CHAPTER-3

Reika's eyes flutter open, but everything around her is a blur. Her head's pounding like a goddamn drum, the air thick with the musty scent of old wood. Where the hell am I?

She shifts her weight, realizing she's not on the cold, hard ground anymore. Her body aches in places she didn't even know could hurt.

Her hands instinctively reach for her sides, but that's when she notices it—her clothes have been changed.

She's no longer wearing the bloodstained, torn-up shirt from earlier. Instead, she's dressed in a black nightdress, soft to the touch but way too delicate for her taste. This isn't even her style.

"What the fuck...?" she mutters, her eyes narrowing as she tries to piece it all together. Her mind's a mess—jumbled memories of a fight, of Souta, of… hell, it's all like trying to catch smoke with her bare hands.

She touches the fabric of the nightdress, a sinking feeling crawling up her spine. What the hell happened?

With a grunt, she swings her legs over the side of the bed, her bare feet meeting the cold wood floor. The chill shoots up her legs like ice, but it doesn't snap her out of her fog.

She stands, unsteady, swaying a little as her mind races for something familiar, anything. But there's nothing. The cabin is empty—no sign of the chaos, the confrontation, or that damn bastard, Souta. It's too quiet.

Her stomach growls—loud. The smell of food wafts toward her, reminding her how long it's been since she last ate. She stares at the table. A steaming cup of rice, teriyaki chicken, a glass of water, and some weird-ass pristine apple juice. She's starving, but that unsettling sense of confusion gnaws at her. What's going on?

Before she can move toward it, the voice hits her like a slap.

"Eat this, Kagetsu-san."

Reika's spine stiffens. She feels the panic rise in her chest, like a balloon getting ready to burst. But she bites it back, swallowing the lump in her throat. She can't afford to freak out. Not yet.

"What the hell is happening?" she mutters to herself, her voice barely a whisper. But the mechanical voice doesn't care.

"Eat your morning meal, Kagetsu-san," it says, cold and lifeless, like it's repeating a script it doesn't give a shit about.

Morning? Her heart skips a beat. Her mind races to connect the dots, but it's like trying to run through mud. All she can remember is flashes—Souta's face, betrayal, pain. But the rest is lost, like trying to hold onto water in her hands.

The voice cuts through the silence again. "Please eat."

She hesitates. Fuck it. She sits down, grabs the chopsticks, her fingers stiff. She forces herself to pick up a grain of rice, shoving it in her mouth. It's warm. Soft. Comforting. But it doesn't make her feel any better. Her mind is still reeling. She's still here. In this… godforsaken place.

The voice cuts in once more. "Kagetsu-san, there is a uniform beside the cabinet. Please take it and wear it."

Uniform? She grits her teeth. This isn't the first time her life's been thrown upside down, but something about this place rubs her the wrong way. The voice, the food, the uniform—it all feels like she's being set up for something.

Sighing, she stands up and walks over to the cabinet. A sharp, fresh scent of pressed fabric hits her as she opens the door. Inside, a black three-piece uniform. Clean, sharp.

It gleams in the dim light like it's too perfect for her to touch. A small badge gleams on the left side of the top. There's also a pair of boots and a long white coat.

"Nice uniform," she mutters, feeling a twist of unease in her gut. She pulls it on, the stiff fabric scratching against her skin, making her feel like a fucking puppet. But she puts it on anyway. It fits like it was made for her.

The cold air bites at her as soon as she steps outside, and she pulls the sleeves of the coat tighter around her body. It doesn't help. Nothing helps. The alley she walks down is dark and dim, flickering lanterns casting weird shadows against the stone walls.

And then she sees them. The others. At least a hundred people, all in identical uniforms, their faces blank, their eyes flicking between her and the ground, but nothing more. No words, no comfort. Just silent, hollow stares.

What the fuck is going on here?

Before she can lose herself in her thoughts, the voice—again, that damn voice—cuts through the air.

"Follow the alley. You'll find a large door. It will open for you."

No explanation. No fucking explanation at all. Just another order. Her teeth grind together, but she does what she's told. No use in fighting it—at least not yet. She moves forward, careful not to make eye contact with anyone. The silence is suffocating, and the tension hangs in the air like a storm about to break.

They reach a massive hall. The ceiling's high enough that she can't even see it, disappearing into the blackness above.

The floor is smooth, but every step she takes echoes through the silence, making her skin crawl. The air's colder here—unnaturally so.

The voice rings out again, sharp, cold. "All Kageshiki, please line up. No talking."

