Yuxin's footsteps echoed faintly down the polished corridor, the kind of quiet shuffle born not from haste but from pure boredom. She stretched her arms once, jaw parting in a long yawn that scratched her throat.
Ugh… what now? The thought hung heavy in her mind, circling lazily as she let her gaze drift across the empty walls. It was the weekend, the academy felt emptier than usual, and the silence only made her feel the weight of having nothing to do. She considered the cafeteria again, maybe the garden, or just finding a spot to sleep until the day rotted away.
But before her thoughts could settle, her shoulder bumped into something firm. The impact jolted her a step back.
A soft thud followed—the sound of books scattering across the floor.
Her eyes dropped, catching the pale cover of one, the red-stamped seal of another. Then she looked up.
A girl stood there, slim frame wrapped in the faintest air of winter itself, long strands of snow-colored hair slipping across her shoulders. One eye, a muted gray, watched Yuxin with detached calm; the other, a sharp crimson gleam, almost glowed beneath the corridor's light.
Yuxin blinked, her tone flat but polite.
"…My bad. Wasn't watching where I was going."
The girl inclined her head the slightest fraction, voice steady and faintly hollow.
"No. It was me. I was elsewhere in my mind."
Her books lay scattered like fallen leaves, yet she didn't kneel. She simply stood, still as a statue, observing. Yuxin exhaled through her nose, crouched down, and began gathering them up. She slid one heavy tome against her palm, stacked another atop it, then reached for the last. All the while, she felt the weight of that sharp crimson-gray gaze locked onto her, assessing each movement with unnerving precision.
Finally, she rose and extended the stack toward the girl.
"There. You dropped these."
For a moment, silence. Then the girl reached out, fingertips brushing the edges of the leather covers. Her eyes softened by the faintest fraction, though her face remained unreadable.
"…Thank you,"
she said. And then, her lips curved in the smallest, almost imperceptible line as her words followed, quiet but certain. "You're not like the rumors."
The sentence landed heavy in the air, sharp enough that Yuxin tilted her head, expression flickering between disinterest and confusion.
"…Rumors?"
The girl gave no clarification. She only hugged the books against her chest, the red of her left eye gleaming faintly like a dying ember against winter's frost, and studied Yuxin as if she were a puzzle worth solving.
The girl's voice cut through the still corridor, calm but edged with a clarity that made it impossible to ignore.
"Rumors say you carry an aura that pushes people away. That no one dares to approach you."
Yuxin's lips curved faintly—not in amusement, but in acknowledgment, her tone flat as ever.
"Then the rumors are right. I don't want anyone getting close to me."
Her gaze shifted, not to the girl's face this time, but down to the green tie resting neatly against her uniform. It marked her as a second-year—older, a senior. Yuxin studied it in silence, eyes narrowing slightly, her thoughts guarded, circling.
The girl tilted her head just enough to let her pale hair fall from her shoulder, her crimson-gray eyes fixed on Yuxin with an intensity that felt almost invasive. Then, she asked without preamble:
"Do you have a problem?"
The question landed like a stone tossed into still water, shattering the air between them.
Yuxin blinked once, her brow twitching faintly, confusion sliding into her voice.
"…What kind of question is that?"
The girl didn't flinch. Her tone remained calm, but there was something weighted beneath it, something that didn't feel casual at all.
"Your eyes. They look like someone carrying a problem that never leaves them. It reminds me of how I used to look."
Yuxin's jaw tensed, her body still, but the girl continued, stepping closer with quiet certainty.
"I'll help you."
The words felt foreign, absurd. Yuxin's expression shifted into subtle disbelief.
"…What? You—senior I don't even know—suddenly tell me I have problems and then offer to fix them? That's ridiculous."
She turned slightly, intending to brush past, but the girl's hand shot out. Her fingers wrapped firmly around Yuxin's, not harsh, but steady—an anchor that didn't allow her to move.
Their eyes locked. The corridor's silence thickened until Yuxin could hear her own heartbeat, every thud louder than it should have been.
The girl's crimson eye glinted as she spoke, her voice slower now, more deliberate.
"Your problem… is your past."
The words dug like knives under skin, too precise, too true.
