Daiki had worn uniforms before.
But this one felt a bit different.
The fabric was a bit thicker than his old school's, the cut sharper, more formal. The sleeves of the blazer bore the Shinyo Institute's crest, two interlocking circles divided by a bold line. It was the kind of symbol that probably meant something, but no one had bothered to tell him yet.
He adjusted the stiff collar and then sighed.
"Still just me," he muttered at the mirror. "Same face. Same bed hair. Just... more buttons now."
He tried fixing his hair, gave up halfway, and headed out as the morning bell echoed across Dorm C.
The auditorium reminded him of a shrine. Except instead of monks, it was packed full of teens in matching uniforms. Some chatted in groups. Others sat in silence with perfect posture.
Considering he was the new kid, Daiki was one of the last ones to arrive.
A faculty member nearby pointed him toward an empty seat near the back. He moved quickly, trying not to draw too much attention. It didn't really work.
"Isn't that the new kid?"
"The late bloomer, right?"
"He's kinda boring looking. Did he really beat a Yurei?"
Daiki stared straight ahead, clutching the hem of his blazer with one hand.
Every glance felt like an expectation he didn't even agree to carry.
At the front of the room stood the Headmaster. He was a tall man with shoulder-length hair that almost seemed silver in color and sharp but mesmerizing purple eyes that didn't seem to miss anything.
"I am Headmaster Arata," he began. "And each of you is here for a reason."
The murmurs quieted instantly.
"Many of you were born into this life and forced to train your entire childhood. And a few of you were pulled in by circumstance. The door into our world is not always one we choose."
Daiki didn't move. Something about the way Arata spoke made every word sink into Daiki's head deeper than it should have.
"You've all been granted a power," Arata continued, "but that power without control means nothing. Strength, here, is not measured by raw talent or sheer power. It's measured by how well you understand yourself."
A heavy silence followed.
Then came the avalanche of rules: curfew, proper etiquette during classes, schedules, and something about...rankings? Daiki really couldn't absorb all of it. His head was just swimming with words he could barely understand.
Around him, the other students nodded along as if it were all review. He felt like he'd shown up halfway through a movie and everyone else had read the script but him.
The rest of the orientation blurred together.
A string of instructors and faculty came up, each talking about safety guidelines, regulations, and the importance of humility. Daiki could barely track any of it. His overstimulated mind kept bouncing between the room filled with complete strangers and the faint pressure in his chest that still hadn't gone away since that night.
When the orientation finally ended, students stood and filled out in casual groups, chatting with friends, comparing notes and schedules, or just stretching their legs. Daiki was still trying to get all of his thoughts straight, and then a sharp voice suddenly cut into his ears.
"Stay back."
He turned to see a tall instructor near the rear entrance. He was thin, clean-shaven, and dressed in a black uniform without a single wrinkle. He had a name tag near his chest that read "Instructor Matsuda".
Daiki froze. "Uh... did I do something?"
"Not yet," Matsuda said. "But you're scheduled for an evaluation. Come with me."
Daiki had completely forgotten about that. He looked around, unsure if this was normal. Some students glanced his way again. Jin, who had left the dorm before Daiki could wake up, caught Daiki's eye standing in the back of the room.
Matsuda turned and started walking.
Daiki followed, muttering under his breath, "This place loves jumping the new kid."
They walked through the side halls of the Institute, past inner gardens, and old-looking buildings Daiki hadn't seen before. Eventually, they reached a low, heavy-looking structure tucked behind what appeared to be a training field of some sort. Matsuda opened a sliding door and stepped inside without saying a word.
Daiki followed him into a dim hallway.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
"Simulation wing," Matsuda said. "Where we test the nature, aptitude, and control of the Ketsugojin of students like you. As you already probably know, most late bloomers awaken their Ketsugojin under extreme stress."
"Yeah. Like when a giant nightmare tried killing me."
Matsudsa didn't react.
"Because of that," he continued, "we need to replicate those conditions and test your instincts, refinement, and control."
"....What do you mean by replicate?"
Matsuda abruptly ignored him and continued walking until he stopped in front of a sealed black door with a single red marking in the middle of it. Matsuda looked back at him with a blank expression.
"You'll see. Think of it as your first test."
Daiki raised an eyebrow. "Wait... test?"
Before he could ask more, the door slid open with a mechanical and loud hiss.
Inside was a wide, circular chamber made of smooth black stone. The air buzzed with what sounded like faint electricity, which made the hair on the back of Daiki's neck rise.
"Enter the ring," Matsuda instructed.
Daiki hesitated. "And if I say no?"
"Then we'll know exactly how useful you aren't," Matsuda replied without blinking.
Daiki sighed. "Everyone at this place sucks at leading with encouragement."
He forced himself to step into the center of the ring, despite his gut aggressively telling him not to.
The door sealed shut behind him with a loud, final thunk.
A mechanical voice crackled from above.
"Trial initialized. Combat simulation engaged."
The lights dimmed. The circle beneath Daiki's feet pulsed faintly.
A deep chill crept into the room.
His knuckles began to ache.
The same loud and aggressive pressure from that night returned to his chest.
For a split second, all he could smell was rain and concrete.
Shadows thickened across the far side of the chamber.
From those shadows, something began to rise.
A shape, long and twisted, like a stick figure drawn wrong on purpose. Its body flickered, half flesh and half smoke. The Yurei's stitched mouth opened in a soundless scream.
Daiki took a slow step back.
"No. No, no, no, GET. ME. OUT OF HERE!"
The creature lunged.