Epiones' POV
It had been two days since I returned to school, and the atmosphere felt shiftier than a house of cards in a breeze. The most glaring difference was the silence. Less and less students were bullying me, mostly because Chizuru was always there, an elegant, immovable shadow at my side. Once, I caught a glimpse of Jinhee down the hall. She was glaring at me with enough venom to kill a horse, but she never dared to come near. The social hierarchy was rearranging itself, and while I was the centerpiece of the change, I felt more like a spectator.
Lessons were the same, lunch time was unchanged, and I had finally stopped wondering why I got to eat a full meal while Chizuru sat across from me with nothing but a cup of black coffee. She lived on caffeine and grace, while I just tried to keep my head down. Even the conference sessions with the other girls continued. There were still glares, but they weren't as jagged as before. Surprisingly, they had actually started listening to me. They still did their delinquent things, but the edges were softer. Some of them even approached me, not in a particularly nice way, but they asked for tutoring in certain subjects. It was strange to be a source of help for people who used to enjoy my misery.
One afternoon, Miss Pillarion asked me to collect some papers from the stock room. It was a dusty, cramped place filled with the ghosts of old curriculums. As I was stacking the reams of paper, I heard a rustling sound nearby. It was coming from one of the adjacent storage rooms. I noticed one of the heavy doors was slightly ajar, so I crept over to check on it.
"Must've been the cat," I whispered to myself, but just as the words left my lips, a box fell from a high shelf with a loud thud.
I jumped, my heart hammering against my ribs. I went to pick up the box, but as I turned to face my right, I froze. A pair of eyes was peeking at me from behind a stack of crates. For a split second, I genuinely thought I was seeing a ghost. My breath hitched, but then the figure shifted. It wasn't a ghost. It was a kid.
She looked years younger than me, maybe eleven or twelve years old. She was small, with striking grayish blue hair that looked like mist, and eyes so bright blue they almost glowed in the dim light. She was absolutely quiet, but she looked terrified. She was trembling so hard the crates were vibrating.
"Hey there, what are you doing in here?" I asked softly.
The girl didn't say a word. She just looked down at her shoes, her small hands balled into fists. It was as if I weren't even there, as if a quiet wind had just passed by her. I felt a pang of worry. Are kids really this hard to talk to, or do I just give off a scary aura? I felt like crying. I wasn't used to being the intimidating one.
I tried to approach her again, but the sound of heavy footsteps echoed from the hallway outside. My instincts, sharpened by years of hiding from my fear, went into overdrive. I didn't know what came over me, but I grabbed a dark blanket that was covering one of the old printers. I patted off the thick layer of dust as quickly as I could, then threw it over her, tucking her into the shadows between the crates.
"Shh, don't make a noise, okay?" I whispered.
She looked confused, her blue eyes wide, but she stayed still. I didn't wait for a reply. I smoothed my hair, picked up my stack of papers, and stepped out into the hallway, trying to look as busy and bored as possible.
They approached. dressed in teacher uniforms, the crisp kind worn by those in higher administrative positions, but something about them felt wrong. When they saw me, they stopped. They were smiling, but the smiles didn't reach their eyes.
"Hey there, lovely morning by the way," one of them said, his voice smooth and professional. "May we ask, by any chance, have you seen a little girl? Grayish blue hair and bright blue eyes?"
My stomach dropped. That was her. They seemed nice enough on the surface, but my gut was screaming at me to lie. I had learned the hard way never to trust people with voices that were too gentle and smiles that were too perfect. They were too nice. It felt like a mask.
"Wait," I said, putting on a thoughtful expression. "Is that girl wearing a white school uniform with a navy blue skirt and white knee socks?"
Their eyes widened in unison.
"YES! Oh my, yes, that's her! Have you seen her somewhere?"
"Yes!" I pointed toward the far end of the wing, away from the stock room. "I saw her running that way just a minute ago when I was getting these copy papers. She looked like she was in a hurry."
