The Morning After – Walking to School in Silence
Ryo keeps his hands shoved deep in his pockets, shoulders tense. The air between the three of them is heavy—like they're all replaying that moment from last night.
Kyou is the first to break it with a scoff.
"You two look like you saw ghosts." (Typical.)
"He was just trying to psych us out." (Confident, but there's an edge beneath it.)
Yua doesn't buy that for a second, fingers twisting the hem of her sleeve (a nervous habit she refuses to admit).
"Kairos doesn't bluff." (Low.)
"…He has something planned." (Unspoken: And we're not ready.)
Ryo kicks a pebble across the pavement—irritated at himself for letting that bastard get under his skin. He exhales sharply through his nose before muttering:
"Yeah? Well next time he shows up, we kick his teeth in." (Simple logic.)
Yua throws him an exasperated look but can't help huffing—almost amused despite herself. Kyou smirks like he approves of the sentiment (even if he'd never say it out loud). For now… things feel normal again.
They step into campus just as whispers erupt like wildfire through the crowd. Students are clustered together, some pointing toward where three unfamiliar figures stand near the entrance. One girl with cold green eyes and long black hair tied into a single ponytail; beside her are two brothers—one sharp as ice with white shards for hair and yellow eyes, and another broader figure with dreads, arms wrapped in bandages, with twin chains around his neck (now hidden beneath uniform blazers)... but their presence alone radiates danger.
Yua freezes midstep when she recognizes them —her heartbeat suddenly too loud against her ribs.
They escaped Seishiro Temple alive.
Which means they know exactly who she is.
And more importantly—
(Why did they come here?)
The dreadlocked brother cracks his neck lazily while scanning faces until his gaze locks onto Ryo.
Ryo tenses when the brother's eyes land on him—not aggressive, but not friendly either. Just assessing, like a wolf sizing up prey. Beside him, Kyou's fingers twitch instinctively toward where his weapon would be (if they weren't in school).
The whitehaired one leans in to mutter something to the girl with the cleaver. She doesn't react outwardly—but her gaze flicks to Yua. (That subtle recognition is enough.)
Meanwhile, Mei and Hiroshi push through the crowd toward Ryo's group.
"Who are those guys?" Mei whispers loudly (subtle as a fire alarm).
"Transfers," Satoshi supplies dryly—eyeing them like he already suspects trouble brewing beneath their polite facades.
Ryo grunts noncommittally (lying poorly through his teeth again) as Kyou watches their every move with thinly veiled hostility:
"Wonderful," he drawls sarcastically under his breath. "More problems."
Yua says nothing—just clenches her fists at her sides.
(Because she knows.)
They didn't just come here by accident.
This was intentional.
And whatever they're after... It starts now.
As the bell rings, the three hunters disappear into the sea of students—but their presence lingers like a bad omen. Yua exhales sharply through her nose, shoulders tense.
Kyou observes them go with narrowed eyes before muttering:
"Hunters don't 'transfer schools' for fun." (A silent agreement passes between them.)
"They're here for something." (Or someone.)
Ryo grits his teeth, fists clenching at his sides. The last thing he needs is more supernatural drama crashing into his already chaotic life—especially when his friends are now caught in the crossfire.
The new students blend in seamlessly. Yua watches them settle into their classes—their too calm faces and unassuming smiles putting everyone at ease.
Except her.
Every time she gets a glimpse of them in the halls, her heartrate spikes. Every time their gazes connect for a fraction of a second…
Yua quickly looks away. (It's almost instinctual now.)
They aren't acting openly aggressive, but the underlying tension has everyone unnerved.
The school day drags on, each minute agonizingly slow. With the added tension, the whispers grow louder, spreading like wildfire.
By lunch, the entire school is buzzing—speculating, gossiping, creating rumors about the newcomers.
Some students are curious; others outright suspicious.
Meanwhile, Yua can't seem to focus. She stabs her food aggressively, stabbing more than eating. (An outlet for her building anxiety.)
Ryo watches Yua murder her lunch with a plastic fork—like it personally offended her. He considers saying something, but one sharp glance from Kyou shuts that idea down fast. (Smart move.)
Best to leave sleeping dragons alone.
Instead, he exchanges a look with Mei and Hiroshi—both clearly noticing the mood but smart enough not to poke at it. (For now.) Satoshi just sighs and takes another bite of his food like this is all completely normal. (Delusional coping mechanism? Maybe.)
The tension is suffocating… until—
A shadow falls over their table. The dreadlocked hunter stands there—looming like he was waiting for this exact moment to make his move. His chains peek out slightly from under his collar as he leans forward, grinning down at them all with far too much amusement.
"Mind if I join you?" (Not actually asking.)
(A Dangerous Welcome – The Game Begins)
Ryo opens his mouth to shut it down—but Yua beats him to it.
