On the sleek, low-humming helicopter, Saya's attitude had switched 360 degrees. She'd gone from being a kind and surprisingly talkative girl during their initial introductions, to now, a demanding, almost imperious queen. The shift was so abrupt, so complete, it left Tetsu reeling.
She threw the partially-drank bottle of mineral water, still half-full, directly at him.
It clattered against his chest, startling him.
"Whoa, hey!"
Tetsu exclaimed, fumbling to catch the bottle before it spilled.
"Did I do something wrong?"
He genuinely couldn't think of anything he'd said or done that warranted such an icy reception.
Saya didn't reply, her gaze fixed out the window, a rigid line in her shoulders.
The subtle hum of the helicopter's rotors, usually a comforting backdrop, now seemed to amplify the tension between them.
"Seriously, please tell me if I messed up," Tetsu pressed, a faint tremor of anxiety in his voice. He hated this kind of silent treatment.
"I'll do anything to make it right, whatever it is."
Saya slowly turned her head, her amber eyes, usually so vibrant, now narrowed, scrutinizing him with an unnerving intensity. A faint smirk, almost imperceptible, touched her lips.
"Anything?"
She asked, her voice dangerously soft.
"Yeah, anything," Tetsu affirmed, nodding eagerly, desperate to defuse the situation.
What could it possibly be? Did I accidentally insult her? Did I breathe too loudly?
"Then..." Saya leaned forward, her voice dropping to a chilling whisper, her eyes boring into his.
"Die."
Tetsu froze, his mind screeching to a halt. His jaw hung slightly open, the words hanging in the air like icicles.
What?
What did she just say? Did I hear that right?
A cold knot formed in his stomach, quickly replaced by a hot surge of despair and confusion. He felt a sting behind his eyes, a desperate, childish need to understand.
He swallowed hard, then thought, a silent cry echoing in the confines of his mind:
What in the world did I do to deserve this kind of crazy treatment? Was she serious?
She had to be messing with me, right? But her eyes… they looked so cold.
Saya watched him, observing the flicker of hurt and confusion in his eyes, the almost imperceptible wobble of his chin. A tiny pang of guilt, swift and unexpected, pricked at her.
Maybe that was a bit much, even for me.
She sighed, a small, impatient sound.
"Okay, fine," she conceded, rolling her eyes.
"You did nothing wrong. Jeez. Stop looking like a kicked puppy."
Tetsu's eyes, which had been threatening to well up, immediately cleared.
"Huh?" he asked, completely thrown by the sudden shift, his expression a comical mix of confusion and relief.
"It's just that," Saya began, turning back to stare out the window, her voice slightly muffled.
"Just what?"
Tetsu prompted, leaning forward slightly, desperate for an explanation.
Is she going to tell me? Is it something terrible? Or am I going to be left hanging forever?
"It's just... that. I don't want you to get close to Mr. Katsuragi."
Saya finished, her voice barely above a murmur, but the possessive edge was unmistakable.
"What?"
Tetsu blinked, processing the utterly unexpected declaration.
Reiji?
This is about Reiji?
He felt a surge of bewildered amusement, almost forgetting his earlier distress.
Saya continued, oblivious to his internal reaction, her eyes sparkling, a dreamy, distant look on her face. She held her hands to her chest, imagining a halo around her dream-figure of Reiji.
"He's just so handsome, you know? And so nice, always smiling. And strong! Like, impossibly strong, yet still single. He's totally, totally my type. He's like, a walking anime protagonist, but real!"
Her eyes actually seemed to sparkle with cartoonish heart shapes.
Tetsu went completely speechless, staring at her, a faint sense of horror creeping in.
He pictured the Reiji he knew: the annoying, playful, often irresponsible, slightly-too-flirty, constantly-eating, deeply eccentric Reiji who dragged him into underwater missions with snorkels.
You just haven't fully seen his personality.
Tetsu thought, a silent, knowing chuckle bubbling up inside him.
Wait till he makes you go on a beach in autumn. Or tries to get you to wrestle an Anomaly. Your 'walking anime protagonist' might turn into a chaotic gremlin real fast.
