Fushineko-sensei looked like she wanted to strangle someone. Her tail flicked once, like a whip, and her ears flattened in that lazy, homicidal way of hers.

"I'm not going to be late to the vape shop," she said, like it was the only sacred thing left in her crumbling life.

I blinked. "What about Shion?" I demanded.

"Isn't she your friend?" she asked without even looking at me.

She walked towards the door like this whole moment was beneath her nine lives. "You deal with it."

I could've killed her. Not metaphorically. Not emotionally. I mean I genuinely could've thrown a desk across the room and clocked her square between the smug little ears.

Instead, I turned.

Kanae was still sitting there. Still smug. Still chewing invisible gum made of spite and superiority. Her two friends flanked her, arms crossed; one of them tapped her heel against the floor like she was bored.

"What'd you do to her?" I asked. My voice was low, sharp.

Kanae rolled her eyes so hard I swear I heard cartilage snap.

"Chill out," she said, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "It's not like I killed her."

Then, she smiled like she was about to say the worst possible thing and couldn't wait to hear how it landed.

"She was already dead."

I felt my jaw tighten.

"You wanna know?" she asked. "It's simple. I wrote her name in kanji."

Like that explained everything.

"Big deal. I can do that," I said.

She smirked.

"Yeah, but when I do it, things happen. Like your bitchy little friend, Shion. She read her name and remembered what she really was."

Kanae raised an eyebrow.

"Dead."

I took a step forward. I didn't even think about it. My body just moved.

And that's when Kanae's fingers twitched.

She lifted the brush from her notepad and the tip hovered over the paper like a guillotine.

Her friends—her coven, cult, backup dancers, whatever they were—stiffened. Their eyes narrowed. One of them, the tall one with the star tattoo on her cheekbone, cracked her knuckles like punctuation.

"Careful," she said. "I know your name. Wasn't it Ryu?"

Then she smiled wider. Sharp. Giddy.

"I know that kanji well. It's an easy one. I can write it before you can blink."

I froze.

"You wanna find out what kind of dragon you really are?"

Her eyes sparkled with perverse delight.

"I bet you're an inchworm," she said.

And she wasn't bluffing.

I could feel it—under my skin, in my spine, in whatever cursed thing was pretending to be my soul these days. The way she said it made me think she'd written it before.

"You wanna bet?" I asked, calling her bluff.

I heard her take a breath, her fingers on her calligraphy brush tightened.

The tension in the hallway was thick enough to chew through. Thick enough to drown in.

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"Let's end this now. Fix her," I said.

For the first time, I saw genuine concern in her eye. "I can't. I really don't have any ink. I can't get any, either. Not until tomorrow."

One of her friends behind her shrugged, like it was a joke.

My hand curled into a fist.

I wasn't going to hit her.

But I was angry enough to imagine it. Angry enough to feel the shape of the idea in my palm.

"So now what?" I asked.

She put her hand up to her head and clicked her tongue, like she was thinking.

"It's a shame the Torquemada's Tomes bookstore is closed," she said. "I could've gone to get some right now."

Then she leaned in.

Her smile was playful, cruel, and effortless.

"Looks like she'll just have to wait," she said flatly. "On the bright side, she's dead, so she won't wet herself. Probably. Ta-ta."

Kanae flipped her ponytail over her shoulder and turned away like I was already forgotten. Her heels tapped against the old tiles like a typewriter.

I looked at Shion.

She was still standing exactly as she had been when she read Kanae's spell: pale, stiff as dead wood. Beautiful and broken.

I sighed, knowing what I had to do. "It's just you and me. Care to dance?"

I reached over and picked her up. She weighed less than I expected—like a dried flower. She reminded me of someone who didn't belong in this world anymore but refused to leave.

I looked around the empty hallway before I hoisted her up carefully. My right arm was hooked under her knees. The other across her shoulders. Her hair brushed my cheek, light as breath.

"I hope you're unconscious and never remember this," I said.

And I carried her.

Bridal-style.

