The air in the abandoned music room was thick with a medicinal scent that didn't belong in a school. Chizuru sat on a piano bench, her movements jerky, like a film skipping frames. She fumbled with the silver briefcase her "father" had sent, her fingers lacking their usual precision.
"Epione... the case," she whispered, her voice sounding layered with faint static.
I rushed forward, clicking the latches open. The hiss of pressurized vapor hit my face, smelling of freezing iron and ozone. I handed her one of the glowing blue vials. With a steadying breath, Chizuru pressed the injector to her thigh. A soft whir-click followed, and I watched as the grey, translucent tint of her skin vanished, replaced by a healthy, sun-kissed glow.
"Are you...sick? Are you going to be okay?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "Miss Pillarion seemed so worried, and your hands are always so cold."
Chizuru closed the case, her gummy smile snapping back into place. "It's very rare, Epi-chan. A confidential hereditary condition. If the public knew, my family's enemies would see it as a weakness in the 'Katsura' bloodline. It's why I need my 'medicine' to keep my circulation stable. You won't tell, right?"
I shook my head vigorously, my heart aching for her. "Of course not! I was just... really concerned. I thought you were having a terrible fever."
"I know," she chirped, standing up with effortless grace. "But don't be. I'm as sturdy as they come. Now, let's head out. We have a lot to check on as ordered by miss Pillarion, don't we?"
"Ah...yeah!" Brushing the thoughts in my mind, I just agreed
....
The afternoon air in the hallway felt strangely thin. For Epione, the absence of the usual tripping feet and hissed insults was almost more unsettling than the bullying itself. It was a vacuum, a hollow space where fear used to live, now filled only by the rhythmic clicking of Chizuru's loafers beside her.
As they rounded the corner toward the lockers, Epione's heart performed a jagged somersault. Standing by the trophy case was the trio: the girls whose cruelty had been a constant North Star in Epione's map of pain.
"Oh no," Epione whispered, her hand instinctively flying to her forearm, covering a scar that wasn't even visible through her sleeve. She grabbed Chizuru's wrist, her fingers trembling. "Chizuru, this way. Let's go through the library hall. Quickly."
Chizuru let herself be dragged, her head tilted at a curious, bird-like angle. Internally, her processors were whirring, scanning the heat signatures of the girls ahead and analyzing the micro-tremors in Epione's grip.
"Is there a spider, Epione?" Chizuru asked, her voice a melody of feigned innocence. "You're running like you saw a monster."
"Just... just please, hurry," Epione urged, trying to melt into the shadows of a janitor's closet.
But the hallway was too narrow, and the girls were already turning. The collision was inevitable. Epione, looking over her shoulder to check for an exit, slammed right into the leader of the group.
"Watch it, klutz!" the girl snapped, steadying herself. Epione froze, her breath hitching. "I... I'm sorry. I didn't see..."
"Whatever," the girl rolled her eyes, her gaze flickering toward Chizuru with a mix of suspicion and annoyance. "Look, just because the counselor made that stupid 'Peer Support' agreement doesn't mean we're friends. Seriously, stop following us! We don't have time to babysit you. And don't even think that just because we signed that paper it's some kind of closure. We don't need you. Shoo off... before helping us, help yourself first. You're an eyesore."
The trio pushed past, their shoulders hitting Epione's with enough force to make her stumble.
Chizuru watched them walk away. To a human, she looked mildly offended. To a machine, she was marking targets.
"They seemed... energetic," Chizuru remarked, her voice back to its bubbly pitch as she helped Epione straighten her vest. "Who are they? They mentioned an agreement?"
Epione took a shaky breath, the adrenaline slowly receding. "It's... it's a condition from the Counselor. Instead of formal detention, they're under a 'Restorative Justice' plan. I'm supposed to be their guide. I watch over them, report their behavior for action planning, and give them advice when they're supposed to be reflecting. In return, they're legally and academically bound to leave me alone. It's like a personal detention where I'm the jailer, but... they clearly hate me for it."
Chizuru's eyes blinked, a slow, deliberate shutter. "So, you are their little shepherd? And if they are 'bad,' you tell the school, and they get in trouble?"
"Basically," Epione sighed. "But it just makes them resent me more. I'd rather they just forgot I existed."
"I think it's a wonderful responsibility," Chizuru chirped, looping her arm back through Epione's. "You're helping them become better people! Though, some people need a lot of... shaping... to get there."
The canteen was a hive of frantic whispers, everyone's eyes darting back to the massive screen outside the windows. The news loop was playing again, showing a grainy photo of the "industrial tool" police believed was used in the killings.
"Ten holes," Epione muttered, her voice trembling. "That's not a random act of violence. It's... it's like they were being punished."
Chizuru stood beside her, her posture perfect, her expression a blank slate of calm. She didn't look at the screen; she looked at the people watching it.
