The academy courtyard hummed with the first rush of morning. Stone paths glistened with dew beneath the rising sun, and the low murmur of students rolled through the open space like a familiar tide.
Enark moved through it all with quiet focus.
He didn't need sight to navigate the crowd; sound was enough. Footsteps, shifting weight, the cadence of voices—it painted the space clearly in his mind. Still, beneath the normal rhythm of the academy, something felt off...
Tension lingered, faint but present; a pressure before a storm.
"Morning," Kirsty called, jogging up beside him. Her sneakers clicked sharply against the stone. She didn't slow down or wait for a response—there was still irritation in her posture from the night before. Archie trailed a step behind her, muttering something under his breath about drills. Suzune lingered nearby, already pulled into conversation with another group of students.
"Mornin', guys," Enark replied casually, the circular blue shades reflecting the morning light while hiding the strain behind them.
Then he heard it.
Footsteps—heavy, measured, deliberate—cutting through the courtyard from the front gate.
Not students. Not instructors.
Enforcers.
His jaw tightened, just barely.
Kirsty slowed, her gaze snapping toward the gate. Her expression shifted in an instant—from annoyance to alert disbelief.
"…Dad?"
The man at the center of the approaching group moved with an authority that demanded attention. A long coat marked with dark insignia hung from his shoulders, boots striking the stone with practiced precision.
Detective Landon.
Two Enforcers flanked him in pristine uniforms.
Kirsty's posture stiffened. The usual ease she carried sharpened into guarded readiness. Enark felt his pulse tick up—not from fear, but calculation. Detective Landon knew the stories whispered throughout the city. He didn't miss things.
"Morning, sunshine," Landon said, his voice calm and even. "Keeping up with your studies?"
"Yeah," Kirsty answered quickly, arms crossing. "I've been keeping up."
Enark shifted subtly, giving them space without stepping away. His instincts buzzed beneath his skin; one wrong move. One glance too long, and the figure in black--would be traced.
Landon's eyes scanned the courtyard, sweeping past students with professional precision before stopping.
They lingered on Enark.
Not recognition.
Assessment.
"And this is…?" Landon asked.
"Oh—he's my friend," Kirsty said smoothly. "Enark. I've mentioned him before."
"Mm," Landon replied, polite but sharp.
Enark inclined his head and extended a hand. "Good morning, sir."
Landon accepted the handshake, grip firm.
"Nice to meet you, Enark," he said. His brow lifted slightly. "Strong grip for a fifteen-year-old."
"I work out here and there," Enark replied evenly.
"Hm. Right," Landon said, releasing his hand.
A beat passed.
Then Landon turned back to his daughter. "Walk with me, Kirsty."
They moved a few steps away, voices lowered.
"Are you here for something important, Dad?" Kirsty asked.
"I just wanted to check on you," Landon said. "There's been a rise in incidents lately. Comes with the job—I worry."
"I'm fine," she replied quickly. "Really. Nothing's been happening around here."
Landon shook his head once. "That's where you're mistaken."
Kirsty frowned. "What do you mean?"
"We've been getting reports for months now," he said. "A blindfolded figure. Shows up across multiple districts—intervening in crimes."
Enark's head twitched almost imperceptibly at the description.
"A blindfolded figure?" Kirsty repeated.
"Yes," Landon continued. "Recently, we arrested a nobleman trafficking women and children at the docks. Survivors said someone appeared out of nowhere—cut their abductors down with a sword."
Kirsty's eyes widened. "So… is this person using Prime Energy?"
"Not that we can confirm," Landon said. "All reports say the same thing. A blade. Or bare hands."
"…Do you think they're from the academy?" she asked.
A subtle tension tightened in Enark's chest. His hands itched at his sides, but he remained still.
"I don't know," Landon said after a moment. "No evidence yet. But if they are… it'd have to be someone already trained. Upperclassmen dabbling in Kynjutsu or sword styles."
He paused, eyes flicking briefly back toward the students.
"And that's what concerns me."
While Landon and Kirsty exchanged words, Enark's attention drifted to the active radio clipped to the Enforcer's right hip; the faint crackle of static carried through the morning air.
Enark tilted his head a fraction, the blue lenses of his shades catching the light.
One thought surfaced—calm and deliberate.
I need that.
-----------------------------
"I know you're capable, Kirsty," Landon said. "But stay aware. Things are moving faster than they should. You and your friends—don't get caught in the middle. And if something seems off… tell me."
Kirsty's lips pressed into a thin line. "I know, Dad."
-----------------------------
Enark shifted his weight and took two slow steps forward, positioning himself closer to the gate—close enough to hear the soft crackle of the radio's static.
He passed behind the Enforcer as a group of students cut between them, momentarily narrowing the space.
The Enforcer adjusted instinctively, one step to the side.
That was enough.
Enark brushed past him—no force, no pause. Just a shoulder-grazing fabric. The faintest contact.
His fingers moved. Thumb and forefinger finding the clip, lifting just enough to release it.
*Click.*
Muted. Lost beneath the shuffle of feet and the murmur of voices.
The radio slid cleanly into Enark's palm.
He didn't stop walking.
He didn't look back.
The device vanished into the fold of his jacket as he stepped away, already blending back into the flow of students.
The enforcers started to step back, their presence retracting like shadows. Landon paused at the gate. He gave one last look over the courtyard.
Enark's body tensed, but outwardly he stayed calm, shades reflecting the sunlight. Landon's eyes scanned the crowd once more, but he didn't see the small movements Enark had made. The stolen radio rested hidden, a quiet advantage he hadn't had before.
As Landon walked away, Kirsty relaxed her shoulders, the tension leaving her body—but Enark didn't exhale fully. He stayed in place, shades lowering slightly as he considered the risk.
Too close.
He sensed toward the rooftops, toward the alleys that waited beyond the academy walls. His vigilante life and the academy life would never fully separate—not now, not while the city still screamed for him.
And even now, with the threat passed, he felt it: the weight of secrets. Among the sea of students, only he stood as a courtyard shadow.
A quiet, almost imperceptible smile tugged at his lips.
No one saw nor even suspected.
"Why are you smiling?" Kirsty asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
Enark tilted his head, the faint smile still there."Was just thinking… you looked kinda cute back there."
Her fist snapped into his arm instantly.
"Ow—hey!" Enark winced, rubbing the spot. "That was a compliment!"
Kirsty didn't slow down."Idiot," she muttered, marching ahead—ears unmistakably red.
Enark watched her go, the smile returning just a fraction.
As he turned to follow the others, the radio crackled.
"active assault—district seven. Witnesses report use of Kynjutsu. Identity unconfirmed—repeat, district—"
Enark stopped.
His grip tightened inside his jacket.
The academy noise faded into the background.
District seven.
That was too close.