towards them, and then lifts his bowl off the table, gobbling it down at a speed that makes Iori worry he’ll choke. However, Hitoshi is fine, setting the now finished bowl of ramen down with a thunk and wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

“That makes me feel a lot better!” He says with a smile. Iori slides a glass of water over, emphasizing that the man needed to drink after consuming all that salt. Hitoshi accepts, downing that quickly. “Phew- anyways. I think if we tried harder, we could save Kabuki. If purifying the kids works fine, then there has to be a way! Maybe if we put our backs into it.”

“There’s…” Iori sighs. Hitoshi was already weird, with his luck, he’d absolutely be able to find a way to do it. Not that he was ready yet. The man couldn’t use spells in tandem with his weapon and that was the key thing required for purification. “Look, how about we finish that apprenticeship, and then we can think about saving people like that, okay?”

“At least that’s not a no.” Hitoshi notes. “Must run in the family.”

“I guess so.” Iori can’t help but chuckle. He scoops up some noodles, already cool and much too soggy, and makes a face.

“Gonna finish that?”

“…Yes.” Iori says reluctantly.

/////

On the way back to the house, Iori’s cellphone rings. It’s his father, calling directly from a Conservatory line.

“Treble Magus Ibuki speaking.” Iori says dutifully when he answers. Hitoshi walks slightly elevated on his toes, leaning in close to hear whatever it is Michibiki has to say. Not having a problem with it, Iori angles the phone so they both can listen.

“Ibuki, I’m calling to report that the Takeshi has considered your request in conjunction with the current circumstances.” Michibiki’s voice comes through the receiver.

The two Magi look to each other as the Executive continues to speak.

“Effective tomorrow, you and Treble Magus Hibiki will be assigned and relocated to Tokyo.”

Chapter Text

“There, that should be all of it!” Kasumi says cheerily as she sets down one of Iori’s bags beside one of the beds in the small upstairs guestroom of the Tachibana Sweet Shop.

“Thank you for hosting.” Plopping a large suitcase in the corner along with a few smaller bags and cases, Iori wipes his brow. He’d brought a lot with him, but even with help, bringing all of it upstairs was a workout. “I know the request was sudden, so I really appreciate it.”

“Oh please,” Waving her hand dismissively, Kasumi is already retreating towards the door. “We’ve already offered you the space to stay a bunch of times. I’m sure that house in Yoshino gets lonely.”

“Not really…” There is denial in his voice as Iori starts futzing with unpacking. He just doesn’t want Kasumi to worry about him. Pulling open a small dresser in the back of the room, he starts shoving in an array of neatly folded sweaters and pants.

“Sure, whate~ver you say.” Kasumi just laughs, knowing better. Iori was the kind of guy who liked to be prepared, but he brought enough stuff to stay a good, long while. He was clearly thrilled to be somewhere a lot less isolated. “Anyways, we could really use the help down in the restaurant whenever you’re not doing your Takeshi stuff.”

After receiving a nod and a thumbs up from Iori, Kasumi smiles and heads back down into the restaurant. He continues to empty his suitcase before raising a questioning brow towards the man seated comfily on the only other bed in the room.

“And why exactly are you staying here too?” Iori asks slowly.

“I thought I had to stick with you.” Hitoshi finally speaks up. He sways his legs playfully over the edge of the bed and then sits up straight. “Y’know, for the apprentice thing.”

“You have an apartment!” Closing one of the drawers, Iori tucks his empty suitcase under the bed. “It’s not going to hurt anyone if you stay there and I stay here.”

“Doesn’t make a difference.” There is a shrug, then Hitoshi pushes himself up and stretches. “I can still get to work from here.”

Sighing, Iori can’t seem to debate this any further. Rather, he’d like to not waste his energy trying to persuade Hitoshi that it was probably better for him to stay at his own place than in the Tachibana’s guest room. For starters, it would have probably been a lot more comfortable. Second, there was going to be absolutely no privacy between the two men at this rate.

“Though speaking of my apartment,” Hitoshi says, like something had just occurred to him. “I guess I need to stop there to pick a few things up. Like my toothbrush.”

“If you’re gonna go anyways, you should probably stay there.”

“Nah.” Hitoshi grins, “Do you wanna come along?”

/////

The offer to come to Hitoshi’s apartment, Iori realized not long after he hesitantly accepted it, was more a ploy to get a free ride on the Takeshi-issued motorcycle that Iori was allowed to bring along.

“You do so much of that weird magic teleporting stuff, I didn’t realize you had a motorcycle license.” Hitoshi laughs once they park outside his development.

“I still have to get around like a normal person.” Iori’s reply is flat as he accepts Hitoshi’s helmet back. He balances his own helmet on one of the bike’s mirrors while storing the spare in the trunk compartment. Normally when people inquired, he’d say something about motorcycles being cool or how much he liked bikes. The minute he was old enough, he had taken the exam for his license. However, currently he was trying to shake off the feeling of Hitoshi’s arms circled around his waist the whole ride. He’d asked him not to, but the man insisted it felt safer than clinging to the seat.

The sensation lingered, even as the two got into the building and to Hitoshi’s apartment.

Inside, there isn’t anything thrilling. Hitoshi’s apartment is plain with white walls and basic furniture. There was a TV and a couch and small dining area. Beyond that, Iori was sure there was an equally plain bedroom he wasn’t all that enthused about checking to see. The only things that really screamed “Hidaka Hitoshi” in any capacity were several weight sets along the near wall and what was clearly a drum set that had been draped over with a bedsheet.

“My neighbors hate hearing it, so I barely use it.” Hitoshi laughs once he notices Iori eyeing it up.

“So when do you practice?”

“I got a drum pad in my bedroom. Guess I should bring that.” Patting Iori on the shoulder, Hitoshi directs him to the couch. “Hey, I’ll be quick. Just sit tight while I throw some stuff together.”

Once Iori settles down, Hitoshi vanishes into his bedroom. Eyes falling back on the drum set, he wonders if maybe Hitoshi would enjoy using one of the kits in the Conservatory’s practice center. Being a Beat Magus, he was more than welcome to use the facilities whenever he wanted. Even if the mood struck late at night, the walls were soundproofed so no one, including the Executive Magus who lived on sight, would be bothered by Hitoshi going wild.

Maybe, if Hitoshi wanted, Iori could probably convince the Tachibana’s to allow them to bring the drum set over. Not that the guest room had the space for it, but Iori had his own instrument to practice during his stay. It would only be fair. The restaurant patrons could even appreciate the live music if Hitoshi were any good.

“Okay, I think this is all of it.” Hitoshi’s voice snaps Iori out of his thoughts. Unlike the younger man who had traveled from Yoshino with a multitude of suitcases and bags as if he planned to stay for a month, Hitoshi only had a single duffle bag stuffed beyond capacity with clothes and other essentials. A set of drumsticks poked out from the zipper.

“Is that going to be enough?” Iori points out, standing up.

“First you want me to stay here all the time, then you think I should move into the Tachibana’s after all?” Adjusting the strap on his shoulder, Hitoshi laughs as he watches Iori’s face turn red.

“N-no…?!” Iori sputters, quickly looking for something to change the subject. He glances around Hitoshi and points at the man’s telephone, the answering machine’s light flashing. “Hey! I think you have messages to check!”

Glancing over at the machine, Hitoshi sets his bag down and stares at the device. His finger hovers over the keypad like he’s really thinking about it before jabbing at a button clumsily. A dial tone from the number pressed begins to sound through the speakers.

