(Hiratsuka Shizuka's POV)
The Monday morning hallway was a river of uniforms and shouted greetings, a chaotic current Shizuka usually navigated on autopilot.
Today, however, she was stuck near the stairwell, pretending to examine a faded club notice poster, her coffee cup held like a lifeline.
Her focus wasn't on the poster, but on a scene unfolding further down the hall.
It seemed that today, Yoshioka Akira was a magnet, and the students were iron filings
It started with Ogata Rizu and Furuhashi Fumino.
They fell into step beside him with a synchronized urgency that was comical. From her distance, Shizuka couldn't hear their words over the hallway din, but she could see everything.
Furuhashi's face was alighted with a brilliant, earnest smile as she chirped a greeting, bowing so deeply her long hair swept forward. Her expression was one of pure, unadulterated admiration. Ogata, alongside her, offered a lazy wave, but her usual mask of calculated indifference was cracked. There was a sharp, focused light in her eyes, a look of genuine intellectual engagement as she spoke. They were hanging on his every word
Akira didn't break stride. His crimson eyes flicked to each of them. Shizuka saw his lips move, a short, calm response.
Whatever he said made Furuhashi's smile somehow widen, beaming with pride, while a faint, approving smirk touched Ogata's lips.
They nodded vigorously before peeling away, looking immensely pleased with themselves as they disappeared into the crowds of students entering their classrooms
Shizuka took a slow calming sip of coffee. 'Okay, just students thanking a teacher. Normal'
But then two more figures approached. Sakurajima Mai and Yotsuya Miko.
Sakurajima, she has heard, was a mystery all on her own.
The teachers (She included) even forgot she was a student in this school until a week ago. Which is surprising since a woman with that much background, being even a model and actress from a very young age, would call the attention from, if not all, of the personnel of the school (Or at least the horny hormonal dogs of the young male kind).
She is surprised she has seen her at all in the school. And that she has been so low-key that apparently even the popular groups of the school didn't know about her. But having a detailed check of everything, they discovered that in fact she has been attending classes responsibly. Most of her homework has been submitted in time, all her test answered. But even so, they weren't graded. The teachers of her classroom instantly corrected the mistakes, to stop anything from sniffing around and discovering their supposed negligence.
The other, was only a normal student from first year. Nothing to note there.
They fell into step with him seamlessly, as if they'd rehearsed it.
Mai's expression was starkly serious. Her brows slightly furrowed in concentration as she spoke. She offered a short, sharp nod of greeting. Miko, beside her, was a picture of nervous devotion, her hands clutched in front of her, her face tilted up to his with an expression of such intense reverence it made Shizuka's stomach clench
Akira's pace slowed by a fraction. He listened, his head tilted just so. Shizuka saw his lips form their names in acknowledgment: "Sakurajima. Yotsuya." The way he looked at them was different than how he'd looked at the others. It wasn't warmer, but it was… more assessing. More focused.
Mai said something else, her expression shifting to one of fierce determination. A faint hint of colour appeared on her cheeks. Miko nodded rapidly, adding her own earnest piece.
Akira responded. His expression didn't change, but his delivery was measured, intentional. He wasn't just dismissing them; he was instructing them.
Shizuka saw his gaze sweep over them, a clinical once-over that made Mai stand even straighter and Miko flush deeper.
He added a final comment, and the effect was instantaneous. Both girls' eyes widened slightly, not with shock, but with a kind of fierce, proud understanding.
They looked… validated. Empowered.
They offered sharp, respectful bows and melted back into the crowd of students.
Shizuka stood by her useless poster, her coffee gone cold in her hand.
She didn't need to hear the words. The visual language was screamingly clear.
Something profound and personal had been forged between them. The intensity in their eyes, the way he focused on them with that unnerving totality, it spoke of a connection that went far beyond the classroom.
'How… how in the hell am I supposed to compete with that?' The thought was a bitter pill. She was their teacher. She was older. She came with baggage.
