The morning sun filters through classroom windows as Ryo slumps at his desk. Mei pokes her bandaged cheek gingerly while Hiroshi flinches when his pencil lead snaps - too hard, too loud.
Satoshi (leaning across desks): "Seriously though...you think that 'gas leak' story was legit?" His hands mimic an explosion.
Ryo's fingers twitch against his notebook. Yeah, if gas leaks leave claw marks in concrete. The door slides open—
A girl stands silhouetted in the doorway, her burnt-orange hair catching sunlight like warning flares. Transfer papers crinkle in her grip as she announces without being asked:
Koharu: "Shirakawa Koharu." A beat too long before adding stiffly: "...Pleased to meet you."
Her amber eyes lock onto Ryo with unsettling precision—until twin shadows materialize at her elbows like mismatched bodyguards. Hikari adjusts round glasses gleaming with menace while Tsukiko yawns around a jelly packet straw.
Mei (whispering): "Why's the scary one staring at you like that?"
Daisuke (grinning): "Maybe he finally pissed off someone actually dangerous~"
Ryo finds himself cornered near empty science labs by this bizarre trio—Koharu's intensity radiating between polite lunchbox offerings from Tsukiko ("Try this poisoned candy~") and Hikari's clinical observations ("Fascinating how little your aura resembles a Hunter's").
Koharu suddenly slams hands on either side of him, trapping him against the wall—close enough to see flecks of gold in her irises when she hisses:
"You reek of Seishu residue." Her breath smells faintly of medicinal herbs despite Tsukiko's earlier candy threat.
Hikari sighs while adjusting glasses again (The trope lives! thinks Rayo wildly) before reciting dryly:
"Direct approach rejection likelihood...98%. Recommend subterfuge."
Tsukiko giggles around another jelly pack
Ryo (trying for bravado): "What if I don't have any Seishu in me?" Her eyes narrow skeptically as Hikari smirks:
Hikari: "Well, I suppose we could always test it out. But where would the fun be in that?"
Tsukiko (nodding): "Testing is boring." Her face brightens with realization: "Hey, you should eat my candy!"
Ryo (looking from the candy to Tsukiko's hopeful face): "Uh...I think I'll pass."
Tsukiko pouts. "Why not? It's good!"
Ryo (trying to deflect): "It's... um... not for me."
Koharu's fingers twitch like she's physically restraining herself from shaking Ryo by the collar. Instead, she snaps her lunchbox shut with a click that sounds suspiciously like a knife sheath.
Koharu: "We know about your... extracurricular activities." Her glare flicks toward the window where yesterday's "gas leak" rubble still smolders. "And we know Hunters don't just leave witnesses."
Ryo tenses—but before he can bolt, Tsukiko shoves a melon bun into his mouth with terrifying cheer.
Tsukiko: "Eat first! Then talk~!" (Her smile doesn't reach her dead-eyed stare.) Hikari adjusts her glasses with a hum: "Chewing reduces fight-or-flight responses by 37%. Smart."
Ryo chokes on crumbs as Koharu leans in, voice dropping to a whisper:
"—That uniform girl tailing you? She's not human. We clocked her bandages hiding suppression runes under those sleeves. She's hunting something here... and you're either bait or collateral."
The bell rings—cutting off Ryo's strangled protest as Tsukiko suddenly yanks him upright by his tie to whisper directly into his ear:
"P.S.: If you die? Dibs on your game collection."
Ryo stumbles into the hallway still coughing up melon bun crumbs—only to collide directly with Yua, who materializes like a ghost at his elbow. Her too-perfect school uniform smells faintly of medicinal herbs beneath the starch.
Yua (too calm): "You should watch where you're going."
Her fingers brush his wrist just long enough to leave a Hunter's cipher symbol in ink on his skin before she's gone again in the crowd.
Behind him, Koharu exhales sharply through her nose:
"...That confirmed it. She's definitely not a civilian."
Hikari adjusts her glasses as Tsukiko stretches like a cat sensing prey:
Tsukiko: "Ooooh~ So do we stalk them now? Can I be a distraction?"
