A sharp, ringing crack that split her awareness in two. Something warm spilled down her upper lip shockingly fast, and the world tilted sideways. When her vision steadied, she found herself on the floor, her palm pressed against the cold tile.
Her nose throbbed in time with her heartbeat.
And standing above her smirking was Sophia Ayase, flanked by 3 girls who always followed half a step behind. She flexed her knuckles. There was a red mark across them, fresh, blooming like a rose.
Sophia: "Oops. You should watch where you're walking, Shinatsu."
The girls behind her giggled in that sharp, glassy way meant to cut rather than amuse.
Shinatsu breathed slowly. She didn't rise. Not yet.
Students in the hallway froze. Heads turned. Whispers ricocheted off walls like thrown stones.
Sophia bent down, her shadow casting itself neatly across Shinatsu's face: "Stand up," she said, almost bored. "I'm not finished."
Shinatsu wiped her nose with her thumb. Blood smeared across her skin. She stared at it quietly, the color stark against her usually pale hands.
She wasn't angry yet.
Just… processing.
Shinatsu finally looked up.
Sophia's grin widened and she whispered into her ear: "You don't belong here. Just like your reject sister who ran away. She's probably dead in some alleyway, wouldn't you say?"
The world snapped.
Something deep inside Shinatsu, something carefully contained, something she had trained for years to bury burst open with the quiet finality of a breaking bone.
She rose to her feet.
The movement was slow. Controlled. Empty.
This was Sophia's intention. To instigate her, and get her expelled.
Sophia: "What's with that look?"
Then Shinatsu moved.
Her hand shot forward, grabbing Sophia by the collar before the girl could gasp. With a twist of her hip, she slammed Sophia against the wall. Students screamed more from shock than danger as the impact echoed through the corridor. Sophia's lackeys reached toward Shinatsu, but froze when she turned her head sharply toward them. That single glare rooted them in place.
Shinatsu struck. Her punch sank into Sophia's stomach, knocking the breath out of her lungs. Sophia collapsed to her knees, coughing violently.
The hallway exploded with noise.
"Holy crap."
"Shinatsu snapped!"
"Someone do something!"
She knelt down on the floor and started wailing on Sophia. Shinatsu's knuckles stung, but she didn't care.
Sophia's lips twisted into a smile before she began her act: "Y-you psycho! You're seriously crazy—!"
Shinatsu grabbed her again, lifting her by the collar as if her limbs were weightless. She kept on striking. Sophia thought she would've stopped by now, so she tries to fight back. Her fists flew at Shinatsu sloppily. Shinatsu dodged one, blocked another, then pinned her against the floor with a knee. Everything after that blurred into quick, efficient blows that sent Sophia scrambling, trying to claw her way out of something she had started without understanding.
Shinatsu didn't go berserk in the sense.
She didn't scream.
She didn't strike wildly.
She was frightening because she didn't lose control.
Each movement was clean. Each hit was precise. Each dodge was with ease. It was the form of someone trained by a powerful family, albeit against their will, and someone trying very, very hard not to think.
It wasn't revenge.
It wasn't pride.
It was the collapse of a dam she had built for years.
And once the flood started, she couldn't stop it.
Students backed away as the scene unfolded, a circle widening around the two girls as if Shinatsu radiated a force that pushed others back.
Sophia: "Stop—!" She choked out. "Stop—! I'll—!"
Another blow. Sophia's head hit the floor hard enough to daze her.
Then—
"Enough!"
Two teachers finally burst through the ring of students.
One grabbed Shinatsu's wrist. The other hauled Sophia upright.
Shinatsu didn't resist as they pulled her away.
Sophia, bruised bloody and gasping, pointed at her furiously.
The teachers exchanged looks.
"Both of you are coming with us."
Shinatsu didn't look at Sophia.
Sophia didn't stop glaring.
The hallway split with whispers as they were escorted away.
They were led to a waiting room just outside the principal's office. A small space with two chairs, a clock ticking too loudly, and walls that felt like they were leaning inward.
Shinatsu sat down. Her bruised hands were folded neatly in her lap. Blood still stained her upper lip.
Sophia sat across from her, clutching a cold pack to her head. She looked furious. She waited until the teachers left the room. Then leaned forward, whispering sharply: "You're going to take the blame."
Shinatsu didn't respond.