These girls were fresh, full of a potential he was clearly actively shaping, and they looked at him like he held the secrets to the universe.
What did she have to offer?
She remembered a joke one of his students said 'At this age, I have to compete with men in their 20s and 30s for girls my age'
But she also heard the contrary from an acquittance 'I have to compete against girls in their 18s and 19s for guys my age'
Her grip on the coffee cup tightened, her knuckles turning white.
No. Absolutely not.
"Fascinating, isn't it?"
Shizuka jumped. She hadn't heard Mafuyu approach. The other woman stood there, holding a tablet against her chest, her sharp eyes watching the now-empty space where the scene had transpired. A faint, knowing smile played on her lips.
"Mafuyu-san" Shizuka said, her voice coming out slightly strangled "Just students… showing respect."
"Of course," Mafuyu replied, her tone utterly flat yet dripping with unspoken implication. Her gaze flicked from the hallway to Shizuka's face, taking in her death grip on the coffee cup and undoubtedly flustered expression. "The… intensity of their respect is certainly noteworthy. It creates quite a high bar for professional rapport." The subtle tease was expertly aimed.
She paused, letting the barb sink in.
Then she tilted her head, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur that was almost lost in the hallway noise. "It does make one wonder, though. If one were to… hesitate… or perhaps take too long to make their interest known…" Her eyes glinted with cool amusement. "...well, someone else might simply step in and seize the opportunity. The school is full of dedicated educators, after all. Who's to say another teacher wouldn't appreciate the… challenge?"
The implication hung in the air between them, crystalline and sharp.
Mafuyu wasn't just teasing her about the students.
She was subtly, elegantly, announcing herself as a potential rival. The message was clear: 'Your window of opportunity is not infinite. And you are not the only one watching'
She doesn't know if she is playing with her to make her make a move, or if she is truly interested in him.
But, it's working.
Shizuka stared at her, the cold coffee forgotten. The competitive fire that had been smouldering in her chest roared to life, now fuelled by a fresh, unexpected shot of pure adrenaline.
It was one thing to compete with youth and innocence. It was another entirely to face the calculated, ice-cold precision of Mafuyu and who knows who else.
She scowled, draining the rest of her bitter coffee in one go. "I suppose it does," she repeated, her voice now laced with a new, steely resolve
Mafuyu gave a small, elegant hum of agreement, the picture of innocence. "Well, I'm sure it's… motivating to witness. Best of luck with your own… interactions, Shizuka-san" With that final, parting shot, she turned and continued down the hall, her heels clicking a soft, amused rhythm on the linoleum.
Shizuka was left alone, fuming and more determined than ever.
She looked down the empty hallway.
The man was a fortress, cool and impenetrable, surrounded by devoted acolytes and now, apparently, eyed by a fellow sniper from the faculty.
Hiratsuka Shizuka, against all better judgment, had just decided the siege started now
------------------------------
(Third Person POV)
The school day unfolded under a peculiar new rhythm, dictated almost entirely by Hiratsuka Shizuka.
Between classes, during breaks, and even for a few precious minutes before the lunch bell, she was a persistent, charmingly clumsy presence at Akira's side.
A freshly brewed cup of tea, still steaming, would appear on his desk the moment he sat down. A small bag of high-end mochi, procured from a shop she claimed was "on the way" (He knew those had to be delivered, the store is on the other side of town), were placed beside his grading stack with a casual, "Thought you might like a snack."
She plopped into the chair next to his during a free period and launched into a monologue about her terrible sleep, a movie she'd seen, the existential dread of grading essays, anything and everything, filling the air with noise simply to be near him.
Akira watched her campaign of attentions with a faint, internal amusement.
He observed the slight flush on her cheeks, the way her eyes darted away when she thought she was being too obvious, the sheer, determined effort of it all.
It was a fascinating display of strategy and vulnerability. He accepted the offerings with a quiet "Thank you, Hiratsuka-sensei" And nodded along to her stories, his crimson eyes missing nothing.