She looks up with a smile so sweet it's terrifying.
"Of course! How lovely of you to ask." (Absolute poison laced in pleasantries.)
Kyou's brow twitches—since when does she sound like that?! Even Ryo blinks, caught off guard. Mei and Hiroshi exchange confused glances, but Satoshi just adjusts his glasses (this might as well happen at this point).
The hunter takes the seat beside Yua without hesitation, grinning like he knows exactly what game they're playing.
"Glad we understand each other," he murmurs, low enough that only the three of them hear.
Yua's grip on her fork tightens—but her smile doesn't falter.
(Challenge accepted.)
The dreadlocked hunter leans back in his seat, chains glinting faintly as he drapes an arm over the back of Yua's chair—too close to be polite.
"So," he starts, voice smooth but laced with something dangerous. "You're the ones causing trouble around here." (A statement, not a question.)
Kyou's eyes narrow—ready to flip the table if needed. Ryo tenses beside him (instinct screaming that this guy is bad news). But Yua?
She tilts her head innocently.
"Trouble? Us?" (Sugarcoated deception.)
"We're just normal students." (The lie is so blatant it's almost impressive.)
The hunter laughs—a low, rumbling sound that doesn't reach his cold stare.
"Sure you are." (Mocking.) "...Let's keep playing then."
Mei and Hiroshi glance between them all like they've missed half the conversation (they have). Satoshi just takes another slow bite of his food like this is fine. Totally fine. (Denial: Stronger than steel.)
As if summoned by the tension, the whitehaired brother appears, sitting behind the hunter, and the girl with the cleaver takes the seat beside Yua.
The entire group goes silent—a tense stillness so sharp it's almost tangible.
"...Well, this is cozy." (Kyou, breaking the tension like smashing glass.)
The hunter chuckles, leaning even closer to Yua. The brother just scans the table like he's calculating every possible move. The girl simply sits... silently watching them all.
The dreadlocked hunter smirks, lazily spinning one of his chains around his finger.
"Rude of us to not introduce ourselves." (Mocksincere.)
"I'm Oboro." (Meaning 'Haze'—fitting for a shadow that slips through fingers.)
The whitehaired brother folds his arms, voice flat but carrying an icy sharpness.
"Yukimaru." ('Snow Circle'—cold, unyielding precision.)
The greeneyed girl doesn't speak at first. Just stares directly into Yua's soul before finally offering:
"...Kusuri." (Meaning 'Medicine.' Deadly if misused.)
(No last names given—no clan ties revealed. A calculated move.)
Kyou scoffs under his breath: "'Oboro,' huh? Sounds like you wandered out of a bad ghost story." (Baiting them openly.)
Yukimaru's gaze cuts to him like a blade. "And you sound like someone who talks too much for their own good." (A silent threat beneath courtesy.)
Ryo goes first, voice gruff but controlled.
"Ryo." (No last name given—playing it safe.)
Kyou leans back, smirking with deliberate arrogance.
"Kyou Ren."
Then comes Yua. She meets Kusuri's stare deadon—no hesitation, no fear.
"Yua Aihara." (Full name spoken like a challenge.) "...I assume you already knew that."
A beat of silence. The three hunters exchange glances—briefly caught off guard by her boldness before Oboro grins again, this time sharper than ever.
"Direct. I like that." (Translation: Interesting prey.)
Oboro leans toward Yua—so close that if she exhaled, they would almost be touching.
"You don't seem that worried," he hums, eyes glinting. "Not like the rest of your gang."
"Most people avoid hunters when they're in town." (Musing out loud.)
Kyou scoffs—more annoyed than cautious.
"Maybe most people just have better survival instincts than you." (Baiting the hunters.)
Oboro's smirk widens, unfazed. "Survival instincts?" He chuckles—low, dangerous. "You mistake me for someone who needs to be careful."
Yukimaru watches silently, but his fingers twitch—like he's itching to draw a blade. Kusuri hasn't moved an inch; her stare stays locked on Yua like she's already mapping out every possible way this fight could go.
Meanwhile, Mei leans over and whispers loudly:
"...Are they in a gang?" (Completely missing the point.)
Satoshi sighs like he's aged 10 years in 5 seconds: "Something like that." (He wishes it were that simple.)
Ryo grips his chopsticks too tight—ready to throw hands if this escalates further... when suddenly—
(Misunderstands, Misjudges – Accidental Insult)
Oboro turns his cold gaze onto Mei, who blinks in confusion—totally oblivious to the sudden shift in the air.
"...What?", she asks, completely thrown off by his cold stare. (Misreading the tension entirely.)
Kyou grimaces, trying to signal Mei to not engage, but before he can say anything—
"Did you just call me a gang member?" Oboro says, voice low and dangerous. (Misinterpreting the comment completely.)