“Darn it, wrong button.” Hitoshi picks up the receiver and puts it down to reset the device. Jabbing at another button, the blinking light goes off and a message begins to play.

“Hitoshi?” A woman’s voice comes through the speakers. “Hitoshi, this is Midori. I heard something happened during your class and you’ve been missing. Where did you go?! Everyone’s been freaking out, it’s absolute madness. You have to give me a call back, at least so I know you’re okay.”

Iori leans over, watching Hitoshi grimace in response. “Your girlfriend?”

“No!” Hitoshi jabs the button again as another message plays. “Just my coworker.”

“Hitoshi, it’s Midori again. Really, you need to change your emergency contacts. I’ve got the cops calling asking for you, the school is trying to put through a missing person’s report. I know you’re getting these, give me a call back already!”

Another stab at the keypad plays another message.

”Greetings, Mr. Hidaka. It’s your esteemed colleague, Ms. Takizawa, calling you once again to figure out where the heck you’ve run off to. Honestly, if I find out you’re getting these and can’t remember how to use your answering machine again, I’m going to be sooooo mad. Just kidding! Maybe. Look, the kids are worried about you. They said whatever happened was terrifying and Akira won’t talk about it. You need to give me a call as soon as you get this. ”

After that, another message.

“Okay, you really owe me now. Wherever you are, just know I’m requesting, no, demanding compensation for the crime I just committed. I’m thinking ramen with all the extra toppings I want. Anyways, I forged you a doctor’s note saying that you just have a terrible cold. When you decide to stop being missing, can you make sure to act like you still have a little cough or something? Oh! I should ask for more free food if you make me keep doing this… Call me back.”

“Are you sure she’s not your girlfriend…?” Iori side eyes Hitoshi, “She sounds like the kind of person you’d date.”

Hoisting the duffle back over his shoulder, Hitoshi laughs and then smacks Iori in the shoulder playfully. “Come on, seriously. Stop with that, she’s just my friend. Though she is single if that’s why you’re asking.”

Blushing again, Iori shakes his head quickly. “No?!”

“I’m joking.”

“… Right.” Iori blinks. Maybe he should have realized he was getting set up.

As Hitoshi exits the apartment, Iori feels relieved. He can’t figure out why, but something about Hitoshi not being with this Midori person put him at ease.

/////

“Shouldn’t you give that woman a call?” Iori asks on the ride back to the sweets shop. He’s just trying to strike up conversation to distract himself from the feeling of the strong arms that were wrapped around him.

“Nah, I think I’ll surprise her when I get back to work tomorrow.” Hitoshi muses aloud.

“She seemed really worried though.”

“Yeah, but she knows me. She’ll probably just yell at me for a few minutes and then say something like ‘Geez, you scared me! Don’t run off like that again!’”

“Implying you’ve done this before.” Iori frowns, pulling to a stop light and looking at Hitoshi.

“I mean, maybe I’ve forgotten to put in my vacation days with the boss before actually taking them a few times.” There is a laugh, it’s hearty but it fades out quickly. “Not sure if she’s gonna believe all this Beat Magus stuff.”

“You can’t tell her about it!” The light turns green, but Iori doesn’t move. “It’s absolutely a secret! Normal people can’t know about us.”

Someone honks from behind them, catching Iori’s attention. He jolts once he realizes the light has changed and quickly kicks off.

“The Tachibanas know about them. Why is that okay, but telling Midori isn’t?” Hitoshi asks.

“Different circumstance. Mr. Tachibana is really good friends with my dad and that goes beyond the Beat Magi and the Magnifique.” Iori explains. “The Tachibanas are contracted as non-Magus supporters of the Magnifique which is why they’re helping us out right now.”

“So why the big secret?”

“History. The European branch especially had an issue with Beat Magi being mistaken for witches a long time ago. The Magnifique decreed with the Magus Saint’s guidance that keeping the organization and the Beat Magi as secret as possible was the better course of action.” Reaching the Tachibana Sweet Shop, Iori parks his bike out front. Removing his helmet, he turns to Hitoshi. “We don’t have witch hunts anymore, but it’s best we keep this stuff as under wraps as possible. The Magnifique’s decree was never lifted for safety’s sake.”

Getting off the bike, Hitoshi straightens out the strap of the duffle bag that wrapped across his chest and nods. “I guess that makes sense. But what if we get caught?”

“You should be trying to avoid that. Otherwise, I’ll teach you the warp spell for a speedy escape.” Iori offers with a wink.

The two men enter the restaurant, fairly busy in the afternoon hour. Hinaka, surrounded by tables full of customers, looks to Iori as if desperate. Waving her hands frantically, he can tell they need help. He could only assume Kasumi was in the back packing delivery orders.

“Hey,” he says to Hitoshi. “I think I should help out down here. You should really call that Midori lady before going back to work tomorrow. Surprises are funny and all, but she seemed worried.”

Hitoshi doesn’t get a chance to respond before Iori hurries off into a backroom, likely to change into the restaurant’s work uniform.

/////

Now Hitoshi did call Midori, but it didn’t save him from the earful he received the following morning. As expected, the minute he walked into the teacher’s room, she was in his face. It was surprising she was even still there considering how close he was cutting it to the first bell. The office was empty save for her.

“Geez, you scared me!” Midori says, very evidently trying to not raise her voice lest she be heard out in the hallway. “Don’t run off like that again!”

“You mean, don’t get sick again, right?” Hitoshi accents the question with an obviously fake cough. He watches as Midori removes her glasses and run a hand through her long, dark hair. Sighing she nods.

“You are okay, right?”

“Of course I am! Never been better. Want me to flex?” Not waiting for her reply, he flexes an arm as if that would show he was right as rain. It does make Midori smile, the woman slipping her glasses back on.

Leaning in closer, her voice is much lower. “You are going to tell me where you’ve been though, right? Until I forged that note, this place was a mess.”

Naturally, Hitoshi would have fessed up immediately. He’s a terrible liar, as everyone already knew, and aside from the corruptions he had dealt with already, the Magnifique’s secret world was honestly a cool story.

But Iori had told him to keep it a secret. Swallowing, Hitoshi doesn’t think it would really hurt to tell Midori. She was a good friend, the kind of person who would keep a secret. However, he waits a touch too long to respond and she pulls back, crossing her arms.

“By the way, I heard Akira is going to come back today. She’s been locked up at home unboxing whatever it is that happened to her.” Midori says, stepping away to go grab some papers from her desk. Organizing them quickly, she stuffs them into a folder and picks them up to take with her. “You can tell me whatever happened over that ramen you owe me, but you should really check on the kid.”

“Leave it to me!” Hitoshi offers Midori a salute as she scurries out of the office.

Now that he thinks to check the time, the bell is about to ring. Tossing his coat over his chair, he sifts through a thankfully small stack of mail strewn across his desk and decides to check it more thoroughly later. He was sure he’d have a lot of catching up to do once the day really got started.

/////

Just as Midori had said, Akira was present in his class today. Leaning back against the wall, she doesn’t participate. Instead, she watches as the others played volleyball, biting her lip as she sees one of her classmates get whacked in the face with the ball. The kid stumbles and covers an eye, jogging to the side as if to get his bearings. There hadn’t been any ill intent to it, it was obviously an accident, but Akira’s face seemed troubled all the same.

“Yo, not feeling up to playing?” Hitoshi’s voice breaks the girl from her thoughts as he leans down a little to meet her eyes.