He was a silent spectator to her very obvious, very endearing siege.
The final bell rang, signalling the end of the school day and, for the moment, Shizuka's offensive.
As students flooded the halls, Akira gathered his things.
Waiting for him, just as he'd instructed them that morning, were Mai and Miko. They stood a little apart from the rushing students, their postures still carrying that new, sharp awareness.
"Sensei," Mai greeted, her voice low.
"Good afternoon," Miko added, her fingers nervously twisting together.
"You applied the exercise I told you during class" he noted, his gaze briefly assessing them. He told them that use the time during class to circulate their Curse Energy from one part of their body to another. That way, their speed of invoking their energy increased. And they have done so, he could feel their energy moving with more fluidity than in the morning. "Good. Tonight, your training moves to a practical environment. Be at the abandoned textile factory on the industrial district's west side at 09:00 p.m. Do not be late. Do not tell anyone."
The instruction was delivered with cold precision.
A real location. A specific time. This was no longer a lesson in the park
Before he could dismiss them, his eyes settled on Miko. "You had something else to tell me"
Miko jumped, surprised he'd remembered her nervous mention from the morning. "Y-yes, sensei." She took a steadying breath. "I went to a Shrine the other day. With my friend, Hana. I was wearing the glasses, so… so I couldn't see anything. But I could feel it. The entire place felt… wrong. Heavy. And cold. Like something was pressing down on my chest."
She fumbled for her phone, her hands shaking slightly. "Hana took a picture of us. I didn't think anything of it until I got home after our training and looked at it" She found the photo and turned the screen toward him. It was a typical cheerful picture of two friends at a shrine. But in the background, peering from behind a torii gate, was a distortion.
It was a grotesque, malformed thing. It was a large, multi-tailed beast with an eyeless, fox-like head. Two conical horns sprout out normal to the head and its mouth unfolds into five fang-lined sections
Mai, looking over his shoulder, recoiled slightly, a hissed "Tch" escaping her lips.
Akira's expression didn't change. He took the phone, zooming in on the aberration. "This Shrine," he murmured, his voice devoid of emotion. "This shrine doesn't exist" He said, shocking the two girls. He handed the phone back "Based on its manifested form and the pressure you described, it could be a Grade 1 Cursed Spirit. Possibly even a Special Grade, judging from the level of distortion around its form, and maybe, the shrine is its Domain"
"A… Domain?" Mai asked, the unfamiliar term hanging in the air.
"The ultimate technique of Jujutsu," Akira explained, his tone shifting into that of a lecturer delivering a grim lesson "Usually only used by skilful sorcerer, but a Cursed Spirit of sufficient power and intelligence can create its own Domain. It is a territory where its own cursed energy saturates the environment. Within its Domain, the spirit's abilities are enhanced to their absolute peak. More importantly, the Domain imposes a set of absolute rules upon reality itself, rules that favour the spirit and cripple its opponents in a technique called Domain Expansion. To be caught inside a Domain Expansion by a powerful curse is almost always a death sentence. The shrine you visited was not a place of worship. It was a predator's lair. A trap"
The blood drained from both girls' faces. The words hung in the air like a guillotine
"W-what do we do?" Miko whispered, her voice trembling.
"I will take care of it later" He stated, as if announcing he would take out the trash "It is beyond your current capabilities. For now, your only objective is to grow strong enough that such entities are not an automatic death sentence." His crimson eyes bore into them, leaving no room for argument. "Do not be late tonight"
With that final, chilling reminder, he turned and walked away, leaving the two girls standing shell-shocked in the hallway.
It was time to hit the gym after all.
--------------------------------
(Sakura Hibiki's POV)
Hibiki's eyes were glued to the bright poster tacked to the Silverman Gym's bulletin board.
It was emblazoned with a dramatic image of two muscular forearms locked in combat.
SILVERMAN GYM ARM WRESTLING TOURNAMENT!
Prize: 100,000 YEN!
A hundred thousand yen. The number danced in her head.