Yuxin froze. No flicker touched her face, no gasp or widening of eyes, but inside, the strike landed clean. The cold grip of memory pressed against her chest, that heavy shadow she had spent so long trying to bury.
Yet she gave nothing back—no reaction, no admission. Just silence, her hand still caught in the girl's, her eyes unreadable while her mind screamed.
The girl finally loosened her grip, but not before speaking in that same calm, deliberate tone, her crimson-gray gaze fixed on Yuxin.
"Izanami Yuki. Second-year. Head of the Radio Club here in Asterblume."
And with that, she tugged at Yuxin's wrist again—firm, steady, leaving no space for refusal. Yuxin could have pulled away if she wanted, but instead she allowed herself to be led, half curious, half annoyed at the audacity of this senior who acted like she already knew her.
The halls grew quieter as they walked, their footsteps echoing until they reached a door marked with a simple brass plate: Broadcast Room. Yuki pushed it open without hesitation, and the air inside hummed faintly with dormant magic, threads of energy woven through crystal fixtures and rune-lined instruments stacked neatly against the walls.
At the center of the room, bent over a console bristling with glowing inscriptions, sat another girl. Her hair was short, cut in soft waves, and a pair of enchanted headphones rested crookedly around her neck. She turned at the sound of the door, brows knitting as her sharp amber eyes fell on the unfamiliar presence Yuki had dragged in.
"Uh… Yuyun?" Her voice carried a mix of confusion and suspicion. "Who's that you're hauling in here?"
Yuxin stiffened at the nickname—Yuyun—but Yuki ignored the jab, her voice clipped and unwavering.
"She's with me. I have business."
The girl at the console—Mirin Cazva, deputy of the club, as Yuki soon explained—blinked twice, then exhaled through her nose and leaned back in her chair, muttering, "You always have 'business'..."
Yuki didn't rise to it. She strode directly toward the broadcasting mic at the heart of the room, her presence suddenly commanding despite her cold detachment. With a flick of her fingers, the crystals flared alive, the runes etching themselves into light, amplifying her voice across the academy's airwaves.
She leaned in, her lips brushing the mic with a voice both calm and sharp.
"Minase Fuuka. Report to the Radio Club room immediately."
The name carried across the network like a blade, echoing down unseen halls, impossible to ignore.
Before Yuxin could process what was happening, Yuki turned back, catching her by the wrist again, and pushed her gently but insistently down into one of the cushioned seats near the side table.
"Sit. You'll stay."
Yuxin scowled faintly, irritation breaking through her otherwise bored mask.
"…Do I even get a choice?"
Yuki's eyes held hers, firm as stone. "No."
Then, as though the tension didn't exist, Yuki glanced sideways at Mirin. Her voice softened only a fraction, but the order was unmistakable.
"Prepare tea. For both of us."
Mirin blinked, half incredulous, half resigned, muttering under her breath about Yuki's habit of dragging strangers into the club. But she stood anyway, her hands already weaving subtle lines of magic to summon steaming porcelain cups and fresh leaves.
Yuxin leaned back in the chair, arms crossed, her expression flat but her mind a storm. This senior—this Izanami Yuki—was clearly intent on something, and Yuxin wasn't sure if she should be annoyed, intrigued, or just walk out.
Yuxin let her fingers drum lightly against the porcelain teacup Mirin had set down, her face half-hidden in the steam curling upward. Her voice came low, edged with a mixture of annoyance and genuine confusion.
"…What is this supposed to mean? Dragging me here, calling people over the broadcast… And you—suddenly saying you want to help me? Why?"
For once, Yuki didn't immediately answer. She sat across from her, pale hands folded, crimson-gray eyes steady and unreadable. The silence stretched until Mirin's soft clinks of glass and paper rustle from the console became the only sounds in the room. Finally, Yuki drew a slow breath and spoke, each word deliberate.
"Because your eyes…" Her gaze sharpened, unblinking.
"…they're holding something. Something heavy. I know that look too well."
Yuxin's brows twitched at the weight of her tone. For a moment, she searched Yuki's expression for a hint of mockery, but there was none. Just blunt certainty. It made her feel strangely exposed, as though her skin had been peeled back and her insides laid bare under that gaze.