Shaking her head, Akira doesn’t say anything. In fact, she looks into Hitoshi’s eyes for a few seconds before looking away to the far side of the room.

“Do you need to go to the nurse?” Hitoshi asks. Akira shakes her head again. “Will you tell me what’s wrong?”

Akira watches her classmate jump back into the game, clearly recovered from the earlier hit. Following her gaze, Hitoshi picks out this student easily. He is a soft-spoken boy named Adachi Asumu.

“Mr. Hidaka.” Akira finally says after a long while. She still refuses to look at him. Behind her, she links her pinkies together and tugs. “Do you know what happened to me?”

Memories of the girl struggling like a feral animal in his arms flashed to the forefront of Hitoshi’s mind. Of course he knew, he helped her. Kind of. Iori did more of the work.

Iori also said not to tell anyone about the Beat Magi.

“It was scary, I was scary.” Her voice shakes a little. “I was so angry, I wanted to hurt people. I wanted to hurt everyone. It was all I could think of... What was that? I don’t want to be like that… Why…?”

“Akira, I don’t kn-“ Hitoshi starts, resting his hand on her shoulder to calm her down.

“You do!” She cuts him off, finally looking him in the eye. “Mr. Hidaka, you do know! You brought that guy here and all that stuff happened. I saw you take out some mirror thing and change into someone else!”

What was the point in keeping this a secret? She clearly knew something was up. Hitoshi uses his other hand to scratch the back of his head as he searches his mind for an answer. Really, he wanted to tell her. It was better than lying and he knew she wasn’t going to be leading any witch hunts against him.

Visibly upset, Akira brushes her teacher’s hand off her shoulder.

“How do I know I’m not going to become like that again?” She sounds afraid, terrified. “I felt like I was being consumed…”

The volleyball game continues, but Hitoshi is able to drown it out completely. He’s been worried about her this whole time. He hadn’t anticipated this kind of reaction. “You won’t.”

“How do you know that?!”

“Because I won’t let it.” Hitoshi nods, his voice soft. She looks like she doesn’t believe him. “Akira, what happened wasn’t your fault. I promise that I’m going to work harder to keep it from ever happening again.”

Smacking against the wall next to them, the two are startled by the volleyball as it flew free from the match. Asumu runs over to grab it.

“Sorry, sorry!” He apologizes, glancing around Hitoshi at Akira. “Are you okay?”

“Yes!” Akira forces a smile which seems to appease Asumu. He bows his head awkwardly and then turns to charge back into the game. As soon as he isn’t looking at her anymore, her smile drops. “Mr. Hidaka, I know he’s getting bullied.”

Hitoshi blinks.

“Though one of my kids has been getting bullied lately and I’ve had to do some guidance work. He doesn’t have a dad so I’ve been giving him a bunch of advice. He won’t tell me who does it and I never see it happening, but I know it’s going on.”

Of course she knew about that, she was good friends with Asumu. She probably knew who was doing it unless Asumu had been hiding that from her as well. Hitoshi frowns, brows angled upwards in concern.

“Akira, can you tell me anything else about that?”

She shakes her head. “No, but it makes me so angry. He won’t tell me anything about it so I don’t worry, but I know it’s happening. He had a black eye the other day…”

Resting a hand on her head, Hitoshi ruffles her hair lightly. “You’re a good kid to worry about him like that. It’s okay to be angry that someone hurt your friend.”

For once, something is clicking in Hitoshi’s head. Akira’s anger went hand in hand with her behavior when she corrupted. Her blind rage, her willingness to pounce and attempt to maim anyone who faced her. When Kabuki had speared her unactivated Reflector, he had distorted her feelings, her anger towards those who hurt her friend, into something even more violent. Purifying her Reflector had made her afraid to experience emotions that destructive again.

He couldn’t bring himself to tell her this, Iori was trusting him to keep a secret.

Though he wished Iori had given him some tips on how to discreetly talk someone through this, assuming he knew any.

“I don’t actually want to hurt people.” Akira sniffles weakly.

“And you won’t.” Hitoshi nods. “Come on, chin up. You don’t deserve to feel this low about yourself, kid. No matter what happens, there is a world of people that never want this to happen to you again.”

Akira raises a brow once he says this. “…Who?”

“Well, I don’t for starters. I’m sure Asumu doesn’t either. And that guy who was with me the other day wouldn’t. Nor would his friends, they’re pretty nice, or…” Hitoshi pauses, debating his wording slightly before he continues. “I don’t think those two guys who saved you would want this. That’s why they saved you. And I’m sure they’ll be back to protect you no matter what so you never need to feel this afraid again.”

“Mr. Hidaka, I know that was you.” Akira presses, but Hitoshi shakes his head.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that unless he told you his name was also Mr. Hidaka.”

Teetering the moment from serious to a little silly, he looks to see if Akira cracks a smile. She doesn’t, but she does look confused, like she was sure she had seen her gym teacher transform into some kind of oni-horned magician.

“Though I think I did catch his name when I was evacuating everyone.” Hitoshi adds, suddenly piquing her interest. There we go, this would hopefully appease Akira’s questioning about who she encountered without exposing himself.

“What was it?” Akira asks.

“I heard he called himself Treble Magus Hibiki.”

Chapter Text

Despite their assignment to Tokyo, a month passes without so much as another peep from Kabuki. For Iori, it worries him. The silence makes it seem like something much worse than before is bound to happen.

However, it does give him to time to focus on his training with Hitoshi. Taking advantage of any opportunity Hitoshi can spare outside of his working life, Iori tries to hammer nearly every spell he can think of into the other’s muscle memory.

Of course, Hitoshi is a natural once he gets the hang of it, pulling off spells in conjunction with his weapon despite several dud attempts that seemed to only change the color of the taiko sticks he used. Those attempts would blow up on him, sending him flying comically across the Conservatory’s training center. Iori wouldn’t even get to tell Hitoshi what to adjust to keep it from happening again. The man would get up and seem to recalculate it on his own, combative training ending once Hitoshi workshopped himself into using a single taiko stick to manifest a flaming katana blade.

With an obliterated training dummy beside him, Iori had more confidence in Hitoshi being able to handle minor purifications in a pinch. Though the obliterated dummy also made him worried that his assistance would still be needed with such a heavy-handed fighter like Hitoshi. At least the success meant that they could ease themselves off of the intensive training schedule.

Iori did also impart the warp spell on Hitoshi, that training somehow a lot more frightening than anything else they had done. Hands joined so they wouldn’t get separated in the transfer, he had shown Hitoshi exactly how to trace the magic circle larger than normal and to focus on where they needed to go. Taking the lead, Hitoshi would follow Iori’s instructions, but instead of going to places assigned, they found themselves elsewhere.

“Oh, hey.” Hitoshi said when they emerged from the gate only to be surrounded by nothing but ice and penguins. “This was in a documentary they had on TV last night.”

Chattering his teeth at the cold, Iori tried to squeeze Hitoshi’s hand harder to get his attention. “Which is funny because I said to take us to the lot behind the sweet shop and NOT to Antarctica.”

“Haha… right, sorry. I guess I got distracted.”

Even now the warp was a work in progress, but at least he could use it.

A month in close quarters meant that the two learned more from each other than just spells. Iori had a lot more quirks to his personality than he let on.

For starters, Iori didn’t just dislike strong flavors. He was a picky eater entirely. Shoving aside chunks of onions, carrots, olives, whatever it was he disliked and turning his nose up to spicy dishes in general. It was cute, Hitoshi thought, and it greatly contrasted with his own willingness to eat just about anything put in front of him. More often than not, he’d finish whatever it was Iori picked out from his meals.

