The Guilds That Watch

The clouds had thinned by afternoon, yet Hinode Garden Academy remained wrapped in a haze of unease. It was not the weather. It was not the lessons. It was the students themselves, moving through the corridors in quiet clusters, their conversations clipped short whenever Shizukesa drew near.

He felt none of the hostility directly. No one spoke to him with sharpness or fear. Yet he could sense the ripple of tension he caused. A pressure that did not belong to him seeped through the school walls, thickening the air.

After the incident, people had begun to look at him as one looks at a locked door with something dangerous hidden behind it.

He walked with Aki, Rin and Mira, staying close as they moved into the Guild Wing. This part of the school was much older than the rest. The ceilings rose higher, with carved wooden beams and stained windows casting coloured light onto the marble floors. Portraits of past Guild Masters lined the walls, their expressions stern and uncomfortable in the dim light.

Aki slowed slightly as she looked up. “I always forget how creepy this corridor is. It feels like someone will step out of a frame and start lecturing me.”

“They probably would,” Rin murmured. “These portraits belonged to people who lectured for the majority of their lives.”

Mira walked ahead with a deliberate calm. “We are here because the academy wants to assess our placement in the Guild system. They are evaluating Shizukesa as a special case.”

Shizukesa looked at her. “What does that mean?”

“It means they want to know what to do with you,” Rin answered, not unkindly. “Most first-years join a beginner guild. With what happened yesterday… they will not risk placing you anywhere ordinary.”

Aki grimaced. “The Guilds control all advanced training. If they put you in the wrong one, you might learn the wrong things.”

“Or too dangerous a thing,” Mira added softly.

Shizukesa nodded, though his mind drifted to the white petal that had dissolved in his hand. He could still feel its warmth if he concentrated enough, faint and delicate like a candle flame in a cold room.

They reached the wide double doors of the briefing hall. Two instructors stood guard outside, eyes sweeping over the arriving first-years. A third instructor approached with a clipboard.

“Hana Shizukesa,” he said. “Rin Takahiro. Mira Hoshi. Aki Yamasora. Follow me.”

Aki swallowed audibly. “This is it. This is the scary part. No turning back. No running.”

“You could run,” Rin muttered. “You simply would not get far.”

“Exactly. Which is why I am not trying.”

Mira touched Aki’s arm to steady her. “You will be fine.”

Aki managed a smile that was faint but sincere.

They were led into a large hall where rows of seats faced a platform. Three banners hung behind the platform: one embroidered with a silver lotus, one with a pair of mirrored daggers, and one with an open eye surrounded by a ring of petals.

“The three Guilds,” Mira murmured. “Lotus Circle. Bladepoint Division. Insight Band.”

Aki looked between them. “Why do the logos look like they want to kill me?”

“They want to train you,” Rin corrected. “The killing comes later.”

“Rin,” Mira sighed.

He blinked. “What?”

The first-years were seated as instructors dispersed through the hall. A soft murmur filled the room as Guild officials walked onto the platform. The central figure was a woman with jet-black hair tied into a smooth braid and a uniform marked with silver embroidery along the sleeves.

She raised a hand, and the room fell silent.

“Welcome, first-years,” she said. Her voice carried with a powerful, steady clarity. “I am Guildmaster Saito of the Insight Band. Today, you will undergo preliminary placement evaluations. Most of you will be assigned to a beginner sub-guild by the end of this week.”

Aki breathed out a sigh of relief.

Rin raised an eyebrow. “She said most.”

Aki groaned. “Why would you say that aloud?”

Guildmaster Saito continued. “A rare few will undergo a separate assessment. Those individuals have manifested irregular, advanced or unstable emotional signatures.”

Mira glanced quietly towards Shizukesa.

Saito scanned the hall, and when her eyes fell on him, she paused. Only for a second, but the gesture was clear.

“Hana Shizukesa,” she said. “Remain after the session.”

A ripple passed through the hall.

Shizukesa felt the weight of every gaze in the room land on his back.

Aki whispered, “I hate this. I absolutely hate this.”

Rin straightened slightly. “Do not worry. They cannot separate him from us.”

Mira looked at Rin with a question in her eyes. “And if they try?”

Rin’s voice dropped to a whisper. “They will learn why swords exist.”

