Music for chapter: Death Cab For Cutie - I Dreamt We Spoke Again
Aullie sat on the edge of his bed, hunched over with his head in his hands. His shirt was soaked through with sweat even though the morning air coming through his window was cold enough to see his breath. The nightmare was still stuck to him like tar. The blood on concrete, someone screaming in a language he barely recognized, and that familiar burning pain in his side where a blade had gone in deep.
Except it wasn't a memory of his. It never is.
He pressed the heel of his palm against his temple and let out a long breath.
"Three this week," he muttered to the empty room.
The dreams had been happening since he was a kid. Back then they were just weird flashes, a burning building here, the taste of copper in his mouth there, voices yelling in Thai that he somehow understood but couldn't speak. He'd tried to convince himself they were just nightmares for years, but nightmares weren't this vivid, and didn't have as much impact.
Aullie grabbed the water glass from his nightstand and drained it in one go, then looked over at the windowsill where Shinku was perched like some kind of gargoyle. The cat's black fur had those blood-red stripes that seemed to move in the light, and his eyes glowed like someone had stuck LEDs behind rubies.
"You know it's creepy as hell when you just sit there staring at me, right?" Aullie said. "Like you're waiting for me to keel over so you can eat my face."
Shinku blinked slowly, and for just a second Aullie could have sworn he heard something. He froze, listening.
Nothing.
Same as always.
"Great, now I'm hearing things too." He rubbed his face and stood up. "Perfect."
The bathroom light flickered when he flipped the switch, casting weird shadows across the mirror. He cranked the cold water and splashed it on his face, letting it drip off his chin into the sink. The shock of it helped clear some of the dream fog from his head.
His reflection stared back at him, eighteen years old but looking like he'd already seen a little too much. White hair that made him stand out like a sore thumb, pale skin that never seemed to tan no matter how much time he spent outside, and those green eyes that his friends said looked like they glowed. Most people found them unsettling. He'd learned to use that to his advantage.
As he reached for a towel, he caught sight of the tattoo covering his right arm. Full sleeve, black and gray traditional work, dragons coiled around peonies, waves crashing against wind bars, all of it wrapped in smoke that seemed to move when you weren't looking directly at it. He'd gotten it when he was sixteen, right after the anniversary of his dad's death. Aoi Ikeda had died in the last big demon push ten years ago, when they'd tried to take Japan's southern coast and gotten their asses handed to them instead.
The demons had been quiet since then almost too quiet. Everyone had a feeling they were just waiting for their next big shot.
By the time he made it outside, Kirin Academy was already buzzing with morning activity. The moonlamps were still glowing their eerie silver-blue, fighting against the natural sunlight that was starting to break through the clouds. The whole place was this weird mix of ancient stone towers and modern tech, Aether conduits running through the walls like glowing veins, powering everything from the lights to the training equipment.
It should have looked weird, all that old-school architecture mixed with what was basically magic-powered electronics. Instead, it looked exactly like what it was: a school designed to train people to fight monsters and demons that shouldn't exist.
Aullie shoved his hands in his pockets and started walking. He had an hour before his first class, which meant an hour to figure out why his nightmares were getting worse and whether the voice he kept almost hearing in his head meant he was finally losing it completely.
Just another normal Tuesday at demon-fighting school.
Shinku followed him out, paws silent on the stone walkway. The cat moved like a shadow, which was just another thing to add to Aullie's growing list of "probably not normal."
He headed for the outdoor training area, where later the sounds of sparring and shouted instructions would echo off the walls. Right now it was just him, the birds, and the slowly lightening sky.
"You're up early even for you."
Aullie turned to see Haru walking toward him, hands shoved deep in his coat pockets and looking like he'd rather be literally anywhere else.
Haru Watanabe, his cousin, his aunt's only kid, and probably the closest thing to a brother he'd ever have. They had the same sharp jawline and the same tendency to avoid talking about feelings, but where Haru had the normal Ikeda brown hair and brown eyes that ran in the family, Aullie had gotten his green eyes from his British mom and his white hair from... well, nobody was quite sure where that had come from. Another Aether morph, probably, though his had shown up a lot earlier than most. He was usually the one cracking jokes and keeping everyone from taking themselves too seriously, but he was also the guy who'd have your back when everything went to shit.
"Some of us don't need twelve hours of beauty sleep to function," Aullie said, managing what he hoped passed for a normal smile.