Kageshiki? The word feels like a punch to the gut. She joins the others, stiff and nervous. She doesn't belong here. She can feel it deep in her bones.

The door creaks open, and a man steps into the room. Tall, sharp features, dressed in a white uniform that almost glows under the sterile light.

He's got a badge gleaming on his chest, authority in every step he takes. Behind him stand ten others—five to the left, five to the right, all wearing golden badges. Their eyes are cold, calculating.

And then her heart drops. Fucking Souta.

He's standing in the front, smirking like he knows some sick joke that she's too late to get. Her fists clench. Her breath hitches.

Is he mocking her? Does he even know what the hell's going on?

The man steps forward. His voice is sharp, cutting through the room like a knife.

"Welcome to the Tenshiko Academy. I am Shijume Kenjiku, the owner of this place."

The words hang in the air, cold and heavy.

Behind him, people whisper. Kenjiku silences them with a single glance.

"This academy is part of an organization that remains unknown to the public," he says, his tone like ice. "When Shikiban attack, it is the hunters—Kageshiki—who protect humanity."

Reika shudders at the word "Shikiban." Monsters, he calls them? What the hell is she getting herself into?

"Shikiban are monsters," Kenjiku continues, his voice now an eerie chant. "They are beautiful, so captivating that people fall in love with their appearance. But once they realize the truth, it's too late. They're already dead."

Reika's heart pounds in her chest. The image of these monsters, hidden in plain sight, their beauty hiding the truth behind them. It makes her skin crawl.

"The Kageshiki's job is to destroy them," he continues. "To survive, you will sacrifice everything. Your life. Your morals. Your very soul."

At the end of the path, a massive obsidian door loomed. It creaked open as she approached, groaning like some ancient beast. She stepped into a cavernous hall, ceiling swallowed by shadow, walls smooth and unnatural. Every step echoed loud, too loud, like it was daring her to make noise.

People filtered in, lining up without a word. Reika did the same, tension gnawing at her bones.

Then he appeared.

A man strode in from the far end—tall, ice-cold, dressed in a white uniform that shimmered with authority. His features were razor-sharp, almost inhumanly perfect. He walked like someone who'd never once needed to run.

Ten others flanked him, five on either side, all with golden badges. Their eyes scanned the room with mechanical efficiency.

But Reika only saw him.

Souta.

Standing right at the front, same uniform, same smirk. Like he hadn't betrayed her. Like he wasn't the reason she'd nearly died.

Her nails dug into her palms, blood rising in her throat.

The tall man stepped forward, raising his voice with the precision of a bullet.

"Welcome to Tenshiko Academy. I am Shijume Kenjiku. I run this place."

Silence fell like a guillotine.

Kenjiku's eyes swept the room. "This academy exists outside of public knowledge. When the Shikiban rise, it is the Kageshiki who answer."

Whispers stirred behind Reika. The word Shikiban carried weight, fear embedded in its syllables.

Kenjiku raised a hand. Silence returned.

"Shikiban appeared two thousand years ago. Beings so beautiful that humans fell for them before they realized the truth. By the time you see their real face, it's already over."

Reika's breath hitched. Her mind flashed to that twisted grin, that thing with wings and perfect features, bending like it had no bones.

"They feed on humans. That's their true nature," Kenjiku continued. "Yes, they can mimic us. Yes, they can eat our food. But it weakens them. They hide, waiting, watching. And when they strike, even the military struggles to bring them down."

A beat of silence.

"That is why the Kageshiki exist. You will become weapons. You will not be heroes. You will not be remembered. But you will protect what remains of this world."

Reika swallowed hard. Her skin felt too tight. Her lungs didn't want to breathe. The room was colder now. Or maybe it was just the future closing in.

"You will undergo five levels of training. Each harder than the last. In the first, the Shikiban are weak enough to kill barehanded—if you're strong enough. But their corpses vanish. You must absorb their essence using a special blade we will provide."

He raised a hand, revealing a knife—black metal, humming with strange energy.

"The more you kill, the stronger your blade becomes. The stronger your blade, the closer you are to surviving."

Then, a voice from the crowd, quiet but clear:"What happens if we fail?"

Kenjiku's lips curled, humorless."Then you will be known as cowards. And cowards do not leave this place alive."

A chill ran down her spine.

Reika's gaze drifted back to Souta. His smirk hadn't faded. But his eyes… there was something hidden there. Something that made her blood turn to ice.

She didn't know what this place was. Didn't know what game they were playing.

But she could feel it.

Everything had changed.And tomorrow, the real nightmare would begin.