Chapter Text
Summer was drawing closer, and the spring breeze was gradually giving way to the suffocating midday heat.
Cid sat at the back of the classroom in Section Seven, lazily propping his cheek on his hand and staring out the window. After his former instructor Zenon had abruptly vanished and half the students scattered in a panic, Cid had been transferred here along with Skel and Po. New section, new teacher — same old problems. Only now there was one more, considerably larger headache on top of them all.
Claire's words were still circling in his head: Blind dates… this weekend… I will dig you out from underground.
Cid let out a quiet sigh, feeling his perfectly calibrated years-in-the-making life as a plain, invisible mob beginning to spiral into the gutter. He needed to figure something out — urgently. If he didn't find a girl willing to play along and pretend to be his fiancée, Claire was going to drag him to meetings with some aggressive count's daughter who would turn his room into a branch office of a training camp.
"Hey, Cid, why the long face? Still moping over the princess?" Skel, sitting in front of him, spun around and slapped his palm on the desk without ceremony.
"No, I told you — we broke up and everything's fine," Cid said on autopilot, not even shifting his drowsy expression.
"That sucks. Did you at least kiss her once?" Po chimed in.
"Nope. Everything's fine."
If you don't count the moment her sword kissed my cheek. But that doesn't count.
"Oh, come on!" Po said, turning from the neighboring row. "Everyone knows she dumped you. But don't sweat it — the Bushin Festival is coming up. Skel and I already signed up for the qualifiers. Once we show what we're made of, girls will be lining up for us. I swear, I'm going to land at least three."
Cid listened to them while his mind worked in parallel on his own problem. Operation False Wedding Veil — working title for now — was going to require careful planning.
All right. Criteria for the ideal fake fiancée. First: she has to be from the real world, not from Shadow Garden. Actors shouldn't play two roles at once — it violates professional ethics. Second: she cannot know my secret. Third: she has to be convincing enough to get Claire off my back. Fourth: she has to be so preoccupied with her own life that she won't poke around in mine.
Current list of candidates: empty. Completely.
"Yeah, dream on," Cid straightened his uniform collar and rejoined the conversation. "I'm not going to participate. A run-of-the-mill background character like me only embarrasses himself at tournaments like that." And besides, if he competed, it would only help Claire find him a fiancée.
"Not to worry — I already signed you up! You can start thanking me now— gkh—!"
Skel never finished the sentence.
He abruptly cut off, his eyes went wide, he grabbed his stomach with both hands, and hit the floor between the desks with a dull thud.
"Sk-e-e-el?! Man, what happened?!" Po yelped, leaping from his seat.
Cid calmly unclenched his right fist, which had moved at supersonic speed, completely invisible to everyone around him.
"Hey! Hey, Skel! Did you see that? It looked like someone nailed you with a hook right in the gut. You okay?" Cid asked, leaning over his fallen friend and performing a look of genuine concern.
"S-spot on, Cid…" Skel wheezed, rolling on the floor and gasping for air.
"You look rough, man," Po said, going pale at the sight. "One more second and you'd have been done for. Cid, help me carry him to the nurse."
The new instructor who had just entered the classroom waved a hand, giving them permission to leave. Cid and Po hauled Skel up by the arms and dragged him through the Academy hallways. Skel shuffled his feet weakly, and the pain had even drawn a faint foam to his lips.
He's foaming at the mouth. I may have overdone it. But he signed me up for the tournament. Tournament means attention. Attention means brides. Brides means Claire. Claire means the end of my life as the Eminence in Shadow. So consider this a preemptive strike, Skel.
As they dragged him past the large windows overlooking the courtyard, Cid happened to glance toward the main gate and froze. A group of people in formal knight uniforms was just entering the campus. At the front walked a tall, dignified girl with fiery red hair — Princess Iris. And slightly behind her, Alexia.
Iris Midgar. The first princess. Beautiful, strong, impeccable reputation. From a bride-search perspective — maximally unsuitable. First, she draws way too much attention. Second, if I marry Iris, Alexia becomes my sister-in-law and will try to kill me over breakfast. Third, she's a princess and I'm a mob. Claire dreams of a good match, but even she isn't that unhinged. Although… knowing Claire, I wouldn't be so sure. Scratching Iris off the list, just in case.