"Right. Some of us are just naturally haunted." Haru's tone was light, but his eyes were serious.
Aullie didn't bother denying it. What was the point?
They walked toward the training mats in comfortable silence until Haru bumped his shoulder.
"So when are you actually going to tell us what these dreams are about? And don't say 'nightmares' again. We've moved past generic answers."
"They're not worth sharing," Aullie said. "Trust me."
"Come on, man. You're starting to sound like the brooding protagonist in some terrible anime."
"Maybe I am."
"Great. The mysterious guy with the demon cat and the dead dad." Haru grinned, but there wasn't much humor in it. "You're like one tragic revelation away from your own series."
"You're not wrong," Aullie admitted.
"If this were a manga," came a quiet voice from behind them, "Haru would definitely be the comic relief character."
Sora had appeared beside them without making a sound, close enough to Aullie that their shoulders almost brushed when they walked. She'd been doing that more often lately, staying close, like she was worried he might disappear or something.
Sora Ito had been part of their group since middle school, the quiet one who noticed everything and said just enough to keep them all grounded. Her black hair caught the morning light with an almost violet sheen, and her eyes glowed with the same purple hue, the telltale sign of an Aether morph. Changes like hers were getting more common since the barriers around Earth had shattered and let all Aether energy in, but they were still rare enough to turn heads.
Aullie tried not to notice how pretty she was. Tried not to think about the way she looked at him sometimes, or the careful way she chose her words when they were alone. He had enough complications without adding feelings to the mix.
Though with the awakening ceremony happening this week, maybe Haru would finally stop calling him a "dense protagonist."
"Excuse me," Haru said, pressing a hand to his chest in mock offense. "I would obviously be the cool rival character with hidden depths."
"Only if the rival character never actually wins anything," Aullie said with a smirk.
Sora poked him in the ribs, laughing softly. "Brutal."
"See?" Haru threw his hands up. "This is what I deal with every day. I'm surrounded by emotionally repressed fight junkies who think sarcasm counts as communication."
"And yet you never leave," Aullie pointed out.
Haru made an exaggerated show of considering this as they reached the other side of the dojo. "Yeah, well. I'm starting to question that life choice."
Sora stepped closer to Aullie, close enough that he could smell her shampoo, something floral that didn't match her practical personality at all.
"Bad night?" she asked quietly.
Aullie shrugged. "Same as always."
She nodded and didn't push, which was one of the things he liked about her. Sora understood that some things couldn't be fixed with talking, even when the not-talking was probably making everything worse.
Later in World Studies class, Aullie sat in the back with Haru and Aki, the latter had finally arrived halfway through first period.
Aki Kimura, childhood friend of Aullie and Haru, she was the spitfire of our group, the tiny tomboy with boundless energy and enough snark to keep us all in line. Aki had a cute face, with round cheeks, a button nose with bright brown hair and eyes. She also happened to be the women Haru was in love with, not that she's ever noticed and if she has never said anything about it.
Akis short brown hair was tousled from an obviously rushed shower, and as usual, her uniform jacket hung tied around her waist, though in her haste, she had buttoned it incorrectly. Aullie and Haru couldn't help but snicker at her appearance, which earned them both both a withering glare.
Professor Ayame tapped the digital board behind her, where a glowing map of Earth showed the seven great nations highlighted in gold:
"America, Russia, China, Japan, Britain, Brazil, and Egypt," she began. "Each now rules over what were once dozens of smaller, independent nations. After the Demon Invasion of 2021, unity became the only path to survival."
She gestured to a flickering section labeled 'Greenland.' It pulsed red.
"In 2026, Demonkind took Greenland. They've held it since. The war has been a stalemate for nearly twenty-five years and the last major demon incursion was ten years ago. Since then, they've been quieter, but no less dangerous."
She tapped the board again.
"Though Aether cultivation shares fundamental elements across all nations, meditation, infusion, bonding, affinites and combat enhancement; each region has developed its own distinct combat style, preferred weapons, and signature bonds."
"Americans are known for their spear arts and archery. They excel in kickboxing as their signature martial art, while forming strategic partnerships with beasts that complement their ranged attacks."
"Russians are brute-force fighters. They use heavy armor, favor axes or battle hammers, and summon siege-class monsters. Sambo is their martial art of choice."
