A cat flicked its body from side to side, its pupils nothing more than thin slits. The motion intensified, culminating in a pounce onto the dangling piece of fabric before it. With claws extended, it ensnared its pretend prey, seizing it in its maw while batting it with its paws.
Luke let go of the piece of fabric and watched the animal surrender to its predatory instincts. He sat beneath a tree, a patch of green slightly removed from the bustle of the campus. His decision on how to conduct his investigation was yet to be made, so he remained, lost in thought.
Passivity was Luke's greatest enemy. He easily fell into idleness when he didn't have a concrete goal. His great creativity was limited by his tendency to doubt himself. Since he'd started investigating, he'd primarily relied on his ability to communicate with ghosts to find the killer, overlooking another skill that held greater potential in his situation: seeing auras.
With a surge of psychic energy focused on his eyes and visual cortex, he could perceive things unseen by the average individual. An aura, the energy field enveloping the physical body, appeared as a luminous veil a few inches thick. It was particularly useful for discerning a person's health condition, as imbalances leading to diseases first emerged in the aura.
Luke had warned Hannah numerous times about imbalances he spotted in her energy field, advising her on dietary adjustments to restore her aura. But in his investigation, he was more interested in detecting emotions. The aura's color changed based on the person's emotional state: green for anger, yellow for empathy, red for joy, and grey for sadness. Luke had patiently learned to recognize these colors, even their combinations. For instance, orange signified joy felt for another's success, a color he'd first seen on Hannah when he managed to use telekinesis after rigorous training.
This skill allowed him to see beyond appearances. Even a trained agent couldn't hide their aura's colors from him.
Before Luke could rise, he noticed someone approaching. A short young man walked up, head bowed, hands clinging to the beige leather strap of his satchel. He stopped before Luke and stammered, "Thank you."
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Luke, caught off guard, responded, "You're the kid who got beaten up yesterday... Feeling better?"
"I'm okay... And you?" The boy asked, his voice shaky.
Luke rose, absently rubbing his stomach, "Yeah, he didn't hit that hard. I was lucky."
The boy's eyes sparkled, "Wow... I've never seen anyone take hits like that. Are you some kind of superhero?" His voice was filled with admiration.
Luke stiffened, realizing his mistake. His resilience was betraying him. He should have kept a low profile after the beating, perhaps even skipped school. To deflect suspicion, he quickly replied, "Haha, trust me, it hurt. Just wrong place, wrong time..."
The boy dismissed his words, probably seeing it as false modesty. "Can you train me?" His voice trembled with excitement.
Luke felt a pang of panic. It felt like he had been exposed. "Train... you? I'm not good at fighting, you saw that!" He stammered.
But the boy shook his head, "I know what I saw. Those punches didn't seem to affect you. And the way you fell after that last hit... almost like you did it on purpose, just to end the fight. And now, no bruises? You're incredible!"
Luke was at a loss for words. "Listen, you're mistaken. I'm no fighter. You'd be better off joining a boxing club or something," Luke blurted out, as he pulled his cloak back over his shoulders, which he had shrugged off while seated.
The boy was silent, his face a picture of disappointment. "I have to get going now. Have a good day!" Luke said. He then started to walk away.
After a few steps, Luke turned back and saw the young man walking in the opposite direction. A wave of relief washed over him, mingled with a twinge of guilt.
That's when he remembered to activate his psychic sight, scanning the auras around him, especially the boy's aura before he got too far away. To an average person, nothing would seem different. However, anyone capable of sensing psychic energy would notice a blueish glow in Luke's eyes.
Luke focused and finally managed to detect the boy's aura. It was barely visible due to the distance, but he could still make out its color. It wasn't the expected grey or green but a very dark color, a color Luke had never seen before. Was it the distance distorting the color? Advanced depression? Or could this boy possibly be the killer?
Luke didn't know what to make of it, but he knew he needed to keep an eye on him. He had been warned: danger could come from anywhere, but especially from where least expected. He was both the hunter and the hunted. The enemy he was dealing with would stop at nothing to flush him out and eliminate him.