Then there was the discovery that transforming into a Beat Magus didn’t actually have an activation phrase. Hitoshi always just said whatever came to mind or sounded exciting. Iori’s more refined call of “Detail” spoken in English before transforming had been a habit he picked up while studying at the Paris Conservatory. For Iori, it was simply him imitating a previous instructor and he hadn’t been able to shake it.

A plethora of other things could be said about Iori. Hitoshi learned that he got embarrassed easily, going out of his way to change clothes in the bathroom while Hitoshi did so in their shared room like it was a gym locker room.

Iori liked to keep his space tidy, always made his bed in the morning, and kept his clothes neatly folded. Iori played a trumpet which he would stuff with a practice mute every morning so not to disturb the Tachibanas, and he was pretty good at playing it. Iori liked jazz music and swing. Iori could cook well and enjoyed doing it. Iori had apparently been a mama’s boy growing up. Iori might still be a mama’s boy. Iori would bite his lip and look away when he got nervous or flustered.

Hitoshi committed all of these discoveries about the other Magus to memory, not realizing he was even doing so. He liked Iori, it’s all he felt he needed to know.

But the more he knew, the more he liked Iori.

So Hitoshi would always offer him the bath first in the evenings, would always drape a blanket over his shoulders whenever he fell asleep at his desk, and would always bring up something to drink when he heard Iori begin to wrap up his horn practice.

It was only a month, but Hitoshi really liked Iori and it felt natural.

He liked that.

/////

“Hitoshi?” Iori’s voice stops him one day as he’s heading out for work. Halfway out the door, Hitoshi turns back to see Iori poke his head out from between the curtains leading to the back of the restaurant. Relief washes over his face and he smiles. “Oh good, I caught you! Here.”

Stepping back inside, Hitoshi accepts what Iori holds out to him. It’s a bento, wrapped carefully in a cloth. He must’ve been looking at it like it was foreign because Iori cocks a brow and then laughs.

“Uncle gave the girls today off so they went to an art museum or something.” Iori points to the bento. “I thought it’d be rude to make them something and leave you out. Knowing you, I think you’ll like what I made.”

This was absolutely a first for Hitoshi. Iori had never made him lunch like this before. Smiling wide, he holds the bento with both hands like it’s more important than just his lunch. “Thanks! I’ll make sure I eat all of it then!”

/////

“Since when did you start bringing bentos?” Midori asks after taking a loud sip of her juice, trying to siphon up whatever was left in the cup with a straw. “Don’t tell me… you have a girlfriend?!”

“Eh?” Hitoshi frowns as he unwraps the box and removes the lid. “Of course not! Iori gave this to me.”

Midori leans over to see what had been packed. The rice was pretty standard and expected, layered on top with a few sheets of nori. The main dish was a fish cutlet with a generous helping of what seemed to be a homemade tartar sauce. There was also a small green bean salad topped with sesame seeds and steamed carrots that had been cut into cutesy flower shapes.

“Woah, he really went all out.” Hitoshi laughs, marveling at the meal. He looks to Midori and points to it. “He’s even trying to dump the carrots onto people that aren’t him so they don’t get mixed up into dinner tonight.”

“This definitely looks like your girlfriend packed it.” Midori laughs, laughing harder when Hitoshi pouts. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! It’s just cute!”

A music score sits open in front of her and while she’s bantering, she’s marking notes into it for her class. Hitoshi watches her as he digs into his bento, thinking that her focus reminds him especially of Iori.

“All-Japan?” He asks after a while. Midori nods.

“Still a ways off, so they’ll probably be sick of this music by then, but I think we might have a chance to medal if we get this one down.” Brushing her hair out of her face, Midori reaches into a bag of chips and munches on one in thought. “Symphonic is the only way anyways. Kyoto Tachibana would crush us no matter what we did if we tried for marching.”

“Orange Devils would be hard to beat.” Hitoshi leans back in his seat. “Don’t they play that one song a lot?”

“Sing, Sing, Sing?” Midori rolls her eyes. “Every year, but the leg work makes them impossible to catch up to. I can’t seem to get our kids to have that energy. They deserve those wins.”

It was true, Kyoto Tachibana was absolutely known for their high energy and playing a swing piece such as “Sing, Sing, Sing” with so much movement and vigor really set them apart from the average band. They had a strong presence.

Midori’s kids did have a better shot at placing in the symphonic competition in that regard.

Feeling lucky that he doesn’t have to worry about the logistics of having to lose to the best competitive marching band in Japan every year, Hitoshi finishes his lunch. Packing the empty box away, he notes that he has to tell Iori he loved it.

He wondered what Iori thought of Kyoto Tachibana.

Hitoshi checks the time. Then it hits him that he’s late for something.

“Ah, ah… Shoot!” he jolts out of his chair, bumping the table and leading Midori to leave a dark pencil mark half across her score in surprise. “I got a meeting with the boy’s mom about that whole bullying thing!”

Grabbing up the bento box, he gives Midori a quick salute before shuffling out of the room and back to the office.

/////

Luckily, Adachi Ikuko is running late. When Hitoshi gets to the teacher’s room, he’s able to stuff the bento into a drawer in his desk and shove some mail to the side of his in a disorderly little pile that says “hey, I tried to be organized, but I’m very busy”. Still being the lunch hour, he’s the only one there save for a couple other teachers who seemed to be working through some grading at their desks.

However, twenty minutes go by after this and the woman isn’t anywhere to be seen. Then the bell rings. Lunch break ends. Midori comes hurrying into the room to drop off the score she was working on and gather up sheet music for another piece she was having the band work on.

“Did you have your meeting yet?” Midori ties up her hair messily, tucking her baton into the manilla folder she’d organized the music in. She’d likely drop it a million times on the way to her room like that.

Shaking his head, Hitoshi checks the time again. “No, but I don’t have a class for another period.”

“Huh.” Is all she says before she’s out of the room. Stopping directly outside the door, Hitoshi sees her look someone up and down cautiously before looking back into the room. “Hidaka, I think your guest is here.”

Midori then steps around this person after bowing quickly. A woman rounds the corner to stand in the door frame, looking absolutely exhausted. Her eyes are sunken and lined by dark circles, her hair flat. She’s dressed in a dolled up cab driver uniform, the gold trim of the black uniform nowhere near matching the miserable expression on her face.

“Ms. Adachi?” Hitoshi stands up to greet her at the door. The woman looks to him quietly and nods slowly. “Are you alright? I thought you were gonna be here a half hour ago.”

“I got held up.” Ikuko’s voice is hollow, she sounds vacant. Which is odd, she was a lot more lively over the phone when they made the appointment.

“Makes sense, it is during the work day.” Hitoshi laughs and then gestures for her to come in and have a seat. The woman staggers towards him.

“A young man told me to pass on a message.” She speaks again.

“Asumu?”

Ikuko shakes her head. “Ka-bu-ki.”

The annunciation is the most inflection her voices has and it takes Hitoshi a second to process what she said before stepping away from her. Now he realizes why she looks so drained and why her outfit is so dressed up. Pinned to her lapel is a mirror that looks so broken apart, the fragments that remain aren’t shining.

“What did he tell you?” Hitoshi narrows his brow, immediately on guard. Thankfully with the end of the lunch hour, the remaining teachers in the room had left not long before Midori came in earlier.