"Egypt leans into spiritual speed-based attacks. They use the khopesh, and summon ghost-type Aether beasts. Their martial art is a variation of Dambe."
"China is famed for their Kung Fu, which they uniquely integrate with Aether. Their strikes can become blades of energy or impact like hammers. They don't often use weapons and prefer serpentine summons."
"Britain emphasizes elemental synergy. Their warriors often bond with more elemental beasts and prefer longswords. British close-combat fighters are often called spell-swords, integrating magic into their swordplay. Boxing remains their traditional martial art."
"Brazilian combatants embody animalistic forms, blending body and summon. They rarely use weapons, relying on Brazilian Jiu Jitsu and raw agility."
"And Japan," she paused, "is known for its swordsmanship - the katana, tanto, and the rare odachi. They practice Karate and Judo and excel in enhancing the body with Aether to extreme precision. Strength. Speed. Control."
Aullie absentmindedly played with his antique lockpick he always had with him. His fingers moved without thought, flipping and twirling it with a street-thief's grace he didn't remember learning. He didn't question why he needed it; he just did. His mother used to chide him for never letting it go. He never could explain why.
Whenever demons were mentioned, something in his chest tightened inexplicably. It felt like a powerful sense of foreboding, though he dismissed it as imagination, after all, he wasn't a precog.
Afternoon meant sparring class, which meant Aullie got to legally beat the shit out of people who usually looked at him like he was something they'd scrape off their boot.
Most students grabbed wooden blades from the rack. Aullie picked up a sword and dagger set, testing the weight. Perfect.
Master Kenshiro noticed, of course. "Still splitting your focus, Ikeda?"
"Why limit myself?" Aullie spun the dagger once, catching it smoothly. "Besides, variety keeps things interesting."
The instructor shook his head, probably thinking Aullie was trying too hard. Let him think that. Better to be underestimated.
Today's opponent, was Riku Tanaka. Royal class, second-year, and exactly the type of privileged asshole who thought his awakened Aether beads made him untouchable.
This is going to be fun.
"Try not to embarrass yourself too badly, half-blood," Riku said, rolling his shoulders as jeweled beads glowed faintly along his wrists.
Aullie just smiled. "I'll do my best."
The match started fast. Riku came in swinging like he was splitting firewood, all power, no finesse. His blade whistled through the air where Aullie's head had been a split second before.
Slow and Telegraphed, fucking amateur.
Aullie ducked low, sweeping Riku's legs. The royal stumbled but didn't fall, recovering with a wild backhand that caught nothing but air. His beads flared brighter, Aether crackling along the wooden blade.
There's the magic, shame it won't help.
The dagger came up, just a whisper of movement, and suddenly Riku was bleeding from a shallow cut across his wrist. He cursed, swinging again, but Aullie was already moving. Pivot, parry with the sword, step inside his guard.
Too easy.
Aullie drove his shoulder into Riku's jaw. The impact sent shockwaves up his arm, but it was worth it to see those smug eyes go wide and unfocused. Riku's legs turned to rubber, his stance crumbling.
One more, make it count.
The elbow came up clean, catching Riku right under the chin with a wet crack that made half the class wince. The royal dropped like a sack of grain, blood pooling under his split lip.
And stay down.
The training hall went dead quiet. Then the whispers started, creeping through the silence like smoke.
"Jesus, the mongrel actually did it again."
"How's an unawakened piece of trash beating someone with awakened beads?"
"It's not right. Riku's got royal blood, he should be wiping the floor with this nobody."
"Probably cheating somehow."
"Fucking freak doesn't know his place."
Spitting to the side and straightening his shoulders Aullie proceeded to ignore them, he always did. Words like that used to bother him. Used to make his fists clench and his stomach burn. Now, they were just noise, familiar, predictable, and as hollow as the pride behind them.
He knew what he was, and he knew what he wasn't.
He didn't need to prove anything. Not to them.
Later, he sat beneath a sakura tree on the east grounds, shirt damp with sweat, towel over his neck. The wind had picked up, carrying the scent of ozone.
Shinku jumped into his lap, curled up, and purred. Aullie without thought started to scratch behind his ears.
"You feel it too, don't you?" he murmured.
The cat made no noise of confirmation. But his eyes gleamed brighter than usual.
Aullie stared into the clouds gathering above the academy's outer walls. Aether storms. Too frequent lately.
"Something's coming."