At some point, Alexia looked up and met Cid's gaze through the window for exactly one second. Alexia immediately narrowed her eyes with contempt, gave a haughty sniff, and sharply looked away, continuing after her sister.
Alexia is also scratched. She already tried to kill me. Suggesting we pretend to be a couple again would be suicide. Even for me.
"By the way, I heard Princess Iris is assembling a new army," Po said quietly, glancing toward the street. You wouldn't think it to look at him, but this guy always knows every piece of news.
"Hm, noted," Cid muttered.
They quickly dropped Skel off at the infirmary, handed him over to a grumbling nurse, and without exchanging a word, wisely bolted for the Academy exit, deciding to simply skip the rest of their classes. Po ran off somewhere on his own business, and Cid walked slowly along the park path, racking his brain for where he was supposed to find a fake fiancée.
All right. Let's recap the morning. Candidate number one: Iris Midgar. Status — eliminated. Reason: princess, draws attention, comes packaged with Alexia. Candidate number two: Alexia Midgar. Status — eliminated. Reason: attempted murder, personality, everything else. Current score: zero to two in favor of staying single forever.
But that's fine. Operation False Wedding Veil has only just begun. I need to find someone. Anyone. As long as she's quiet, inconspicuous, and doesn't try to kill me.
…That sounds like a description of an corpse, not a ideal fiancée. Well. I'll work with what I've got.
That evening, after waiting for classes to end, Cid went to have his name removed from the tournament roster.
"Thank you," he bowed and walked out of the student council office with a blank face.
"Well? How'd it go?" Skel and Po were waiting outside.
"They said all the pairs are already set, and the entry can't be cancelled," Cid sighed.
"Hey, look at the bright side! If you show yourself well at the tournament, you'll have girls throwing themselves at you!"
"Exactly! Tough trials bring great opportunities!"
Girls throwing themselves at me. That's the last thing I need right now. I already HAVE girls throwing themselves at me — my sister organized it. And it's not throwing, it's a tidal wave. A tsunami of brides. I don't need more — I need to get rid of the ones that don't even exist yet.
"I don't care if I win or lose. I just don't want to be part of this stupid tournament."
"God, you're hopeless. Come on, let me show you a special little shop," Skel smiled slyly. "'Mitsugoshi.' The hottest store right now. I heard everyone's going crazy over their new stuff, especially some snack called 'chocolate.' They say it's sweet and disgustingly good."
"A snack? Mm, I could go for something tasty," Po perked up.
"Idiot! It's not for you!" Skel smacked Po on the head. "We're giving the chocolate to girls. Any girl will melt if you give her something sweet!"
"Oh-h, I get it! Skel, you're a genius!"
Chocolate. Interesting. If I give Claire a box, maybe she'll soften up and postpone her matchmaking operation?… No. She'll eat the chocolate and continue the search with twice the energy. Sugar will only fuel her. Better to give the chocolate to a potential candidate — test her reaction at the same time. If the girl is indifferent to sweets, she's indifferent to everything. Ideal wife material.
"Fine, I'll come."
Skel led them to the capital's main street. Mitsugoshi turned out to be a massive, stylish building that reminded Cid of the skyscrapers from his past life. The queue stretched from the very entrance — at least an eighty-minute wait.
So many potential mob-wife candidates. There are probably noblewomen in there too. Although… no, not an option. It's like betting on zero in roulette — practically no chance of winning. Especially with my luck.
"We're going to wait an hour and a half!" Cid wailed.
"Stop whining!" Skel waved him off.
While Skel and Po were trying to play the part of 'Dark Knights' and rambling about cutthroats, Cid caught fragments of their words out of the corner of his ear.
'Killers in the night? People pretending to be Shadow Garden?'
The pieces clicked into place immediately: what if the imposters are the key? Find someone connected to these killers but not a killer herself… She might be so frightened that she'd agree to a fake marriage for the sake of protection? A 'phantom fiancée' as cover for a protected witness — that sounded considerably more dignified than just 'a decoy nobody.'
"G-good evening, m-m-miss. You are so b-beautiful. H-how are you?"
Cid's train of thought was interrupted by Skel's voice.
The girl rewarded him with a battle-hardened smile, then suddenly shifted her gaze to Cid.
