Epiones' POV
The silence that followed the quad's departure was heavy, a thick, suffocating blanket that lingered for several minutes as the echoes of their scrambling footsteps faded. I stood there, clutching my clipboard so hard the plastic groaned, waiting for my heart to stop its frantic hammering against my ribs. Beside me, Chizuru remained perfectly still, a serene statue in the middle of the school's shadow. Finally, the tension began to dissipate, like a fever breaking in the afternoon chill.
"I am not sure which is funnier," Chizuru's silvery voice finally broke the quiet, cutting through the stagnant air with the precision of a laser. "The fact that I actually let a confidential conversation unfold right in front of me without intervening, which isn't like me at all. Or the fact that you and that Jinhee girl look so much alike."
I blinked, the sudden shift in topic catching me completely off guard. I looked up at her, trying to process the words. "Wait, what?"
She tilted her head, her dark bangs shifting to reveal that flawless, porcelain forehead. "Despite the massive gap in your personalities, your facial features are strikingly similar. It is unexpectedly unpredictable. Like finding a duplicate file in a completely different folder."
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "I... I never noticed. The resemblance, I mean. Jinhee is so... bold. I am just me."
Chizuru chuckled, a warm, resonant sound that seemed to vibrate in the air between us, easing the remaining stiffness in my shoulders. "Don't overthink it. It is just another one of my random observations. Sorry to bring that up. Besides, there is no way the two of you are actually related. Honestly, the thought of it is a bit of a stretch."
We shared a light laugh, the sheer absurdity of the idea helping us move forward. We continued walking through the campus, finally letting the morning's drama fade into the background. For a few minutes, we were just two students retreating into the comfort of our own little world, away from the weight of counseling sessions and school hierarchies.
But our peace was short-lived. As we rounded the corner of the administration building, a man in a sharp charcoal suit emerged from the shade. He was tall, formal, and carried an aura of quiet authority that made the surrounding air feel heavy.
"Young Mistress Katsura," he said, bowing deeply.
Chizuru paused, her expression remaining pleasant and light. The man leaned down, whispering something into her ear. It was a short, jagged sentence, spoken so softly I couldn't catch a single syllable, yet the man's eyes were hard as flint. To anyone else, it would have looked like a private family matter being relayed to a wealthy heiress. To me, it just felt like another part of the mystery that was Chizuru.
Chizuru didn't miss a beat. She turned back to me with a look of pure, apologetic sweetness, her eyes wide and shimmering. "Oh, Epione! I am so sorry, that is my father's assistant. He just arrived in the city unexpectedly and he's insisting I show him around the campus area. I am going to have to run."
She reached out, squeezing my hand warmly. Her skin was still that strange, marble-like cold, but her grip was full of affection. "I feel terrible leaving you like this after everything that happened. Look, there is a taxi right there. Let me get it for you."
Before I could protest or tell her I could just walk to the bus stop, she had already waved the cab down with practiced, effortless grace. She tucked me into the backseat, her smile bright and reassuring. "Text me when you're home, okay? I will call you later!"
She stood on the curb, a lone figure in a pristine white blazer, waving cheerfully until the taxi turned the corner and she vanished from my sight.
Eyes Above
The moment the taxi was out of sight, the warmth in Chizuru's eyes vanished. It didn't just fade; it was extinguished, replaced by a gaze as cold and analytical as black glass. The "assistant" straightened up, his posture shifting from formal to subordinately lethal. Chizuru's arm dropped to her side, her movements becoming terrifyingly efficient.
"You said they are at the base?" she asked. Her voice had dropped into a low, dangerous tone that hummed with an underlying mechanical resonance.
"Yes, Mistress," the man replied. "Three of them. We intercepted them trying to skip town."
"Good. Let us go see if I cannot improve their manners."
The Katsura Base
The Katsura Base was a sterile, soundproofed warehouse tucked away in the heart of the industrial district, a place where the city's noise went to die. When Chizuru stepped inside, the heavy iron doors sealing with a pressurized hiss, she was greeted by a sight that would have made the average person retch. Two young men. the very ones who had spent months bruising Epione's spirit and body were strapped to heavy steel chairs bolted to the concrete floor. They were already badly beaten, their designer clothes torn and their faces swollen into unrecognizable masks of purple and red.
Chizuru walked toward them, her heels clicking rhythmically on the floor. She reached into her blazer and pulled out a pair of pristine white gloves, pulling them on with a sharp snap of fabric against skin.