“Too tired to remember.” Ikuko admits, “He said to give you a hard time.”

Despite that declaration, the woman doesn’t do anything. It’s unlike anything Hitoshi had seen before. Other corrupted were usually deranged and erratic. This one was just tired.

Ikuko yawns and steps further into the office. Whatever reason Kabuki had to corrupt this woman obviously backfired. She swatted at Hitoshi halfheartedly. He catches her by the wrist and looks around to make sure no one was watching from the hall.

“Ms. Adachi, I’m begging you to not remember any of this.” Pulling out his Reflector, Hitoshi lets himself transform. Ikuko’s eyes go wide at the sudden change in appearance and tries to pull her arm away.

Now as Hibiki, he doesn’t let go of her and instead pulls her towards his desk. Seating the woman in the chair he had already prepared for her, he keeps a firm hand on her shoulder to keep her from getting up.

Not that she tries, the minute she’s in the seat, she relaxes. What was Kabuki even thinking messing with her? Surely he could tell she was too exhausted to function before doing his corruption thing.

Deciding to make this quick, Hibiki traces the outline of his Reflector and draws a single taiko stick. “Ms. Adachi, I’m gonna fix this for you and you’ll get some sleep, okay?”

“I could use some sleep.” Ikuko says blankly, staring through Hibiki rather than at him as he moves.

At least she isn’t startled. Holding the single taiko stick in both hands, Hibiki allows the oni-headed stone at the tip to burst into flame just as he had done in practice so many times. A katana blade manifests from the flame.

He hadn’t named this spell, that was another quirk Iori picked up for himself while studying abroad. So when Hibiki reangles the blade and sinks the mirage of flame and steel into Ikuko’s cracked mirror, it’s wordless. He needs that time to focus anyways.

There is a delay, he’s never done this on a person, and worry sets in that he’s impaled her before he sees the familiar blinding light begin to spill out from the fragments of her broken Reflector. It’s strong and unexpectedly, there is a kickback for him from having dug the magic blade into her the way he has. Hibiki gets sent into his own chair, that sliding back and tipping as the room fills with a brilliant white.

Rolling out of the chair, he rubs the back of his head and sits up, relieved when he sees Adachi Ikuko slumped over beside his desk sound asleep.

“Ms. Adachi…?” Hibiki gets up, leaning over to check. She snores softly, very much asleep. Breathing a sigh of relief that she seemed unharmed, Hibiki drops his transformation and picks up his chair.

The familiar sound of a conductor’s baton hitting the floor grabs his attention. When Hitoshi looks up, he sees Midori staring at him in stunned silence from the office doorway.

/////

“Where have you been?” Iori asks when Hitoshi returns to the sweet shop. He’s the only one in dining room, an empty teacup set in front of him. The clock reads a quarter after nine, the restaurant had been closed for a few hours now.

“I owed Midori a ramen,” Hitoshi says with a laugh, “with all the toppings she wanted.”

“Oh…” Futzing with the empty cup in his hands, Iori looks troubled. Pulling out a seat, Hitoshi sits across from him and tilts his head.

“Are you mad?”

Iori looks and shakes his head quickly. “No, no! Not that! I’ve just had a bad feeling since this afternoon.”

“Were you worried about me?” Resting his chin in his hands, Hitoshi’s smile is slightly smug. Biting his lip, Iori looks away.

“A little.” He admits. “I thought I was detecting a corrupted, but it was more like a faint blip. When you didn’t come home in time, I thought something happened.”

“Ah, that.” Hitoshi says, pausing when Iori looks at him a little more seriously. Picking his head up out of his hands, he doesn’t know why he feels that he needs to cover it up, but he chooses this to be the moment he places the wrapped empty bento on the table between them. “Noooot that anything happened. By the way, the lunch was really good.”

“What do you mean by ‘that?’” Sliding the bento away, Iori ignores the compliment.

“Nothing, it was nothing, really.” Hitoshi tries to shrug it off. “I just met with a student’s mom.”

At least that wasn’t a lie. Unfortunately, Iori was already suspicious. In fact, he was already pretty sure he knew what Hitoshi had done.

“That blip was because of you, wasn’t it?” Iori asks, leaning back in his chair. “Who saw?”

“No one, honest!” Raising his hands in defense, Hitoshi also leans back, the chair balancing on two legs. “It was hardly a fight to begin with and the woman was alright. She thought it was all a dream when she woke up and apologized profusely for falling asleep.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Iori sighs and then shakes his head. “You should’ve called me. You’re not supposed to be doing that on your own yet at all. Now I’m gonna have to make you write a report, and I’ll have to report on it too. And the Executive isn’t going to be happy.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Hitoshi is willing to accept this level of scolding. If it can even be called that. At this rate Iori just sounds more inconvenienced.

“No one saw?” Iori asks again.

Hitoshi nods. “No one saw.”

/////

“I knew you had been acting different lately.” Midori admits over her ramen. Piled on top of her noodles were extra helpings of pork and bamboo shoots, just as she had wanted. “Is this why you disappeared last month?”

“Sort of?” Hitoshi scratches his cheek, but doesn’t touch his meal. Unusual, he was always the kind of person to have an appetite. “It’s a huge long story and I was told not to tell.”

“By who?”

“Iori.”

Midori stirs her broth and nods. “Mmm… so he’s one of whatever that was too. Explains why you suddenly live in a sweet shop now.”

“It’s a Beat Magus.” Hitoshi explains quietly, “And really, I was told it’s a huge secret. Iori said there’d be witch hunts or something. Not that I think you would do that to me, but…”

Laughing, Midori smacks Hitoshi’s arm playfully. “Seriously? Calm down! You’ve just given me the shock of my life, but I’m not going to burn you at the stake for it!”

“I…” Hitoshi laughs too, a bit nervously at first, but it becomes hearty enough that every in the shop turns to look at him. Midori quickly shushes him. “You’re right! Geez, what was I so worried about?”

“So what does a Beat Magus do?” she asks, now with genuine curiosity rather than trying to roast Hitoshi for answers.

There was a lot to it, a lot that Iori had taught and explained to him. It took him a month to get what he knew down, telling Midori would take a while.

“Well…” he begins.

Hitoshi has an appetite again, digging into his own ramen as he begins to explain the past month of his life to his friend.

And this is what leads to the two of them standing in the park, in the same clearing where Iori and Hitoshi had met. The sun had set a while ago, the two only having been able to get here by the light from Midori’s cell phone.

Transforming into Hibiki, he immediately traces a circle like he had done several times before. A bird familiar conjures itself and lets out a cry which leaves the woman amazed.

“Iori usually has me training to work on this stuff, but…” Watching as Midori holds a hand out for the bird to perch, he frowns. “I’m starting to realize something.”

“What is it?” Midori asks, stroking the top of the bird’s head with a finger. It nuzzles into the affection.

“I need to work harder, people are corrupting because of this Kabuki guy I told you about. I have to work harder than what Iori is asking of me so people don’t get hurt.” Hibiki traces his Reflector, summoning his drumsticks. “I’m going to train so I can save Kabuki, but also to stop him from hurting anyone else. It’s only been a month and I’ve seen four people corrupt.”

As if it understands what he wants, the bird launches itself from Midori’s finger and flies towards Hibiki as if to attack. Letting the sticks become consumed with a luminous purple flame, he begins to spar with the familiar. It’s small and quick, moving almost as soundlessly as Kabuki would when he teleported through his shower of cherry blossoms.

