CHAPTER-2

Reika's fingers clenched around the black envelope, the cold biting into her skin. It was like ice creeping through her veins, sharp and relentless.

Her heartbeat thundered in her chest, but still, she didn't open it. Her gaze remained fixed on the boy standing before her, his figure silhouetted in the dim, flickering light of a distant streetlamp.

He didn't flinch. Didn't move a muscle. Silence stretched between them, heavy, suffocating, like the calm before a storm. The air around him crackled with an energy that made her skin crawl.

His katana gleamed darkly in the pale light, its blade slick with black blood, the metallic stench of it filling the air.

"Who are you?" Her voice broke the silence, steady but hollow. It felt wrong, like the night itself was pressing against her chest, as if the world was about to collapse in on them both.

The boy's lips curved into a smirk, the corners of his mouth pulling up just enough to reveal a glint of predatory satisfaction.

His silver hair fell messily to half-cover his eyes, giving him an aura of dangerous indifference. He stood perfectly still, almost too relaxed—too calm for someone holding a bloodstained weapon.

"Souta," he said, his voice smooth as silk, like his name alone was enough to explain everything. "Souta Arakawa."

Reika's breath hitched. She recognized the name instantly—the weight of it slammed into her chest like a stone, suffocating her. But she didn't show it.

Her face remained impassive, her hands tight on the envelope, though her pulse hammered against her ribcage.

Souta's gaze shifted to the envelope she held, his smirk deepening. The silence felt even thicker now, heavier with something unspoken. "You know," he murmured, almost purring, "this isn't a game. If you're afraid, now's your chance to walk away."

Reika's grip on the envelope tightened, the sharp edges digging into her palm, the sensation grounding her in the moment.

She felt a rush of anger flood her chest, hot and consuming. "I'm not afraid," she snapped, her voice colder than the night air. "I'm not afraid of you."

Souta's smirk stretched wider, more sinister, sharper. "Good," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I was hoping you'd say that."

The world around them seemed to slow, the air thick with unspoken tension. Her heart raced as the realization hit her—this wasn't just another threat, another fight in a city where danger lurked at every corner.

This boy, this… Souta, was different. Something far darker than she had ever encountered.

"What happens if I accept?" Reika asked, her voice steady despite the unease that twisted in her gut. Her eyes locked on his, demanding an answer, though every instinct inside her screamed for escape.

Souta took a slow step forward, his presence growing larger, like the storm clouds gathering around them.

The air between them thickened, the weight of it almost suffocating. "If you accept," he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. "You'll learn what it means to survive in a place where only the strong remain." His head tilted slightly, his katana gleaming in the dim light. "If not…" He shrugged casually, the dismissal in his gesture sending a chill down her spine. "You die."

Reika's heart skipped a beat. His words were devoid of hesitation, of any semblance of jest. He wasn't playing. This wasn't some idle threat. This was real.

Despite the fear clawing at her insides, she forced herself to stand taller, to face him. Her legs felt like they might buckle under the weight of his words, but she refused to show weakness.

"Why would I join your 'Tenshiko Academy'?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper, but it cut through the tension like a blade. "I don't care about saving anyone."

Souta's gaze never wavered, never faltered. He wasn't fazed by her words. "Then don't." His voice was flat, dismissive, as if her refusal didn't matter. But then his eyes darkened, his gaze turning colder. "But you will crave it."

Reika's chest tightened, her breath catching in her throat. The words—too casual, too knowing—settled in her bones like a cold dread. "The blood," Souta continued, his voice almost hypnotic, "The kill. You'll crave it, just like the rest of them."

Her fingers trembled around the envelope, the rough edges digging into her skin, but she didn't let go.

There was something in his words that struck a deep chord within her, something she had buried deep within herself. The part of her that had always wanted more—the power, the control, the ability to take back what had been taken from her.

"Where is this Academy?" The question slipped out before she could stop it, her curiosity and desperation overwhelming her.

Souta's lips curled into that same predatory grin, as if he had expected her to ask. "Hidden," he replied smoothly, stepping closer, his presence like a storm closing in. "A place separate from this world. Safe from the Shikiban."

The mention of the Shikiban made Reika's stomach churn. She had barely survived one of their attacks, and now here he was, offering her the chance to face them again—but this time, with power.

Real power. Something that would allow her to stop running, to stop being a victim.

She forced herself to stand tall, though her legs still wavered beneath her. The world had shifted. The ground felt unsteady, as though everything she knew, everything she thought she understood, had cracked open in front of her.

Souta's eyes never left hers, as cold and unwavering as the night itself. "But if you join…" His voice dropped to a whisper, colder than ice scraping against stone. "There's a test."

Reika's throat was dry as she forced the words out. "A test?"

Souta's smile widened, cruel and full of something darker. "Pass, and you live," he said, the words slicing through the air like a blade. "Fail…" He didn't need to finish. His shrug was enough. "You die."

Reika's fists clenched, the weight of his words pressing into her chest, each syllable sinking deeper into her soul like a dagger.

This wasn't a choice. This was survival. The price for failure was death, and there would be no second chances.

