Saint Lycoris Academy — 13:00 hoursRain level: moderate
The ceremony ends in polite ripples.Robes swish, umbrellas bloom, the sound of rain folds neatly into the sound of obedience.
At the courtyard's center stands our new brother in faith—umbrella half-open, hair darkened by the drizzle.Ren Kaido.
He doesn't look like the others. His uniform is worn, his tie crooked, his eyes…awake.Most students here blink in rhythm with the bells.He doesn't.
Mother Violet lays a hand on his shoulder, smile radiant as ritual.
"Saint Lycoris welcomes you, child. Kana Haruno will guide you."
My name lands like an order.Everyone bows. I don't move until she looks away.
Diary Segment
[Fragment Log #02 — "Assignment: Guidance Duty"]Observation Target: Kaido, RenClassification: Civilian / AnomalyObjective: Ensure compliance and evaluate threat potential.Secondary Note: The subject smiled. Possible ulterior motive.
We walk the garden path together, silence stretching like glass between raindrops.
He tries to fill it.
REN: "It's peaceful here."KANA: "Peaceful things are easier to break."REN: "…That's a strange way to see it."KANA: "It's the only way that lasts."
He laughs softly—quiet, human, unafraid.Most people flinch when I speak that way.Something about his voice feels wrong for this place.Too steady. Too alive.
The rain thickens, tapping against the walkway like typewriter keys.Each drop sounds like a trigger pull.
After class, we're assigned to assist in a safety drill.That's what they call it. It's training in disguise—obedience dressed as faith.
Drones hover over the courtyard, target sensors glowing pale blue.Students take turns slicing them mid-flight, choreography for grace and control.
Ren volunteers.Foolish. Brave. Curious.
When the first drone dives, its sensor flickers—a glitch.It aims straight for his face, blades spinning.
Before thought. Before breath.
My body moves.
Metal screams.Sparks scatter like petals.The courtyard freezes.
The drone splits cleanly in half, my blade vibrating with a hum that shouldn't exist in this era.
I stand still. My pulse stays even.
Ren stares, fragments of plastic drifting between us like snow.
REN: "You moved before the alarm."KANA: "Habit."REN: "From what?"KANA: "Old games."
The instructor's voice crackles over the speaker, trembling with praise."Excellent instinct, Haruno!"
I bow. My knuckles ache from how hard I'm clenching the hilt.
Inside my skull, static stirs.A voice—sharp, measured, mechanical.
[Protector Protocol Online]"Unknown variable detected.Secure perimeter.Prevent damage to the target."
"Target?"
"The boy."
"Why?"
"Because the heart rate spiked when he smiled."
The static fades, leaving a tremor under my skin.I press my palm to my thigh until my nails dig crescent marks to quiet it.
When we leave the courtyard, the rain has stopped, the world scrubbed too clean.Ren holds the umbrella anyway—closed, like an afterthought—and offers it to me.
He doesn't realize what that means here.Umbrellas are relics. Rain is supposed to obey schedules.
REN: "You saved me back there."KANA: "No. I preserved balance."REN: "Either way…thanks."
That word again. Thanks.
It lodges somewhere in my throat, sharp and unfamiliar.Gratitude is not part of the curriculum.
He smiles. The sound of it—because smiles here make noise—unsettles me more than the drone ever did.
Diary Fragment
[Fragment Log #02-B]Subject survived exposure.Instinct deviation — confirmed.Heart rate — irregular.Word anomaly recorded: "Thanks."Possible new trigger discovered.Testing required.
The rest of the day passes in blurred precision.Prayers, lectures, metrics, reports—everything designed to erase the tremor in my hand.
But by evening, it's still there.A phantom movement echoing through muscle memory.
I return to the dormitory before lights-out.The room is sterile: white walls, a steel bed, a single framed verse above the desk.Obedience is a form of faith.
My reflection in the mirror smiles before I do.Her expression is wrong—too gentle.Behind my eyes, that same mechanical hum starts again, a lullaby of circuitry and warning.
"Protect the variable."
The voice fades.I am left staring at my reflection, wondering which of us obeyed.
Outside, the garden sleeps beneath the rain's return.Inside, the hum of the Academy continues—quiet, perfect, oblivious.
I sit on the edge of my bed, open my diary, and press a thumb to the pulse at my neck.It beats faster when I write his name.
Observation Note:Kaido, Ren — irregular effect on resonance field.Possible contamination.Or awakening.
The ink smears slightly where my hand shakes.I close the book and slide it beneath my pillow, as if hiding the words can make them less true.
Somewhere beyond the dorm walls, the crow circles the bell tower again, right on schedule.Everything remains in order.Everything except me.
I whisper the prayer they taught us to keep the mind still.It doesn't work.The petals inside my head are already opening.
When I finally lie down, I can still feel the echo of motion—the swing that split the drone, the heartbeat that wasn't mine.
Sleep comes slowly.When it does, it smells faintly of rain and metal.
In the dream, the courtyard glows crimson.Ren stands where the statue of Saint Lycoris should be, umbrella in hand.The six petals bloom around him, bright and bleeding.
He looks at me and says a word I can't remember when I wake.
Saint Lycoris Academy — 23:00 hours.
Security drones hum outside the window.Rain pools in the gutters like mercury.My body is still; my thoughts are not.
The mirror on the opposite wall flickers faintly.For a heartbeat, another reflection looks back—same face, same uniform, eyes lined with faint circuitry.
"Mission: Protect the variable."
I close my eyes until the reflection disappears.When I open them again, I'm alone.But the pulse in my wrist argues otherwise.
End of Diary #2 — "The Quiet Orchard."