Ryo barely processes lunch before being cornered on the roof by Koharu's trio—this time with blueprints of recent attack sites spread between bento boxes.
Koharu stabs a finger at circled debris patterns:
"These aren't Kaimon claw marks. These are Hunter weapon clean-up jobs. Your 'new friend' is erasing evidence."
A shadow flickers near the stairwell—Yua stepping into sunlight with her hands folded politely behind her back, but eyes glacial.
Yua: "Interesting theory." She tilts her head at Koharu like assessing prey.
"...Shirakawa-san was it? You should know better than to play detective in someone else's hunting grounds."
The air thrums with Seishu static as four pairs of eyes lock—
Until Tsukiko cheerfully lobs an onigiri straight at Yua's face (intercepted midair, naturally) and chirps:
"Oops~ My hand slipped!"
In the echoing corridors, Yua's cold, measured voice breaks the tension. "You think you understand what we're dealing with because you've seen a mere fraction of Seishu's potential." She fixes her unwavering gaze on each of the trio in turn. "But let me ask you this: have you ever faced a Engetsuju?"
Koharu, Hiroshi, and Tsukiko go still, suddenly aware of how much they don't know.
"I thought not."
The wind howls between them as Yua's words hang like a blade over their necks.
Koharu (gritted teeth): "You're lying. Engetsuju are just myths Hunters use to scare rookies—"
Yua's hand flashes out—too fast to track—pressing a single finger against Koharu's sternum where her pulse hammers. "Then why," she murmurs, "...does your heartbeat sound exactly like prey who just realized the hunt is already over?"
Behind them, Tsukiko drops her jelly pack mid-sip. The sticky splatter echoes like a funeral drum in the sudden silence as Yua turns away—vanishing into shadow with one last whisper:
"...Sleep with one eye open tonight."
Ryo steps off the crowded evening train with a tired sigh, weaving through throngs of commuters. His thoughts are distant—still stuck on the rooftop and the Engetsuju bombshell Yua dropped. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, turning onto quieter streets.
But the silence is a lie; every alley is alive with shadows, every corner harbors unseen eyes. And one set of footsteps tails him, perfectly matching his stride with unnerving precision.
Ryo slows his steps, pretending to adjust his shoe as he scans the dimly lit street behind him. Nothing—yet the weight of being watched prickles at his neck like static.
"—Those three aren't just transfer students. Tsukiko's 'jokes' are too sharp, Hikari observes like she's dissecting lab specimens, and Koharu…" His fingers twitch remembering her grip—cold steel wrapped in silk. But if they're not Hunters... What game are they playing? And why target me? Unless…"
A leaf crunches too loudly to his left. Ryo doesn't turn. Instead, he ducks into a convenience store—glass doors reflecting the silhouette of a figure halting just beyond the light's edge.
Ryo steps back into the night—only for the streetlamps to gutter out one by one, plunging the sidewalk into an unnatural twilight. The air thickens with the scent of iron and burnt ozone.
Then—a single, deliberate footfall.
A boot crushes a fallen vending machine that can flat as its owner steps into view. Taller than any human has a right to be, wrapped in a tattered Hunter's kimono lined with suppression talismans, Kairos tilts his head just enough for moonlight to catch the jagged scar splitting his face from brow to jawline like lightning frozen mid-strike.
Kairos: "Running late, Kenzaki? Elders won't like that." His voice is velvet-wrapped gravel—the kind that soothes before you notice the knife between your ribs. "Though I suppose… punctuality hardly matters now." His gloved fingers flick; unseen force slams Ryo against a brick wall hard enough to crack plaster.
Blood trickles from Ryo's temple as Kairos leans in—close enough to see Seishu sparks writhing in his irises like caged fireflies:
"—Yua was sloppy, leaving trails even Shirakawa could sniff out." He tuts mockingly before straightening up with catlike ease and raising both hands..."...So let's correct that oversight. Starting with your erasure."
Ryo coughs, tasting iron as he glares up at Kairos through his blood-matted bangs. "Why the hell are you after me? I'm just—"
Kairos' boot crushes Ryo's wrist before he can finish, bone creaking under pressure. A dry chuckle escapes him as he leans down, scar twisting grotesquely with his smile.
