Hanging up the phone, the dark purple energy lingering on Fuuki's fingertips receded like a tide, quietly disappearing.
He released his hand from the balcony railing, and the heavy oppressive feeling that had enveloped him during the call, almost solidifying the air, also dissipated, leaving only the usual cool breath of the evening wind.
He turned and pushed open the glass door leading into the room, only to find a small figure tightly curled up deep within the single sofa.
Wakaba Mutsumi was tightly hugging the cucumber pillow, her chin almost buried in the soft green, and the light cast a small, uneasy shadow beneath her downcast eyelashes.
"Fuuki, what was that?" Her voice was very soft, with an almost imperceptible tension.
"This?"
Fuuki casually raised his hand, his fingertips moving slightly, and a wisp of dark purple, viscous energy silently reappeared, flowing and intertwining slowly between his fingers like a living thing.
Mutsumi immediately nodded vigorously, her small body shrinking further into the depths of the sofa.
"No need to be nervous."
Fuuki took a few steps closer, the wisp of dark purple energy obediently hovering under his control.
"This is a practice imitation of your 'disguise' ability, of course, with a bit of my own understanding added."
With White Snake not yet fully recovered, he could only rely on the most primitive direct contact to activate his ability.
This limitation did not stop him; instead, it became an opportunity to refine his skills. Just like when he comforted the girl with a toothache at the hospital, he constantly experimented with the speed and precision of 'extraction,' and how to accomplish it all without others' knowledge.
And at Haneoka this noon, facing Shiina Taki's stubbornness and Takagi Naoko's distortion, made him realize the need for a more efficient and impactful "door-knocker."
The face Mutsumi gave him was already top-tier in "charm," and White Snake's ability to dissolve minds and create openings was powerful enough. The combination of the two was sufficient to be effective in most situations. But Fuuki always felt that there was still a missing, more overwhelming "decisive" element.
As he concentrated on this missing link, a figure appeared with striking clarity deep in his mind.
Handsome, sinister, pure evil, an emperor entrenched on a dark throne—DIO.
That man, without even needing to use the power of his Stand, could, by his mere presence, make countless people willingly bow down, offering their loyalty and even their lives.
Was it from his charm? His power? These might all be reasons. But more fundamentally, Fuuki thought, perhaps it was the suffocating oppressive feeling emanating from that pure, ultimate "evil" that crushed everything.
A pure and powerful aura, like the gravity emanating from the abyss itself—this was precisely what he lacked.
Different targets require different keys.
Facing a girl as sensitive and eager for attention as Chihaya Anon, one needed to show warmth and charm.
Facing a heart torn by inferiority and stubbornness like Shiina Taki's, one needed to display power capable of deterrence and precisely strike the resonating points deep within her soul.
And facing someone like Takagi Naoko, the most effective method was to directly crush her shaky psychological defenses with absolute oppressive force. When her mind developed a crack and she was about to fall into an abyss, a seemingly redemptive spider's thread named "reassurance" would be offered at the opportune moment.
Thus, he tried to drive the power of White Snake, using DIO's terrifying presence from memory as a blueprint.
It was no longer simply dissolving minds, but utilizing its characteristics of creating illusions and distorting perceptions to cover himself with an invisible 'Shadow'.
The 'Shadow' simulated the pressure of that pure evil, blending mystery with a bone-chilling sense of dread.
Covering his face with a shadow also aptly fit the imprint of the 'Savior of Villains' left in his heart.
Fuuki explained the principle and tactical use of the "Shadow" in concise language. Mutsumi listened quietly, her light green eyelashes lowered, concealing the thoughts in her eyes.
She nodded, half-understanding, but her arms clutching the cucumber pillow seemed to tighten even more.
A subtle sense of loss quietly spread in her heart.
She was wondering if her help to Fuuki was truly indispensable?
"!?"
The girl's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by her body's abrupt movement.
Fuuki strode to the sofa without warning, bent down, and before the girl could react, moved her along with the sofa to the desk.
The faint blue light of the screen once again illuminated his expressionless profile. He released his hand, pointing to the densely packed band-related information pages open on the screen—music theory terms, classic band history, member roles, rehearsal procedures...
"The day after tomorrow is the band members' first official joint practice," Fuuki's gaze shifted from the screen to Mutsumi, who was still slumped in the sofa, somewhat bewildered, holding the pillow.
"My knowledge in this area is still too shallow."
His gaze fell on her, as if entrusting an important task.
"Mutsumi, help me."
A brief silence.
In the sofa, the girl held the cucumber pillow, her amber eyes subtly glinting in the blue light of the screen.
"...Okay."
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