"What kind of test?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, dread rising in her gut.

Souta's laughter was low, dark, and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. "You'll find out soon enough."

Reika's heart pounded in her chest. This wasn't just about strength. It wasn't just about surviving the next battle.

This was something far deeper, darker. And for the first time, Reika realized that survival came at a price—a price she had to be willing to pay.

Her fingers trembled around the envelope. The decision was hers. Walk away. Or take it. Step into the unknown, into a world where death and power intertwined.

"When do I start?" Her voice was a whisper, swallowed by the weight of her own uncertainty, Reika's fingers clenched around the black envelope.

It bit into her skin like ice, a cold that didn't just sting—it sank into her bones.

Her heartbeat pounded loud in her chest. But she didn't open it.

Her eyes locked onto the boy standing before her, his silhouette carved in the flickering light like a shadow given form.

He didn't move.

Didn't speak.

Didn't even blink.

The silence stretched long—thick, suffocating. Something about him twisted the air around them, like the calm before a storm that knew it would kill you.

The katana in his hand still dripped black blood. The stench was sharp, metallic, sickening.

Reika finally broke the silence. "Who are you?"

Her voice was steady, but hollow. Like it wasn't really hers anymore.

The boy's lips curled into a smirk. Nothing warm about it.

His silver hair hung messy over his eyes. Calm. Still. Too still.

"Souta," he said. "Souta Arakawa."

Reika froze.

That name.

That name had weight. It echoed with stories whispered in alleys and dark corners. She knew it—but didn't show it.

Her fingers curled tighter around the envelope.

Souta's eyes flicked to it. His smirk deepened.

"This isn't a game," he said. His voice—smooth, low, dangerous. "If you're scared, now's the time to walk away."

Reika's grip tightened, the sharp edges digging into her palm.

"I'm not scared," she snapped. "I'm not afraid of you."

His smirk widened—something wolfish behind it.

"Good," he said. "I hate cowards."

The air pressed in closer. Tense. Unforgiving.

Reika's pulse was thunder in her ears. But she didn't look away.

"What happens if I accept?" she asked.

Souta stepped forward.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Predator-like.

"If you accept," he said, "you learn how to survive. In a place where the weak die. Always."

He tilted his head, katana glinting.

"If you don't..." He shrugged. "You'll die anyway."

No hesitation. No bluff. Just fact.

Her breath caught.

This wasn't a warning.

It was a promise.

"Why would I join your 'Tenshiko Academy'?" she said. "I'm not interested in saving anyone."

"Then don't." Souta's voice was flat. Empty. Like it didn't matter to him either way.
"But you will crave it."

Her chest tightened. "Crave what?"

He leaned in, eyes sharp like knives.

"The blood," he whispered. "The kill. You'll want it, Reika. Just like the rest of them."

Her hands trembled. Not from fear—but from something darker. Something true.

That part of her she tried to bury. The one that wanted power. Control. Revenge.

She swallowed hard. "Where is this academy?"

Souta grinned. He knew she'd ask.

"Hidden," he said. "Beyond this rotting world. Safe from the Shikiban."

The word made her stomach twist.

Shikiban. They came 2000 years ago. Inhuman. Beautiful. Terrifying.

Too perfect. Too strong.

People made mistakes around them. Trusted them. Worshipped them.

And died for it.

They fed on humans. Not just physically, but emotionally, mentally. Fed on fear, on pain. They could eat normal food, pretend to be like everyone else—but it weakened them.

Even the military struggled to kill them. Bullets weren't always enough.

She had barely survived one.

Now he was offering her a chance to face them again.

But this time, with power.

Real power.

She straightened, knees still shaky, but her eyes didn't waver.

Souta stared right through her. "But if you join… there's a test."

Her voice was barely a whisper. "What kind of test?"

His smile sharpened.

"Pass, and you live," he said. "Fail… you don't."

Reika's jaw tightened.

No second chances. No reset button.

"What if I fail on purpose?" she asked.

He didn't blink. "You won't."

And somehow, she knew he was right.

She looked down at the envelope. Black, cold, shimmering faintly with something not quite natural.

The seal pulsed. Like a heartbeat.

Hers?

Or someone else's?

She tore it open.

Inside, a single sheet of parchment. Words in a language she shouldn't have understood—but did.

"Kagetsu Reika, you are summoned to Tenshiko Academy. The choice is yours. But once you enter, you will never be the same."

Her breath hitched.

The city around them suddenly felt smaller. Tighter.

A prison.

And this envelope—the key.

Souta watched her, silent.

Waiting.

Testing.

Her mind screamed. Her body was frozen.

But her soul?

Her soul burned.

For once—she wanted more.

Reika raised her eyes. "When do I start?"

Souta's grin spread. Sharp. Dangerous.

"Now."

The streetlights shattered.

Glass rained like silver dust. The world tilted.

Something slammed into her chest—an invisible force, heavy and cold.

She staggered.

Fell.

Everything blurred. Spun. Vanished.

Then a voice. Cold. Close. Final.

"Survive this, Kagetsu Reika."

And the darkness swallowed her whole.