The school day dragged on in a blur for Hiroki. Ever since the strange confrontation with the girl in the hallway, he couldn’t focus on anything else. The sensation of her touch still lingered, a cold knot in his chest that he didn’t want to unravel. Arkan had gone quiet again, letting Hiroki stew in his own stubbornness.
As he walked to his locker to grab his things at the end of the day, he noticed something strange—a folded piece of paper slipped into the slats. Frowning, he pulled it out and unfolded it. The note was hastily scribbled, almost as if the writer had been in a hurry:
“Rooftop. After school.”
Hiroki’s eyes narrowed. The handwriting was unfamiliar, but he had a pretty good guess who it was from. Takeshi, he thought with a mixture of suspicion and annoyance. But what did the guy want now?
As the final bell rang, Hiroki made his way to the rooftop. The stairs creaked under his weight, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the narrow windows. He reached the top and pushed the door open, squinting against the bright light.
The rooftop was quiet, save for the rustling of the wind against the metal fence that surrounded it. But he wasn’t alone. Standing near the edge, staring out over the city, was the girl from before. Her uniform fluttered slightly in the breeze, her expression a mix of confusion and frustration.
What’s she doing here? Hiroki wondered. But before he could turn back, she noticed him.
Her gaze sharpened, and her eyes narrowed. “You,” she spat, the hostility clear in her voice. “What the hell is going on? Why did I get a note telling me to come up here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Hiroki shot back, shoving his hands into his pockets. He wasn’t in the mood for another confrontation, especially not with her. But the tension between them was palpable, a heavy, awkward silence that hung in the air like a thick fog.
Before either of them could say anything else, the door to the rooftop creaked open once more. Takeshi Kurogane stepped through, his usual smug smile plastered across his face. He looked between the two of them, his eyes flicking back and forth as if he could sense the unspoken animosity.
“Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” Takeshi said, sounding far too amused. “I didn’t expect you both to get here so quickly.”
The girl rounded on him, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “What the hell is going on, Kurogane?” she demanded, her voice trembling with barely contained anger. “What did you drag us here for? And what’s this... thing that’s been following me?”
She gestured to her side, where Hiroki could just barely make out the faint outline of a Wraith—a small, wispy creature that seemed to flicker in and out of existence like a shadow caught in the breeze. Hiroki’s eyes widened slightly. So she really did bond with a Wraith during the attack.
But he could also tell something else. Unlike him, she couldn’t talk to her Wraith. The creature hovered near her, its faint energy tethered to her soul, but it was silent, its presence more like an echo than a voice.
Before he could voice his thoughts, Takeshi answered the question Hiroki hadn’t even asked. “You’re wondering why she can’t talk to her Wraith, right?” Takeshi said, turning to Hiroki with a knowing smirk. “That’s because, typically, most Soul Smiths can’t communicate with their Wraiths right away. It takes years of training and honing one’s spiritual energy to reach that level of connection.”
Hiroki scowled. “So, what? You’re saying I’m some kind of freak because I can do it already?”
“Not a freak,” Takeshi corrected, his tone annoyingly calm. “Just... unique. It’s incredibly rare for someone to bond with a Wraith and develop a fully conscious connection within days. It usually takes months, sometimes years, for others.”
The girl, who had been listening with increasing frustration, threw her hands up in exasperation. “Okay, enough with the vague crap,” she snapped. “You two are talking like I’m supposed to understand all of this. Wraiths? Soul Smiths? What the hell does any of this mean?”
Takeshi’s smirk faded, replaced by a look of genuine seriousness. He took a deep breath and turned to face both of them. “Alright,” he said, his tone softer now. “I suppose it’s time for a little explanation. I’ll keep it simple.”
He gestured for them to come closer, away from the door where they might be overheard. Reluctantly, Hiroki and the girl complied, the hostile tension between them momentarily forgotten in favor of trying to understand what was happening.
Takeshi leaned against the metal fence, crossing his arms as he spoke. “We live in a world where human emotions manifest as entities known as Wraiths. They’re born from strong feelings—anger, fear, sorrow, joy. These Wraiths exist in a realm parallel to ours, but sometimes, the barrier between our world and theirs weakens, allowing them to cross over.”
