A Doorway Into the Unseen

The Transfer — Signatures of Fate

Morning came in too bright.

Too sharp.

Too clean for someone who had slept maybe three hours and spent the rest of the night trying to accept that her life was no longer just… classes and homework.

Aihana sat in the back seat while her father drove, mother sitting beside him, both wearing that specific worried-parent posture people get when the school principal calls them in “for a meeting.”

“Maybe you said something strange when you fainted,” her mother whispered carefully.

“Or maybe it’s about the competition,” her father tried. “You did great, Aihana.”

She said nothing.

If she opened her mouth, she’d probably blurt something like:

I have powers and demons exist and angels are real.

Which, obviously, wasn’t an option.

The hallway outside the principal’s office was quiet.

Uncomfortably quiet.

Aihana paused, breathed in slowly… and knocked.

The door opened.

Her school principal sat behind his desk, fussing with paperwork like even he couldn’t quite believe something this far above the “organize the spring dance” level was happening.

And to his left—

Aihana’s mother gasped.

Her father blinked.

Aihana froze.

Akihiro.

Wearing the A-Academy uniform.

Expression calm.

Posture perfectly composed.

Energy contained… deliberately.

Beside him stood another man.

Elegant light blazer.

Eyes too sharp to belong to an ordinary human.

The Headmaster of the A-Academy.

His smile was warm.

To Aihana, it felt almost too perceptive.

“Welcome,” he said. “You’re here to sign the transfer documents.”

Both parents at once:

“Transfer?”

Aihana’s pulse slammed into her ribs, but she stayed still.

Her principal lifted a paper with a gold crest.

“Aihana has been selected for the A-Academy,” he explained, as if this were perfectly ordinary. “It’s the most prestigious school in the region. Their headmaster wishes to admit her personally.”

“Prestigious?” her father echoed.

Her mother practically glowed. “I’ve always said she has talent!”

Aihana stared at the floor.

Akihiro stood at the wall, silent, alert to every tiny shift in her energy.

The A-Academy Headmaster continued,

“Aihana shows remarkable potential. We believe she can develop her abilities at the highest level. We’d like her to begin as early as today.”

“Today?” her mother squeaked.

“Today?” her father almost whimpered.

Aihana swallowed.

Her parents looked at her.

"Are you sure?" her father asked.

Aihana nodded.

More sure than she’d ever been of anything.

Moments later…

The documents were read, signed, and stamped twice in blue.

Her future—on paper.

“Go home and pack,” the headmaster said gently.

“Miss Aihana may begin this afternoon.”

Her parents thanked him repeatedly, bowing, smiling, excited that their daughter would finally be able to show her talent.

Aihana sat silently in the car on the way home, her mind buzzing so loudly the world felt like static.

Her mother turned, beaming.

“Aihana, this is incredible! A prestigious school! We’re so proud of you!”

Her father nodded.

“If you need help packing, just tell us.”

Aihana looked at them.

Sweet.

Naive.

Blissfully unaware that the world had wings and claws.

When they arrived home, her mother clapped her hands.

“Packing! Now! If you start right away, you can bring your extra sketchbook. And those drawing pencils. And—”

Aihana stood at the doorway of her room.

She looked at the empty suitcase.

Her posters.

Her drawings.

Her memories pinned across the walls of her old life.

“Today,” she whispered.

“I really am leaving… today.”

And on a high branch of the maple tree outside her window…

Akihiro stood.

Silent.

Watchful.

Waiting.

Packing — The Last Day of Ordinary Life

Aihana stood in the middle of her room, still staring at her open suitcase.

Sunlight spilled across scattered sketches, open notebooks, worn paperbacks, and tiny pieces of her everyday world.

All of it suddenly felt… temporary.

Belonging to someone she used to be.

Her hands were still a bit shaky, but she began slowly:

her pencils

her sketchbooks

the T-shirt from her first art competition

her softest sweatpants

and her favorite book.

Each item she put inside felt like letting go of a small piece of her old self.

Her mother sang downstairs in the kitchen.