Sophia smirked, regaining that confident cruelty little by little: "Because if you don't," she said sweetly, "my friends and I? We're going to make your friends' lives hell. Every. Single. Day. Even after graduation."
Shinatsu stared at her hands.
They were steady.
She wasn't sure if that should comfort or frighten her.
Sophia continued, voice dripping poison: "And my family? You know exactly what strings they can pull. Wouldn't want them getting involved in something ugly, right?"
Silence.
The clock ticked.
Outside, footsteps passed down the hall, muted and careless.
Inside, Shinatsu's world shrank to a tight knot of inevitability.
She saw each of her friends' faces. Their laughter. Their support.
She saw all of that weighed against her own name.
Her own future.
The future she had hoped not to hate.
The past she wished she could cut away from herself.
Sophia leaned in until her breath brushed Shinatsu's ear: "So go on. Take responsibility."
Shinatsu closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, the void inside had stabilized into something calm.
Not defeat.
Acceptance.
The principal opened the door.
"Girls," he said. "Let's talk."
Sophia straightened smugly.
Shinatsu stood.
Inside the office, they sat across from the principal—an older man with a stern expression, hair pulled back neatly, fingers steepled on the desk.
"Explain what happened," he said simply.
Sophia inhaled dramatically: "Shinatsu attacked me."
The lie came effortlessly. Smooth. Rehearsed.
The principal raised an eyebrow and turned to Shinatsu: "Is this true?"
Shinatsu felt Sophia's stare like a knife at her throat. Her friends' faces passed through her mind again.
Dakota awkwardly smiling.
Erika's bright, warm smile.
Sylvie's gentle encouragement.
Austin's easy jokes.
Remi's playful teasing.
Yuji being… nonchalant?
Marlon's rough but earnest nature.
Sota's earnest admiration.
Esmarie's compassionate chaos.
All the people she could protect by saying one sentence.
So Shinatsu bowed her head: "…Yes." The word left her mouth without hesitation. "I attacked her."
Sophia smiled triumphantly.
The principal let out a slow, disappointed sigh: "Shinatsu Boreas," he said, voice heavy, "you will be expelled. Effective immediately."
Sophia's satisfaction glowed like a lantern.
Shinatsu simply nodded.
There was no tremble.
No shock.
No pleading.
Just a quiet acceptance, as if she had known the world would take something else from her.
The office door clicked shut behind Shinatsu with a soft finality.
***
A car was waiting for her.
Her family's car.
A black luxury vehicle with tinted windows, polished enough that she could see her reflection in the mirror, disheveled hair, dried blood on her face, and an unreadable expression.
The chauffeur stepped out and bowed: "Young Lady Shinatsu," he said solemnly. "Your father has been informed."
Shinatsu opened the door and got in.
The interior smelled like expensive leather and silence.
She rested her head against the window as the car pulled away from the academy. Her eyes drifted to the sky, empty and waiting to rain.
She wondered if her friends were in class right now.
The car made its way to the airport, where a private plane would then make its way toward the Boreas estate. She'd grown up here, but she'd never felt like she belonged, not to the heartless walls, not to the wealth, not to the unreachable expectations dripping from every chandelier.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
Shinatsu ignored it at first.
It buzzed again.
And again.
Finally, she pulled it out. The screen flashed with notifications—missed calls and unread messages.
Erika: Shinatsu where are you?
Sylvie: Are you okay? You didn't come to class??
Esmarie: HELLO??? Answer me or I'm breaking into your dorm
Dakota: Shinatsu? Everything alright?
Austin: Everyone's worried, text someone
Remi: Did something happen?
Yuji: What happened
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.
She could tell them the truth. She could ask them to fight this, to support her, to help expose Sophia's lies.
But then she remembered Sophia's voice, crisp and malicious threats.
Her hands went still.
The phone buzzed again.
A final message from Erika appeared.
Erika: I'll come find you. Just tell me where you are.
Shinatsu stared at the screen until her reflection blurred. Then clicked it off.
Her hand trembled.
But only once.
She tucked the phone away.
After hours that seemed to stretch endlessly, they arrived.
The Boreas estate was larger than the Hunter Academy campus, several times more. Marble floors, towering ceilings, halls long enough to get lost in. A place where silence wasn't peaceful.
Her father was waiting in his study. Donovan Boreas.