Not sure what else to do, Midori watches wordlessly. The night is accented by the ringing of bells as Hibiki moves and the familiar’s coos. Closing her eyes, she thinks she gets what he means. Akira was her student too.

The pain of corruption didn’t stop with purification.

/////

Seated at his desk, Iori is busy writing a report to send to Yoshino first thing in the morning. It’s partially his sparse daily training log, but the rest is what he had heard from Hitoshi.

“Yo, Ibuki.” Hitoshi enters the room, fresh from the bath and clothed in only a pair of loose-fitting pajama bottoms. “Can’t you do that tomorrow? I’m sure your old man can wait.”

“It’s Io- would it kill you to put on a shirt?!” Iori whines, picking up his pillow and lobbing it at the other man in embarrassment. Hitoshi catches it with a cheeky grin, but Iori has already turned back to his desk by then.

Fluffing the pillow, Hitoshi sets it back onto Iori’s bed and shrugs. “You’re still not mad right?”

“I…” Iori stops writing and thinks. “I was never mad, maybe a little disappointed. Maybe…”

“Maybe?”

Relieved? Iori thinks. Relieved that Hitoshi is okay, that he had handled the corruption on his own and no one was hurt?

“Bothered?” Iori offers instead. “Seriously, where did you go between dinner and here? There is no way eating ramen took that long!”

Tugging on a t-shirt he pulled out from a mountain of clothing tucked under his bed, Hitoshi shrugs and rolls onto his blankets. “Just training. Figured I’d get it in since I didn’t get to do anything with you today.”

“Ah…” Iori pauses for a while, turning to look at Hitoshi who was laid back on his bed. His head rest on his hands, his eyes closed. He hadn’t bothered to get himself under the blankets before settling down. Admittedly, Iori had actually been training with him less and less on purpose already. Something about Hitoshi working all day and then coming home to train rigorously seemed unhealthy, especially paired with the man’s already insane morning workout. “Just remember to take breaks, okay?”

“Mhmm…” Hitoshi answers, then yawns. He was starting to understand why Adachi Ikuko gave up her half-hearted fight the minute he sat her down. “By the way, Ibuki.”

“… Yes?” Iori’s tone is annoyed, but he doesn’t correct him.

“Can you make me another bento tomorrow?”

Chapter Text

“Mr. Hidaka?”

The shy voice calling his name makes Hitoshi sit up suddenly. Turning his head, Asumu is standing beside his desk with a questioning look on his face.

“Is this a bad time?” Asumu asks. Hitoshi shakes his head and reaches to pull a chair over for the boy to sit.

“No, no! Not at all, boy! Come on, sit.” He waves his hand towards the chair and Asumu does so. The boy sits with his knees together and shoulders hunched.

It had been a few days since Adachi Ikuko had come by to meet with him and a few days since he started his more intensive Beat Magus training regimen. Midori would tend to come with him, marking musical scores by flashlight as Hibiki would train himself.

Really, Midori was there to remind him of the time. It only took one more late night of training for him to receive a genuinely worried scolding from Iori the minute he walked in the door. The following day he received a bento with a note tucked under the box’s elastic band that had read “Be home for dinner - 7 pm”.

So Hitoshi began working himself harder during the time he had: increasing the number of familiars he fought as practice, trying to increase the output of his existing spells, etc. It left him a hot, sweaty mess by the time 6:30 rolled around and Midori told him it was time to wrap up. It also left him tired.

He’d only been at this for a couple days. He would just have to train his stamina to handle that better.

“Mr. Hidaka…?” Asumu asks again and that’s when Hitoshi realizes he’s been staring off into space.

His eyes meet with Asumu’s, looking at him rather than through him now and he nods. “Sorry, sorry. What’s up?”

“You met with my mother the other day, right?” Hands resting on his knees, Asumu sways a little to the side. “Did she say anything to you?”

”He said to give you a hard time.”

Her “message” from Kabuki was the key thing Hitoshi remembered. Not that he could answer that. After Ikuko had woken up, she had mistaken everything between getting out of her car and that very moment to be some kind of elaborate dream. On top of that, she had still been too out of it for them to talk for very long. Asumu’s case had been discussed only a little before Hitoshi assured her that he would do his best to help Asumu before sending her on her way.

“Mmm… she’s worried about you is the big thing.” Hitoshi says as he leans back. “Boy, I don’t think you should feel as if you need to protect anyone when it comes to your wellbeing. You should really tell us who has been picking on you.”

“It’s not about that.” Asumu raises his hands in defense and then looks down. “I think… when the band picks up with competitive stuff again, I’ll be too busy to have to worry about that. But that’s… Mom said something weird when she said she met with you.”

Hitoshi swallows. “Which was?”

“She said she fell asleep while meeting with you and had a weird dream.” Asumu doesn’t need to finish his thought. Hitoshi knows exactly where it’s going, but he lets the kid go on. Anything less would be a dead giveaway. “She said she saw a guy who looked just like you, but kind of different. Like some kind of oni. Normally I would think she was weird, but Akira said she saw the same thing when that thing happened last month.”

“Must be a common hallucination!” Hitoshi laughs it off which only makes the kid tilt his head. “A complete coincidence!”

“Right…” Asumu doesn’t sound convinced at all. He swings his legs under the chair a few times before standing. “Maybe… maybe it is just a dream. I guess it’s weird to say, but being some kind of magic oni guy that saves people sounds like something you would do, Mr. Hidaka.”

“Are you saying you think I’m cool?” There is an expectant bright smile on Hitoshi’s face as he asks.

“More weird than cool.” Asumu laughs, “But I think meeting someone like whoever that Treble Magus guy Akira mentioned was would be amazing.”

/////

That morning Iori had written a note for Hitoshi’s lunch.

”Spending the day in Yoshino, will return late evening- Dinner is still at 7”

He knew signing it was pointless, Hitoshi knew who made him his lunches.

After gathering together a couple stacks of papers in the guest room, Iori traced a magic circle sizable enough to walk through to Yoshino. It’d been his first time there in ages it felt, he’d been sending familiars thus far to deliver what had gone from daily to weekly apprenticeship logs to his father.

Personally, he dreaded reporting to Michibiki. Especially in regards to Hitoshi doing a purification on his own in the school building where he worked, someone had to have seen him. Of course, the report he made Hitoshi write out (and then re-transcribed himself once he saw how messily it had been written) was sparse with the details.

Ms. Adachi Ikuko entered Hitoshi’s office, likely the school in general, already corrupted. Clearly, she had encountered Kabuki as she had mentioned his name, but was too zoned out to recall whatever message it was he intended her to deliver. She had been lethargic, unmotivated, and easy to purify. Ms. Adachi Ikuko perceived the entire event to be a dream.

Iori felt like there was something off about Hitoshi. The older man made the situation sound much too simple, especially when he had come home so late that night. It worried Iori, but as Iori approached the Executive’s office, he pocketed it away. Michibiki was wholly intuitive, he’d know if something was bothering Iori. He didn’t want that to jeopardize keeping Hitoshi on as his apprentice.

“Treble Magus Ibuki, reporting.” Iori says with a bow as he enters his father’s office.

Michibiki is seated at his desk, like usual. In one hand is a packet of papers that he has already half skimmed through, in the other a cup of coffee. “Come in, take a seat.”

