After class let out, Azuki and I stayed behind. Most of the students cleared out quickly—some trying to avoid eye contact with Kurogane-sensei, others just eager to escape her lectures before she could hit them with another metaphysical backhand. The classroom emptied like someone had pulled the drain plug on reality.
Except us.
I stood a few feet from her desk while Azuki fidgeted beside me, her glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose every few seconds like they were allergic to staying in place. I saw her reach up to fix them. Her hand flickered into mismatched hues—fur, bark, static—before settling back to skin.
Kurogane-sensei didn't even look up from whatever she was scribbling in a black leather-bound journal of hers. Her cane rested against her desk like it had always been there, as much a part of the room as the walls themselves.
I cleared my throat. "Um, mam?"
She looked up instantly, eyes sharp enough to shave bark off a tree.
"Kazeyama-san?" she asked, already knowing I wasn't here to flirt or flounder. "Is something wrong?"
"Yeah," I said. "Azuki needs help."
Her face didn't change, but I saw the shift behind her eyes.
Focused now. Watching. Listening.
Not the terrifying monolith of authority she played for the classroom—but something older, more dangerous, more useful.
Azuki peeked from behind me like a kid caught sneaking into the adult section of a library.
"She's a tanuki," I said. "And she told me her sacred tree is in danger."
Azuki puffed her cheeks. "Ryu-sama said he'd help save my tree… and me!"
"Her sacred tree is on land cleared for development," I continued, cutting through her usual dramatics. "It's on some kind of commercial site. She told me she's afraid there are chainsaws and bulldozers getting closer every day."
Kurogane-sensei straightened, and something in the air changed. Less tension. More gravity.
"Where is the tree located?" she asked. Her tone was neutral, but I could already tell she'd decided this was important.
Azuki blinked, surprised she was being taken seriously. "W-well, it's in Aomori Prefecture. Near Lake Towada. My family's been bound to that forest for generations."
Kurogane-sensei nodded slowly. "Kazeyama-san, you were right to bring this to me." Her voice dropped into a calm and terrifyingly efficient tone. "I'll start by contacting every relevant ecological and preservation society with jurisdiction over that area. If I can get it registered as a heritage site, that will slow any developers down immediately."
Azuki's mouth opened into a perfect little "O."
I nodded. That made so much more sense than anything else.
Kurogane-sensei continued, already pulling a notebook out and writing notes. "Do you know the specific shrine that once protected your tree?"
Azuki nodded quickly. "It's been dormant for years, but the Taki-no-Inari-jinja shrine used to be associated with the grove."
Kurogane-sensei's pen moved with bold, purposeful strokes. "Then I'll reach out to the Inari Shinto temples in that region. If they agree to re-sanctify the site as part of their domain, we might be able to designate the tree itself as a sacred object of worship."
Azuki's whole face lit up like a paper lantern.
Kurogane-sensei snapped her notebook shut and looked at me again. "Do you have a cellphone? I'll need a way to contact you if the temples respond."
I scratched the back of my neck, remembering how my phone melted yesterday on the trip through the tunnel. "Not yet. I'm on my way to pick one up tonight."
She stared at me like I'd just admitted to not owning shoes. "Fine. As soon as you have a number, report to me directly. Understood?"
"Understood, Sensei. And thank you."
"Good." She tapped the edge of her desk with one thick finger. "This school may be filled with monsters, Kazeyama-san—but that doesn't mean we act like them."
As soon as we stepped into the Withers Hall, Azuki's squeal almost broke the atmosphere in half.
She jumped into my arms with zero warning. I barely had time to brace myself before she tackled me in a hug that nearly knocked the wind out of me.
"Thank you! Thank you, Ryu-sama! I knew everything was going to be okay!"
I stumbled but managed to stay upright, awkwardly patting her on the back. "You're welcome, Azuki. Seriously, it's no—"
She didn't wait for the full sentence. She skipped down the hallway, her geta clacking on the tile floor like a little girl on her way to get candy. Her pixelated form glitched for half a second mid-skip, like the universe couldn't keep up with her excitement.