She chose me? Something flickered inside him. Is his mob disguise really that poor? Although — wait. Could this be a sign? A modest shop employee, far removed from intrigues, princesses, and assassinations. She's the ideal candidate. She even looks like someone who won't ask why my sword is made from a chunk of iron instead of steel.
"I-I-I want to take the survey too!" Skel hollered.
"Yes, me too!" Po added.
"One customer will be sufficient," the girl replied, and took Cid by the arm.
They walked past the enormous queue and entered the store directly. Cid glanced back and caught Skel and Po's disappointed, wounded expressions.
Sorry, guys. But chocolate takes priority. It might work as a bribe for Claire.
The inside of the store was extraordinarily lavish. Chocolate, coffee, cosmetics, soap, clothing — all in a modern, polished design. Cid immediately noticed that every detail of the interior had been thought through, as if… as if…
Holy shit — it's a shopping mall!
Cid looked around in stunned disbelief. Clothing stores. Food courts. Escalators — even the godforsaken benches outside women's clothing shops for the poor men dragged in against their will.
A shudder ran down Cid's spine. He still remembered the vacant, defeated eyes of his father back on Earth, and the eyes of all those other men waiting helplessly outside clothing shops for their girlfriends and wives. And that could become his fate, if Operation False Wedding Veil failed.
The girl led him through the main floor to a door marked STAFF ONLY. Behind it was a grand staircase. At the top — a bright, spacious corridor.
Where is she taking me? This doesn't look like a standard survey. Standard surveys are conducted on the shop floor, not in staff areas. If I weren't Shadow, I'd probably start getting nervous. But I am Shadow. And Shadow doesn't get nervous. Shadow observes.
At the end of the hall — a massive door, decorated with engravings. Two girls at the doors bowed and pulled them open.
Okay, this is nothing like a survey. This looks like… a throne room? Have I been found out? No — I've been playing the mob perfectly. Maybe this is some kind of prank?
Cid stepped over the threshold — and the breath caught in his throat.
A vast hall with tall columns, marble floors shimmering under the lamplight. Through a skylight in the ceiling poured the deep crimson light of the sunset. From the door, a long red carpet stretched the full length of the room, with beautiful girls standing in two rows along either side.
The moment Cid entered, they all sank to their knees simultaneously.
What. Is. This.
Is this a throne room? An actual throne room? With columns? With a red carpet? With kneeling beauties? WHO ORGANIZED ALL OF THIS?
At the far end of the hall stood an enormous chair. Beside it — a beautiful elf with hair as blue as a clear sky. Slender, in a form-fitting black dress.
Gamma.
GAMMA?
My childhood friend Gamma? The same Gamma who trips over her own feet and cries whenever she loses to Delta? She runs Mitsugoshi? She built all of this?
Thoughts swept through Cid's mind like a whirlwind. Chocolate. Coffee. Cosmetics. The store's design. The business model. All these products — they came from his stories, from the Shadow Wisdom he had shared with Gamma in childhood. She hadn't just listened. She had remembered. And she had recreated all of it in reality.
She used my stories to build a business empire? That's the difference in intellect right there — she took the scattered facts and half-formed ideas I vaguely tossed out as a child and turned them into this. A true genius.
"We have awaited you for so long, my Lord," Gamma said, and sank to one knee with the grace of a lady.
Cid automatically engaged Eminence in Shadow mode. Face — stone. Gaze — piercing. Posture — commanding.
She prepared all of this for me. For our game. We haven't seen each other in years, and all this time she was building an empire so that one day I could walk into this hall as a true Eminence in Shadow. Gamma… you are a remarkable friend.
But you also spent an absolute fortune on this. I hope you still have savings for retirement.
Gamma began approaching with the fluid gait of a runway model. Her hips swayed enticingly, and beneath the form-fitting dress—
SMACK!
She caught her foot and went face-first into the floor.
"Th-these heels are too high," she mumbled, rubbing her bruised nose.
…And she's still the same Gamma. Despite the business empire, despite the army of staff, despite the throne room — she still trips on a flat floor. That's reassuring. It means she hasn't become someone else.
The girls became a blur of motion, producing a new, lower pair of shoes.
"S-so, where were we… I'm so glad, my Lord," Gamma continued as if nothing had happened.
