The corridor outside the dorm was entirely too quiet. The heavy stone walls of the Academy seemed to swallow every sound, leaving nothing but the sharp, solitary echo of my boots striking the polished floor. Sure, it was late, but usually, a few straggling recruits would still be wandering around.
I exhaled a ragged sigh, pressing a hand briefly against my eyepatch as the muscle beneath it began to twitch violently.
'Get a grip, damn it!' I screamed at myself, slapping myself to regain focus.
I meticulously corrected my posture. Shoulders back, chin tilted up. I was the heir to the Harasayuki clan, and I had to look the part.
Internally, though, my guts were churning like coiled barbed wire. Perfection was the only option with my father. There was zero room for error. I had to walk into that room looking like a conqueror, only to hand him a massive failure.
'Report the awakening. Tell Father that Ryomen awakened his core before I did. Wait for that icy look of absolute disappointment to freeze over his face.'
I despised knowing exactly how this was going to go.
The walk from the Eastern Wing to my father's private quarters shouldn't have felt like a march to the executioner's block, but every single step weighed infinitely heavier than the last. The comfortably dim, inhabited halls of my dorm quickly faded behind me, seamlessly replaced by the suffocating, sterile silence of the restricted administrative sector.
The ambient temperature dropped noticeably the deeper I went, the air growing sharp, crisp, and entirely unwelcoming.
At the very end of a long, vaulted stone corridor stood the entrance to the Overseer's Tower–a strictly prohibited zone completely sealed off to anyone lacking the clearance of a high rank.
Because my father is the Overseer, the strict rules of high-ranking clearance simply don't apply to me.
I stopped dead in my tracks in front of the massive entryway. Set directly into the center of the pale stone wall was a heavy, perfectly smooth obsidian panel, its polished, pitch-black surface reflecting my posture like a dark mirror.
I stepped forward, leaning in until my face was perfectly aligned with the dormant activation rune etched deep into the center of the dark glass.
For a fraction of a second, nothing happened. Then, a harsh, blinding blue light violently flared to life. It swept a meticulous, glowing grid across my features, the scanner emitting a low, vibrating hum that I could literally feel rattling against my back teeth. A moment later, the light flashed green. With a deep, groaning rumble of heavy stone scraping against stone, the internal mechanisms released, and the massive doors slowly slid apart, exhaling a draft of cold air into the hallway.
I crossed the threshold, stepping onto the base of a narrow, spiraling stone staircase that stretched impossibly high into the dark belly of the tower above.
I began the grueling climb.
With every sharp, rhythmic clack of my boots echoing off the curved walls, the invisible vice around my chest tightened.
The physical ache spreading through my chest had absolutely nothing to do with the steep, exhausting incline, and everything to do with the crushing reality of what I was about to confess. I was marching upward to hand-deliver my own utter humiliation.
I thought about it again, Ryomen unlocked his core before me. The thought felt like swallowing a mouthful of bloody glass. My father–a man forged from absolute perfection, overwhelming authority, ruthless ambition, and centuries of untarnished bloodline pride–would not yell. He wouldn't scream.
He would simply look at me with that silent, icy, hollow disappointment that could strip the confidence right out of my bones.
My left eye gave another violent, erratic twitch beneath its patch. I ground my teeth together so hard my jaw audibly popped, forcing my heavy, reluctant legs to keep moving, carrying me one step closer to the inevitable.
Finally, the dizzying, seemingly endless spiral leveled out onto a small, circular stone landing. I stood before the second and final door, identical to the one at the bottom, bearing another heavy obsidian panel embedded in the wall. Beyond this door lay his private quarters at the very pinnacle of the tower.
I didn't immediately step up to the scanner. I couldn't. Not like this…
I squeezed my eyes shut and forced a long, painfully slow breath in through my nose, holding the freezing air deep in my lungs before exhaling the jagged, trembling edges of my panic.
I aggressively smoothed the invisible wrinkles from the fabric of my uniform. I rolled my shoulders back until my posture was razor-straight, and I tilted my chin up, locking my jaw into place. I had to bury the dread completely. I had to walk into that room radiating the unshakable confidence expected of the Harasayuki heir.
