The sound hadn't come from inside the room. It was faint, but distinctly metallic, coming from just outside the window.
Tsume's raised fist faltered. The murderous intent in his eyes was instantly replaced by sharp, hyper-focused confusion. He slowly lowered his arm as he turned his head toward the heavy curtains.
Thud.
It sounded like boots lightly touching down on the slate tiles of the roof ledge right beneath our sill. Someone had to be out there.
Without saying a word, our bitter rivalry was instantly pushed aside. Tsume stepped up to the glass, gripping the fabric of the curtains. With a sudden, forceful yank, he threw the drapes wide open.
The bright sun flooded the room, temporarily blinding us. As our eyes quickly adjusted to the glare, we peered down through the glass, scanning the shadows of the Eastern Wing courtyard below.
Standing perfectly still in the narrow, shaded alleyway between our dorm building and the massive stone perimeter wall were two figures. They were entirely cloaked in heavy, dark fabric, their hoods pulled up to obscure their faces. They were looking around the courtyard with calculated, predatory movements, clearly unaware that we were watching them from above.
Tsume and I exchanged a single, wordless look. There wasn't any time to discuss, we just had to react.
So we bolted.
I ripped the dorm room door open, and we sprinted down the hallway side-by-side, our boots pounding heavily against the wooden floorboards. We practically flew down the spiraling stone staircase of the Eastern Wing, skipping multiple steps at a time. The adrenaline that had faded after my spar with Tsume came rushing back with a vengeance.
We hit the ground floor and burst through the heavy iron-wrought side doors, stepping out into the blinding sunlight of the campus grounds. We quickly rounded the corner of the building, sliding to a halt on the cobblestone path that led into the shaded alleyway.
The two figures were still there. They had stopped moving, their backs turned to us as they inspected a heavy iron grate set into the foundation of the Academy wall.
"Hey boys!" Tsume barked, his voice echoing loudly off the stone walls. It was aggressive and loud—he was absolutely desperate for a physical outlet to unleash all the pent-up rage and humiliation swirling inside him. "This sector is restricted to Academy students only! Get the fuck out!"
The two figures froze. Slowly, in perfect unison, they turned to face us.
As they moved, the heavy, nondescript cloaks they were wearing shifted, falling open to reveal their true attire underneath.
Tsume and I both tensed up.
They were wearing identical, highly stylized uniforms. The base of the outfit was a stark, pitch-black fabric that seemed to actively absorb the light around it. Standing out in sharp, jarring contrast was a stiff, high-collared white neckline, detailed with aggressive black-and-white stripes running down the lapels and the trim of their sleeves.
We didn't have time to be thinking or wondering about what the uniform meant, but the dark, organized nature of it screamed that they belonged to a unified group. A group that had managed to bypass the Academy's security easily.
The figure on the left reached up, pushing his heavy dark hood back to rest on his shoulders. He was lean and unnervingly pale, with a mop of messy, jet-black hair. Even from where I stood, I could spot the faint, uneven color near his roots; it had to be a harsh dye job.
But the most unsettling thing about him wasn't even that. It was his eyes—or rather, the lack of them. A thick, solid black blindfold was tightly wrapped around the upper half of his face, completely obscuring his vision.
The blindfolded man looked directly at us for a split second. He didn't speak. He didn't summon a weapon. He simply pivoted on his heel and launched himself backward. With a terrifying, supernatural burst of speed, he scaled the sheer stone wall of the Academy perimeter like an insect, vaulting over the iron spikes at the top and vanishing from sight in the blink of an eye.
"Hey! Get back here!" Tsume yelled, stepping forward to chase him.
But the other guy didn't run.
He stayed exactly where he was, standing casually in the center of the alleyway. He reached up with his hand and slowly pushed his heavy hood back, letting it fall onto his shoulders.
A shock of untamed, spiky, long blonde hair spilled out.
My blood ran ice cold. My bruised ribs gave a sudden, phantom throb of pain as the memories of last night violently slammed into the forefront of my mind. The oppressive heat. The suffocating vacuum of air.
It was him. That fire maniac from the Yamata Clan. The guy who had nearly incinerated our entire squad in Nihon Village.
The blonde man slowly raised his head. When his crazed, unhinged eyes locked onto me and Tsume, a wide, utterly psychopathic grin stretched across his face, revealing a row of sharp teeth. The air around him immediately began to warp and shimmer with a dry, suffocating heat.
He threw his head back and let out a loud, maniacal laugh that echoed terrifyingly through the quiet Academy courtyard.
"Well, well, well," he chuckled, his voice dripping with sadistic glee as he pulled out his sword from his holster, small embers began to spark and crackle around it.
"I told you guys I'd see you again."