"Across the country, protests have erupted in nearly every major city as non-ability citizens take to the streets demanding reform and recognition. Demonstrators have been seen holding up signs bearing a new symbol. The mark of a group calling itself NOROI. While little is known about the organization at this time, their message appears to resonate with growing frustration among those born without abilities, who claim they are being treated as second-class citizens in a society built around power. The Eminent Order has yet to comment on the group, but officials assure the public that the situation is being monitored closely."
"Would you switch that off?" I pushed up my glasses, sighing in frustration.
Naomi grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. "Sorry, but we can't keep ignoring this. More and more people are talking about this NOROI group."
"She's right," Chris added as he stood from the couch. "We still don't know what this group wants. Or who their leader is."
I tapped my pen against the table, each click sharp, deliberate. The sound was starting to match the pressure building in my head.
"Should we consult the higher-ups?" Naomi asked, watching me closely.
"No." I stood from my chair. "We don't have enough to bring them. They'll write this off as just another protest by non-ability users. They'll see it as a waste of time."
I reached for the black envelope on my desk, the same symbol as the protesters' signs stamped boldly across the seal. The letter had arrived two days ago, unsigned, except for a name.
I opened it again, though I knew every word by now.
"The truth shall be revealed. The Order will fall.
—Yoru."
It gave me nothing but headaches. I'd already tried tracing its origin. Nothing. Whoever sent this knew how to cover up their tracks.
Whoever they were, they were clearly making their presence known. The protests might not be violent yet, but the message was spreading, and fast.
I could report it. But without evidence this is more than just noise, the higher-ups won't listen. Not until it's too late.
"All we can do is keep watching. The protests are peaceful, and for now, it just seems like they're trying to raise awareness." I folded the letter and placed it back in the drawer. "But stay alert."
"Right! I need to head out, duty calls. Spark Girl, out!" Naomi flipped her blonde hair and strutted toward the door with her usual flare, leaving just me and Chris behind.
I sat back in my chair, rubbing the dark circles beneath my eyes.
"How are you holding up?" Chris asked gently.
"Not well."
There was a pause before he spoke again.
"...I know this is late, but, I'm sorry for what happened to your daughter."
Ami.
My youngest.
Gone, like a shadow swallowed by the night.
I hadn't slept properly since that day. No matter what I tried to focus on, my mind always came back to her. The silence in the house. The way her room still looked exactly the same. The ache that wouldn't go away. The guilt eating me from the inside out.
"I remember you saying your eldest would be returning to E.O.S."
"Yes. Aria's trained hard for it," I replied, trying to shift my thoughts away from the pain.
"Does that mean I should expect her to be the next number one hero, just like her father?" Chris grinned as he moved to sit across from my desk.
"Perhaps." I gave a small nod. "I have faith in her. I heard you'll be one of the new instructors at E.O.S. Treat her well, Chris. None of your weird and dangerous tests."
He laughed. "Can't promise that. She'll be facing real threats soon. Best she learns how to survive the stress while she still has support."
I sighed. "Of course."
I checked my watch.
"She should be settling into her dorm by now."
Chris stood, the metal rings on his belt clinking softly as he adjusted his coat. "Then it's almost time for teacher introductions. I'll be off."
His heavy footsteps echoed through the room until the door shut behind him.
Silence.
Only the low hum of the fan above filled the space.
I opened the drawer again and pulled out the letter.
The mark. The words. The name.
Yoru.
I traced the name with my eyes, searching it for meaning; for something I might've missed.
"Yoru... who are you?"