They seemed convinced. They nodded to each other, their movements synchronized and efficient.
"Thank you," the leader said, leaning in slightly. "We actually saw her run this way, so we had a high idea that you saw her. It's hard to miss her silhouette in these halls." He smiled again, and this time, it felt genuinely creepy. It was the smile of someone who had caught a scent"
"Alright, thanks again. Need help with those papers?"
"No thank you, I can handle this," I replied, keeping my voice steady.
"Alright, we'll go now."
They took off running in the direction I had pointed. I watched them until they turned the corner, then I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. My lie had worked. I knew that telling them I hadn't seen her would have been a mistake. They knew she had come this way. If I had said I saw nothing, they would have searched the room I just came out of.
By verifying her description and giving them a fake direction, I gave them exactly what they wanted to hear. That is how you escape a lie. It also helped that I could literally control my vitals, keeping my heart from racing so they couldn't sense my panic.
But she wasn't safe. Those men would realize soon enough that the hallway was a dead end. I had to get her out of there, but I still had classes, and the campus was crawling with staff.
I went back into the room and pulled off the black blanket. The girl was still there, but her eyes were brimming with tears. She looked like she was about to shatter.
"Hey there, sorry about that," I said, reaching out a hand. "Are you related to those people? I had to drive them away. I felt like you maybe needed some alone time..."
I stopped talking when a tear finally rolled down her cheek. My heart broke. Oh no, I made a little girl cry! I started to panic, waving my hands around as I tried to comfort her.
"N-n-no, I'm sorry! Please don't cry!" My voice was cracking. I hated seeing children in distress. It reminded me too much of myself.
I knew I couldn't leave her there. I decided to use the "professional escapee" route, the paths used by the seniors who loved cutting classes. I took her small, cold hand in mine and led her through the back corridors of the school. As we walked, I had to make sure I wasn't accidentally kidnapping a child who just wanted to go home.
"So," I asked softly, "are those men your guardians?"
She was silent for a long time, her gaze fixed on the floor. Finally, she whispered, "Yes, they are."
I stopped dead in my tracks. Of course they were! And here I was, literally stealing a child from her authorities. My mind raced. Maybe she was just being rebellious? Maybe I had jumped to a massive, illegal conclusion?
"Oh," I said, feeling a wave of guilt. "Want me to take you back to them?"
She snapped her head up and shook it violently. Her grip on my hand tightened a little, as if she was panicking. "They are scary people," she whispered, her voice trembling. "They wanted to hurt me."
That was all I needed to hear. Child abusers. They were child abusers hiding in plain sight with gentle voices and ironed shirts. My guilt vanished, replaced by a cold, sharp anger. I would believe a child over a "nice" adult any day of the week. Children are honest about fear. Adults are only honest when it suits them.
"I see," I said, squeezing her hand back. "But are you sure you're safer if you run away? They seemed very concerned about you."
She didn't answer with words. She just squeezed my hand again, her small body leaning into mine. She was terrified of letting go.
"Alright," I decided. "Time to take you to my secret place."
I led her to the far edge of the campus, where the trees grew thick and the fences were high. Deep in the brush was my mini tree house. I hadn't built it; I had just discovered it one day. It probably belonged to some seniors who had graduated years ago. Since no one claimed it, I had taken ownership of it, cleaning out the leaves and making it a sanctuary. This is where I used to cry whenever unfortunate things happen to me.
I helped her climb the shaky wooden slats.
"Alright, stay here, okay? I have to go back to class so they don't get suspicious. Later, I'll pick you up and escort you outside the school."
She nodded solemnly. I reached into my bag and handed her a book I had been carrying around. It was a novel about criminal cases, probably a bit heavy for a twelve-year-old, but she took it with interest. I was surprised to see her immediately open it and start reading.
I hurried back to class, my mind spinning. When I sat down, Chizuru looked at me, her violet eyes Narrowing slightly.
"You were gone for a long time, Epione," she remarked.