Quietly, Iori does so. He holds the apprenticeship log and Adachi Ikuko incident report in his hands, half-offered, but Michibiki doesn’t look up to accept them. Instead, he continues to read through whatever it was he was in the middle of. Taking a sip of his coffee, his eyes sweep across the bottom of the page before he dogears it and places it on the desk.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Ibuki?” Michibiki finally asks. His tone is light.

Offering over the reports, Iori swallows and nods. “I wanted to turn these over in person. We had a bit of a situation.”

“Mmm…” Is all Michibiki says as he takes the reports.

“The top is this week’s apprenticeship log, Treble Magus Hibiki has made a lot of really good progress in combative spells!” Iori begins to explain, flustered and quick. “The bottom-!”

“Iori, I can read.” Michibiki cuts him off, already paging through the report. More like he skims through the apprenticeship log with disinterest and immediately turns to the Adachi Ikuko report to comb through it closely.

“Right… sorry.”

It’s quiet and feels like forever as Michibiki reads. Iori feels nervous, time shouldn’t be moving so slow for what was honestly a two page report. He hadn’t fluffed up Hitoshi’s report, he only transcribed and reformatted it. No matter what, it was brief.

However, Michibiki takes his time and when he’s seemed to have finished it, he glances over it again. “So I see your apprentice has been acting on his own.”

“My apologies.” Iori bows his head. “I thought tailing him in his normal life was unnecessary and invasive. I had hoped he’d call me if something came up. It was wrong to assume and I accept full responsibility.”

Setting the report on his desk, Michibiki frowns. “Pick your head up.”

“Sorry.” Iori does so, looking up to his father. The Executive’s expression is softer than he thought it’d be. He thought that he’d be met with a scolding, losing his apprentice, something a lot harsher than the fatherly look he was receiving.

Clearing his throat, Michibiki folds his hands together. “Iori, you’ve been doing a fine job.”

“Eh?” The praise surprises him. “…Really?”

“I’ll admit, I didn’t think it was a good idea to let you take on training a new Beat Magus so soon, but you’ve been diligent and responsible. Every log you’ve sent me has documented significant progress to the extent that I’ve already asked you to downsize the frequency of your reports.” Michibiki nods. “Treble Magus Hibiki has an impressive aptitude and natural ability to pick up on things quickly, but he would have had none of the skills needed to respond to an emergency like this one had you never instructed him to begin with.”

Letting it sink in, Iori blinks a few times to digest his father’s words before speaking. “You’re… you’re not angry?”

“Angry, no. Disappointed? A little.” Michibiki admits. He picks up his coffee to sip at it and continues. “Fortunately, it was a minor incident and a non-hostile corruption. Bass Magus Kabuki not appearing is a relief, but equally concerning. Please keep a closer eye on that moving forward.”

“Right.” Iori nods his head and frowns. “Speaking of Kabuki, there is actually another reason I came by.”

Placing the mug back onto the desk, Michibiki returns to his demeanor as the Executive Magus. Iori instantly feels himself sit up straighter at his father’s stern expression.

“What made him corrupt?” Iori asks. “I don’t know anything about it, it happened while I was at the Paris Conservatory all those years.”

Picking up the packet he was reading before, Michibiki opens back up to where he left off. “Rather than tell you here, there are documents regarding the corruption of Kabuki in the basement archives. Why don’t you go down and read up on it yourself?”

“Ah…” Iori hadn’t considered checking the archives himself. Then again, he hadn’t ever thought he’d be doing anything he was currently doing. Standing, he begins to bow to excuse himself. “I’ll take the chance now that I’m here to do that then.”

Just as Iori turns to leave, Michibiki clears his throat. “Just one more thing.”

“Hmm?” Iori looks back to see his father handing him an envelope.

“From your mother.” He says without glancing up, but there is a slight smile on his lips as he says it.

Iori’s face lights up at the mention of his mother. He eagerly accepts the letter and excuses himself.

/////

“So your girlfriend is out on a business trip?” Midori asks jokingly in the midst of Hibiki’s training. She’s settled on a blanket on the edge of the clearing, her music score tucked away into her bag for her to struggle with later.

Several bird familiars descend upon Hibiki, swiftly dodging a barrage of fire balls that he flicks from his taiko sticks. He takes a pause to wipe some sweat from his brow and frowns.

“He’s not my girlfriend.”

“Even though he packs you lunches with little notes? I know you save those by the way.” Midori laughs and digs through her bag for a chocolate bar. No matter how sneaky Hitoshi tried to be at work, she could still see him obviously slip the few notes he had gotten into the top drawer of his desk. Silly considering they all just told him to be home for dinner.

“Because they’re cute.” Hibiki deflects one of the familiars with a grunt, another attempts to blindside him, but he is able to smack that to the side as well. The bird rebounds from the hit with ease and swings around to attack him again.

So long as he’s able to continue making conversation with her, Midori isn’t necessarily worried. However, she’s not blind. She sees his movements growing sloppy and sluggish. Hibiki is getting tired as he trains, more so than she’s used to seeing. While the determination he’s had lately is admirable, she can see he’s burning himself out.

“Oh~?” she says smugly, “So do you think he’s cute~?”

“Of course I do, but he’s not,” There is a pause as he dodges a cluster of birds that try to catch him in a pincer maneuver. “my girlfriend.”

“Well I wouldn’t expect him to be, he’s a guy.” Midori takes a bite from her chocolate bar, resting her chin in her hand as she chews. She can hear Hibiki groan and laughs. Fishing into her bag, she holds up a bottle of water and waves it around until it catches his eye. “Hey, why don’t you take a break?”

Hibiki smiles, but shakes his head. “It’s getting late, I’ll take a break when I’m done.”

He continues to train.

/////

The excitement of reading his mother’s letter is overflowing, but Iori chooses to tuck it away into the inner pocket of his jacket. No matter how eager he was to read what she had written to him, researching Bass Magus Kabuki had to take priority.

The Conservatory’s archives were located in a lower floor just a few levels above the training center. To anyone from the outside, stumbling upon this room would have been like finding a small library. Lined entirely with shelves that stretched from floor to ceiling and filled with a labyrinth of files and reports, looking for Kabuki’s file seemed daunting.

Thankfully for Iori, the Takeshi’s archives used a system similar to the one at the Paris Conservatory. Most of what lined the outer walls were general histories on the Magnifique and the Beat Magi. Shelves that filled the center of the room currently contained profiles on specific Beat Magi dating back several centuries. The key difference between the collection here and the collection back in Paris was the focus. Only Takeshi Beat Magi profiles were stored in this branch. Copies of these records as well records for all other Beat Magi were housed at the main Conservatory.

In the back of the room, there was a dark wooden door that led to another area of the archives that contained rolling stack shelving units that were used to house any and all incident reports, including copies of ones that pertained to Beat Magi corruptions and purifications.

Iori wouldn’t need to go back there today. Kabuki’s records were stored neatly in one of the center shelves. There had only been one other Kabuki aside from the current Bass Magus, his record indicating an activity period of the early 1600s. Choosing the open-ended bound file for the currently active Magus, Iori finds himself a desk to seat himself at and opens it up.

Kabuki’s photograph greets him on the first page. It was clearly taken some time during his apprenticeship, his smile cocky, but hopeful. Even in his Magus form, the picture of such pasted directly beside that of his civilian form, he lacks the playfully sadistic air he had from their encounter. His face isn’t half covered by a mask as he is now. His eyes, albeit still heterochromatic in Magus form, are not as cutting and cold.