Her father shuffled papers and said something like,

“This school will be wonderful—wonderful.”

Everything was normal.

Too normal for a day when fate rewrites itself.

Aihana stepped onto the balcony, maybe to breathe, maybe to keep herself from breaking.

Then—

A faint shift in the air.

Barely a breeze.

But enough to raise goosebumps on her arms.

Presence.

Warm and bright, but powerful like the wind before a storm.

“Akihiro,” she whispered.

No uncertainty.

No question.

“I know you’re there.”

Something moved in the branches.

A flicker of shadow and light.

Akihiro stepped out from his concealment as though he’d been waiting for her to say his name.

He crossed onto the balcony with a grace that didn’t belong to the human world.

Aihana forgot how to breathe for a heartbeat.

“I saw you started packing,” he said quietly.

“I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“But you came anyway,” she whispered.

Akihiro met her eyes, something soft—too soft—glinting there.

“I wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

Aihana looked at the suitcase, then back at him.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” she admitted, her voice tight.

Akihiro stepped closer.

“You can. I believe in you.”

The air stilled between them, thick, almost tangible.

Aihana held the balcony rail, fingers trembling.

“It’s insane,” she murmured.

“All of it. Angels. Demons. Powers I don’t understand.”

A shaky laugh slipped out.

“A few days ago my biggest problem was… the art competition.”

Akihiro moved closer—

not too close, but close enough that she felt his warmth.

“I understand,” he said softly.

“I don’t expect you to accept everything at once.”

His voice warmed the day.

“You’re starting a new chapter. And whatever waits for you there… you won’t face it alone.”

Aihana’s breath hitched.

That promise was too much.

Too real.

A beat of silence.

“Will… you be there?” she whispered.

Akihiro’s reply carried a quiet certainty that stirred something deep inside her.

“Of course. I’ll be there.”

Before she could reply, his wings unfurled—

a soft rush of light and wind.

He rose back to the tree and vanished.

But she still felt him there.

Warm.

Protective.

She inhaled, exhaled… and went back to packing.

Farewell — The Last Look Back

When school finally ended, Miyu sprinted full-speed to Aihana’s house, arriving breathless and wild-eyed.

“AIHANAAAAA!” she wailed, spotting her at the doorway.

Aihana barely had time to turn before Miyu threw her arms around her.

Real tears—thick, earnest—ran down her cheeks.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving!” Miyu sobbed.

“What am I supposed to do without you? Who will sit with me at lunch? Who will listen to me complain about math?!”

Aihana smiled through a tight knot in her throat, hugging her back fiercely, memorizing the moment.

“I’ll miss you too,” she whispered.

“But we’ll see each other again. I promise.”

Miyu clung tighter.

She didn’t need memories of demons or magic.

Just this.

Just their goodbye.

On a nearby tree, hidden in shadow, Akihiro watched silently.

He felt every tremor of their emotions—

and stayed unseen.

This moment belonged to them.

When Miyu finally pulled away, wiping her eyes:

“Call me! Immediately! As soon as you can!”

Aihana nodded, her heart heavy and resolute.

Her parents waited at the car, trunk open, suitcase ready.

Her mother squeezed her shoulder.

Her father tried to look strong, his eyes giving him away.

“So… are we ready?” he asked, voice slightly strained.

Aihana glanced back at her house.

Every corner.

Every flower.

Every shadow.

Home.

Then something tugged at her—

not physically, but like a warm invisible thread.

Presence.

Akihiro.

She didn’t need to see him.

Or hear the shift of wings.

She just knew.

A small, hidden smile touched her lips.

She wasn’t alone.

Not today.

Not tomorrow.

Not on the road ahead.

“Let’s go,” she told her parents.

The engine hummed.

The car rolled forward.

Aihana looked back one last time.

Her home faded from view.

But she knew—with absolute certainty—

Akihiro was watching.

Unseen.

Silent.

A guardian in the shadows.

She turned her gaze ahead.

Toward the hills.

Toward the A-Academy.

Toward the life that had just begun.

The road to Tama Hills unfolded before them, wrapped in dark forest and whispered destiny.