Mei's eyes go wide as she realizes exactly where Oboro's mind went with her comment. Panic sets in.
"NNO! I didn't mean—I wasn't implying—!" (Flailing arms wildly.)
"I swear I just thought you were like… a delinquent club or something!!" (Desperate backpedaling.)
For a second, the tension hangs thick in the air… until Oboro suddenly barks out a loud laugh, shaking his head like this is the funniest misunderstanding he's had all week.
"Relax, relax," he says, still grinning. (Amused now rather than pissed.)
"You're lucky I don't take offense easy." (A warning disguised as casual words.)
Mei exhales sharply—near tears from sheer relief. Satoshi pinches the bridge of his nose (why is this his life?) while Kyou watches with mild disbelief that that actually worked. Ryo just sighs and takes another bite of food like none of this happened. (Denial: Stronger than steel.)
Oboro pauses, feeling the sudden cold from Ryo's direction. He glances at him—eyes narrowing.
"What?? You got a problem?" (Confused, a little annoyed.)
Kyou bristles beside him, hands twitching like he's expecting a fight. But it's Yua who answers for him first, speaking with a voice that'd freeze demons in their tracks:
"Don't push your luck," she warns in a low tone. (No fear. No politeness now.)
Ryo's voice is slow, deliberate, every syllable dripping with threat.
"Don't."
"Ever."
"Mess with my friend again."
The air around them goes deathly still. Even the background chatter of the cafeteria fades into a dull hum—like everyone somehow sensed the danger radiating off Ryo in waves.
Oboro doesn't back down, but his smirk is gone now—replaced by something more cautious, assessing. He leans back slightly (first concession) before chuckling low under his breath.
"...Fair enough." (Not an apology—just an acknowledgment.) "Didn't realize she mattered that much to you."
The last bell rings, signaling the end of another long day of classes. The school hallways fill with chatter and the sounds of shoes scuffing along linoleum as the students start to head home.
Ryo, Yua, and Kyou push their way through the crowd, weaving past groups of students exchanging gossip and making plans for the weekend. They make it outside, the cool autumn air a welcome change from the stuffy confines of the school. Yua exhales deeply, like she can finally breathe again.
They start walking—the route home as familiar as breathing by now. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows across the sidewalk. The sound of cars passing by and distant voices fills the air.
Yua walks in the middle, her hands shoved into her pockets. She's unusually subdued. (Something's been weighing on her. Something bigger than school stress or the whole thing in the cafeteria.)
Ryo slows to a stop as the three faces appear a few steps ahead, blocking their path. Oboro leans casually against a tree, fingers twirling a knife—almost like he was waiting for them. Yukimaru stands at his side, arms crossed; Kusuri lingers in the shadow cast by a nearby building, eyes cold.
"Going somewhere?" (Oboro asks with a smirk.)
Ryo huffs out a short, almost amused chuckle upon seeing the trio. He meets Oboro's gaze evenly (unflinching).
"What do you want?"
Kyou bristles beside him, ready to fight. But it's Yua who speaks up—voice cold, direct.
"We're going home." (Fact. Not a lie. And not a question.)
Kusuri finally speaks, her voice soft yet sharp as a whisper—but cutting through the tension like a knife.
"You shouldn't be here," she says in a strangely gentle tone—but the words carry a weight that makes them more of a threat than a suggestion.
Yua glares at her—lips thinning.
"What do you mean I 'shouldn't' be?" she snaps, almost challenging.
Kusuri parts her lips to reply—when a gust of wind slices between them, unnatural and deliberate. The air itself hums with power as a new figure descends from above—cloaked in deep indigo robes, their presence heavy like the weight of the ocean.
Their face is obscured by a veil, but beneath it gleams a single golden eye. Their voice echoes, smooth yet thundering:
"Enough. You three were not sent here to converse with prey."
A figure with a sense of aura that seemed to sit on clouds stood in front of them.
"My name is Shikoku and I have been sent to extinguish this little friendship bonding."
Name Meaning: "Shikoku" (四極) – "Four Extremes," referencing dominion over direction itself.
Appearance: Veiled in shadowblue fabric that shifts like water; only one dark blue eye ever visible. Wields twin curved daggers named AmenoUzume ("Dancing Storm").
Kyou tenses immediately (recognizing another Sword Born Apostle). Ryo's grip tightens around nothing (wishing for his weapon). Yua just exhales sharply—because she already knows what this means…
Shikoku tilts their head slightly, the gold of their eye glinting beneath the veil like a predator in dim light. The very air around them thrums with restrained violence—an unspoken promise of devastation.
Then they speak—one sentence that freezes time itself.
"Run." (A command. A mercy.) "Because when I draw my blades next... your legs won't carry you fast enough."
🌀 End Of Chapter Thirty Nine