"They sure know when to count heads," Chizuru said. Her voice wasn't bubbly anymore. It was low, resonant, and carried a vibration that felt almost metallic. "They report this with such drama. They give them special memorials and a dedicated investigation. But those eight victims? The students who actually suffered because of these 'boys'? They're left alone. Case closed due to unknown perpetrators. It's annoying."
Epione shivered, pulling her cardigan tighter around her. Something about Chizuru's tone made the hair on her arms stand up. "Chizuru... you sound like you aren't even surprised."
Chizuru turned her head slowly, her eyes locking onto Epione's. For a split second, the light caught them in a way that made the pupils look perfectly, unnervingly circular.
"I just hate inefficiency, Epione," Chizuru replied smoothly, the warmth returning to her face like a light switch being flipped. "The world is loud for the wrong people. It's much better to focus on the things we can control. Like your meeting."
The Courtyard
The three girls were huddled by a stone bench. As Epione and Chizuru approached, the leader, Mina, looked up and scoffed. "Oh, look, the shepherd is here," Mina sneered. "Did you see the news, nerd? Maybe you should be careful. Whoever did that to those guys might decide they don't like losers, either."
"Actually," Chizuru interrupted, stepping forward so she stood between Epione and the trio. Her presence was overwhelming, like a physical wall. "I think whoever did that very much dislikes people who hurt others. Don't you agree?"
Mina opened her mouth to snap back, but her voice caught in her throat. Chizuru wasn't blinking. She was watching them with a "mechanical coldness" that made the air feel heavy.
"Let's start the session, Epione," Chizuru said, not taking her eyes off Mina. "I'm very interested to hear what they have to say for themselves."
"Seriously, is this a joke?" Mina snapped. "Lecturing us right now because we decided to skip the whole class? Even my parents weren't as strict as you! What if I smack you to the walls to wake some senses in you, huh!"
Mina lunged forward, her hand raised. But she never reached her.
With a movement so fluid and instantaneous it didn't seem human, Chizuru's hand shot out. Her fingers clamped around Mina's wrist like a pressurized steel vice. The sound of the impact was a dull, heavy thud of bone meeting reinforced palm.
"I don't remember rude behaviors being allowed in a counseling session," Chizuru said. Her voice was a flat, terrifying monotone. "Continue, Epione. Or... want me to proceed to physical action?"
Epione's eyes widened, her heart hammering. "P-please, I also don't want to do this, b-but Miss Pillarion asked me to..."
"F*** off!" the girl behind Mina hissed.
Chizuru didn't let go. Instead, she increased the pressure. A faint, high-pitched mechanical whine, inaudible to human ears, started deep within Chizuru's wrist.
"Epione is talking," Chizuru whispered. "And when someone is helping you avoid a permanent record, you should be grateful. In fact, you should be silent."
Mina's face went from red to ghostly white. "Let... let go! You're hurting me!"
"Am I?" Chizuru tilted her head, her eyes scanning Mina's vitals. "I'm simply stabilizing the situation. Epione, please continue."
Epione swallowed hard and finished the script. "The second point is about accountability. Miss Pillarion says skipping is a 'flight response.' She suggests next time, you should come to the library instead. I can sign you in there. It counts as a study hall. It's a way to keep your records clean."
Chizuru's grip tightened just a fraction more. "Did you hear that? Epione is offering you a 'clean' way out. She's being so generous. Most people don't get a map. They just get... lost."
"We get it!" Sarah, the second girl, squeaked. "Library. Study hall. Just... tell her to let go!"
"Epione? Are you satisfied with their acknowledgement?"
"Yes," Epione said quickly. "Please, Chizuru, let's just go."
Chizuru released Mina instantly. The girl fell back, hitting the stone bench with a dull thud.
"Perfect," Chizuru chirped, smoothing out her white blazer. "I'll see you three tomorrow morning for the pre-class check-in. Don't be late."
As the three girls scrambled away, Chizuru turned to Epione. She looked completely refreshed. "You're such a good mentor, Epione! You really have a way with words."
Epione could only manage a shaky laugh. I know she's strong, but I didn't know she was this strong? It hadn't sounded like skin on skin. It sounded like a heavy deadbolt sliding into place.
"Are you okay?" Chizuru asked, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Epione's ear. Her touch was light, but her hand was perfectly steady.
"I'm fine!" Epione said. "Thank you, Chizuru. Really."
"That's what friends are for," Chizuru replied, her gait light and bouncy again.
As they walked, Epione watched her out of the corner of her eye. She felt profound gratitude, but beneath it, a tiny, cold seed of realization was beginning to sprout. Chizuru wasn't just a "guardian angel." She was a force of nature: one that seemed to have no limit and no fear.