Koda Katsutoshi – Treble Magus Kabuki

Even reading his name like such is strange. Kabuki had never been a name that cropped up on his radar until the “Bass Magus” distinction had been tacked onto it. Part of it was because Iori was too young and naïve to latch onto knowing which of the other Magi were which, the other part was his lengthy study abroad. By the time Iori was dipping his toes into properly studying to be a Beat Magus with the Paris Conservatory, Kabuki had already completed his course in Yoshino.

Iori had only intended to skim some of the earlier records and logs before getting to the corruption report, but something sucked him in. Carefully reading through page after page written by the other Magus, the person laid out on the pages seemed nothing like the one he had met. Kabuki- no, Katsutoshi’s written records projected someone who was cheerful and kind.

Announcing my presence under cherry blossom confetti seemed to calm the children down. The corrupted individual, assumed to be their mother, was in heavy distress and violent. Using the cover of my spell, I performed a dance for the children and presented the purification as a magic show.

By the way, dodging someone trying to strangle me while acting like it’s a stage show for a bunch of grade schoolers is really hard. I want the Executive Magus to really consider that the next time I get sent to one of these things alone.

Purification was enacted behind the use of my parasol, intended to shield the children from seeing the katana. All children were unharmed, and my Reflector detected zero abnormalities within a 5 mile radius indicating no further corruptions spawned from this incident. You’ll be happy to know that the corrupted is now recovering, and I received much applause for my performance.

Iori had to admit, he didn’t expect Kabuki’s recordkeeping to be so prideful. There were instances of cockiness, but they were well-balanced by a gentle personality and a sense of duty. Kabuki had been there to help people, and he clearly loved doing it. He loved to smile and make smiles, and as Iori realized, was willing to break the Magnifique’s decrees to accomplish that.

Sifting through more of Kabuki’s self-written reports and logs, he noticed a pattern.

Kabuki willfully exposing his identity as a Beat Magus to civilians not involved with the Magnifique. In most cases, it was to children with the excuse of circumventing the Magnifique’s rule as most adults wouldn’t believe something so outlandish from the mouth of a child. Kabuki was honest in all of his writings. If he revealed himself as Beat Magus, he explicitly said so in his logs. It almost seemed like he was trying to prove a point, that the old decree was outdated and that keeping something so harmful a secret would hurt too many people.

Disciplinary records usually followed these accounts. These Iori recognized as being penned in his father’s handwriting. Punishments included brief retrainings, instances in which he was partnered under the watch of other Beat Magi while handling purifications, and being temporarily relieved of purification duties. None of them seemed to do the trick.

Turning through what became less of Kabuki’s writing and more of Michibiki’s, the disciplinaries devolved into something else entirely until Iori found himself in the middle of a report filed by the Executive Magus.

September 3, 20XX – Case of mass corruption in Ikebukuro, Toshima, Tokyo.

Treble Magus Kabuki was reinstated to purification duties per demand as result of a 47 person corruption in Ikebukuro Station. Treble Magus Kabuki was dispatched alongside Treble Magi Nishiki, Kirameki, Habataki, Sabaki, and Fubuki.

All six Treble Magi entered the scene in civilian garb to avoid suspicion per Magnifique Code V1.C3 (Decree of Confidentiality, attached). When instructed to aid in evacuation of non-corrupted individuals, reports from Nishiki, Sabaki, and Fubuki indicate that Kabuki activated his Magus form to begin purifications.

Same reports from the three aforementioned Treble Magi indicate Treble Magus Kabuki engaging in armed combat with corrupted while attempting civilian evacuation in a large crowd, resulting in injury of several civilians which required medical attention. As a result, Treble Magi Nishiki, Habataki, and Sabaki were tasked with the completion of civilian evacuation amidst Treble Magus Kabuki’s engagement with the corrupted.

Treble Magi Habataki and Fubuki reported escaping to a discreet area to transform and perform purification from a distance, a highly dangerous task that requires pinpoint precision when done in the midst of a large crowd still containing uncorrupted individuals.

When purifications were completed, Treble Magi Nishiki, Kirameki, Habataki, Sabaki, and Fubuki all report Treble Magus Kabuki sheathing his blade in front of civilians and performing a dance, openly exhibiting his magic through the use of tricks and illusions in what was seemed to be an effort to cheer up the civilians.

Report from Treble Magus Fubuki indicates that Treble Magus Kabuki was met with upset from the remaining civilians, likely linked back to the injuries caused amidst his initial entry into the situation. When approached by Treble Magus Fubuki in her civilian attire, Treble Magus Kabuki was described as disheartened and irate at the reception.

Treble Magus Fubuki states that she tried to calm Treble Magus Kabuki down and attempted to remove him from the scene. Treble Magus Kabuki reportedly claimed he felt “betrayed” by the people he worked hard to save, and when receiving further prompting to leave the scene by Treble Magus Fubuki remarked “I will not let them discipline me again. If they’re that frightened of me, then I will give them something to be frightened of.”

All five Treble Magi on scene report Treble Magus Kabuki drawing his blade and plunging it through his Reflector before collapsing to the ground, drawing a warp gate and vanishing.

Observation of his magic circle during crafting of the gate indicated the presence of Minor Magicks and confirmed proof of forced corruption.

As of today’s date: September 3, 20XX – I, Executive Magus Michibiki of the Organisation de la Musique Magnifique’s Takeshi branch sign off on confirmation of corruption and title change for the Beat Magus assigned under the name Kabuki.

Upon redesignation as validated by my signature, Bass Magus Kabuki is hereby excommunicated from the Magnifique.

Treble Magus Michibiki

Executive Magus, Takeshi, Organisation de la Musique Magnifique

Flipping one page further, Iori opens up to his own report from just a month ago and furrows his brow.

Kabuki had been absent from Magnifique records for years between his corruption and present time. There was a lot for him to unpack with this case, resting his head in his hands as he thinks. Previous records indicated that Kabuki wasn’t a bad guy. His instance in Ikebukuro Station was him trying to prove something, and Iori was sure Michibiki could see it. However, rules were rules.

But Iori had gone and read Kabuki’s own words. He had read about how the other would play with the children that he worried were going to be traumatized from seeing a corruption. He had read about the formerly corrupted that Kabuki stuck around to check up on and ensure were doing well. This Ikebukuro instance seemed bizarre, it seemed like the breaking point of something that had had been pressed at by years of discipline from the Executive chair.

Kabuki said he felt betrayed. Iori could only imagine that the emotions that prompted Kabuki to Reflect in the first place were his cheerfulness, his kind heart, and his trust.

Maybe, Iori thinks, he’s been spending too much time with Hitoshi. Because for the first time he wonders ”wouldn’t it be better if we could save Kabuki?”.

Purification as Iori knew it would wipe out every emotion that made Kabuki the Bass Magus that he is now, but also erase the Treble Magus he had been before.

Not that Iori gets much more time to ponder that thought as his cellphone rings, echoing through the archives, and startling him. He’s quick to answer without checking the caller ID, just so that the ringing stops.

“Iori?” Kasumi’s voice sounds panicked on the other end and immediately he can tell it’s something bad. “Iori, where are you?”

“Yoshino’s archives. Did something happen?” Iori quickly closes the file, hurrying to tuck it back onto the shelf he got it from. He isn’t giving Kasumi a chance to finish as he already starts to draw the magic circle that is intended to take him back to the sweet shop.

“We got a call from someone named Midori.” Kasumi pauses, and Iori can hear her take a deep breath to try and settle herself out of her panic. “It’s about Hitoshi. He’s collapsed.”