Cid pretended he'd noticed nothing. That had been the rule since childhood: when Gamma falls, you either pretend you didn't see it, or you tease her mercilessly. Cid had always belonged to the first camp. Though internally: Hold it together, Cid. Do not laugh. She's your friend, not a circus performer. Although… that bit was pretty good.
But one thing still had to be said:
"You have a nosebleed."
The girls scrambled again in search of a handkerchief.
"My sincerest apologies, my Lord!" Gamma sprang upright, having swapped into more stable shoes, and reassumed her 'woman of mystery' pose. "That was… a technical malfunction in the stabilization system. This way, to the throne."
The throne was enormous. Golden. And judging by its apparent weight, carved from a single solid block of very expensive pomposity. Cid settled into it, trying to look as commanding as possible, though only one thought gnawed at him: How much did all of this cost? While I was being a sadistic princess's lapdog for pocket change, they've clearly been doing just fine.
"Receive your reward!…"
A beam of magical energy shot toward the ceiling, burst into a cascade of fireworks, and split into a myriad of lights that flooded the entire room in purple. Streams of energy rained down on the kneeling girls.
They trembled. Some wept.
Excellent performance. Gamma has trained her troupe to perfection. Even I would believe it, if I didn't know it was staged.
"I will remember this day for the rest of my life," Gamma said in a trembling voice, dropping to her knees before him. Tears ran down her cheeks.
She's crying. From dedication. Gamma was always emotional. As a child she'd sob every time she lost to Delta. 'I'll never be strong,' she'd say. And I'd answer: 'You have a mind. Use it.' And she did. Now she runs an entire business empire. Look at that.
"You've done magnificent work, Gamma. I have a question, by the way, regarding this shop."
"You may ask me anything."
"All the goods in Mitsugoshi… were they drawn from my Shadow Wisdom?"
"Yes, my Lord. I merely recreated a fragment of the divine knowledge you passed on to me."
Just as I thought.
"Do Alpha and the others know about this?"
"Of course."
"And how much have you earned so far?"
"We now have shops in every major city domestically and abroad. The business is growing rapidly. But… the last time I checked, we had earned one billion."
One billion… ONE BILLION?! A WHOLE BILLION?! I suspected they weren't struggling, but THAT much?!
Cid's eyes went wide, though he fought to keep it off his face.
"My Lord?…" But he couldn't hide it from Gamma. "Are you… disappointed?"
Gamma, always taking everything to heart.
"No. Not at all." Better not to upset Gamma. "Hm, I hope you don't mind me asking this of you — but could you lend me a few zeni?"
"Yes, I'll have everything prepared at once!"
Gamma gave her orders, and within a couple of minutes a cart bearing a mountain of coins was wheeled into the room. Cid had never seen so much money in one place in his life.
I'd wager not every high-ranking noble house has this much in their coffers.
"This is too much…"
"…Too little? I'll send for a second cart at once—"
"No, stop, this is plenty."
Cid extended his hand toward the coins and began his performance. All eyes were fixed on his right hand. Slowly, theatrically, he picked up fifteen coins with his right palm and placed them in his right pocket.
"For now… this should be sufficient."
And in that moment, Cid's left hand — at supersonic speed — slipped one more coin into his left pocket. No one noticed.
For operational expenses. And possibly to persuade a candidate. Although — no, bribing a fiancée sounds too criminal. Even for me. Though I have to admit, it does have a certain ring to it.
"That's all? You may take all the money—"
"For now, this should be sufficient," Cid replied gravely, struggling to keep a straight face.
Gamma clapped her hands, and the crowd of girls wheeled the cart out of the hall. Then she sank before him on one knee again.
"My Lord, I believe I know why you came today. It must be about the incident?"
"Yes," Cid nodded with confidence.
What incident? What is she talking about?
"We are deeply sorry. We are investigating the matter, but we haven't identified the culprit yet. Please bear with us a little longer. I will hunt down these killers operating in the capital… those fools in black who dared to impersonate Shadow Garden."
"Hm…"
Killers? Impersonating Shadow Garden? This is the first I'm hearing of it. But it sounds serious. Someone is copying our 'organization.' On one hand — flattering. On the other — outrageous. We have intellectual property rights!
"I understand. This is quite interesting. I believe I already know who the culprit is. I'll conduct my own investigation."