He didn't shout. He didn't scold. He didn't even stand. He simply looked at her over his glasses, disappointment lining his eyes in that cold, formal way that meant she had tarnished the Boreas name again.
"So," he said quietly. "You allowed your emotions to control you."
Shinatsu didn't answer. There was nothing to defend. Nothing she cared to justify.
He sighed: "You are officially expelled," he said. "But privately, you will be granted early graduation."
Shinatsu blinked: "…Early graduation?"
Her father nodded: "You are too valuable, too well-trained to waste." He lifted a pen from his desk, turning it between his fingers. "You will not return to the academy. You will not embarrass us again." His tone chilled. "Understood?"
Shinatsu felt her friends slip away like sand between her fingers.
She bowed her head: "…Understood."
Donovan: "Amelia will see you soon to follow up. You may leave now."
***
Shinatsu's room had always been too big for her. Too neat. Too cold. Today, it felt suffocating. She stared at her uniform lying draped over a chair, sitting on her bed, pulling her knees to her chest, resting her forehead against them.
No tears came.
Not yet.
Instead, she felt a quiet, heavy ache filling the spaces the academy had carved open in her. The hush after a storm.
She didn't realize how badly she was shaking until she heard her own breath break.
Slow.
Uneven.
Human.
Shinatsu lifted her head, staring blankly at the wall: "…I didn't get to say goodbye."
The words felt fragile, like if she said them any louder they'd shatter.
Her phone buzzed again.
She had set it aside, facedown, but she didn't need to see the screen to know who it was.
She reached for it.
Then stopped.
Her friends deserved to know the truth.
But if she told them, they'd come for her. They'd fight. They'd dig. They'd try to make things right.
And that would destroy them.
Sophia wasn't bluffing. People like her never did.
Shinatsu closed her eyes and exhaled shakily: "…I'm sorry."
At the academy the next morning, news spread like wildfire.
"Did you hear? Shinatsu got expelled."
"For beating up Sophia? Seriously?"
"I thought she was too calm for something like that…"
"I heard Sophia provoked her."
"I heard Shinatsu threw the first punch."
"No way—didn't Sophia have teachers in her pocket?"
Erika heard the rumors before she even reached her classroom. She froze mid-step, books held loosely in her hands. Students parted around her like she was made of glass. Behind her, Sylvie covered her mouth in shock. Esmarie's eyes filled with panic. Dakota stood utterly still, like his brain refused to process the information. Yuji clenched his jaw hard enough to crack enamel. Austin looked unusually serious. Remi put a hand over her heart as if trying to calm the sudden ache.
For several seconds, no one spoke.
Finally, Esmarie whispered: "…This has to be a mistake."
Dakota's voice wavered: "She didn't even… say anything to us."
Erika shook her head slowly, eyes dimming: "She didn't want to get us involved."
Yuji closed his eyes, as if everything suddenly clicked into place: "…She took the blame," he muttered. "That idiot."
Sylvie: "She doesn't deserve this."
Esmarie buried her face in her hands: "So she's gone, just like that."
A tear slid down Erika's cheek. Dakota wiped his eyes quickly, pretending he wasn't crying. For the first time since they'd met her, they understood just how deeply Shinatsu had cared. And now she was gone.
Not by weakness. But by sacrifice.
The kind only someone with a quiet, lonely heart would make.
The bell rang. Class was starting. Life moved on.
But their small world, their group, their everyday had a missing piece now.
And none of them knew when, or if, they would see her again.
***
A knock on Shinatsu's door woke her up. She didn't bother to check the time, but it was clearly past midnight. Without waiting for an answer, the door was opened.
"Yo. Been a while, Shinatsu. Heard you've been up to no good."
Shinatsu: "Nice to see you too."
Amelia: "How's the family bastard been?"
Shinatsu: "…."
Amelia: "Let's go for a walk."
Shinatsu walked beside her aunt Amelia through the moonlit garden path, their footsteps quiet against the polished stone. The night air was thin and silver, carrying the faint scent of evergreens that lined the estate's perimeter like silent guards. Lanterns hung from curved iron posts, glowing with a pale blue flame unique to the Boreas lineage, casting long streaks of cold light along the walkway.
