Arien watched, trapped behind an invisible barrier that shimmered like heat haze. She could see Shiro clearly-every shift of his stance, every flicker of his gaze-but his eyes passed over her as if she were a ghost.
The man standing before him was a study in darkness, his form seeming to drink the light from the room. His black attire wasn't just clothing-it was a void, a tailored absence that made the air around him feel heavy and cold.
Man: So there you are, hiding in this... school. His voice was a low rasp, like stone grinding against stone. I finally found you, boy.
Shiro didn't respond. With a soft click, he sheathed his katana, the sound final in the tense silence. His eyes-sharp, calculating-scanned the room without moving his head.
They locked onto a spot in the air near Arien, where the barrier visibly wavered, the air twisting like a mirage. Ignoring the man as if he were little more than background noise, Shiro began walking toward it, his steps deliberate and unnervingly calm.
The man's knuckles tightened. He slammed the tip of his katana into the ground. The impact wasn't just loud-it was violent. Stone splintered, and a shower of crimson sparks erupted, casting demonic shadows across his masked face.
Man: Look at me when I'm speaking to you, boy. Don't tell me you've forgotten this man.
Shiro spared him a sidelong glance, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes, but his pace never broke. He secured his katana at his waist with a practiced twist and slid his hands into his pockets, his posture radiating not just confidence, but utter dismissal-a silent declaration that this man posed no threat to him. It was a chilling display of either supreme arrogance or profound understanding.
A low, grating laugh escaped the man's mask. He sheathed his own blade with a sound like a serpent sliding back into its den.
Man: Hmph. You haven't changed a bit. Still that infuriating confidence. But I didn't track you through half the provinces just to chat.
Shiro walked straight through the shimmering boundary of the barrier as if it were smoke. The two conscious girls, Sasha and Lena, didn't just step back-they recoiled, their faces pale, their bodies trembling. It wasn't caution; it was primal, knee-buckling fear.
Shiro: Arien. You okay? His voice was quiet, but it cut through the tension like a blade.
Arien's breath hitched, a wave of relief so powerful it made her knees weak. Her smile was shaky but real.
Arien: Y-yes, I'm okay.
The man stepped through the barrier after him, the air crackling faintly at his passage. Arien instantly raised her katana, point aimed at his throat, but Shiro's hand was already there, his fingers gently but firmly pressing her blade down.
The fabric of the man's mask shifted, the hint of a cruel smile beneath.
Man: Smart move.
In the next heartbeat, the man's sword was in his hand. But Shiro's was already drawn, a silver flash meeting the man's dark steel.
Yet their blades weren't pointed at each other. In perfect, unsettling unison, both had turned, their weapons aimed toward the doorway, sensing a new, powerful presence approaching.
Man: Tch. It seems we have company. He let out a disappointed sigh. Don't think this is over, boy. I'm not done with you.
He took several steps backward. The shadows in the corner of the room congealed, swirling into a vortex that resembled a staircase descending into nothingness. Without another word, he stepped into the abyss and was gone, the shadows dissolving behind him.
The door swung open. Three students entered, but they were unlike any others. The one in front moved with a predator's grace, his every step radiating controlled power. His two flanking students moved in perfect, silent synchronization, their eyes scanning the room with cold efficiency.
Shiro didn't recognize them, but the reaction in the room was immediate. The girls froze. Yuki, still in the corner, bowed her head slightly. Arien's grip on her katana tightened, her knuckles white.
The lead student's gaze swept the scene, missing nothing. His voice was calm, but it carried an undeniable weight of authority.
???: Report. What happened here?
Shiro met his eyes, unblinking.
Shiro: Nothing.
Faster than Arien's eyes could follow, the student's katana was in his hand-still sheathed-and pressed against Shiro's forehead. The pressure was not physical, but a dense, suffocating aura of power that made the air hum.
???: You. Do you have any idea who you're speaking to?
Normally, Arien would be trying to de-escalate, fearing Shiro's unpredictable nature. But now, she acted on pure instinct, pulling Shiro back by his sleeve, her movements urgent. The two students also stepped forward, their hands raised placatingly toward their leader.
Student 1: ah, perhaps-
Arien spoke, her eyes fixed on the ground, her voice barely above a whisper, laced with genuine fear.
Arien: I'm sorry, but nothing happened, truly. And we... we apologize for speaking to you that way.
The lead student held the pressure for a moment longer, his eyes locked with Shiro's, before slowly lowering the sheathed blade. He returned it to his waist with a definitive snap.
???: I felt a powerful, foreign presence. It's gone now. His sharp eyes cataloged the scene: Yuki standing apart, Miya unconscious on the floor, Sasha and Lena paralyzed with fear. His lip curled in faint disgust.
???: You two. Leave. I will... manage this cleanup. You seem uninvolved.
Arien didn't dare look up.
Arien: Yes. Thank you.
She yanked Shiro's sleeve, pulling him forcefully toward the exit. As they passed the threshold, Shiro glanced back over his shoulder. His eyes met the lead student's one last time. Both faces were masks of apathy, but where Shiro's was a calm, deep lake, the student's was a frozen, treacherous sea.