That was it. That was exactly the amount she needed for the amazing surround sound home theater system she'd been drooling over since morning!
"Ooh, a tournament!" Ayaka chirped, leaning over her shoulder.
"There is price money as well" Akemi mused, striking a thoughtful pose beside them
"I'm gonna do it!" Hibiki declared, puffing out her chest. "I'm gonna win that money!"
"An arm-wrestling tournament, huh?" A calm, low voice remarked from behind them.
The three girls turned in unison.
Leaning against a weight machine, taking a slow drink from a water bottle, was Yoshioka-sensei.
He was dressed in simple grey training gear that did nothing to hide his powerful build.
Ayaka, who had never seen him before, let out a tiny, choked gasp. Her eyes went wide, and her cheeks instantly flushed a deep crimson. She grabbed Hibiki's arm, whispering frantically, "Hibiki! Who is that hunk?!"
Hibiki couldn't help but grin. "That's Yoshioka-sensei! He's a teacher at Soubu High. He just joined the gym the other day"
"A… a teacher?" Ayaka whispered, her gaze darting back to him, looking utterly starstruck. "He looks like a movie star…"
Their chatter attracted the attention of Machio, who was nearby overseeing Tachibana-sensei's diligent, if slightly clumsy, efforts on a Pull-up Assisted Machine.
"Looking at the tournament poster?" Machio boomed, his perpetual smile widening. "It's gonna be a great event! The World Arm-wrestling Federation has official rules and everything now. It's a real sport!" He guided them over to a specialized arm-wrestling table set up in a corner. "See, you grip here, keep your elbow down… it's all about leverage, technique, and of course, raw power!"
"You already had everything planned, huh?" Hibiki looked at Machio flatly
"How about you two give it a try?" Machio suggested, gesturing to Hibiki and a still-flustered Ayaka.
The looked at each other and nodded.
They all stood around the table, with Tachibana-sensei, who just finished her sets, standing predictably close to Yoshioka-sensei
"I've never done this before" Hibiki said while placing her elbow on the cushioned table.
They took their positions, locking hands. Ayaka's expression turned competitive. "I won't go easy on you just because you're my friend!"
"Ready… GO!" Machio shouted.
The match lasted less than a second.
With a surprised grunt from Ayaka, Hibiki's arm slammed her friend's hand down onto the pad with a decisive thump.
Everyone stared.
"This girl, did she always had this type of power?!" Tachibana-sensei exclaimed.
"Whoa! Hibiki, that was amazing!" Ayaka cried, shaking her stinging hand but looking impressed.
"I… I did it!" Hibiki cheered, looking at her own arm in disbelief.
Akemi's competitive spirit was ignited. She stepped forward, a confident glint in her eye. "Allow me to be your next opponent, Sakura"
But Machio held up a massive hand. "Hold on! Let me test that power myself first!" He flexed playfully, rolling off his sleeve and showing his very muscular forearm "I'll be your opponent, Hibiki!"
They took their places. Hibiki's hand looked tiny wrapped around Machio's. "Ready… GO!" Akemi called out.
Hibiki strained with all her might. But moving Machio's arm was like trying to topple a mountain. It didn't budge an inch.
Then, with a friendly grin, Machio gave a gentle push.
THUMP.
Hibiki's arm was pinned. At the same moment, Machio's clothes, unable to contain the sudden flex, ripped at the seams with a comical SHRRRIP!, revealing his impossibly sculpted, gigantic muscles in all their glory.
The girls looked at the expected result
"Whoa, no contest" Ayaka added.
"How was that, Sakura-san?" Tachibana-sensei asked
"I swear I could see something weird there!" Hibiki exclaimed
It was then that Machio's eyes landed on Akira, who had been observing the proceedings with his usual placid silence. "Hey, Yoshioka-san! How about you give it a go?"
All eyes turned to Akira. He gave a slight, almost imperceptible shrug. "Very well"
He walked over and sat at the table opposite Machio.
