The room emptied on Yūshin's command.
Rhea stayed outside the one-way mirror, fists tight, eyes locked on them.
Inside, Aḷden and Yūshin faced each other in silence.
Not hostility — evaluation.
Aḷden broke the stillness first.
"You came because you believe I'm dangerous."
Yūshin nodded. "I came because danger doesn't always manifest as violence. Sometimes it manifests as restraint. You restrain too much."
Aḷden's jaw tightened. "Restraint prevents destruction."
"No," Yūshin countered. "Restraint hides destruction until it erupts without warning."
Aḷden didn't answer.
Yūshin circled him slowly, observing posture, microexpressions, breath rhythm — the way a seasoned hunter evaluates whether an animal is injured or preparing to strike.
"You saw the body," Yūshin said. "Clean cuts. No panic. No confusion."
He paused behind Aḷden. "That precision reflects intent."
Aḷden closed his eyes briefly. "And you think it's mine."
"I think you're close to it," Yūshin said. "Closer than anyone else realizes."
Aḷden looked up at him sharply. "You're projecting your past onto me."
There was no fear in his tone. Only logic.
Yūshin stopped moving.
"My past," he said, "is why I can identify what you're becoming."
Aḷden's fingers tightened against the table edge. "Then say it clearly."
Yūshin stepped forward until he stood directly in front of him.
"You're shifting."
Aḷden's eyes froze. "Explain."
"Your emotional responses are narrowing," Yūshin said. "Your empathy is not gone, but it's becoming selective. You don't fear violence. You evaluate it."
Aḷden inhaled deeply, controlled. "Observation is not harm."
"But it precedes harm," Yūshin replied. "Always."
Aḷden held his gaze without wavering.
"Are you here to protect me?" he asked. "Or to stop me?"
"Both," Yūshin said. "That's why I'm the one judging you."
Aḷden leaned forward, tone steady.
"Then test me. Don't circle. Don't imply. Ask directly."
Yūshin did.
"Do you want to kill?"
Aḷden didn't blink. "No."
"You're lying," Yūshin said instantly.
Aḷden's pulse didn't spike. His breathing stayed stable.
"It's not desire," he said. "It's curiosity. The impulse is cognitive, not emotional."
"That's worse," Yūshin replied. "Desire fades. Curiosity grows."
Aḷden lowered his gaze for the first time — not in guilt, but in deep calculation.
"And what would you do," he said quietly, "if I lose control one day?"
Yūshin answered without hesitation.
"I'll stop you."
Aḷden looked back up. "By killing me?"
"If required."
Silence compressed the room.
For the first time, a subtle fracture appeared in Aḷden's expression — not fear, but recognition.
He understood now: Yūshin wasn't exaggerating.
He meant every word.
Aḷden exhaled slowly. "You're not my enemy."
"And you're not my student," Yūshin replied. "Not yet."
Aḷden's eyes sharpened. "Then what am I?"
"An unknown," Yūshin said. "Unknowns are the most dangerous variables."
The atmosphere tightened again, but this time it wasn't a threat — it was the formation of a contract neither of them verbalized.
Aḷden finally spoke:
"I'll prove I'm not your enemy."
Yūshin nodded once. "And I'll be watching every choice you make."
The door opened. Rhea stepped in, face rigid.
"Your time is up," she said.
Yūshin looked at her calmly. "His time is beginning."
Aḷden stood. Controlled. Silent. Focused.
Yūshin watched him — not with fear, but with a solemn weight.
The judgment had started.
And Aḷden knew it.