Down the hallway, past the empty classroom doors, and through the silence that Fushineko-sensei left behind.

"Shion," I muttered under my breath, shifting her weight slightly. "I should've expected you to literally be my cross to carry."

I wasn't sure if I imagined it, but she seemed to cuddle into me after I spoke. But her face looked like she was smirking.

I dragged her outside.

Shion, her weight, felt wrong. Not because she was heavy, but because she wasn't. Like I might blink, and she'd disappear entirely.

I sat her down gently by the wall near the back stairwell. Her head was frozen to one side, bent from where I'd carried her. Her hair looked uncharacteristically messy, so I brushed it out of her face.

I shook my head, seeing her frozen there.

Like she was dead.

No. I couldn't deal with this.

I pulled out my phone and called Inego.

He picked up immediately. "Oi, you sound like hell."

I nodded, then remembered he couldn't see me. "I'm with Shion. Right after Literature Club she got into an argument with Kanae."

Inego snorted. "Yeah, that's surprisingly easy to do. She works in the library with that old pervert, Rōsh-sensei. She's an Onmyōji. Once upon a time they were government-sanctioned you know. Pretty neat, eh, old chap?"

My grip on the phone tightened. "No, it's not neat! Kanae did something to Shion. She wrote… something on paper, and Shion read it. Now she's frozen stiff. She's not waking up," I said. "I don't know how to reverse it."

There was a pause.

Inego exhaled, long and low. "I can try to help… but I don't really know how. Her Onmyōji magic is different. Same principles, but her performance is the calligraphy."

I exhaled hard. "Can you please try to make sense?"

"Fine. My particular brand of magic isn't going to be very helpful. I can't sing and dance Shion back the way she was."

I rolled my eyes. "Great, Presto," I sighed, realizing what an amateur I was.

"Presto?" Inego asked.

"Yeah, look, sorry about that. I'm worried about Shion, and I'm out of my league."

Inego was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, he sounded like he was trying to be reassuring.

"Okay, it's not like a role-playing game. Let's start there. In the real world, there are so many contradictions… but whatever. I'll simplify," he said.

I exhaled. "I'd greatly appreciate it."

Inego continued. "Okay, basics: I'm a magician. Hibana's an exorcist, and Kanae's an Onmyōji. All three of us can perform spells, but for different reasons, and in different ways."

I thought I understood. "Like how a carpenter, electrician, and plumber are all needed to build a house, right?"

Inego was quiet for a moment. Then I heard him sigh, loud.

"Oi, it's nothing like that, mate. It's your metaphor, so you're owning that one."

I scoffed. "Whatever, just… how do I help Shion?"

I hated seeing her just lying there, like a corpse when she should be up, quipping, snarking, busting balls.

It stung worse than if Kanae stabbed me with a fountain pen.

"I'll do whatever, Inego, okay? She—she means more than I could ever admit to her."

I heard Inego chuckle. "You know she can hear you, right?"

Goddamn it.

I froze.

The phone slipped a little in my hand.

Shion, still frozen stiff by the stairwell, didn't move.

But now, I couldn't look at her without wondering if she'd heard every clumsy word.

Inego was still talking, but his voice sounded a thousand miles away.

"Talk to her," he said. "Remind her she's not gone. Remind her she's still tied here. And listen, I think I have a solution, but you're not going to like it."

Par for the course. "Hit me with it."

He took a breath. "Magic isn't going to help you right now. You're thinking in the wrong direction, but for the right reason."

I tried to be calm. "I'm really listening, Inego. What do I have to do?"

"Mate, I don't know the solution, exactly, because you have to figure this out, but I can tell you it's got to be personal. If you really feel that way about Shion, then don't rely on magic."

I tried to swallow, but my throat was dry. "Then what should I rely on?"

He snorted. "Well, yourself, I suppose. Good as anyone, right? Don't sell yourself short, Ryu. I'm here, but Shion needs you right now. She'll never say that, and please, for my sake, don't tell her I told you."

I thanked him and hung up, feeling the entire weight of Crescent Moon Academy's shadow on my back.

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