I launched into a very detailed, very rehearsed lie. I talked about the printer jamming, the stack of papers being heavier than expected, and a brief conversation I had with another teacher. I kept my breathing shallow and my heart rate steady. Chizuru watched me for a long moment, then she nodded. She believed me. The rest of the day passed in a blur of lectures and notes, but my soul was out in that tree house, hoping the girl was safe.
After school, Chizuru told me she had to leave early. She and the director were going overseas for an urgent meeting. Her butler would pick me up after my final period. I wasn't going back to my uncle's house today. Chizuru's family had contacted him, telling him I would be staying at their mansion for a while to focus on "specialized studies." He had agreed instantly because they offered him a significant amount of money. I wasn't surprised. I knew my uncle would sell me for a handful of coins if the lighting was right.
As soon as the bell rang, I sprinted to the tree house. I found the girl fast asleep on the wooden floor, the book resting on her chest. Since I had been dismissed early, I decided to let her sleep for a little longer. I sat beside her and watched her.
Up close, her features were even more unique. Her hair was definitely a misty, bluish gray. She looked like she might be a foreigner. Her skin was incredibly pale, almost like porcelain. But then I noticed something that made my blood run cold. Around her neck was a thin, high-quality collar. It wasn't a necklace; it was a restraint. It was currently uncuffed, but it was there. When she shifted in her sleep, I saw a small, intricate tattoo on the nape of her neck. I couldn't make out the symbol, but it looked like a serial number or a brand. These weren't just "scary people." This was something much worse.
After a few minutes, I gently woke her up. We moved through the shadows of the school grounds and slipped out through a gap in the perimeter fence. I scanned the street, my heart in my throat, but the men in the teacher uniforms were nowhere to be seen. I let out a sigh of relief.
Then, a sleek black car approached us. My muscles tensed, and out of instinct, I stepped in front of the girl, shielding her with my body. A tall, elegant lady stepped out of the car. She looked frantic, her hair slightly disheveled.
The girl behind me whispered one word: "Mama."
The tension left my body instantly. "Mama" was a word of safety. I stepped aside as the lady ran toward us and scooped the girl into a fierce, desperate hug.
"Phelia! Oh dear, thank God you're safe, sweetheart!" she cried, burying her face in the girl's hair. It was a beautiful, raw moment. I felt like an intruder, so I started to back away to give them space.
The lady looked up at me. Phelia whispered something into her ear I can hear words but too foreign for me to understand, she was pointing at me. The mother nodded, her eyes filling with tears of gratitude.
"Thank you so much for looking after my child," the lady said, her voice shaking. "She was being chased by our enemies. They are trying to use her as bait to force us to give up our company. Thank you for protecting her... really."
"Oh, it was nothing, ma'am," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. I felt a bit embarrassed. "It's only natural to help."
She smiled, a genuine, warm smile that reminded me of what a mother should be. "Are you going home? Want me to give you a ride?"
"Thank you, ma'am, but I already have someone picking me up," I replied.
"I see. Then we'll be on our way. Take care, dear." As she patted my shoulder before walking back to her car
"You too ma'am, stay safe" I smiled
I watched them drive away, feeling a strange sense of accomplishment. Chizuru's butler pulled up a moment later, and we began the drive to the Katsura estate.
When I arrived at the mansion, I was greeted by a small army of workers. It was my first time seeing so many people there. Usually, it was just Chizuru and her butler, but Chizuru had mentioned that the staff lived in a separate facility nearby. They were polite, moving with a quiet efficiency that felt almost like a military operation.
I went to my room and collapsed onto the bed. I needed to rest before I started my evening routine. My mind kept drifting back to that girl, Phelia. She was so young, yet she was already being hunted. I remembered her speaking to her mother as they walked to the car—it sounded like Dutch or Russian, something sharp and foreign.
I closed my eyes, a small smile tugging at my lips. I didn't know who those men were, and I didn't know what that collar meant, but for today, the girl was safe. In a world where everything felt like it was spiraling out of control, that was enough.