I turned back toward Kurogane-sensei.
"Thank you for helping her," I said.
She didn't smile. But something softened behind her eyes. "Good intentions don't mean much without action, Kazeyama-san. You did the right thing by bringing her to me. I'm probably the one teacher here who could have helped. Azuki the tanuki, huh?"
She chuckled to herself. "She's lucky she has you for a friend."
And then she began to write in her journal.
"That's funny," I said. "I feel lucky to have her. She helps me see things from a different perspective."
"Remember my lesson, Kazeyama-san," she said without looking up from her journal.
And just like that, I was dismissed.
I had just left Kurogane-sensei 's room and had turned the corner when I saw Azuki. She was halfway down the hallway when she stopped dead in her tracks, one sandal squeaking against the floor.
She spun around like she'd just remembered her own name mid-dream.
"Oh! Wow… thank you, Ryu-sama!"
I blinked. "You already thanked me a few minutes ago."
"No, no, I mean—thank you thank you! You know… for the dance." Her cheeks turned pink. "Of course I will… I'll need a dress, but yes!"
"…A dress? What dance—"
"Yes!" she said, bright-eyed like I'd just proposed marriage or free bento for life. "Oh, you're the best! Of course I will for the dance."
And then, like a wind-up raccoon toy, she came skipping back to me, flung her arms around my waist, and hugged me again.
Tightly.
Before I could react, she stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on my cheek. A quick, soft mwah—warm enough to leave static in my brain.
My face went hot.
Hers went hotter. Full-on cherry blossom red.
Then, just as fast, she let go and skipped away, her energy back in full force. I watched her go—raccoon tail swaying back and forth behind her, glitching slightly with every bounce like she was skipping across bad animation frames.
And I realized, that was a good sign.
She was back to her old self.
Pixilated and impossible.
But cheerful again.
And alive.
I turned to say something to Yuki—some dry, ironic comment to ground myself again, but the hallway was empty.
I was used to feeling her chilling comfort by my side. Her absence made me feel cold in a different way. A sadder, more longing way. Cold in a way that only hit me when she wasn't around.
She was still with Shion.
And just like that, I felt it.
Loneliness.
And the last time I'd felt that was before I'd met her and Shion.
Before I'd even come here at all.
I was lonely all the way back in West Virginia. And being without Yuki suddenly made me realize how lonely I had been for awhile.
What else was happening to me?
I checked my watch.
It was time.
I pushed the door open and started walking towards the tunnel.
I rolled up my sleeves as I walked, feeling the chill air of Crescent Moon Academy shift slightly with every footstep. The students gave me space, like they could feel something building under my skin, like the air pressure around me had dropped a few degrees.
I walked past the twisting iron gate and down the forest path.
By the time I reached the tunnel entrance, I had my breathing under control.
Just like Yuki taught me. Slowly in. Slowly out.
I knelt down, feeling the cold earth with my bare palms. I really stretched out this time, feeling with my senses.
The stone.
The dirt.
All of them became my spies.
I stopped moving and listened—not with my ears. With my bones.
Three sets of footsteps.
Ken. Heavy. Plodding.
Namazu. Hesitant.
That tall, creepy bastard who never spoke.
They were behind me, about fifty feet away.
I could feel them.
There was personality in their footsteps. I knew where they were before they came into view.
But then I felt something creepy.
Something else.
Thousands of footsteps.
No—not footsteps.
Legs. Tiny. Chittering. Unnatural. Uncountable.
Skittering across the edge of perception, down in the marrow of the earth.
I felt them swarming.
Hina's spiders.
Moving everywhere. All over the island.
And they hurt.
Pain lanced across my skull.
I staggered, clutching a nearby tree.
Whatever I those damn spider-things were made my skin want to crawl off my bones and caused the back of my eyes to itch.
It felt like I was trying to taste a color.
I pulled myself out of the trance, jerking my mind back into my body and felt something wet running down my nose and over my lips.
Blood.
Of course.