Aki stared at him. “Did you just threaten an entire Guild?”

Rin didn’t answer.

Shizukesa lowered his eyes. There was no fear, not truly, but a cold heaviness settled in his chest. It reminded him of the sensation he had felt in the Resonance Room. That pressing weight beneath the ribs, urging something to surface.

He ignored it as best he could.

The evaluations began. Instructors distributed crystal devices shaped like teardrops, which glowed faintly when touched. Students held them as the Guild assessors observed the emotional wavelengths they produced. Aki’s device flared with warm sparks. Mira’s emitted soft rings of blue. Rin’s glowed a sharp, steady silver.

When Shizukesa pressed his fingers to it, the teardrop froze.
No glow.
No sound.
No movement.

It simply became cold.

Instructors exchanged glances.

Guildmaster Saito watched without blinking.

Shizukesa removed his hand quickly. “I am sorry.”

“Do not apologise,” she replied. “It is not malfunctioning. It is reacting to an absence.”

Aki whispered loudly, “An absence of what? Happiness? Fear? Soul? Breakfast?”

“Please stop guessing,” Rin muttered.

Mira took the device from Shizukesa gently. It warmed in her hand, then flickered briefly before returning to normal.

“It was not the device,” she said softly. “It was you.”

As the session came to an end, the guildmaster addressed the room once more.

“Those called will remain. The rest are dismissed.”

Students began filing out.

Shizukesa stood to follow them, but Rin stopped him with a hand on his arm. “We are staying.”

The guildmaster raised her voice slightly. “Only those named earlier will remain during this stage.”

Rin did not move. “He is not standing alone.”

Aki stood on Shizukesa’s other side. “Absolutely not.”

Mira moved in front of Shizukesa calmly. “We stay with him.”

A faint ripple passed through the hall as the officials exchanged glances. Most expected the guildmaster to order them away.

Instead, Saito regarded them with quiet interest.

“You are loyal,” she said. “That is rare. Very well. You may remain for observation.”

Aki nearly collapsed in relief.

Shizukesa looked at the guildmaster. “Why am I being assessed separately?”

“You manifested a petal that does not align with any recognised emotion,” Saito replied. “White petals are unheard of. Black petals are exceptionally rare. Both in one student suggests instability… or potential.”

A shadow passed over her expression. “We must know which.”

Before Shizukesa could respond, Mira stiffened. Her eyes widened slightly, and she turned towards the windows.

A faint tremor ran through the air. The light in the hall dimmed, though no cloud covered the sun. Shizukesa’s skin prickled with a sensation that was neither cold nor warm, but entirely unfamiliar.

Aki felt it too. “Something is wrong.”

Rin reached for his sword. “Where is it coming from?”

Mira’s hand hovered in the air as if tracing invisible strings.

“It is here,” she whispered.

Shizukesa felt the pressure build behind his ribs.

A voice stirred inside him again.

Quieter than before.
Clearer.
Almost patient.

“Let me in.”

He inhaled sharply.

The warmth from the white petal flickered behind his eyes.
The coldness from the black petal answered.
Two forces pressed within him at once.

The hall lights flickered.

Aki gasped. “Not again.”

Rin stepped in front of Shizukesa, sword unsheathed without hesitation. “If something intends to come through him, it will face me first.”

The resonance inside the hall intensified.

Mira whispered, “This is not external. Something inside him is responding.”

Guildmaster Saito raised her arm. “Everyone stand back.”

Shizukesa clutched his chest as a faint glow rose around him, soft white at first, then stained with streaks of black.

Aki looked terrified.

Rin stepped closer.

Mira whispered his name in fear.

Shizukesa felt both petals awaken inside him. One warm. One cold. Opposing, intertwining, struggling.

The pressure reached a peak.

Then…

Everything stopped.

Silence fell over the hall like a sheet of frost.

Shizukesa lowered his hand.

The glow faded.

The pressure vanished.

Everyone stared at him.

He stared at the ground.

Guildmaster Saito inhaled slowly. “Your assessment is no longer optional. Hana Shizukesa, you will report to the Guildmasters’ Council tomorrow morning.”

Aki stepped towards him. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” the guildmaster said, “he may not be the only one inside himself.”