The contrast was striking: Machio, a mountain of bulging, defined muscle, and Akira, whose power was in a frame of lean, compact muscle. They locked hands.
The air grew still.
"Ready…" Akemi said, her voice hushed. "GO!"
There was no dramatic strain. No grunt of effort.
In one fluid, instantaneous motion, Akira's arm moved. Machio's massive forearm was slammed down onto the pad with a sound that was both soft and final.
Silence.
Machio stopped, staring at his own pinned hand in genuine shock. A slow, impressed smile spread across his face. "Wow" He breathed, a rare note of pure surprise in his voice. "You are way stronger than you look. That was incredible!"
Akira released his grip and stood up "Hm," He acknowledged with a slight nod. "You are also strong"
And with that, he placed his water bottle in his bag, gave a slight nod to the stunned group, and walked out of the gym, leaving a vacuum of silence in his wake.
The girls stared after him, then at each other, then at the arm-wrestling table.
Hibiki's eyes were wide as dinner plates. The home theater system was forgotten. "Did… did that just happen?"
"He defeated Machio-san…" Ayaka whispered, her earlier crush now mixed with sheer awe.
Akemi's analytical mind was racing; her gaze fixed on the door he'd exited through. "I think not even his extensors were strained, is like he didn't use any amount of force at all"
Machio just chuckled, rubbing his wrist with a good-natured grin. "Well, I'll be! Looks like this tournament just got a lot more interesting!"
The day at the gym ended, but the image of Yoshioka Akira's effortless victory was burned into all their minds.
The upcoming tournament was no longer just about a prize. For everyone who had witnessed it, it had become a must-see event.
They were all expecting him to compete. And they couldn't wait to see what would happen
----------------------------------------
(Sakurajima Mai's POV)
The night air was cool and carried the distant, lonely sound of a train whistle. Under the weak yellow glow of a flickering streetlight,
Mai checked her phone for the tenth time. 8:58 PM. They were early.
Beside her, Miko shifted her weight from foot to foot, the nervous energy coming off her in waves. She was clutching a small convenience store bag like a talisman.
"I told my mom I was going out to the convenience store for a pudding" Miko whispered, her voice tight. She held up the bag as if presenting evidence in a court of law. "I even brought groceries so it's not a complete lie"
Mai let out a soft, breathy sound that wasn't quite a laugh. "A pudding. Right."
She didn't need an alibi since she was living alone, and her mother couldn't care less about what she was doing, unless it was going out with a boy at night
Which she was kind of doing, but it was just a technicality.
At exactly 9:00 PM, a shadow detached itself from the deeper darkness of an alleyway. There was no sound of footsteps. He was just… there.
Yoshioka-sensei
He was dressed in the same dark, functional clothes he'd worn during their brutal training session. His crimson eyes swept over them, missing no detail, from their sportswear to the grocery bag in Miko's death grip.
"You are both punctual. Good," he stated, his voice a low murmur that seemed to be absorbed by the night. "Follow."
He didn't wait for a response. He turned and walked towards the hulking, skeletal silhouette of the abandoned textile factory.
Mai and Miko exchanged a single, wide-eyed glance before falling into step behind him, their earlier nervous chatter dying instantly.
He led them to a boarded-up entrance, but one of the plywood sheets had been recently and silently pried away, creating a dark, gaping maw into the building.
The smell that wafted out was a cocktail of dust, mildew, and something else… something metallic and foul that made the hair on the back of Mai's neck stand up.
Akira stopped at the threshold, not looking back at them. His gaze was fixed on the oppressive blackness within.
"Inside, there is a Cursed Spirit," he said, his tone flat and instructional, as if he were describing the contents of a classroom cabinet. "Based on the residual energy, it is likely a Grade 3. Possibly a Grade 2 if it has grown stronger by preying on vagrants. Your objective is simple."
He finally turned to face them. His expression was utterly impassive, but his eyes held a cold, terrifying gravity.
"You will enter. You will find it. And you will kill it."
The words hung in the air, simple, brutal, and final.
