Jay sat at his desk in English class, his book open in front of him, but the words on the page blurred into nothing. His mind was elsewhere—two days from now, he'd be fighting in a tournament against Itsuki-sensei's exorcist members.
Itsuki… was that his name?
Jay replayed the scene in his head. After Sensei had been called inside to speak with Detective Carter, the man in the black-and-white kimono had stepped forward, apologizing for the hostility.
"You may call me Itsuki-sensei," the man had said, so no confusion would arise from having two "senseis" in the same place.
Itsuki explained that the Southern Shrine wasn't just a shrine—it was an exorcist school. That was why it was so large, decorated, and filled with so many members. And since their Northern shrine had been destroyed in the last battle, they would train here for a while.
Then came the announcement that burned itself into Jay's memory: in three days, there would be a tournament. Northern Shrine versus Southern Shrine. A battle meant not only for training but also to measure strength.
Itsuki had warned his students not to underestimate the small Northern group. "They fought against two Upper Demons and lived," he reminded them.
That thought rattled Jay. What if I mess up in front of everyone? What if I lose control? What if—
"Mr. Jay Edwards!"
Jay's head snapped up. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest. The voice was sharp, impatient.
"Yes, Mrs. Green," Jay said, rising from his seat.
Mrs. Green stared at him expectantly. The class was dead silent. A few students covered their mouths, smirking.
Jay blinked. "…Yes?"
"Page 86," whispered Luna from the next desk, leaning over just enough for him to hear.
"Page 86," Jay repeated aloud.
Mrs. Green's frown deepened. "No, read page 86."
The classroom erupted in laughter. Jay rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks burning as he sat back down. He muttered, "Thanks for the save," toward Luna. She only gave a small shrug and returned to her book.
But Jay wasn't reading. His mind was already back at the shrine, already imagining the fights to come.
At the police precinct, Lisa Carter stood in the records room surrounded by stacks of old case files. The long table before her was buried in photographs, autopsy reports, and witness statements. She had pulled every case connected to the eye-circle symbol.
There were dozens. Families slaughtered in their homes. Couples shot in their cars. Women alone. Men alone. Even children in one horrific file.
The M.O. always changed—but the signature was the same. The killer always left the eye-circle symbol drawn in blood.
Carter tapped her pen against the table, her brow furrowed. "It doesn't add up," she muttered. "No pattern in the victims. No consistency in location. Just the damn symbol."
Her mind drifted back to the conversation she'd had with Sensei inside the Southern Shrine.
She remembered placing the old photograph on the table, a black-and-white picture of a young man. "This is you," she had said firmly. "Your face—the jawline, the cheeks, the eyes. They're the same."
Sensei hadn't hesitated. He had admitted it immediately.
Next came the photo of a lifeless woman. "This was your wife, Hana," Carter said. "She was murdered by the Zodiac Killer."
Sensei's eyes had lingered on the picture, but his face betrayed nothing. "Why are you showing me this?"
Carter pressed forward. "There were seven Zodiac cases. Five happened fifty-seven years ago. All couples. The fifth, however, was different—only Hana was shot. You survived."
Sensei's voice had been steady. "What are you trying to say?"
"You must have seen the killer's face."
"The killer wore grey clothes. His face was covered by cloth."
Carter had then pulled out another photograph, grainy and old. "This is Louis Joseph Myers. He was convicted of killing the couples. Sentenced to life. After twenty years, he hung himself with bed sheets. For twenty-four years, the killings stopped. Until now."
She slid over the photos of the most recent crime scenes, each one with the familiar bloody symbol.
"Someone's copying him," Carter said. "But why now?"
Sensei's expression hadn't shifted.
Finally, she placed down the photo of the wall with the bloody eye-circle. "Do you know what this means?"
He glanced at it quickly. Of course he knew what the symbol stands for. But he wasn't going to tell her because he remembered what Reid told Chiaki. It was best to keep Carter away from anything supernatural. It is for her own safety. "No. I'm sorry I can't help you. As I don't know what it means myself."
Carter had left frustrated, knowing he was holding something back.
Now, staring at the mountain of files, she muttered under her breath, "You know something, old man. I just don't know what."
Back in the present day, in the evening, Jay found himself back at the Southern Shrine, standing in the garden arena. Itsuki-sensei had gathered everyone for training.
The rules of the game were simple. They would play "King." One student was King, and the others would challenge them in sequence. If you beat the King, you took their place. If you lost, you waited for another chance.
But there was a catch—no powers allowed.
Jay was placed in a group with three of Itsuki's students. He was chosen to start as King.
The first challenger stepped forward, but before they could even begin, another shoved him aside. The boy who stepped up had a scowl etched into his face, his eyes filled with something more than competitiveness.
Jay's stomach twisted. What's his problem?
The boy clenched his fists, and fire erupted along his arms, flames crawling up to his shoulders. His black hair whipped upward, the tips glowing red.
The crowd gasped.
"No powers!" Itsuki-sensei barked.
But the boy didn't care. He lunged, flames whipping toward Jay.
Jay barely dodged, the heat searing across his cheek. "Hey! We're not supposed to—"
Another wave of fire forced him back, scorching the ground. Jay moved instinctively, ducking and weaving, but every strike came with killing intent.
The boy's eyes burned with hatred.
Why? Jay thought, sweat dripping down his neck. What did I do to him?
The fire surged again, and Jay barely avoided it, landing on one knee. His heart pounded. If he transformed, he could defend himself easily—but then he'd prove every fear right. That he was nothing but a demon waiting to lash out.
"Enough!"
Itsuki's voice cut through the chaos. Roots erupted from the ground, wrapping around the boy's legs, yanking him back. The flames sputtered out.
"You're done for today," Itsuki said sternly.
The boy snarled but didn't resist. He stalked off, glaring at Jay until the very last second.
Itsuki turned back to Jay, his tone apologetic. "Forgive him. His best friend was killed by a demon. He resents anything remotely demonic. Your existence… unsettles him."
Jay stayed silent, chest heaving. The boy's hatred had been so raw, so focused.
He swallowed hard. If that's how everyone sees me… how long until the others turn on me too?