The Spring of Yesterday

The scent of cherry blossoms was heavy enough to choke on.

Linnea gasped, sitting bolt upright in the narrow dormitory bed. Her hand flew to her throat, expecting the cold steel of an executioner’s blade or the scorching heat of the Tyrant’s fire. Instead, she felt the rough cotton of a disciple’s collar.

She looked around. The room was small, bathed in the soft, golden light of morning. Through the circular window, she saw it—the impossible view she hadn’t seen in a decade. Floating islands, tethered by massive iron chains, drifted lazily against a backdrop of endless blue. Students in white and azure robes flew between them on swords, trailing ribbons of light.

The Azure Sky Academy.

She was back.

Linnea scrambled out of bed, her legs trembling. She checked the bronze mirror. Her face was rounder, her eyes less haunted. She was seventeen again.

"He's alive," she whispered, the words trembling in the air. "He hasn't fallen yet."

Panic seized her. In her previous life, today was the day it began. The day Kai, the academy’s most brilliant and brittle prodigy, suffered his first true humiliation. It was the crack in his ego that would eventually let the Heart Demon in.

She didn't bother with her hair. She grabbed her training sword and sprinted out the door.

She ran across the chain bridges, the wind whipping her robes. She ignored the confused shouts of the other disciples. She had to reach the Training Grounds.

She arrived just as the crowd was forming.

In the center of the white stone arena stood Kai.

He was breathtaking. He was younger than the monster she remembered, his features sharp and untainted by the dark veins of corruption. He stood with his chin raised, his black hair tied back in a high ponytail, gripping a practice sword with white-knuckled pride.

Opposite him was Senior Brother Feng, a hulking disciple known for his brutality.

"The genius of the Azure Sky," Feng sneered, circling him. "They say your family’s *Thunder-Flash Style* is invincible. But look at you. Your stance is weak. You’re overextending."

Kai’s eyes narrowed. "I don't need advice from a brute."

"Then you need a lesson," Feng growled.

Feng lunged. It was a dirty move, a surge of heavy Earth Qi aimed not at Kai’s chest, but at his knees.

In the original timeline, Kai had tried to block it. His wrist had shattered. The humiliation had festered for years, leading him to seek forbidden power to heal it.

"No," Linnea breathed.

Her body moved on instinct—muscle memory honed by ten years of surviving the apocalypse Kai created.

She leaped over the railing. She didn't run; she glided, utilizing a footwork technique that hadn't been invented yet: *The Phantom Lotus Step*.

Just as Feng’s blade descended, Linnea appeared between them. She didn't block the heavy strike. She deflected it, catching Feng’s blade on the flat of her own and spinning, using his own momentum to throw him.

With a fluid twist of her wrist, she executed the *Thunder-Flash Counter*—a move specific to Kai’s bloodline, but performed with a perfection Kai himself hadn't yet achieved.

Feng crashed into the stone wall, unconscious.

Silence descended on the arena. The cherry blossoms drifted down like snow.

Linnea stood panting, her sword lowered. She slowly turned to face Kai.

He wasn't looking at Feng. He was staring at her. His obsidian eyes were wide, filled with a mixture of shock and something sharper—suspicion.

"You," Kai whispered. He stepped closer, the arrogance momentarily stripped away. "That was the *Thunder-Flash Counter*. But... improved. Refined."

He pointed his sword at her throat. The tip trembled slightly.

"Who are you? And who stole my family’s secrets to teach you that?"

Linnea looked at him, her heart aching. He was so young. So alive. And already so paranoid.

"I’m Linnea," she said, her voice steady. "And I’m here to make sure you don't lose."