Saya then pointed at him, her dreamy expression instantly replaced by a critical glare.
"But someone like him," she began, her voice dripping with disdain, "why would he show any interest in someone like you? You're, like, a total rookie, yet he treated you like someone special..."
Tetsu felt a prick of annoyance, the earlier amusement fading. He countered without missing a beat.
"I don't know, and honestly, I'd wish he never did. You can have him, all of him."
The annoying parts too.
They then both sighed, a simultaneous, exhausted exhalation, a strange, unexpected moment of shared understanding.
The tension in the helicopter cabin, though briefly interrupted by Saya's bizarre confession, quickly returned, albeit with a new, slightly absurd undertone.
Saya, ever the astute observer, noticed his continued discomfort. Her amber eyes, unwavering and observant, were fixed on him, missing none of the rigid set of his jaw or the tight grip he had on the armrests, his knuckles white against the cool metal.
"Hey"
"You seem… tense."
Her tone was flat, devoid of sympathy, a purely factual observation.
Tetsu, his arms crossed defensively over his chest, leaned back against the contoured seat, the faux leather cool against his skin. The faint vibrations of the helicopter thrummed through him.
"Tense? Really? I'm being flown back to the school where my two best friends were brutally murdered, a place now revealed to be a breeding ground for the monsters responsible. If I wasn't tense, I'd wager I'd qualify for some kind of advanced psychiatric evaluation."
The sarcasm in his tone was a thin veil, barely concealing the raw anxiety and simmering rage that gnawed at him, a physical ache in his gut.
Of course I'm tense. This isn't a picnic. This is a nightmare.
Saya tilted her head, her vibrant orange ponytail swaying with the movement, her expression a curious blend of assessment and something that bordered on clinical interest, as if he were a specimen under a microscope.
"Fair point, I suppose, for someone so… emotionally invested."
"But if you intend to pull this off without getting us both captured or killed, you need to exert a modicum of control over those volatile feelings."
Seiryu Academy might outwardly resemble a typical educational institution, all cheerful lockers and teenage angst, but beneath that façade, it's a carefully cultivated hunting ground for the EERF. Any uncontrolled outburst, any slip-up fueled by your personal vendetta, and you'll blow our cover faster than a cheap firework on the Fourth of July."
Her voice was low, serious, leaving no room for argument.
Tetsu scowled, the accusation of emotional instability hitting a raw nerve.
She thinks I can't control myself? After everything?
"I didn't exactly sign up for a therapy session mid-air, you know."
He gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to snap back.
"Consider it mission-critical advice, delivered gratis," she retorted, leaning forward slightly, her tone softening by a fraction, though the underlying pragmatism remained as sharp as ever.
"Look, Tetsu, your past, your losses, the intricate tapestry of your personal tragedies… while undoubtedly heartrending for you, hold precisely zero strategic value for this operation. I am here to execute a directive, and regrettably, so are you. If your simmering emotions boil over at the wrong moment, it won't just be your inexperienced hide on the line. Mine will be right there beside it, getting scorched."
She paused, letting her words sink in.
"And trust me, I value my hide."
Tetsu opened his mouth to fire back a sharp retort, a defensive surge of anger rising within him, hot and quick, but he clamped his jaw shut just as quickly.
Saya's brutally honest assessment, devoid of any comforting platitudes or sugar-coating, held a stark, undeniable truth.
His personal pain, his desperate need for answers, couldn't become a liability that endangered the mission or, more importantly, put Saya in harm's way.
He might not like her, but he wouldn't intentionally endanger anyone.
She's right. Dammit.
Instead, he shifted, his curiosity piqued despite himself, a new line of thought forming.
"What about you, then, Ms. Ice Queen?"
"How do you manage to remain so… detached? Don't you have a past? Don't things… get to you? Are you just a robot or something?"
He watched her carefully, trying to find a crack in her perfectly composed facade.
Saya leaned back, crossing her long, slender legs with an air of practiced indifference, a subtle rustle of her uniform.
"One learns to compartmentalize. To erect mental firewalls. What happened to you, your friends, your family, the unfortunate demise of your goldfish in third grade… it all becomes irrelevant the moment you step into the operational theater."