"—Just a human? Oh no." His free hand rips open Ryo's collar—revealing faint violet veins spiderwebbing beneath his skin where Yua's Seishu once stabilized him. "You reek of borrowed power. Pathetic."
The talismans on Kairos' sleeves ignite black-and-gold as he raises a palm crackling with corrupted Seishu:
"—But useful bait. Let's see if your precious Huntress values you enough to walk into hell for you." (Cue: Forbidden Technique Activation!)
In a blaze of violet light, Ryo is thrown (like a sack of bricks!) into the alley behind the convenience store. He hits asphalt with all the grace of a truck hitting concrete, skidding across pavement. When his vision refocuses, the world seems to throb unnaturally—like everything is underwater.
Ryo tries to rise, only to gasp—falling flat as agony stabs through his torso like shattered glass. Every breath brings crimson froth as blood soaks through his uniform.
Ryo staggers upright, pain driving him forward like adrenaline personified. He stumbles down the sidewalk, leaving smears of blood with every step—trying not to puke as the world tilts like a spinning top.
Every streetlight is a blinding burst of migraine-inducing light, every alley a dizzying blur. He staggers past the same landmark for the third time—losing count of turns. Blood loss is already claiming its price.
Kairos straightens with a hiss as the voice shatters his rage. It drips like poisoned honey—familiar, but not. He looks up and, for the first time, his hands fall to his sides.
???: "How disappointing."
Kairos flinches. That simple, casual sigh contains disappointment that leaves him feeling like a scolded child.
From the shadowed doorway behind Kairos rises a tall, lean figure swathed in scarlet Hakama and silk. Pale eyes watch him with a cool detachment that borders on disgust. He twirls a fan of pure obsidian between fingers like a cat toying with prey:
???: "Yua was right. Your obsession clouds your judgment. You nearly let him slip through because you sought revenge instead of doing your job."
Kairos' jaw clenches. He hates being lectured.
Kairos bristles at the figure's accusation, snapping back:
Kairos: "Revenge? It is my duty to cull those who cross the line, and she crossed it more times than you care to admit!"
He steps forward, teeth bared to hide his uncertainty. The figure holds his gaze without a hint of concern, making Kairos' blood boil.
???: "Is that what you call it? I call it a childish tantrum."
Kairos freezes, the embers in his eyes flaring with anger and humiliation. The figure doesn't even look up from their fan as they continue, voice dripping with cold authority:
???: "You've wasted enough time playing vigilante. We have a more pressing matter at hand: the Engetsuju."
Kairos grits his teeth, frustration making his words harsh:
Kairos: "What about them?"
The figure snaps their obsidian fan shut—a sound like a guillotine dropping.
???: "Did you forget? The 6th has already manifested in this realm. Its power bleeds into the weak. And yet here you are, chasing a human instead of hunting the fox." Their lip curls with disdain. "Or did you think your grudge outweighed orders?"
Kairos' fists tremble at his sides, Seishu crackling beneath his skin like caged lightning—but he doesn't strike. The silence stretches between them until finally...
He turns on his heel with a snarl, vanishing into the night shadows without another word.
(Leaving Ryo stumbling home—unaware that things will only get worse from here on out.)
Ryo barely makes it to his rooftop before his legs give out. He leans against the chimney, breath ragged, blood streaking the tiles beneath him. His vision swims—every movement sending fresh waves of pain through his ribs.
"Shit... Gotta clean up before Dad or Rumi see this..."
With shaking hands, he forces open his bedroom window and stumbles inside, catching himself on the dresser before he collapses entirely. The shower runs cold—better for hiding bloodstains—as he peels off his ruined uniform with a grimace. Water swirls crimson down the drain.
He stares at himself in the fogged mirror—bruises already darkening across his chest, violet veins spidering where Seishu once stabilized him… Kairos' words echoing in his skull: "You reek of borrowed power."
A sharp knock at the bathroom door jolts him back to reality:
Rumi (muffled): "Bro! Dinner's getting cold!"