"Ahh, the world is small. We just met earlier, but life gave us another encounter, don't you think?" she started. Her voice was smooth, melodic, and utterly soul-chilling. "Sorry," she said, her head tilting at that bird-like angle. "I told my men to be gentle with you... unless you tried to fight back. It seems you did, so they had to remove their gentle parenting facade."
"You piece of shit!" one of them hissed, coughing up a spray of blood that speckled the grey concrete.
"Ooh, speaking of parents," Chizuru leaned in, her shadow looming over him like a suffocating weight. "Let us talk about yours, shall we? Apparently, this should be a family matter of yours, but unluckily for you, I love joining family affairs. So... about that case two weeks ago. Human trafficking. Where did the eight students go?"
"Why are you asking us?" the second boy whimpered, his voice high and thin with terror. "We know nothing! Our parents... they don't tell us their business!"
"Playing hard to get, huh?" Chizuru reached into a small leather kit on the nearby table and pulled out a specialized nipper cutter. The metal gleamed under the harsh industrial lights. In this moment, the image of the "perfect exchange student" that Epione held so dear was officially dead.
"Useless things are bound to be discarded," Chizuru mused, testing the tension of the tool. The click-click-click of the metal echoed in the soundproofed room. "And if your tongues are useless because they won't speak the answers I want..."
She moved with a predator's speed, her gloved hand clamping onto the first boy's jaw. Her strength was immense, her fingers feeling like steel bars as she forced his mouth open and pulled his tongue forward. He gagged, his body thrashing against the restraints, his eyes bulging in pure, unadulterated horror.
"Might as well cut—"
"N-noo! We will speak! Please! Stop!" the boy beside him screamed through his tears, his body shaking violently enough to rattle the steel chair.
"Fine." Chizuru let go and stepped back, smoothing her blazer. A bright, beautiful, and utterly terrifying smile crossed her face. "Info. Now."
The boys scrambled to talk, their voices overlapping in a desperate, pathetic bid for mercy. "The shipping docks! Terminal 4! They are being moved to a freighter called The Blue Marlin at midnight! Our parents... they are just the middlemen! They were paid to provide the local stock! We just helped with the transport logs!"
Chizuru's smile didn't fade, but her eyes grew sharper, the pupils dilating as her internal systems recorded every word, cross-referencing the names with maritime databases.
"And the buyer?" she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Who is receiving the stock at the final destination?"
"I remember they call them the Architects!" they sobbed in unison. "They are the ones who wanted the students! They pay in crypto through a shell company in the Caymans! That is all we know! Please, just let us go!"
Chizuru stood tall, her white gloves still spotless. She looked down at them, a look of mild disappointment crossing her face. "The Architect. How very dramatic. It seems we have a ship to intercept."
She paused for a brief moment before getting something from her bag
"Alright, look here," Chizuru began, her voice dropping into a terrifyingly pleasant lilt. She reached into her bag and pulled out three worn notebooks, fanning them out like a deck of cards. "Familiar? These are the assignments you've been 'requesting' from Epione. Since you're so fond of her work, I thought it was only fair to see how much you've actually learned."
"W-what do you mean?" Marcus stammered. His skin had turned a sickly, translucent gray, and thick beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, stinging his eyes.
Chizuru's smile widened, but it didn't reach her glowing eyes. "Did you know that the human brain becomes hyper-active in decision-making once it enters panic mode? It's a fascinating survival reflex. So, let's test yours. There are ten items in this assignment. For every wrong answer, one of my men will drill a tiny, surgical hole right into your skull. If you're too stupid to pass but lucky enough to survive all ten holes... well, then you're free to go. Now, shall we begin?"
She didn't wait for his answer. She turned toward her men, her voice shifting instantly from a mocking schoolgirl to a cold, authoritative commander.
"Facilitate the next stage," she ordered, her tone flat and final. "Once you have extracted the data from their phones, dismiss them in a clean manner. and by 'clean,' I mean they are never to see the light of the school sun again."
As she walked away, the air was filled with the sudden, frantic wailing of the group. They begged, they screamed, and they clawed at the floor, but Chizuru never looked back.
As she walked toward the exit, Chizuru pulled out her phone. Her thumb hovered over the screen for a second before she typed a quick message to Epione.
Hope you got home safe, Epi-chan! Rest well!
She hit send, the blue light of the screen reflecting in her cold, unblinking eyes as the warehouse doors groaned shut behind her.