The girl’s brows furrowed in confusion. “So... what? That thing following me is some kind of... emotion ghost?”
“In a way, yes,” Takeshi nodded. “But it’s more than just a ghost. When a person’s emotional energy is strong enough, a Wraith can bond with them, becoming a part of their soul. This bond gives people like us—Soul Smiths—the ability to harness that energy and use it in various ways.”
He turned to Hiroki. “That’s what happened to you. You bonded with a Wraith, and somehow, you did it in record time. And yesterday...” he glanced at the girl, “one of those rogue Wraiths must have latched onto you during the attack.”
The girl looked at Takeshi, then at Hiroki, her confusion turning to something like fear. “So that thing... it’s stuck with me now?” she asked, her voice quieter, almost pleading.
“For now, yes,” Takeshi confirmed. “But it’s not necessarily a bad thing. If you learn to control it, to bond with it, you can use its power. But if you let it fester... it could turn into something much worse.”
Hiroki watched her carefully. She was trying to put on a brave face, but he could see the cracks forming beneath her determined expression. This was all new to her—terrifying, even. And as much as he hated to admit it, he could relate.
“So, what’s your name?” Hiroki finally asked, his voice softer than before.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
She hesitated for a moment, as if debating whether or not to answer. “Abeni,” she said quietly, her eyes not meeting his. “Abeni Olawale.”
Hiroki nodded, filing away that bit of information. Another person he believed he might have to watch out for. This wasn’t just some random girl getting caught up in his mess—someone may have been pulling something in this school, either that or her arcane connection was just that strong, whatever it was, he needed her in his orbit.
Arkan’s voice echoed in Hiroki’s mind, a note of amusement in his tone. “Making friends, are we? Well, isn’t this just adorable?”
Hiroki ignored the comment, turning back to Takeshi. “So, what’s next? What do we do now that she’s... involved?”
Takeshi’s gaze grew serious again. “What’s next is that you both need to learn control—fast. Because if you don’t, the Crimson Hand won’t be the only ones coming after you. And trust me,” he added, his eyes narrowing, “there are far worse things out there than them.”
Abeni looked between the two boys, her expression torn between fear and determination. “So, what? You expect me to just... learn to control this thing following me around?” she asked, gesturing to the faint shadow of her Wraith.
“It’s either that or let it consume you,” Takeshi said bluntly. “The choice is yours. But if you’re serious about this, then stick close. Because things are about to get a lot more dangerous.”
The weight of his words hung in the air, the sun casting long shadows over the rooftop as the three of them stood there, bound together by forces they barely understood.
As Takeshi finished explaining the world of Wraiths and Soul Smiths, Hiroki watched Abeni closely from the corner of his eye. She seemed calm—too calm, considering everything that had just been revealed. He was hoping—praying, really—that she would just laugh it off, dismiss it as some elaborate joke, and walk away. After all, wasn’t that what she had always done? Label anything different, anything strange, as pathetic or unworthy and move on with her perfect life?
But instead, she did something that completely caught him off guard.
Abeni took a deep breath, then glanced briefly at Hiroki. There was a flicker of something in her eyes—recognition, maybe, or something else he couldn’t quite place. She turned back to Takeshi and nodded, her expression resolute. “Alright,” she said. “I’ll do it. I want to know more about these... Wraiths or whatever you call them. If they’re going to be following me around, I might as well understand them.”
Hiroki’s jaw tightened, his hands balling into fists at his sides. What the hell is she doing? He could feel a wave of frustration bubbling up inside him, his emotions threatening to spill over. Before he could stop himself, he stepped forward, his voice rising.
“Why would you even want to get involved in this mess?” he snapped, glaring at her. “Your life is perfect, isn’t it? You’ve got everything you could ever want. This—this kind of shit—it’s for freaks and loners like me. People like you don’t belong in it. You’ll just end up getting yourself labeled as a freak too.”
Abeni turned to him, her expression shifting from confusion to something more amused. A sly smile curled at the corner of her lips. “Oh, Hiroki,” she said, her voice laced with a quiet confidence that sent a chill down his spine. “I’m the one who does the labeling around here. So no, I’m not particularly scared.”
