The morning sun beat down on the open field without mercy. Hundreds of students stood in uneven rows, their black and white uniforms still stained with the remnants of the entrance exam, dirt, blood, faint scorch marks.
The air was thick with the smell of sweat and exhaustion and the particular tension of people who were now expected to stand at attention like civilized human beings.
The man on the stage was tall and gaunt. His smile was the worst thing about him, a smile that seemed off somehow but Hoshimi couldn't put his finger on it. He spread his arms as if to embrace the entire assembly.
"Hello students, welcome to Hex Academy! Be glad that you managed to pass. The entrance exam was nothing but an introduction. Welcome to hell."
The words echoed across the field, amplified by some acoustic magic that made them seem to come from everywhere at once. A few students laughed nervously.
Neila stood near the front of the crowd, adjusting the sleeve of her shirt . She needed to make sure her uniform was symmetrical, at any cost. Her weight shifted to one hip in a posture of studied indifference.
Her blonde hair, usually immaculate, was still slightly disheveled from the exam, a few strands escaped her twin-tails, and there was a faint smudge of dirt on her cheek, she didn't have a mirror with her.
Her blue eyes were fixed on the speaker with an expression of profound boredom.
[A speech. Of course. Because what this morning needed was a speech.]
She let out a breath through her nose, the closest thing to a sigh she would permit herself in public.
[This place smells awful]
The man on stage was still talking, something about duty and honor and the glorious tradition of Hex Academy. She'd stopped listening approximately three words in.
"Neila."
The voice was small, barely audible over the murmur of the crowd. But Neila heard it. Her head turned, almost imperceptibly, toward the source.
A girl was being dragged away. She couldn't have been more than sixteen, young, small, with mousy brown hair that had come loose from its braid and was now hanging in tangled strands around a face streaked with tears.
Two men in the dark uniforms of the Witch's Department had her by the arms, their grips tight enough to bruise. Her legs kicked uselessly against the grass, her shoes leaving shallow furrows in the dirt.
"NEILA! You promised! You promised that you'd free me!!"
The girl's voice cracked on the last word, splintering into something that was half scream and half sob. Her fingers reached toward Neila, stretching across the impossible distance between them, desperate and trembling.
The crowd had gone quiet. Dozens of students turned to watch, their expressions ranging from horror to indifference to something that looked almost like relief, relief that it wasn't them being dragged away.
Neila looked at the girl. Her expression didn't change. Her arms remained crossed. Her posture remained relaxed.
She extended her hand, not to reach back, not to offer comfort, but in a gesture of dismissal, a wave of farewell.
"Byee."
The girl's eyes went wide. The tears were still falling, but something behind them had shifted, desperation giving way to the first cold tendrils of understanding.
"Weren't you the first daughter of the Shaw family!? You told me you could free me!"
"The first child?" Neila tilted her head, a bird-like motion that seemed to involve more neck than should have been possible. "That was a lie. I don't even know how many children my father even had."
The girl screamed something else, words that were lost in the sudden roar of blood in Neila's ears, in the distant murmur of the crowd, in the sound of her own heartbeat which was steady, always so steady.
The men in dark uniforms pulled harder, and the girl's fingers lost their grip on the grass. Her nails left long, ragged scratches in the dirt.
When they dragged her across the carpeted area near the stage, her nails caught again, and this time they broke, three of them, torn clean off, leaving behind bright crescents of blood on the beige fabric.
The girl was still screaming as they hauled her through a side door. The door swung shut. The screaming stopped.
The silence that followed was louder than the screaming had been.
Neila turned back to the stage. Her face was blank.
She could feel the eyes of the other students on her, curious.
She just stood there with her arms crossed and her expression empty.
[They were going to be drained anyway. I just gave them a few extra hours of hope. But it's better than nothing. Isn't it? They should be glad they gave their lives up to me]
---
The man on the stage cleared his throat, drawing attention back to himself with the practiced ease of someone who was used to being the most important person in any room.
"The seven top-scoring members will have to be escorted to the principal's office. He has a special task for the seven of you to accomplish."
The words cut through Hoshimi's exhaustion like a blade. He'd been standing near the back of the crowd, sixth place, trying to be forgettable, trying to do everything he'd done his entire life. And now this.
[ I thought the Academy would just reach out for the top five. This is bullshit. I should'be placed myself at 10th]
His fingers found his mouth almost without conscious thought, his teeth worrying at the edge of his thumbnail.
His breathing had quickened, just slightly, just enough that he had to consciously slow it down before anyone noticed.