A direct order. A death sentence, for the curse, or for them if they failed
Miko made a small, choked sound. Mai's own breath hitched, her heart hammering against her ribs. This was it.
The 'practical environment'. Not another drill. Not another lesson against a tree. This was real.
He was sending them into the dark to kill a monster
-----------------------------------------------
(Yotsuya Miko's POV)
The darkness inside the factory was absolute, a physical weight that pressed in on them. The only light was a sickly, phosphorescent glow from patches of mold, making the looming, silent weaving machines look like sleeping monsters.
"Can you feel it?" Mai whispered, her voice tight. Her own cursed energy was a low, thrumming silver hum beside Miko.
Miko closed her eyes, pushing past the pounding of her own heart.
She reached out with the senses that had always been a curse. And there it was. A knot of cold, greasy malice, pulsing from deeper within the vast room. "It's close" She breathed, her voice trembling. "Moving… to the left."
They crept forward, their soft-soled shoes making no sound on the gritty concrete.
"Hey" Mai whispered again, her voice a little shaky "You feel… prepared?"
Miko shook her head, a nervous gesture Mai probably couldn't even see. "No. I've never been in a fight. Not even an argument."
A short, humourless laugh escaped Mai. "I've had… verbal fights. Jealous models. Actresses who thought I stole their roles. But I never… I hate conflict. I just ignore them. It's easier that way"
They were bonding over their mutual aversion to violence while walking into a den where they would have to kill a spirit
The absurdity almost made Miko giggle hysterically.
"He's… intense," Miko said, referring to the man who'd sent them here.
"Understatement of the century," Mai muttered "But… I can't deny it. I feel stronger. My body… it's different."
"Me too," Miko admitted, a spark of pride cutting through the fear. "I'm actually getting muscles. I never thought I would."
"Tell me about it," Mai grumbled, but there was a note of pleased surprise in her voice. "I think his crazy training even made my boobs grow a size or two." In the gloom, Miko saw Mai give her own chest an experimental poke. "Weirdest side effect ever."
Before Miko could process that, a low, wet growl rumbled through the cavernous space, directly behind them.
They spun around.
It uncoiled from the shadows behind a massive loom.
It was a horrifying parody of the factory's purpose, a shambling, humanoid figure completely encased in layers of grotesque, dirt-caked silk, like a filthy mummy. Where its face should have been, ragged strips of fabric formed a twisted, screaming mouth. Two long, whip-like appendages of solidified silk lashed out from its sides.
"Down!" Mai yelled.
They both dropped, the silk whips cracking through the air where their heads had been.
"It's fast!" Miko gasped, scrambling backwards.
"Split up!" Mai commanded, her voice sharp with newfound authority "Move to opposite sides! Confuse it!"
They broke apart, darting between the silent machines.
The creature's head swivelled between them, its growls echoing. It was faster than it looked. One whip snapped out, catching Miko across the shoulder. It didn't cut, but the impact was like being struck by a rod of iron, sending a numbing shock through her body. She cried out, stumbling behind a pillar.
"Miko!" Mai shouted from across the aisle.
"I'm okay!" she yelled back, her voice shaking. She could feel the bruise already forming, but the pain sharpened her focus. She remembered Akira's training. A pipe, not a pump. Let it flow. She pushed cursed energy to her shoulder, reinforcing it. The numbness receded, replaced by a throbbing ache she could manage. Not healed, but reinforced so that the pain is less.
They moved, a chaotic dance in the dark.
They'd dash in, land a reinforced punch or a kick that made the creature stagger, and then dart away before it could counterattack. Miko's senses, gave them a half-second warning before each strike. "Left!" she'd yell, and Mai would pivot. "High!" Mai would shout, and Miko would duck
They were working together. They were actually holding their own.
Miko lunged from behind a machine, her fist a white blur. She struck the creature's leg, hearing a satisfying crunch of desiccated matter and solidified silk. The thing roared, lashing out blindly.