I have absolutely no idea who the culprit is. But 'I'll conduct my own investigation' sounds impressive. The Eminence in Shadow always knows more than he lets on.
Gamma looked at him with adoration. Fresh tears traced down her cheeks.
"Nu! Come forward!"
The very same brunette who had brought Cid in stepped forward and dropped to one knee.
"My Lord, this is Nu. She is number thirteen. Please, use her as your liaison and personal assistant."
"I am Nu. A pleasure to meet you," her voice trembled faintly.
Cid fixed her with a penetrating gaze, as though trying to look into the very depths of her soul. Nu trembled harder.
All right. So Nu is one of the performers. She's not one of the Seven — she's new. Gamma hired her to play the role of liaison. Although she's laying the trembling on a little thick.
Speaking of candidates — Nu is an actress. Automatically eliminated. Rule number one: don't mix work and personal life. Actors shouldn't marry the director. It violates professional ethics. And besides, if Claire finds out my fiancée works at Mitsugoshi, she'll make me ask for a family discount. That's undignified.
"I'll call on you when I need your assistance."
"Yes, my Lord," Nu bowed and stepped back.
"I should be going," Cid rose. "Oh, I nearly forgot. I'd like to buy some chocolate… the most affordable kind, preferably. And it would be wonderful if you could give me a small friends-and-family discount."
"We have prepared our finest chocolate for you."
"And… how much will that be?"
"With the friends-and-family coupon, you receive a one hundred percent discount."
"One hundred percent… that's freea!Yes! Today is my lucky day! In that case, I'll take four boxes!"
Cid caught himself and realized he'd broken character. He cleared his throat. Reassembled the stone face. Gamma's put together such a good production here — can't go and ruin it. Be the Eminence in Shadow.
But more importantly — free chocolate! Four boxes! One for Claire as a strategic distraction. A second for any candidate I happen to encounter. The third and fourth — leverage for Skel and Po.
Gamma allowed herself a slight smile, watching him transform back into an ordinary schoolboy. Even if she knew it was only his acting.
"Damn it, we're not going to make curfew!" Po was panicking.
"All because Cid moves like a glacier!" Skel echoed, picking up the pace.
"I already apologized! And besides, I got you chocolate!"
The three of them were racing through the main streets of the night-time capital. Skel and Po ran ahead, talking over each other about girls and chocolate. Cid's thoughts were elsewhere.
Shadow Garden, imposters, killings… This is an absolute affront to my production! If these cosplayers start blundering around, kill someone off-script, or God forbid pull a Gamma-level disaster — people will decide the Eminence in Shadow is a ridiculous amateur. I can't allow that kind of disgrace to our name… although — what if there's a woman among these imposters?
…No. I will not consider a killer as a bride candidate. I have standards. Low ones, but they exist.
Suddenly Cid heard the clash of steel. He stopped dead.
"Hey, what are you doing?"
"We're going to be late!"
Cid pointed down a dark alley with the most stricken expression he could muster.
"I urgently need to deposit a personal package! If I don't take a dump right now, it's going to run down my legs mid-sprint. I'll be the first mob in history to die of intestinal rupture while jogging."
Skel and Po froze.
"Right here?" Skel whispered, wearing the expression of a man who'd just heard a confession of regicide.
"You're putting your dignity before curfew?!" Po exclaimed.
"Go!" Cid pointed dramatically in the direction of the dormitory. "Save yourselves! I don't want you to see me like this. Get out of here before it starts!"
Skel and Po exchanged a glance. Their eyes held a mixture of horror, compassion, and genuine admiration for his courage.
"Cid…" Skel whispered, clenching his fists. "I will never forget your sacrifice!"
"Even if you turn this alley into an environmental disaster zone, you'll still be a hero to me!" Po added.
"I-I can't hold on anymore. Just go… leave me here!"
"Cid… we will never forget you!"
"Cid… even if you're out here doing this in the street, we're still your friends!"
"Go! Ju-u-u-u-ust go-o-o-o-o!"
They sprinted away like Olympic champions. Cid waited three seconds, straightened up, brushed the dust off his uniform, and strolled into the alley with the unhurried dignity of an aristocrat.