Her words hit him like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, Hiroki’s vision blurred. Flashes of old memories flooded his mind—childhood afternoons filled with laughter that turned into something darker, moments of hurt that he’d tried so hard to bury. The sound of her voice, the way she’d once treated him... it all came rushing back, each memory like a knife twisting deeper into old wounds.
He shook his head, trying to clear the fog of emotions that threatened to choke him. “You...” he started, but the words caught in his throat. He went mute, his anger and frustration now tangled with something he couldn’t quite name. Without another word, Abeni turned and walked away, her footsteps light and unhurried, as if nothing had just happened.
As soon as she was gone, the air between Hiroki and Takeshi grew tense, the silence stretching like a taut wire ready to snap. Takeshi’s gaze was fixed on Hiroki, a look of curiosity and amusement dancing in his eyes.
“You know her, don’t you?” Takeshi asked, his voice deceptively casual. “You two have some history.”
Hiroki shot him a glare, his jaw clenched tight. “It doesn’t matter.”
Takeshi shrugged, pushing off the railing he’d been leaning on. “Maybe not to you. But it matters to me,” he said, his tone shifting into something more serious. “If she’s going to be around I’d like for things to fun smoothly, she could interfere with what I’m trying to achieve here if both of you can not work together. And I’d hate for that to ruin what I’ve been planning.”
Hiroki frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I’m saying,” Takeshi continued, stepping closer, “that It is really you that I want you to align with me, Hiroki. Out of everyone I’ve seen, you’re the one with the most potential. I’m not here to recruit just anyone. I want you. But if her presence is going to be a distraction for you, then that’s going to be a problem.”
Hiroki’s eyes narrowed. “Why me? What’s so special about me?”
Takeshi smiled, a slow, almost predatory grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Because you’re unique, Hiroki. You bonded with a Wraith almost instantly, and you can talk to it like it’s your best friend. That kind of power, that kind of connection... it’s rare. And I need people like you.”
Hiroki’s mind raced. He knew better than to trust Takeshi, but the idea of being wanted, of being seen as more than just a loner or a freak, was tempting. He was tired of being alone, tired of feeling like an outcast with no place to belong.
“Fine,” he said finally, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t care about her. If she wants to get herself killed messing around with Wraiths, that’s her problem. I’ll join you.”
Takeshi’s grin widened, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. “Perfect,” he said, clapping Hiroki on the shoulder. “I knew you’d make the right choice.”
Without another word, Hiroki turned and walked away, leaving Takeshi alone on the rooftop. But even as he descended the stairs, a part of him couldn’t shake the feeling that he was making a mistake. That aligning himself with Takeshi was only going to drag him deeper into the darkness that had already begun to consume his life.
As Hiroki’s footsteps faded, Takeshi’s smile slowly vanished. The rooftop was silent, save for the faint rustling of leaves in the wind. A shadowy figure seemed to materialize behind him, the faint outline of a Wraith coalescing into view. The Wraith, a tall and slender entity with elongated limbs, leaned close to Takeshi’s ear.
“You played that one well,” the Wraith purred, its voice a low, rasping whisper. “You pushed all the right buttons. He’s practically eating out of your hand.”
Takeshi smirked, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “People like him are utterly predictable,” he said, his voice dripping with confidence. “They’re driven by loneliness and desperation, always looking for someone to validate them. It’s easy to manipulate once you know where to press.”
The Wraith, which Takeshi called Umbrel, tilted its head, observing its master with a curious glint in its eyes. “And yet, you seem concerned,” it noted. “You’re worried about something.”
Takeshi’s smile faded, replaced by a shadow of doubt. “It’s his abilities,” he admitted. “The speed with which he bonded with that Wraith, the raw power he has... it’s unnerving. If he ever realizes what he’s truly capable of, he could become a problem.”
Umbrel chuckled softly, its laughter a low, echoing sound that seemed to dance on the wind. “Then it’s a good thing you’re keeping him close, isn’t it?” it said. “Keep your enemies closer, after all.”
“Yes,” Takeshi agreed, his expression hardening. “For now, he’s useful. But if he becomes too powerful, we’ll have to take measures to... control him.”
The two stood in silence, watching the door where Hiroki had disappeared, both of them already thinking several steps ahead in the game they were playing. For now, Hiroki was just a pawn. But Takeshi knew better than anyone that pawns had a way of turning into queens when you least expected it.