You must sleep through the morning and a good part of the afternoon, and you wake when your body makes its myriad of aches and pains known. While you had rested, the hours had ticked by. Before you know it, the sun will soon be setting over the sprawling grounds, if it weren't covered by the menacing storm clouds rolling in over the forest-covered hills. You take the tubes out from your body and slide out of bed the way you always do, in fits and starts, pausing to take deep breaths like an old woman.
You rest your forehead against the wall as you run a brush through your hair, eyes shut, yanking the strands into place until the tangles are smoothed out. Your knuckles and fingers feel stiff and swollen. You flex them, trying to work some feeling into your hands before you begin the next task of dressing. You wonder if you'll be able to get away with just throwing on your school jacket over your nightgown.
"How are we feeling today, [ NAME ]?" Ieiri walks into the room, looking immaculate in a pale blue sheath dress and black pumps.
You blink your eyes open and lick your lips. You don't want to worry her, but something's wrong with you. Something claws and drags at your chest, a grim foreboding you can't make sense of.
"The usual. How's Gojo-Sensei?"
"Satoru?" Surprise flits across her face for the briefest of seconds, right before she nods. "He's fine."
"Sure?"
"Sure. I saw him this morning."
You accept her reassurances with a non-committed hum, your gaze darting over to the window. Yuta's down in the courtyard with everyone else. As if he can sense you looking down, he meets your gaze, the sudden fear you feel bubbling in your chest reflected in his eyes as he turns away and looks past you. You follow his gaze.
No.
Why is he here?
"I have to go." You say, stumbling to your feet like a drunken line-backer. Your thigh slams against the metal frame of your bed, but you barely feel it – later, you'll see that the skin is mottled in shades of purple and blue.
Ieiri's face seems to have paled to the colour of chalk. She hasn't glanced out of the window once, but she seems to have grasped the situation instantly. "[ NAME ], wait –"
But it's too late, you're already gone.
You quickly find yourself regretting not wearing a coat, or even putting on a pair of shoes. Even sprinting flat out, you can feel the chill of the air battering your cheeks in waves. The icy stone floor feels like needles on the soles of your bare feet, which protest every step as you run.
You tumble into the courtyard in a breathless swirl, your breath coming out in little clouds. Everyone straightens at your approach, and their eyes turn to you. The air can be cut with a blunt knife, tenser than the unfamiliar faces who line the borders of the school or the fingers of your friends who clutch at their weapons.
Your head is pounding, and throbs of pain are shooting down your sides. You press your hands to your ribs and it eases a little, but not by much. Ow. You're overcome by the urge to drop to your knees and wheeze for air as your wilted lungs demand, but in the face of unfamiliar adversaries, all of whom are sizing you up, you stubbornly refuse let the fear and pressure show.
You slide into place with your friends, sandwiched in between Inumaki and Yuta, just in time to hear the man finish his speech. Close up, you can see how staggeringly handsome he is. His hair is dark, pulled away from his face into a tight knot, and his eyes are a vivid shade of emerald.
But his words are chillingly cold. "I wanna kill all the humans, and make a world with only Shamans, you see."
You can't breathe. What is he talking about? Your pulse becomes a steady drumbeat, low and hard, that echoes in your ears. You don't understand anything, but the sharp, knife-like twist in the pit of your stomach tells you that something is horribly wrong.