Sixth place was supposed to be safe. Sixth place was supposed to be invisible, high enough to get the good dormitory, the private bathroom,, but low enough that no one would pay attention.
The top five got special missions. The top ten got recognition.
[This must be Reina's doing. Everything from the beginning, she knew I would get either sixth or seventh place. She manipulated me into this. The hell, I can't believe that she's one of the school faculty]
[Why the hell would this mission need me? What does she know that I don't?]
He didn't have an answer.
---
A while had passed.
The seven of them walked in single file, arranged by rank. Neila Shaw. Dominic Walker. Kira Aamon. Sarah Williams. Lucy Walker. Hoshimi Shirogane. Edward Nio.
The hallway stretched before them like something from a fever dream, too long, too ornate, too deliberately impressive. Gold leaf covered every surface that could be covered.
The chandeliers overhead were massive, crystalline, their light scattering across the marble floors in fragmented rainbows. Paintings lined the walls at regular interval, —portraits of the seven Primordial Witches, their faces rendered in oils that had darkened with age, their expressions somewhere between serene and judgmental.
Hoshimi found himself studying the paintings as they walked. Bleu, the Witch of Sloth, was depicted as a woman sleeping in a pen of sheep, her eyes half-closed, her expression one of profound indifference.
Vert, the Witch of Greed, sat atop a pile of gold coins, her fingers curled into grasping claws.
Rouge, the Witch of Wrath, stood in the center of a battlefield, her sword raised, her face contorted in a scream that the artist had captured with unsettling precision.
"The principal really seems to like the Primordial Witches," Hoshimi murmured, more to himself than to anyone else.
Kira was walking beside him, she'd been walking beside him since they'd left the field, her shoulder occasionally brushing against his arm. She looked up at his words, her clouded lapis eyes meeting his violet ones.
"We're witches after all, at the very least we should worship our progenitors." She paused, her brow furrowing slightly.
"They have the names of demons," Hoshimi said quietly, so quietly that only Kira could hear. He paused, his eyes lingering on the portrait of Rouge, the red-eyed goddess, the Witch of Wrath, the Red horse. "They're the reason we're being ostracized in the first place. We're named after demons, and people treat us like demons."
Kira looked at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then she nudged him with her elbow, a small, tentative gesture that seemed to surprise her as much as it surprised him.
"I thought you wouldn't make it," she said. "During the exam. When everything was... when it was all happening. I thought-" She stopped, swallowed, tried again. "I'm happy for you. That you made it. That you're here. I mean you told me that you would, but like…"
Her smile was crooked, uncertain, the smile of someone who hadn't had much practice with the expression.
Hoshimi smiled back. "I told you that I'd manage," he said. "I promised you."
It didn't reach his eyes.
Kira looked down at her feet, her thumbs rubbing together in anxious circles.
The movement was compulsive, almost involuntary, the kind of self-soothing gesture that had been practiced so many times it had become automatic.
"You really did manage to keep your promise," she said. Her voice was quiet now, almost a whisper. "I mean, you told me that you would, but people say things like that all the time and they don't really mean them, or they mean them but they can't follow through, or they follow through but it's not the same as what they promised, and I thought maybe you were just being nice, because people are nice to me sometimes but it's usually because they want something, not because they actually-"
She stopped abruptly, her face flushing. "I-I'm sorry for bothering you. I really didn't mean to ramble. I really should stop talking right now. I'm so sorry."
She bowed, her spine bending at a sharp angle, her hair falling forward to hide her face. The gesture was so formal, so excessive.
"You're not bothering me," he said, patting her shoulder. "Really."
Kira flinched at the contact. Just slightly, a tightening of her shoulders, a sharp intake of breath. But she didn't pull away. After a moment, she straightened, her eyes meeting his with an expression that was equal parts hope and terror.
[She's awkward. Stumbling over herself. Overly apologetic. And with the amount of mana she possesses, she must be a reincarnated]
"Thank you," Kira whispered. "Thank you, thank you, thank you so much. I promise that I will repay you somehow."
"You don't need to repay me."
"But I want to." Her voice was fierce now, suddenly intense. "I want to be useful. I want to-" She stopped, her hands clenching at her sides. "I don't want to be a burden.
Before Hoshimi could respond, the hallway opened up ahead of them. A woman stepped out from a side door, tall, broad-shouldered, with ginger hair that cascaded past her shoulders in a fiery mess.
She wore a long tan coat with pockets in every edge, and there was a cigarette tucked behind her ear that she hadn't bothered to light.
"Hello, students." Her voice was pleasant, professional, the voice of someone who had given this speech a hundred times. "My name is Reina Albert, and I'm the Vice Principal of Hex Academy. Nice to meet you all."