Only when the mask was perfectly secured did I finally step forward into the blue light.
As the door opened I saw my father, sitting at his prestigious white desk, writing papers, like he always does. My father has almost never had the time to even acknowledge me ever since I was a kid.
And when mom died, it got even worse. Seconds later, he finally looked up. When he saw me his face materialized instantly. He looked exactly as he always did–impeccable black uniform, cold, assessing gaze, not a single strand of hair out of place. Even through the projection, the pressure of his presence made the air feel heavier.
"Tsume," He said, voice level. "It's late. This had better be important."
I quickly swallowed the lump in my throat and forced my voice steady. "Ryomen Shujinko awakened his Spirit Core today. In combat. Against one of the Tenebras operatives–the blonde fire user from Nihon Village. He also manifested some kind of… ability. Blue outlines in his eyes. He saw movements before they happened. Saved both of us."
He quietly put down his pen as a long silence stretched between us, my heart beat faster with every bit of silence.
My fathers expression didn't change, but I had spent my entire life learning to read the micro-shifts in his face. The slight tightening at the corner of the eyes. The almost imperceptible tilt of the head.
"Precognition," he repeated slowly. "The Ryomen recessive trait. So the boy actually inherited it."
"Yes, Sir."
Then he smirked a little bit, "I knew he'd be special."
Another long pause. Then he leaned forward a bit, his voice dropping slightly. "And where were you in this exchange, Tsume?"
The question landed like a blade between the ribs.
I clenched my fists at my sides. "I… engaged the target. Supported Ryomen when his new ability activated. We drove the operative off."
It wasn't entirely a lie. But it wasn't the full truth either. I couldn't tell father the full truth.
Then, my father studied me for several painful seconds. "I see," he finally said. "Continue monitoring him closely. Report anything else unusual–especially regarding the girl, Saki. The Yamata incident suggests she's connected to deeper currents."
I stiffly nodded, "Understood."
"Great. You may leave now," he muttered dismissively, picking his pen back up and immediately returning his focus to his paperwork.
I turned on my heel, grasping the cold, heavy handle of the door and pulling it open to the spiral staircase. I was exactly one step away from escaping.
"And Tsume."
His voice sliced through the room, suddenly dropping to an absolute, freezing absolute zero. The temperature in the office seemed to plummet with it. I froze, my knuckles turning white around the door handle, and slowly looked back over my shoulder.
His eyes were still locked on his paperwork, but his words hit like a physical strike. "Do not ever lie to me again. I see through it every single time. If you choose to do so again, the Harasayuki name will not protect you from the consequences."
Pure, paralyzing shock rooted me to the floor. I managed a stiff, jerky nod before ripping my gaze away. I swiftly pulled the door shut, completely sealing off his quarters. The second it clicked into place, my lungs violently expanded. I started my descent down the spiral stairs, gasping for air in rapid, shaky breaths, overwhelmed by the dizzying, desperate relief of simply surviving the conversation.
Back in the dorm, the others had already settled in for the night. Hojiro was snoring softly, one arm dangling off his bed. Saki sat cross-legged on her mattress, quietly sharpening a small knife by lantern light. Ryomen lay on his back, eyes open, staring at the ceiling like it held answers.
I closed the door behind me with a soft click. No one spoke to me as I crossed to my bed and dropped down, ready to go to sleep. After a long moment, Ryomen's voice drifted across the quiet room.
"You, okay?"
I didn't answer right away. I just stared at the ceiling above me, my jaw tight. 'Why is he trying so hard to be friends with me? Even after everything I've done?'
"...It's nothing. Just go to sleep." I finally muttered; my voice had less venom than usual.
Ryomen then let out a quiet huff that might have been a laugh.
I closed my eye. I still hated how much Ryomen had changed, it surprised me, it really did. But I didn't want to die out there.
And whether I liked it or not, that red-haired idiot might be the only reason I hadn't.
.