Acting: ten out of ten. Art demands sacrifice, especially when that sacrifice is your own reputation. I just convinced two people I'm going to squat in a back alley. Is this not the pinnacle of the performer's craft? Claire would call it a disgrace. But Claire doesn't understand the art of the mob.
In the heart of the dark, abandoned alley, two dark figures were locked in brutal combat. Alexia — in school uniform, sword in hand — and some figure in a black cloak. His clothes were shredded to ribbons, and blood had stained the ground beneath him.
"Why are you killing innocents?! What are you fighting for?!" Alexia cried.
"We are… Shadow Garden…"
WHAT?! This clown just said 'Shadow Garden'? He's impersonating us! Impersonating OUR production! This is plagiarism! Copyright infringement! I won't stand for this! And on top of everything — where is the gravitas?! Where are the lengthy monologues?! Where are the perfectly draped cloaks?! You didn't even iron your masks, you idiots!
Cid climbed up to the rooftop for a better view. Alexia disarmed the imposter. Victory was nearly in her hands. But then two more figures emerged from the darkness.
Three against one. Alexia is injured. By narrative law, a mysterious savior must appear at this moment. And that savior…
Cid dropped from the roof. His black blade tore through one of the imposters in a single stroke. Blood sprayed in every direction. With a sharp flick he shook the blood from his sword, drawing a long red line across the wall.
"This is what awaits every fool who dares to make a mockery of the Shadow Garden's name…"
"Shadow…" Alexia breathed.
The two remaining imposters exchanged a glance and fled, vaulting onto the rooftop. Their career as cosplayers came to an abrupt end.
"What a shame," Shadow sighed, and moved to give chase.
"Wait! Please!…"
Alexia's voice stopped him. Shadow turned slowly, focusing sharp eyes on her.
"I am Alexia Midgar, second Princess of this Kingdom. What do you want? What do you fight for? Who do you fight against? And… are you a threat to my country?"
Princesses really are something. You're standing there covered in grime, sword shaking in your hand, and she's asking questions like I'm being interrogated at a police station.
"Stay out of it. The less you know, the better you'll sleep."
"Wha—?! Wait! If you're an enemy of this Kingdom, then—!"
"Even if I am — what would you do about it?"
Excellent line. Need to write that down for the Shadow Chronicles. Beta will appreciate it.
Alexia trembled, but did not retreat. She declared that she would fight him to protect her sister.
She'd risk her life for Iris. That's admirable. If she didn't try to kill me, weren't a princess, didn't have that personality, and weren't firmly planted within my sister's field of vision… she still wouldn't be a candidate. Because Alexia Midgar is a walking catastrophe, not an applicant. Final elimination.
"Will you kill me?" asked Shadow — and vanished into the night.
Late that night, Cid sat on his bed and looked at the three boxes of chocolate.
All right. Let's recap the day.
First: Mitsugoshi is Gamma's business. She used the Shadow Wisdom to build a commercial empire. And she's using that empire as a cover for Shadow Garden. This is genius. And I'm proud that my childhood stories inspired her to do all of this.
Second: some idiots are impersonating Shadow Garden and killing people. That needs to be dealt with.
Third…
Candidate №1: Iris Midgar. Status — eliminated. Reason: princess, draws attention, comes packaged with Alexia.
Candidate №2: Alexia Midgar. Status — eliminated. Reason: attempted murder, personality, everything else.
Candidate №3: Gamma. Status — eliminated. Reason: childhood friend. Asking her to pretend to be my wife after all of this… it would be too awkward. And wrong. She's my friend, not a tool for handling the Claire situation.
Candidate №4: Nu. Status — eliminated. Reason: actress. Violation of professional ethics. Actors shouldn't marry the director.
Current score: zero to four in favor of staying single forever.
Cid opened the third box of chocolate and tossed a piece into his mouth.
But that's fine. Operation False Wedding Veil has only just begun. There are still plenty of potential candidates out there for me to eliminate.
In the end… maybe Claire will actually find someone suitable?…
He pictured a crowd of muscular female knights, each determined to test his physical conditioning. Pictured them filling his room, rearranging his things, finding his stashes…
…No. I have to find a fiancée myself. And as quickly as possible. Tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow, the active search begins.
For now — chocolate. Which, incidentally, is delicious. Gamma outdid herself.