"Focus on the immediate. On the tangible. On what you possess the agency to control."
Her tone suggested that discussing her own personal history was akin to dissecting a particularly dull, uninteresting textbook, or perhaps, something profoundly unpleasant she preferred not to touch.
The lack of any genuine emotion when she mentioned his 'friends' stung a little, a reminder of her purely logical approach.
The clinical pronouncements hung in the pressurized air of the helicopter cabin, mingling with the faint scent of jet fuel and recycled air.
Tetsu wanted to challenge her seemingly emotionless stance, to probe for the human beneath the detached operative, to break through her carefully constructed walls.
But a part of me recognized the potential sensibility in her words, however coldly delivered.
It was a harsh truth, but perhaps a necessary one for this line of work.
He sighed, turning his gaze back to the window, the blurring landscape of distant forests and sprawling cityscapes a temporary distraction from the internal battle he was waging—the fight between his raw emotions and the logical necessity of control.
"Fine, fine," Tetsu muttered, scratching the back of his neck in annoyance.
She's right, of course, but it doesn't mean I have to like it.
"And what precisely is the story of lies you've made for your grand entrance as a new transfer student?"
Tetsu asked, a hint of amusement coloring his tone despite the underlying tension.
I'm curious to see if you were as 'elegant' as you claimed.
"My backstory is simple."
Saya stated without a flicker of hesitation, her voice firm with self-assurance.
"I am Kamizaki Saya, a transfer student whose parents are currently serving in the diplomatic corps, stationed in some far-flung, culturally significant yet geographically obscure nation. This conveniently explains my sudden arrival and simultaneously renders me somewhat 'untouchable' should any overly inquisitive individuals attempt to dig too deeply into my origins."
"Questioning the movements of diplomats tends to raise bureaucratic red flags that even the most persistent busybody prefers to avoid."
She finished, a smug satisfaction in her tone.
Tetsu smirked, a grudging admiration for her quick thinking dawning within him.
She's good. Really good.
"You've clearly engaged in this… theatrical performance before, haven't you?" he prodded, a challenge in his eyes.
She offered no direct confirmation, her expression shifting to an unreadable mask of professional detachment.
The silence that followed spoke volumes, a silent acknowledgment that this wasn't her first rodeo.
The helicopter's advanced autopilot chimed softly, a delicate, almost melodic sound, signaling the commencement of their descent.
The sleek craft tilted gracefully, the cabin swaying almost imperceptibly as it began its approach towards their designated landing zone, a hidden field near Seiryu Academy.
Tetsu's grip on the armrest tightened involuntarily, his knuckles turning white, the familiar churn of pre-mission nerves twisting in his stomach.
The closer they got to Seiryu, the more palpable the weight of their task became, the memories of Haruto and Mio pressing in on him with renewed force.
Saya, ever observant, noticed his subtle discomfort, the slight tension in his jaw. A hint of amusement finally broke through her stoic façade, a rare glimpse of something less rigid.
"You look as though you're on the verge of regurgitating your surprisingly resilient breakfast."
"Shut up."
Tetsu muttered, shooting her a glare that lacked its usual heat, his focus already shifting to the mission ahead.
This is it. Seiryu Academy.
In a classroom equally buzzing with the morning's arrival, a similar, albeit less hostile, wave of curiosity washed over Kamizaki Saya. Posing as the enigmatic new transfer student, she stood calmly at the front of the room under the intense scrutiny of her peers, her posture radiating a quiet confidence that belied her true purpose. The soft chatter and rustle of textbooks faded as all eyes fixed on her.
The homeroom teacher, a kindly but slightly flustered woman with a perpetually worried expression, clapped her hands together in an attempt to restore order.
"Alright, settle down, everyone. Let's extend a warm Seiryu welcome to our new student. Saya, would you be so kind as to introduce yourself to the class?"
Saya offered a polite, almost regal nod, her movements graceful. Her voice was steady and clear, carrying an air of quiet authority that immediately commanded attention.
"I am Kamizaki Saya. I have recently transferred from Hoshikawa Academy. I look forward to the opportunity to study alongside all of you."