Ridiculous… she thought, a flicker of unease passing beneath her blank face. She leaned back, shoulders settling against the chair, her voice softer than usual but firm.
"…You've got it wrong, Senior. Even if you think you know me from a look, you don't. Not really. And I don't need help. Whatever you think you see—it's not your business."
Her words weren't laced with hostility, just a cool finality, a refusal lined with faint respect. She didn't shove the hand away that had been offered; she simply set it aside.
But Yuki didn't retreat. Her lips barely moved, yet her eyes grew sharper, more insistent, as she leaned forward across the table. The subtle distance between them evaporated, and Yuxin could feel the senior's steady breath brushing the space between them.
"You may not say it. But your eyes do."
Her voice dropped lower, steady as stone.
"I've seen that same gaze in my own reflection before. The same weight. The same refusal. You can deny it all you like, but I've never been wrong about this. Not once."
For the first time in a while, Yuxin found herself silent—not because she had nothing to say, but because Yuki's conviction was unnervingly solid. Like she wasn't guessing, but reliving. And that certainty sank into the pit of her chest, where all the shadows of her past coiled and waited.
The clink of porcelain broke the silence as Mirin set down a silver tray between them, two steaming cups and a small dish of biscuits laid neatly across its surface. Her voice carried a dry humor, light enough to crack the heavy air.
"Yuyun, it's not good to terrify the juniors the first time you meet them. You'll give the club a bad reputation."
She straightened, folding her arms loosely and tilting her head toward Yuxin with a half-smile. "Usually she's calm, almost boringly calm. I don't know what's gotten into her today."
Yuxin sat stiff, unsure if she should laugh, glare, or just stand up and walk away. Her mind spun circles—this was new. She'd been pushed, cornered, dragged into a space she didn't ask for, and now… she couldn't read what was happening. For once, she didn't have a script.
Across from her, Yuki sank back into her chair, no longer leaning forward, her crimson eye hidden half beneath her lashes as she lifted her teacup. She drank without hurry, the steam veiling her expression into something unreadable again.
Yuxin glanced down at her own cup, the delicate ripples of amber liquid shifting when she shifted. She hesitated. Just stared. Her reflection blinked back up at her from its surface, eyes tired, guarded.
Mirin noticed, stepping closer with that same easy warmth.
"Relax. No need to sit like you're on trial. Just tea."
The words loosened Yuxin's shoulders, if only slightly. She lifted the cup and took a small sip. At once the flavor spread—subtle, earthy, with a faint lingering bitterness that settled at the back of her tongue. Her expression barely moved, but inside she recoiled. Not her taste.
"…Do you have sugar?"
Her voice, though plain, held a rare note of politeness.
Mirin blinked once, then smiled wider.
"Ah. So the shadow queen does sweeten up a little."
She moved toward a side cabinet, rummaged briefly, and returned with a polished wooden box. Inside, neat white cubes glistened faintly beneath the glow of the runes. She placed it squarely on the table between them.
"There. Add as much as you want. No one's judging."
Yuxin reached forward, fingers steady, and dropped a cube into her cup. It cracked against the porcelain, dissolved slowly, and the faint swirl of sweetness spread through the bitter tea. She stirred it once, quiet, then lifted the cup again.
For a moment, silence hung between them—Yuki watching over the rim of her teacup, Mirin half-amused, and Yuxin caught in a rare moment of uncertainty, trying to decide if this small act of sweetness actually made the weight in her chest any easier to carry.
The door creaked open, spilling a faint light across the quiet Radio Club room. A girl stepped in with a slow, steady stride—her Academy uniform pressed sharp, the green tie marking her as another upperclassman. Her hair fell smoothly over her shoulders, her expression carved into something neutral yet faintly disinterested.
She stopped just a few steps inside, her gaze moving lazily over Yuki at the mic, then at Yuxin, who still sat there stiff as stone. Her voice came out flat, almost monotone, as if being summoned here was more of an errand than a request.
"Why did you call me so suddenly?"
Yuki leaned back, her chair creaking, eyes narrowing with that quiet weight of someone who had already decided. Her tone was calm, but pointed.