Mai used the opening, sliding under its guard and driving a silver-enhanced palm strike into its torso. The creature stumbled back, its form flickering.
For a glorious second, they thought they had it.
But in their moment of triumph, they got careless.
They moved in for another simultaneous strike, forgetting the creature had two whips. As Miko aimed for its injured leg, the second appendage, which had been lying still like a dead snake, suddenly came to life. It didn't aim for her. It wrapped around a loose metal pipe lying on the ground and, with terrifying force, hurled it like a javelin directly at Mai.
Mai, focused on her attack, didn't see it coming.
"MAI!" Miko screamed.
Mai turned, her eyes widening. She brought her arms up in a cross-block, reinforcing them at the last second.
CLANG!
The impact was deafening. The pipe bent against her forearms, but the force was unbelievable. It lifted her off her feet and threw her back into a towering stack of rotting cloth bobbins.
They cascaded down around her in a cloud of dust and decay, burying her in a heap.
"Mai!" Miko cried again, her heart seizing.
The creature, now focused solely on Miko, turned. Its wounded leg dragged, but it was still moving. It lunged for her, its twisted maw opening wide.
Terrified, Miko backpedalled, tripped over a cable, and fell hard on her back. The wind exploded from her lungs. She looked up, gasping for air that wouldn't come.
The creature loomed over her, its filthy, fabric-wrapped hand raising for a final, crushing blow.
"No!" Mai's voice was a raw, pained scream from the pile of debris. With a surge of effort, she shoved the rotting bobbins aside. From the ground, she grabbed a handful of the loose, dirty silk trailing from the creature's back and yanked with all her might, putting her entire weight into it. "MIKO, NOW! HIT IT!"
The creature staggered, its attention diverted, its killing strike faltering as it was pulled off balance.
This was it. This was the moment. Lying on the cold, dirty floor, staring up at the thing that wanted to kill her, Miko's mind didn't go blank. It became crystal clear
She remembered all the times she'd seen them, the spirits, the ghosts, the grotesque apparitions.
The endless, crushing fear. Holding back tears on the street, in her room, everywhere. The feeling of being a victim in a world only she could see.
'No more'
The thought was a fire in her veins.
'I won't run away anymore. I won't cry anymore. I will fight back!'
The air around her grew heavy. The world seemed to narrow to a single point: the cursed spirit before her. Her entire being, her fear, her resolve, her newfound strength—it all focused into a single, perfect, incandescent moment of understanding.
She pushed herself up on one elbow, her hand curling into a fist. White energy, pure and intense, didn't just coat her fist; it condensed around it, warping the very air.
"KOKUSEN!" she screamed, the word tearing from her throat not as a question, but as a declaration.
Her fist didn't just hit the creature. Space itself distorted around the point of impact. A flash of black lightning erupted from her knuckles.
There was no sound. Just a silent, devastating implosion of force.
THWACK!!!
The silk mummy didn't just die. It unravelled. The layers of filthy fabric disintegrated into nothingness, vaporized from the inside out by the catastrophic power of the Black Flash. A wave of putrid energy washed over them and then dissipated.
Silence.
Miko collapsed, every ounce of energy gone. Mai lay amidst the rotten cloth, staring in stunned disbelief, clutching her bruised arms.
Then, a familiar, calm presence was beside them. A hand, warm and gentle, rested on Miko's head. A soothing, golden light flowed into her, mending her bruises, replenishing her strength. Reverse Cursed Technique.
She looked up. Yoshioka Akira was kneeling next to her, his crimson eyes looking down at her. There was no smile, but the usual impassive neutrality was gone. In its place was something else… something that looked like genuine, quiet approval.
"Great job," he said, his voice low and steady. "You two finally did it."
Miko's exhausted brain, buzzing with endorphins and relief, latched onto that look in his eyes. The terrifying, deep crimson that had once frozen her in place now seemed to glow with a warm, proud light.
'Whoa' She thought, her face growing warm. 'His red eyes are… kind of hot'