The estate stretched on and on, marble courtyards, trimmed hedges carved into swans, a greenhouse full of rare northern flowers that only bloomed under moonlight. The main house towered behind them, all pillars and glass and immaculate arches, as if someone sculpted pride itself into architecture.
Shinatsu kept her hands in her coat pockets, her breath drifting in white wisps. She had been quiet since arriving home… but that had always been her default. Tonight, though, she was quieter in a way even she could feel. Empty, as if the expulsion, the fight, and the forced early graduation had drained something she didn't have much of in the first place.
Amelia's heels clicked softly against the stone. She's the perfect Boreas woman: tall, extravagant, hair tied back in an icy braid, coat pristine white, voice calm enough to cut without ever raising in volume.
Amelia: You've grown," she said as they passed the frost-lit koi pond. Her tone made the statement sound like a weather report. "Not physically. But something in your eyes changed."
Shinatsu didn't answer. Amelia rarely commented without purpose.
Amelia: "As expected," she continued, looking ahead. "Trauma ripens discipline."
Shinatsu felt her jaw tighten but kept her expression controlled. She didn't trust herself to speak. They rounded a corner where the garden opened into a long path framed by tall boreal trees, their branches forming an arch above them. The moonlight filtered through, fragmented like scattered diamonds.
Amelia: You will begin your official duties as a Hunter in a few days."
Shinatsu nodded. She had known that much already.
But Amelia slowed her pace, then stopped. Her eyes icy, shifted toward Shinatsu: "There is a mission I want you to take on."
Shinatsu: "…A mission?"
Amelia's lips curved into a faint, unreadable smile: "Something that will give purpose to your life."
Purpose. The word felt heavy. It felt like a blade.
Amelia: "You will join Odd Jobs."
Shinatsu twitched. The Odd Jobs that Chifuyu, Iris, and Ariel joined? It couldn't be a coincidence, so she played along: "Odd Jobs? That… independent Hunter group?"
Amelia: "Correct. My dear sister Ina runs it. She will welcome you without question." Amelia clasped her hands behind her back. "You will go there, integrate yourself, and observe."
Shinatsu: "Observe what?"
Amelia's gaze sharpened like ice fracturing: "The Vampire Lord and the half-vampire hiding among the Hunter ranks."
The night seemed to still. Even the distant wind quieted.
Shinatsu continued to play along: Aunt… are you certain?"
Amelia: "Of course. I want you to expose them. Confirm who they are. Report back. The Boreas family has tolerated enough uncertainty."
Shinatsu felt a chill crawl up her spine that had nothing to do with the night air: "And if I can't?" she asked quietly.
Amelia stepped closer. Her hand rested gently on Shinatsu's shoulder, a gesture that might have been comforting from anyone else, but from Amelia, it felt like a weight being placed there: "Then you have no place in the Boreas family."
Shinatsu's throat felt tight. The Boreas name had been both her burden and her shield since birth. Now it was a chain. A threat. A command wrapped in velvet.
Shinatsu: "…I understand," she said, because she had no other choice.
Amelia smiled again, the faint smile she wore when plans aligned exactly as she intended: "Good girl."
They resumed walking, the path stretching long and pale ahead of them. The lanterns flickered as if affected by the shift in the air. Shinatsu didn't look at her aunt again. Her gaze stayed fixed on the moonlight reflecting off the stone, unfocused and distant.
She had just been expelled. She had just lost her place at the Academy, her friends, her routine, the fragile little world she had grown used to.
Now, she was being thrown into something bigger. Dangerous. Her steps remained steady, but inside her chest something trembled.
Would she sell them out? Shinatsu knew she couldn't. Especially with Iris there, the one who saved her without knowing back in middle school. She walked on, the Boreas estate silent around her, its beauty cold and unyielding, just like the path laid out in front of her.
After returning to the living quarters, Shinatsu stood alone on the balcony outside her room, the marble railing cold beneath her palms. The estate was silent, its perfect order pressing against her lungs more tightly than the night air. She pulled the cigarette from her coat pocket, the one she'd quietly lifted from a housekeeper's tray on her way upstairs. She'd never smoked before, but tonight the forbidden act felt like the only thing that was hers. She lit it with trembling fingers, inhaling sharply. The burn scraped her throat, harsh and unfamiliar, yet grounding. As she exhaled, the smoke drifted into the moonlight like a sigh she couldn't voice, fleeting and gone before anyone could notice she was breaking.