"I need your help."
The girl raised a brow, unimpressed, her hand resting lightly on the strap of her bag.
"Help? What kind of help are we talking about?"
Yuki didn't answer right away. Instead, she lifted her hand and gestured toward Yuxin, her movement slow, deliberate, almost ceremonial.
"It's her. This girl's carrying something… the same thing I once did when I first entered this Academy."
The upperclassman's eyes shifted, finally resting fully on Yuxin. Her steps were unhurried as she closed the distance, each footfall carrying that air of inevitability, like she had already decided what she was about to do. She muttered softly, her voice flat, edged with a trace of resignation.
"If that's true… then it's serious."
Without waiting for permission, she reached out and cupped Yuxin's face between both hands. Her touch was cool, deliberate, not tender but precise, forcing Yuxin's gaze to lock with hers. The closeness felt almost suffocating, her eyes boring into Yuxin's with a strange sharpness—like she was dissecting her soul with nothing but eye contact.
Yuxin stiffened, her voice caught between irritation and politeness.
"What exactly are you doing…?"
The girl silenced her without a word, pressing her thumbs lightly against Yuxin's jaw as if to hold her steady.
"Don't talk. Just stay still."
The silence stretched. The air in the room grew heavy. Yuxin's chest rose and fell unevenly as he endured the scrutiny, the weight of those eyes prying deeper and deeper. Finally, the girl released her, withdrawing her hands with a faint sigh.
"…Yes. It might be the same case. The same as Yuki's."
Her words dropped with certainty, leaving Yuxin frozen in place, unable to decide if he should feel anger, confusion, or a sliver of fear. The quiet room seemed to close in tighter around them, the weight of unspoken truths pressing down.
Yuxin blinked a few times, still caught off guard by how boldly these seniors moved around her life like it was theirs to handle. Her brows furrowed slightly as she studied the pair—Yuki with her stone-cut gaze and now this new girl who had just pried into her soul without asking. They sat together now, side by side as though they'd rehearsed it, their presence filling the room with a gravity she couldn't quite brush off.
The girl, calm and collected, tilted her head toward Yuxin.
"…Your name?"
Yuxin hesitated, weighing whether to answer at all. But refusing seemed pointless. She exhaled and finally let the words fall.
"Zhen Yuxin."
The reaction was immediate—her eyes widened just a fraction, the kind of surprise that slipped past even the most carefully built mask. She leaned back slightly, almost murmuring it to herself.
"Yuxin… so that means you're with Blanche's team during the tournament."
Yuxin's head tilted faintly, suspicion flickering in her gaze.
"…You know Blanche?"
The girl didn't nod, didn't deny—her lips curved into something faintly amused, but her tone was guarded.
"Not directly. I've heard of her. From someone… who talks too much."
She let the words hang there, intentionally vague, withholding the names of Rea and Silas that spun behind her eyes.
Yuxin narrowed her gaze, not buying the casual dodge but choosing not to press. Instead, she leaned back into her chair, crossing her arms, her silence louder than words.
The girl finally straightened, her posture sharp and deliberate as if she were making an announcement, her voice calm but echoing faintly in the magically-warded room.
"Minase Fuuka. Second-year. Academy's official Custodian of the Forbidden Tome."
The title hung heavy, and Yuxin's eyes sharpened at once, recognition cutting through her usual dull expression. Know i Remember her.
Inside her mind, a thought whispered, bitter and cold, The Library Phantom. The elusive senior who haunted the restricted wings of Asterblume's library like a shadow, the one rumored to watch over volumes so dangerous no council dared to touch them.
Her fingers tapped lightly against her arm as she studied Fuuka, her expression unreadable but her thoughts racing. If the rumors are true, her Astraga can create clones of herself… infinite copies, working without rest. That's why she alone can guard the forbidden archives without ever faltering.
Yuxin let her gaze linger a beat longer, taking in every detail of the girl sitting calmly before her. Not a normal senior. Definitely not someone ordinary.
Her chest tightened with the realization, and though her expression remained impassive, her thoughts circled sharp and relentless. So why… why is someone like her pointing those eyes at me?