Her gold eyes swept over the group with an expression that was neither warm nor cold.
Neila stepped forward, her hand resting on her hip in a posture that managed to convey both impatience and disdain. "I thought the principal was going to see us."
"He has a guest right now." Reina's smile didn't waver. "So I'm here to deliver the message instead." She put her hands behind her back and cracked her neck.
"The seven of you will be sent to protect a high-ranking government official's family for a week."
Neila's eyes narrowed, her expression hardening into something cold and sharp and dangerous.
"Excuse me?" Her voice was flat, clipped, the voice of someone who was used to giving orders rather than receiving them. "I made it to first place and not even a single congratulations?" She stopped herself, visibly reining in her anger. "And all I get is a stupid task to play bodyguard? For a government official?"
Reina's expression didn't change. "Think of it as a practical exam of sorts. You're still first years. You'll get harder and harder tasks in the future."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only answer you're going to get."
Dominic stepped forward, his posture relaxed, his expression one of lazy amusement.
He'd been silent until now, watching the exchange with the air of someone who was being mildly entertained.
"So tell me, Miss Vice Principal." He gestured expansively, his crimson eyes glittering with something that might have been mischief or something else. "Which douchebag's family are we supposed to protect?"
Reina didn't flinch. "Classified. His identity is of no importance. You'll just protect their family."
Dominic's smirk widened. He extended one finger, pointing it directly at Reina's chest, a gesture that was almost aggressive, almost insolent. "Ahh. What are you trying to hide?"
"Classified."
Lucy stepped forward, shouldering past her brother with an expression of barely contained fury. There was still blood on her lips from the exam, a thin line of crimson that she wiped away with the back of her hand, leaving a faint smear across her cheek.
"Are you kidding me?" Her voice was louder than it needed to be, sharper than the situation warranted. "We barely had any rest after the fucking bloodbath out there. I watched innocent witches die!" She gestured at the group, her remaining hand sweeping in a wide arc. "And now we're being used to protect the same people who treated us like weapons?"
"Lucy." Dominic's voice was quiet, almost gentle. "Calm down."
"Don't tell me to calm down!" She rounded on him, her crimson eyes blazing. "You're always telling me to calm down, to be reasonable, to think about the bigger picture, but the bigger picture is that we're tools, Dominic. We're livestock, the lives of innocent people are at the tip of their fingertips and I'm sick of it. I'm sick of pretending that any of this is okay."
Neila shrugged her shoulders. "I'm more pissed that I'm being given commands rather than anything else".
"Of course you are Neila, you don't care about anyone except yourself. I've just seen people getting dragged away in front of my own eyes!"
Reina watched Lucy with an expression that was impossible to read. "Are you finished?"
Lucy's jaw tightened. Her hands clenched at her sides. But she didn't speak.
"Good." Reina's voice was calm, measured, the voice of someone who had dealt with far more dangerous outbursts than this one. "Children, you're being trusted, you seven are the top of the new students of Hex Academy, and Hex Academy serves the government. You either learn to obey, or you serve a different purpose. Those are your options."
"And what purpose would that be?" Edward's voice came from the back of the group. He was leaning against a small table, his arms crossed, his dark eyes fixed on Reina with an expression of careful neutrality. "What happens to the students who don't obey?"
Reina met his gaze. "Their bodies get squeezed out." She paused, letting the words sink in. "But I don't think any of you want that. You're the top of the class. You represent the entirety of the first year. Public image matters."
"So we're not bodyguards," Edward said. His voice was still quiet, still measured, but there was an edge to it now. "We're PR puppets."
"Come on, man. Relax." Dominic crossed to Edward and slung an arm around his shoulders, his grin widening. "I'm here. I promise you that nothing wrong could ever happen. Stop being such a fuckin worrywart."
Edward didn't return the smile. "There's nothing wrong with worrying a little. In fact, I'd argue that worrying is the only rational response to this situation. We're being sent on a mission with no information, no preparation. That's not a practical exam. That's a setup."
"Then we'll deal with it when it comes." Dominic squeezed his shoulder, his grip firm but not aggressive. "That's what we always do, right? Deal with things when they come?"
Edward looked at him for a long moment. Then, slowly, he nodded. "Fine. But I'm registering a formal objection."
Neila cracked her neck, a sharp, deliberate motion that drew the attention of everyone in the hallway. "Fine," she said, her voice clipped. "Tell me who the client is."
"I told you." Reina's expression was blank. "Classified."
"Worth a try." Neila shrugged. "I don't suppose you can tell us anything useful? Number of family members? Location of the estate? Likely threats?"
