Epiones' POV
The morning air in Section Dream 2 was thick with the scent of floor wax and the quiet hum of a new beginning, but the peace was fragile. I could feel the eyes of our new classmates on us, curious and distant, until a familiar, heavy vibration rattled the floorboards.
"You know those three?" Chizuru whispered, her shoulder lightly nudging mine.
"Unfortunately," I muttered, my stomach knotting.
The classroom door didn't just open; it was occupied. Marcus Hallowhand swaggered toward our desk, his two shadows trailing behind like hyenas waiting for a carcass. He ignored me entirely, a calculated insult I was used to, but his eyes locked onto Chizuru with a predatory, brazen smirk that made my skin crawl.
"What a surprise, little nerd," Marcus chirped, his voice dripping with false sugar, though his gaze never left my friend. "I was looking for you in Dream 4, but here you are in Dream 2 sitting with a pretty lady. What is your name, beautiful?"
Chizuru didn't look up from her notebook. She didn't even pause her pen. "I do not accept mischief, and I certainly do not give my information to those who bring it," she deadpanned.
Marcus's cool shattered for a split second, a twitch of irritation crossing his brow before he forced a loud, hollow chuckle. "I am trying to be a nice guy, baby. Don't play hard to get. Unless you want me to skip the introductions and just call you my future wife?"
"It is Katsura Chizuru," she replied, her voice flat and as cold as a winter morning in the mountains. "And you are allowed to call me nothing. Now, pretend this scenario never happened and leave us in peace."
Marcus turned a deep, angry crimson. The rejection, witnessed by the silent room while his friends teases him by the rejection he earned.
It seems like his ego couldn't handle it, so he snaps "And who are you to dictate to me? My father owns this school! I could rip you apart like a sheet of paper!" He slammed his hands onto her desk, trapping her in the space, leaning in until their faces were mere inches apart.
Chizuru didn't blink. She didn't flinch. She just stared into his eyes with a terrifyingly calm intensity. "Is that all?"
Marcus snarled, losing whatever grip he had on his temper, and grabbed her arm violently. I bolted up from my seat, my hands shaking as I tried to pry his fingers away from her sleeve. "Stop it! You are hurting her!"
With an effortless shove, Marcus sent me sprawling to the floor. "Back off bottom-feeder! I will deal with you after I am done with her!"
His friends moved like well-trained dogs, pinning me to the ground. I winced as my shoulder hit the hard tile, the bruises from yesterday's hallway encounter still fresh and throbbing. They laughed, their collective gaze heavy with a cruelty I knew all too well.
Then, Chizuru laughed. It wasn't a girl's giggle. It was a soft, dangerous sound that seemed to hum with the same subsonic frequency I had felt in the music room.
"How childish, Marcus. It does not suit your matured face at all."
"How did you know my name?" Marcus stammered, his grip loosening as she stood up. She seemed to grow in height, radiating an aura of lethal grace that made the room feel small.
"My name is Katsura Chizuru," she said, her voice echoing in the sudden, deafening quiet of the classroom. "I really hate bragging, but if it is you, why not? I am the daughter of the founder of Katsura Heavy Industries and the inheritor of Katsura National Research University. I am... slightly less than pleased to meet you."
The blood drained from Marcus's face so fast I thought he might faint. He stood like a statue, a bucket of ice water poured over his massive ego. "L-let her go," he stammered to his friends, gesturing frantically at me.
They released me, and I scrambled to my feet, retreating behind Chizuru. Marcus tried to salvage whatever pride he had left. "I don't care who your father is. You're just a girl." He turned his venom back to me, desperate to feel powerful again. "Trash chick! Our assignments. Now!"
I reached for the notebooks in my bag, the old reflex of fear taking over, but Chizuru caught my wrist. Her touch was ice-cold but steady. She took the three notebooks herself and began flipping through them with a mocking air of curiosity.
"Assignments? Why is a 'king' like you asking a peasant to do his work? Isn't that a bit... closeted of you?"
"I am not gay!" Marcus roared, his face twisting as he charged at her.
What happened next was a blur of motion that my eyes could barely track. Chizuru's reflexes were like a camera flash. She caught his wrist in mid-air, swatted his other hand away with a sickeningly loud thud, and gripped his clavicle like a pressurized steel C-clamp.
Marcus buckled to his knees, a strangled groan of agony escaping his throat. When his friends tried to intervene, she didn't even look at them. She lifted Marcus effortlessly, as if he weighed nothing at all, and shoved him into them with a swift, punishing mid-kick to his stomach.
As they scrambled back, tripping over chairs and each other, Chizuru dropped into a stance that made the air in the room feel heavy. Her right foot was back, her left crossing in front, one hand tucked behind her back while the other was raised like a striking serpent.
"The Dancing White Cobra's Slay stance..." Marcus whispered, sweat drenching his brow as he stared at her. "W-where did you learn that? No... your father wouldn't teach you that far."
His voice was cowering, completely betraying the facade he had built. He looked at her not as a girl, but as a predator he had accidentally walked into.
"Do you really want to know?" she asked with a smile that felt carnivorous.
The bullies didn't wait for an answer. They scrambled out of the room, Marcus throwing one last weak, trembling threat over his shoulder that no one believed.
"You are amazing," I breathed once the room was empty. My heart was still racing, my hands tucked into my sleeves. "Is that Aikido?"
"My dad started my training when I was four," she said, her bubbly, gummy smile returning as if she hadn't just dismantled three boys with the efficiency of a machine. "He is all bark and no bite, Epione. His grip was as loose as a mussel."
The rest of the morning was a whirlwind of new faces and sharp transitions. Our new advisor, Ms. Connosseu, was stoic and sharp, moving through the curriculum with a no-nonsense attitude that kept the class in check. We also met the class president of Dream 2, a girl named Everdawn. She seemed just as cold and dismissive as the bullies from our old section, watching us with a calculated distance that made me feel like a bug under a microscope.
As the lunch bell rang, a light drizzle began to fall, turning the world outside the windows into a grey, blurred watercolor. "Let us get out of here," Chizuru said, pulling me toward the parking lot where a sleek, black Volkswagen was waiting.
We drove through the rain to a vibrant, nature-themed diner called The Green Panlafilo. The interior was a sanctuary, filled with hanging vines, soft LED lights, and the comforting smell of herbal tea and fresh bread. It felt like stepping into another dimension, far away from the bruises and the whispers of the school.
"My obāchan used to take me here," Chizuru said softly as we sat by a window, watching the raindrops race down the glass. "She was the most patient person I knew. She is the reason my sister and I stopped fighting. Whenever we would visit her in the Philippines, I was always shocked at how we always had hidden pocket money and treats tucked away for us."
"She sounds wonderful," I said, watching Chizuru's expression soften. It was the most human I had ever seen her look. "Is she still in the Philippines?"
Chizuru gazed out at the rain, her eyes reflecting the grey, muted sky. The hum in her chest seemed to quiet for a moment. "Yep. After all... it is the place where she wanted to be buried."
I froze, the words I was about to say dying in my throat. The cozy atmosphere of the diner suddenly felt very cold.
"She is dead" Chizuru whispered.