Ryo swallows hard and grabs a towel with hands that refuse to stop trembling.
(Fake smiles are exhausting.)
Ryo nearly dives out of his skin at Yua's voice coming from his closet. She steps out, hands on her hips with a scowl—though it falters when she sees how pale (and bruised) Ryo looks.
Yua: "What happened to you?"
Ryo avoids her gaze, clutching the towel around him like a shield. "Nothing. Just... stumbled in the dark, that's all." He's terrible at covering up.
Yua rolls her eyes at his blatant lie.
Yua: "Don't give me that. I've seen enough Hunters with broken bones and concussions to know a training accident when I see one." She steps closer, and it takes every ounce of willpower for him not to flinch.
Yua: "Show me."
Ryo hesitates. Showing her the evidence would only fuel the questions he doesn't want to answer. But her stubborn glare makes it clear she won't back down.
With a sigh, he lowers the towel just enough to reveal the worst of the bruising. For a moment, her tough front slips, and genuine worry clouds her eyes. She leans closer to inspect the bruises, the air suddenly charged between them.
Yua: "Who did this?"
Ryo jerks the towel back up, pain flashing across his face—not just from wounds, but from the lie he's about to sell.
Ryo (grinning weakly): "Really, it was just some random thugs. Got cocky, lost a fight. Nothing worth dragging you into." He laughs—too sharp, too forced.
Yua's stare bores into him, searching for cracks in his story… but before she can press further—
Loud knocking at the door.
Rumi (yelling): "HEY! You better not be hogging all the hot water!"
The moment shatters as Yua glares toward the noise while Ryo exhales in silent relief… until she suddenly grabs his wrist with unexpected gentleness:
"...I'm not done with this." Her voice is steel wrapped in velvet. "Later." Then—just like that—she slips out through his window like mist vanishing into night air... leaving behind nothing but questions and bloodstained towels.
(Now Ryo has to hide two things: His injuries and Yua's presence.)
Ryo barely has time to shove the bloodied towel under his bed before Rumi bursts in, arms crossed.
Rumi: "Seriously, what's taking so—" She freezes mid-sentence. The sharpness in her gaze shifts to something unreadable as she takes in his damp hair, the way he's angled just slightly away from her. "...You okay?"
Ryo forces a laugh, ruffling her hair—a childhood habit that usually makes her swat him away. This time, she doesn't move.
"Just tired," he lies through clenched teeth as another wave of pain shoots up his side.
For a heartbeat, neither speaks—until Rumi suddenly snatches his wrist and yanks him forward with surprising strength... revealing smeared blood under his sleeve cuff where Yua had gripped him moments earlier.
(…She knows.)
(But she says nothing as dinner chimes ring downstairs—only tightening her hold briefly before letting go.)
A figure stands in shadows, eyes glued to monitors displaying the human realm, the hunting realm, and... footage of Yua and Ryo. Their hand hovers over a complex control board, fingers dancing like they're conducting an invisible symphony. The only sound is the gentle whirring of machinery.
Suddenly, a quiet chuckle escapes them—sharp, almost inhuman—as if everything's gone exactly as planned.
"Just as predicted." Their voice, though soft, carries an unsettlingly confident edge.
Beneath the monitors, a single red button begins to light up, casting an almost hellish glow over the figure's face. A cruel smile tugs at the corners of their mouth—the mark of a plan unfolding precisely as designed.
Leaning in, the figure murmurs to the screens as if they can somehow hear:
"You're the key. You always were."
The monitors flicker—one by one, each screen blinks into black static... until only Yua's image remains, frozen in the center of the display. The camera zooms in unnaturally close to her face, capturing every detail: the stubborn furrow of her brow, the barely-there hesitation in her stance as she watches Ryo from afar.
A gloved finger traces Yua's silhouette on-screen before pressing a button with finality.
"Activation sequence complete."
The monitor holding Yua's image cracks down the middle, splitting her face into fractured halves—just as distant thunder rolls outside like a drumroll for disaster.
🌀 End Of Chapter Seventeen