"The estate is in the city. The family consists of a patriarch and three children. The threats are..." Reina paused, her gold eyes flickering toward Hoshimi for just a fraction of a second. "Uncertain. That's part of why you're being sent."
Neila rolled her eyes. "How reassuring."
Reina didn't respond. She simply turned and walked past them, one hand in the pocket of her coat and the other in her pants, her heels clicking against the marble floor with metronomic precision.
As she passed Hoshimi, her shoulder brushed against his, a casual contact, barely noticeable.
But her voice was in his ear, soft and low and meant for him alone: "Come to my office later. We need to talk."
Then she was gone, disappearing through a door at the end of the hallway, leaving the seven of them standing in silence.
---
The moon gleamed through the window of Hoshimi's dormitory room, casting long silver shadows across the carpeted floor. The television screen on the wall was dark, its surface reflecting the faint golden light of the bedside lamp.
The room was silent except for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the distant, muffled sounds of other students settling into their own rooms.
Hoshimi lay on his bed, still fully clothed, his body aching with the accumulated fatigue of the entrance exam.
He'd been lying there for an hour, staring at the ceiling.
He sat up. The carpet was soft beneath his bare feet, the fibers pressing against his toes.
He crossed to the window and pulled the curtain aside, looking out at the Academy grounds below. The courtyard was empty, the fountain still and dark, the trees casting long shadows in the moonlight.
"What are you doing here?"
He didn't turn around. He'd felt her presence before he'd heard her, that familiar mana signature.
Reina was sitting at his desk. She'd somehow entered without making a sound, the door was still closed, the lock still engaged. She was manspreading in his chair, her legs wide, her posture deliberately, provocatively casual.
A toothpick dangled from her lips, and a small electric fan sat on the desk beside her, its blades spinning lazily and stirring her ginger hair into gentle motion.
"Look at all of this aura," she said, gesturing at the fan.
Hoshimi rubbed his temples. "When are you going to stop your stupid antics? And are you going to get off my table?"
Reina stood and crossed to his bed, flopping down onto the mattress with casual entitlement. The springs groaned beneath her weight.
"I'm here to warn you about the mission," she said.
Hoshimi turned from the window. His violet eyes, still faintly glowing with residual mana, fixed on her face with an expression that was equal parts suspicion and exhaustion.
"Yeah, right." His voice was flat, sarcastic. "During the conversation at the cafe, you persuaded me into reaching the top ten. You knew I was going to get to sixth place, didn't you? You manipulated me into accepting this mission, and now you're here to warn me about it. That's not suspicious at all."
Reina's smile widened. "That girl. Kira Aamon. She's at your bidding now, isn't she?" She propped herself up on her elbows, her gold eyes glittering with amusement. "So you really can't be judging me for a little bit of mischief."
"That's different."
"Is it?"
Hoshimi opened his mouth to argue, then closed it.
He wasn't sure it was different. He wasn't sure of anything anymore.
Reina seemed to sense his uncertainty. Her expression softened, just slightly, the mask of amusement giving way to something more serious.
"There's tension in the family you're tasked to protect," she said. "Some of the children are fighting each other for the future position of prime minister. Make sure the head of the family doesn't get killed."
Hoshimi crossed to the bed and sat down on the edge of it, his hands folded in his lap. "So you're going to make me find the supposed future usurper?"
"Yep." Reina took the toothpick out of her mouth and pointed it at him, her legs crossing beneath her. "Some little brat is supposedly planning murder. One of the children, or someone close to them probably, at least that's what I think. I want you to figure out which one and stop them before they succeed."
"How are you so sure it's going to happen? Do you have any evidence? Witnesses? A paper trail?"
Reina shook her head. "Nope. It's a gut feeling."
"A gut feeling." Hoshimi's voice was flat. "You're sending me on a mission based on a gut feeling."
"There's already tension in the family. The patriarch has three children, all of them vying for his position. The oldest is a bully, the youngest is too clever for his own good, and the middle child..." She paused, her gold eyes meeting his. "The middle child is a witch, be careful of her."
Hoshimi filed that information away. "I'll send their photos to you tomorrow morning. Be a good boy and catch him before he kills the prime minister. Or let him get killed, I don't really care as long as you find the killer."
"Calling me a good boy doesn't really motivate me, you know."
Reina gave a sly smirk, the expression transforming her face into something almost predatory. "That's up to you. If you manage to solve it, you're a hero. If you don't, maybe the better candidate wins."
Hoshimi stared at her for a long moment. "Government lapdog."
"I'm a witch too, Hoshimi. What would you expect?"