Her carefully crafted persona was one of quiet intelligence and a hint of worldly sophistication, designed to intrigue but not overwhelm.
The teacher beamed, clearly pleased. "Thank you, Saya. You can take the empty seat by the window, next to… Haruki."
As Saya gracefully made her way to the designated seat, a flurry of hushed whispers erupted around the room, a mixture of admiration and intrigue. She moved with an almost unsettling poise for a high school student, her uniform perfectly uncreased.
"She's so… beautiful," one girl breathed to her friend, her eyes wide with admiration, a hint of envy in her tone.
The boy sitting next to the empty desk, a lanky kid with too-long bangs, leaned over, his cheeks slightly flushed. "So, Kamizaki, your parents are… diplomats? That's incredibly cool! Does that mean you get to, like, travel to all sorts of exotic places? Like, actual palaces?"
Saya offered a measured, polite smile, her answers concise yet engaging, revealing just enough to satisfy without giving away anything crucial. "Occasionally. But the reality is often far less glamorous than it sounds. Lots of paperwork, less adventuring."
Another student, a bubbly girl with pigtails, chimed in, her curiosity piqued. "Do you speak any other languages? You have a… different kind of air about you. Like you're from a movie or something."
"A few," Saya replied smoothly, carefully cultivating an aura of understated elegance, her tone giving nothing away about her actual linguistic prowess.
The teacher cleared her throat again, a discreet but firm signal that the brief Q&A session was over.
"Alright, everyone, settle down. Let's open our textbooks to page 45."
She signaled the start of the lesson, effectively cutting off the burgeoning interrogation.
Saya turned her attention to the teacher, outwardly focused on the subject matter, her posture impeccable. Inwardly, however, her sharp mind was already at work.
She discreetly observed her new classmates, cataloging their interactions, deciphering their subtle social dynamics, noting who talked to whom, who seemed popular, who was an outcast.
She meticulously noted any unusual behavior or fleeting expressions—a nervous twitch, a too-quick glance, a suppressed shiver—that might hint at something more sinister beneath the surface of typical teenage normalcy. Every detail was a potential clue.
Meanwhile, in Tetsu's classroom, the usual morning buzz was notably subdued. The air felt heavier, tinged with a quiet sadness that had settled over the students since Haruto and Mio's deaths. Laughter was rare, replaced by hushed conversations and the occasional nervous cough.
From the classroom's wing, almost hidden by the doorway, a boy with sleek black hair, his face unreadable, stared at Tetsu with a doubtful, scrutinizing gaze, a silent accusation in his dark eyes. He didn't speak, but his stare lingered, unsettling and unwavering.
The next day, walking through the ornate wrought-iron gates of Seiryu Academy once more was akin to stepping into a half-forgotten, deeply unsettling dream, a tangible manifestation of the memories he had desperately tried to suppress.
The towering, slightly dilapidated buildings, still beautiful in their gothic grandeur, the cacophony of youthful chatter echoing through the quad, even the faint, lingering aroma of industrial-grade disinfectant and lukewarm cafeteria food – it was all eerily, disturbingly the same, yet profoundly different.
Except it wasn't. The vibrant energy he remembered, the carefree laughter that once filled these spaces, now felt tainted, overshadowed by a palpable sense of underlying dread, a silent testament to the darkness that now lurked within these familiar walls. Every familiar corner seemed to hold a ghost.
The moment he stepped into his former classroom, the boisterous atmosphere abruptly shifted.
Conversations fractured mid-sentence, laughter died in the air, and a collective wave of gazes, sharp with curiosity and suspicion, turned towards him.
The whispers began almost instantaneously, like a rustling of dry leaves in a sudden gust of wind, quickly escalating to hushed, yet audible, murmurs.
"Dude, the cops talked to him, right? I heard Haruto and Mio were murdered. It was super sketchy."
"Yeah, he seems way too calm for his best friends getting, like, totally murdered."
What… what are they even talking about? Tetsu thought, his internal monologue a frantic, disbelieving scramble.
Sketchy? Calm?
A cold knot formed in his stomach.
"You guys think...?" someone whispered, the question hanging in the air.
"...he killed both of them?"