Chapter 24 — Lesson, Laughter, and Green Ghost
The Blessed Bioenergy class continued in a strange atmosphere, strained by the silence naturally imposed by Himari Harihiho. No one dared to cough. No one dared to whisper. Even the most arrogant students suddenly seemed to remember they were made of fragile bones and very breakable flesh. The Seraphim wrote on the chalkboard with almost mechanical precision, tracing complex diagrams, energy circles, internal flows, and lines of compression, while the chalk creaked as if complaining about having to transmit truths too heavy for it.
— Fumetsu, Himari said without turning around, is not a simple force. Those who reduce it to raw power often die before they are twenty-five.
A frozen silence followed.
— Fumetsu is a resonance between the soul, the body, and the will. When these three elements enter into harmony, blessed energy flows naturally. When they contradict each other… it devours itself.
She drew three connected circles.
— Soul. Body. Intention.
Kai raised his hand.
— And if someone has a lot of will but little intelligence?
— Then they probably become you, Himari replied.
The class stifled a laugh.
Kai placed his hand over his heart.
— I accept this violence.
Himari continued:
— There are several expressions of Fumetsu: reinforcement, emission, alteration, materialization, specialization. Some of you will only use one branch your entire life. Others… will become anomalies.
Her covered face turned slightly toward Zayn.
Then toward Yojuro.
Then elsewhere.
Zayn blinked.
— Why did I feel like she was looking at me without eyes?
Yojuro had already been writing for ten minutes with the concentration of a warrior monk.
His notebook was filled with neat notes, symbols, hypotheses, diagrams, compatibility percentages, internal circulation patterns, and energy angles.
Zayn leaned over.
— Do you actually understand all this?
— Yes.
— I checked out at "resonance."
— That's normal.
— Thanks.
— It wasn't a compliment.
Zayn straightened up, offended.
Himari tapped the chalkboard once with the tip of the chalk.
— Now… the true purpose of Paladins.
Even the distracted students froze.
— You will often be lied to, she said calmly. You will be told that you are heroes. That you will save the world. That you will be admired.
She let a few seconds fall like stones.
— The truth is less beautiful.
Her voice grew lower.
— The role of a Paladin is to maintain balance through force when morality fails. We are sent where peace is already dead.
She walked between the rows.
— We prevent wars… sometimes by triggering smaller ones. We protect innocents… sometimes by sacrificing other innocents. We destroy monsters… then become what the survivors call monsters in their turn.
No one moved.
Even Zayn was listening seriously.
— If you want applause, leave now. If you want to be loved, change your path. If you want to carry choices that will haunt you… stay.
The silence became sacred.
Then Himari returned to the desk.
— End of class.
The class took several seconds to understand.
Then the explosion of chairs, held breaths, and nervous conversations resumed all at once, as if a dam had just burst.
Zayn stepped out first.
— That woman is terrifying.
— She is honest, Yojuro said.
— That's worse.
In the hallway, Murata moved slowly, guided by the sound of footsteps, his katana strapped to his back.
Zayn raised his hand.
— Hey Murata! Wow… are your eyes better now?
Murata sketched a slight smile.
His closed eyelids seemed less tense than before.
— Yes. Temporarily.
— Temporarily?
— I received a special treatment this morning. It soothes the pain… not the cause.
Zayn scratched the back of his neck.
— Oh… sorry.
— No need.
Murata bowed his head slightly.
— But I must leave. I have… something to do.
— Mysterious.
— Necessary.
Then he walked away down the corridor with that strange calm of people who carry invisible battles.
Zayn watched him go.
— Everyone here seems to have a dramatic past.
— Some have a worse future, Yojuro replied.
— You, for example?
— Perhaps.
They walked out into the central courtyard.
The sun fell upon the white stones of the academy, fountains threw brilliant arcs, the towers carved the sky like noble spears, and everywhere students practiced, laughed, challenged, and judged one another.
Zayn spun around.
— This school is beautiful.
— It is strategic, Yojuro corrected.
— Let me be poetic for two seconds.
He walked a few steps and then stopped.
— Right. I need to go to the bathroom.
— Useless information.
— Respect human needs.
He walked off whistling.
The bathrooms in the north building were surprisingly clean, almost too quiet, bathed in white light filtered through modern stained glass. Zayn entered, hands behind his head.
Then he heard a voice coming from a stall.
A nervous, soft, almost trembling voice.
— It's going to be hard… calm down… breathe… you can do this…
Zayn stopped.
A demonic smile was born on his face.
— Oh no… opportunity.
He raised his wrist.
The Borealis pulsed with a green light.
— Transformation.
A circular wave enveloped him.
His body became translucent, his contours wavered like smoke under the moon, his eyes glowed with a spectral radiance.
Spirit X.
The ghost Primal.
Zayn chuckled.
— I am a problem.
He slowly passed through the stall door like a legendary specter.
Inside, a boy jumped so hard he nearly fell.
Brilliant orange eyes. Messy dark hair. A slightly tilted French artist's hat. A modern black and white uniform, different from the academy's.
The boy screamed:
— AAAAAAAAH!
Spirit X floated before him, arms spread wide.
— Oooooouuuuuh—
— A GHOST! A CULTURED GHOST!
Zayn burst out laughing, doubled over, then the green light covered him again.
He returned to human form.
— Sorry! Sorry! I just wanted to pull a prank!
The boy was panting.
Then he blinked.
Then he burst out laughing too.
— You're completely crazy!
— Thanks.
— I thought I was going to die!
— Don't exaggerate, you looked stressed already.
The boy straightened his hat.
— My name is Haruto.
— Zayn.
They shook hands.
— Are you new?
— Yes.
— Are you weird?
— Very.
— Perfect, Zayn said. We're going to get along great.
Haruto laughed again.
— Your power is incredible! You turned into a ghost!
— A spectral Primal, nuance.
— Even better!
They walked out of the bathroom together, already talking too loudly like two friends who had no patience for the slowness of normal relationships.
Yojuro was waiting for them in the hallway, leaning against the wall.
— I heard your screams.
Zayn stopped dead.
— That's impossible.
— Why?
— You're wearing a helmet.
Yojuro raised an eyebrow.
— It is not a helmet.
Haruto looked at Zayn.
— Is he always like this?
— Worse, Yojuro replied.
— Lie, said Zayn.
— Statistic.
Haruto burst out laughing.
And for the first time since his arrival, the academy seemed less immense, less cold, less menacing.
Because a place becomes livable the moment you find someone to laugh with.
In the distance, however, behind the mountains, a red shadow was already watching the sacred walls of the school.