The District That Stopped Breathing

The lower district of Hinode City smelled of old metal and wet concrete. Even the air felt different here, heavy with something stale and unmoving. The streets were narrower, wind struggled to pass through them, and the tall buildings leaned inward as if tired of standing.

Shizukesa walked with his three friends and two supervising instructors. Their group stood out immediately. Students from the academy rarely came this far unless on assignment.

Aki clung to her bag with both hands. “Why do these places always smell like rain, rust and sadness mixed together?”

Rin glanced at her. “Because most people here are struggling.”

Aki nodded in a more subdued manner.

Mira walked just ahead of Shizukesa. Her eyes were half closed, her breathing quiet as she read the faint emotional trails that clung to the edges of the district.

“There is something here,” she murmured. “Something took emotion from this area. Not in a violent way. More like… draining.”

Aki tightened her grip. “Draining? Like someone squeezing a sponge?”

“Something like that,” Mira said.

The instructors leading them remained silent. They wore the colours of the Insight Band and Lotus Circle and carried themselves with a tension that did not match their calm expressions.

Shizukesa looked at the buildings around them. A shuttered shop. A boarded café. The faint remains of graffiti that had been scrubbed away. The district was not dangerous in appearance. It was simply empty.

No laughter.
No arguments.
No emotional noise.

Even the slightest sounds echoed too clearly.

Aki whispered, “I do not like how quiet this is.”

Rin stepped closer to Shizukesa. “Stay aware. This is not an ordinary training exercise.”

One of the instructors stopped at the entrance of a wide alleyway.

“This is one of the sites where civilians were affected,” he said. “Remain close. Do not wander.”

The alley was lined with broken crates, old posters peeling from the walls, and a single lamppost that flickered with an unsteady hum. The ground was dry, yet something cold lingered near their ankles, as if emotions had once pooled there like water before evaporating.

Shizukesa stepped forward and felt a faint ripple inside his chest.

The white warmth.
The black cold.
Both stirring.

Aki noticed and grabbed his arm. “Do you feel something?”

“Yes,” he said.

Mira hurried to his side, her hand hovering near his sleeve. “What colour?”

“Both.”

Her expression tightened. “I thought so.”

Before she could say more, their instructors walked further down the alley, inspecting walls and scanning the air.

Rin watched them. “They sense something too.”

Aki shivered. “I swear there is someone else here.”

Shizukesa took a breath.

A faint sound reached him.
Not quite a voice.
More like a memory of breathing.

He turned to look toward the rooftop ahead.

Nothing appeared.

Yet something had definitely watched them.

The Lotus instructor returned first. “We should move further. There is a stronger trail ahead.”

Aki’s voice wobbled. “Why does the stronger trail idea sound terrible?”

Rin did not answer.

The group turned a corner and entered a narrow street lined with closed shops. Curtains were drawn. Windows were dark. Even stray cats seemed to avoid the area.

The Insight instructor suddenly stopped.

Shizukesa nearly collided with him.

The instructor raised a hand. “Stand still.”

Mira inhaled sharply. “There is a hollow here.”

“A hollow?” Aki whispered.

“Yes,” Mira replied, voice trembling. “The kind left behind when emotion is removed so completely that nothing remains. Not even traces.”

Shizukesa felt it too.

A strange pressure.
Empty yet dense.
Silent yet loud.

It pressed against his skin like air that was too cold.

Rin rested a hand on the hilt of his wooden sword. “Where is the source?”

The instructor pointed to a door at the end of the street. It was an old laundrette. The sign hung crooked, and the glass windows were covered from inside.

“We inspected this building last night,” the instructor said. “Nothing appeared unusual, but readings were inconsistent.”

Mira stepped forward, eyes wide. “There is something inside. A remnant. A large one.”

Aki clutched Shizukesa’s sleeve. “I do not want to go inside.”

“You will not enter,” the instructor replied. “This is only observation. We marked the building to measure how your resonance reacts.”

Shizukesa stared at the door.

The closer he came, the stronger the pressure grew. Two emotions began to coil around each other inside him.

Warm.
Cold.

White.
Black.

The warmth flickered like the faint glow of his strange petal.

The cold felt deeper, pulling at something within him.

Aki’s voice lowered. “Shizukesa… your eyes.”

He blinked. “My eyes?”

“They just changed colour,” she whispered. “Only for a second.”

Mira grabbed his hand. “Step back. Now.”

Shizukesa stepped back slowly. The pressure faded slightly, but not entirely.

One of the instructors turned sharply. “What happened?”

“His resonance responded,” Mira said. “The hollow is interacting with him.”

The instructor exchanged a look with the other. “This is further confirmation. The target may be monitoring the district.”

“Target?” Aki echoed. “What target?”

Rin’s voice hardened. “The person draining emotions.”

Before anyone could speak again, something moved behind the laundrette window.

A flicker.
Too faint to see clearly.
Too quick to follow.

Aki gasped. “There is someone in there.”

“No,” Mira whispered. “Not someone.”

Shizukesa felt the cold rise sharply within him.

The pressure doubled.

Mira grabbed his shoulder. “Get away from the door.”

Shizukesa stepped back again.

The instructors lowered their stance.

Then it happened.

A sharp crack sounded from the laundrette as the glass window fractured from the inside. A wave of grey vapour erupted and crawled across the street like smoke seeking lungs.

Aki covered her mouth. “What is that?”

Mira closed her eyes in pain. “Fear. Someone’s fear. Not fresh. Old. Drained. Contaminated.”

Rin stepped between Shizukesa and the vapour without thinking. “Move behind me.”

The vapour curled along the ground, creeping toward Shizukesa like it recognised him.

Aki clutched his arm tighter. “It is going straight for him.”

Mira grabbed his wrist. “Do not let it touch you.”

Shizukesa nodded, but the cold inside him surged more violently than ever.

White warmth tried to rise against it.
Black cold crushed it down.
Two petals.
Two emotions.
Two forces trying to claim the same space.

“Stay back,” the Insight instructor ordered.

But the vapour curled towards Shizukesa, faster now.

He stumbled.

Rin caught him by the shoulder.

Aki moved without hesitation. “I will burn it.”

“No,” the instructor snapped. “It might react violently.”

Before the vapour reached them, it stopped.

It twisted on itself.

Almost like a living thing.

Then it flattened into the ground and dissipated with a soft hiss.

A silence followed.

A deep, eerie silence.

Aki trembled. “What was that?”

Mira whispered, “Someone is controlling it. Someone is close.”

Rin looked around sharply. “Where?”

Mira raised a shaking hand and pointed to the rooftops.

“There.”

Shizukesa followed her gaze.

He saw nothing.

But he felt it.

A presence.

Watching.

Waiting.

The same presence from before.

Cold.
Still.
Patient.

Aki grabbed his hand. “Whoever it is, I hate them.”

Rin’s voice dropped into a rare growl. “If they come near us, they will regret it.”

Shizukesa swallowed.

He could feel the presence receding.

Almost as if it had seen what it wanted.

The instructor spoke quietly. “We are returning to the academy. This area is no longer safe.”

Aki didn’t argue.
Rin stayed close.
Mira held Shizukesa’s hand the entire walk back.

And above them, perched on a distant rooftop, Akito Senzai watched with a mild smile.

“So,” he murmured, “you can sense me.”

He rested his chin on his hand.

“That will make this more entertaining.”

The wind carried his voice away.

And the city kept breathing, unaware that something had entered its shadow.