8:00 p.m.: The soft light of Aurora had gradually faded, shifting from a warm yellow to a cold blue in the sky—marking the end of the day at Hiragana Sports Academy and the arrival of night.
The rain, once gentle, had intensified, pouring down heavily and echoing against the ground like a melancholic symphony. Such weather was common in Crea: with Nox rising to the skies, darkness, cold, and rain claimed every corner, wrapping everything in its heavy presence.
That darkness revealed human sorrow, amplified by the choices made when indulging in sin and bathing in evil. The fruit born of infertility rose only to abort the light and feast on the pleasures of flesh. The weight of regret hung in the air as the night deepened... Yet no one resisted the comfort it brought.
And there, as always, stood the exorcist—unshaken by the weather—already at the entrance, his gaze firm upon that place.
He was the only one who dared to question why, for by Elum, he had been granted the grace to see beyond what was visible and to coexist between both realms.
He stood still before a wide, imposing gate, framed by a concrete floor where athletes and students usually gathered before classes and training. Stone benches and tables dotted the area—an environment he despised.
Looking ahead, he took in the main building, its sober architecture prominently displaying the academy's name. Cold hues dominated the gate's metal bars, now a deep black, while shades of gray coated the concrete walls and structure.
Around him extended two wings meant for teachers and coaches, both connected to the main building by long corridors, forming a complex that seemed to guard every secret of the academy's design.
As the faculty made their way to the parking lot behind the building, the students headed in the opposite direction, rushing out into the night, immersed in a school atmosphere filled with laughter and gossip.
Most of them were between 14 and 17 years old.
He was swallowed by the crowd. People glanced at him with suspicion—some even with relief. He was used to those reactions. After all, being an exorcist wasn't exactly respected by society. Even though the supernatural was real, dealing with things only you could see was the perfect excuse for others to mock or ignore you.
Without hesitation, he stepped forward, passing through the metal gate and pushing open the double glass doors. Determination flared in his eyes, even as he avoided eye contact with those around him. Despite his commanding presence, he loathed crowds, focusing solely on his surroundings to keep moving forward.
As he set foot on the staircase that split the building into two massive halls, a chill slithered down his spine, crawling from his neck to his fingertips. His supernatural instincts were on high alert—something was definitely off.
Negative energy… Alright. First step: see the old man.
Temporarily setting aside his unease, he began to climb toward the second floor. The route to the headmaster's office formed clearly in his mind, and his steps were careful, eyes scanning the classrooms along the way. None showed signs of activity. All the regular classroom doors were open, suggesting the cleaning crew would soon be taking over.
There was no social interaction to be had—everyone was focused on their tasks. For him, that was a blessing. Starting a conversation was more uncomfortable than facing off with a vengeful spirit.
When he reached the corner of the hallway, he turned without pause, glancing out one of the many windows on the left. Outside, only a few students remained, scattered like raindrops, the grounds nearly empty.
Perfect... the fewer people, the better.
His eyes locked onto a wooden door at the end of the corridor, a small plaque nailed to it: Office of the Headmaster.
He mentally braced himself, stepping forward and knocking three times. Then he waited, lost in thought as the sound of his shoes echoed on the laminate flooring. He looked around, a mix of anxiety and curiosity bubbling inside him.
Nothing happened…
Then the door opened.
The man before him greeted him with a wide, beaming smile, stretching ear to ear. Still overweight, now older, his hair was thinning, and he wore a suit that barely buttoned around his bulk.
"Finally, Yamasaki Yami! Haven't changed a bit, have you? Still got that grumpy look," he joked, stepping aside to get a better view. "Come on in!"
Yami let out a dry chuckle and stepped into the room, driven by sheer hatred.
"Well, you haven't changed much either... Mr. Headmaster."
"Ah, don't flatter me. Age hasn't treated me kindly," he replied, settling into his chair behind a desk. The office resembled a corporate workspace, with industrial furniture framing the room. Trophies and plaques from his years of leadership lined the shelves.
Modest, huh…
Resting his hands on the desk, the headmaster gave him a serious look.
"Alright, jokes aside—let's talk business. Please, have a seat."
"Sure... 'gentleman,'" Yami muttered, pulling out the chair and sitting, forcing himself to meet the man's eyes.
"So... about the job. Since it's a task for a lower-grade exorcist—Grade Two, at that—I won't charge the full amount..."
He was about to continue when the man abruptly opened a drawer. From it, he pulled out a check, waving it smugly between his fingers, that same greedy smile plastered across his face.
"Actually, I called you because of your rank. I already knew the rates. See for yourself."
He handed Yami the check. The amount made his eyes widen.
"55,000 yen? Are you kidding me? Is this serious?"
"Of course it is. I've been dealing with this problem for a while, but I waited until I heard you were back. I thought it could be good for the academy—imagine the prestige of hiring such an expensive exorcist. Just imagine how high that sets the bar!"
Even he was surprised by what he'd just said.
"Yeah... no doubt about that."
He furrowed his brow and looked away. He normally didn't care about his clients' character, but this conversation was draining.
This bastard nearly got his students killed over a publicity stunt? Seriously?
His fingers twitched on his thigh, consumed by an overwhelming wave of frustration.
"So, do you think it'll be quick? I mean, I'll have to wait till you're done, right? Any idea what time I'll be able to leave?" Nakata peppered him with questions, looking increasingly awkward.
Yami, still in his thoughts, glanced at the wall clock. It read 8:28 p.m.
"Yamasaki?" the man called, sensing his distraction.
"Huh? Oh—yeah. Based on what I've gathered, there are two possibilities. If the entity is dispersed across the grounds, this will be quick. If it's concentrated, it'll take a little longer—just enough time for me to find the supernatural event horizon, and from there, I'll trace it to the core," he answered confidently, making the headmaster's eyes gleam.
He stood up at once, turning his eyes to the door.
Yami exhaled deeply, as if ready to flee, while the old man clapped, still grinning greedily.
As the exorcist headed for the door, the headmaster called out one last time:
"Knew I should've hired you from the start! I'll be waiting!"
"Right…" he replied coldly, stepping into the hallway and closing the door behind him with a sense of relief.
At least he paid well. What a damn fool.
A faint smirk curled on his lips, but it quickly vanished as he refocused on what really mattered. He noticed one of the classroom doors shutting in the distance, followed by the soft click of locks.
The cleaning crew's here. Good. I need to figure out the energy flow near the staircase. I felt a trace... but it vanished when I came up here—or somewhere along the way!
The solution was slipping from his mind, burning neurons as it went.
"Hm... in the end... it's hard to tell if it's safe or not without knowing what this thing is capable of. I should've asked that opportunist for more information!"
He whispered, regretting his lack of foresight.
Faced with the mockery, he let out a deep sigh.
"Well, I guess I can stop releasing my aura and focus on my deduction skills. The fact that the staircase is radiating energy... that's already a clue."
His shoulders slumped as he finally decided to take the next step. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a piece of candy. With a swift motion, he unwrapped it and tossed it into the air, catching it in his mouth.
His movements were the only sound echoing through the corridor. Until suddenly, breaking the silence, a woman's scream rang out—not a cry of surprise or terror, but a sharp, piercing sound, followed by a deadly silence. It was so high-pitched and shrill that it made one question whether the person who screamed was still alive.
Dark energy flowed in perfect sync with the sound, like a breeze brushing through his hair, only to vanish the moment he noticed it, sending a sudden chill down his spine.
"Let the games begin," he said with a crooked smile, his eyes fixed ahead.