Your gaze remained locked onto the strange man before you, your muscles taut with unease. His presence carried an unnatural air, something that prickled against your senses like static before a storm. Shadows clung to his slender frame, the faint remnants of malice woven into the scars that marred his face.

Narrowing your eyes, you sucked in a slow breath before releasing a low, quiet hiss. "And who might you be?" Your voice was measured but sharp, laced with suspicion, like steel drawn halfway from its sheath.

The man's lips curled into a smile, something eerie in its ease—too comfortable, too knowing. "I told you," he replied smoothly. "My name is Mahito." His expression faltered only slightly before his amusement returned, dark and unreadable. With a lazy flick of his fingers, he gestured for you to follow, the motion deceptively casual. "Come with me. I want you to meet someone."

For a moment, silence stretched between you like a taut wire. Then, with deliberate movements, you straightened to your full height, stepping forward slowly. The shift in posture forced Mahito to tilt his head up slightly to keep you in his sights, though his expression barely wavered.

But then—just for a fraction of a second—his lips gave the tiniest twitch.

She's bigger than what Geto told me, he thought, eyes subtly scanning your stance, the sheer presence you exuded. She seems purposeful.

And worse—far worse—was the swirling energy that radiated off of you in invisible waves.

Her cursed energy is so strong, it's nearly overwhelming.

The realization sent a thrill of excitement through him, but it was laced with something deeper, something cautious. You weren't just an anomaly in this world—you were a force.

Tipping your head slightly to the side, you exhaled a slow, measured sigh, your expression shifting into something that teetered between amusement and warning. Then, with a sharp, almost predatory smile, you bared your fangs—canines gleaming under the dim light like the edge of a dagger catching the sun.

"Alright," you murmured, voice deceptively sweet, but laced with something cold, something primal. "But know this—"

With calculated ease, you leaned in, closing the space between you until your lips hovered mere inches from his. His breath hitched, though his smirk remained, but the flicker in his eyes betrayed something more.

"Try and mess with me, mortal," you whispered, voice velvety and edged with a threat that curled around the words like smoke. "And I'll tear your soul out. Okay?"

Then, as if to contrast the sharpness of your words, you offered him a closed-eye smile, deceptive in its softness. A cruel mimicry of innocence.

He gulped.

For the first time in his life, Mahito—Manipulator of Souls, embodiment of chaos—felt something alien creep down his spine.

Fear.

And mixed within it, shamefully tangled and unexpected—desire.

He hesitated for a moment, then smiled nervously. "Y-yes, this way, please," he stammered, stepping back clumsily as he led you out of your dorm room. Without question, you followed, walking just behind him, hands stuffed deep in your pockets. Yet despite your seemingly relaxed posture, your senses were scattered, alert, picking up every flicker of movement, every shift in the air.

The campus surroundings blurred around you, swallowed by the dimming evening light as footsteps echoed softly against the pavement. Soon, you stopped near an alleyway, your steps faltering as a familiar scent curled into your lungs—Geto.

Your nose scrunched instinctively, recognition flaring in your mind just as the name fell from your lips. "Geto?"

Before you could react, Mahito moved. In one swift motion, he whirled on you, his grin stretching wide as his hand shot out, fingers digging into your shoulders. A gasp barely had time to leave your lips before you were shoved back, your spine hitting the cold, unforgiving wall of the alley.

Your vision shifted, adjusting to the dim light—and then, just beyond Mahito's shoulder, his face emerged from the shadows.

Geto.

His smile was warm, a stark contrast to the eerie tension thrumming in the air—a smile reserved only for you, the one he always gave you, soft and knowing.

His fingers ghosted over your face, lingering just under your chin as he tilted your head slightly, inspecting. Mahito didn't move, merely watching with an unsettling glint in his eye.

"Hey, dear," Geto murmured, voice smooth, like silk wrapped around steel. His expression remained calm, almost affectionate, though something darker lurked beneath. "Sorry, but I knew you wouldn't leave campus without a little... persuasion."

His touch burned where it lingered, and as your mind raced, you knew one thing for certain—you had walked straight into their trap.

You snarled, your voice low and dangerous, raw emotion crackling through the air like static before a storm. "You're my teacher. I would follow you anywhere." The words came like a vow, laced with fury and defiance, each syllable dripping with the weight of something unshakable.

Then, in an instant, you snapped—your patience unraveling like fraying thread. Your sharp gaze locked onto Mahito's mismatched eyes, your lips curling as you bared your teeth, predatory and sharp. The air around you thickened, thrumming with the force of your cursed energy, pressing down like an invisible storm.

"Let me go, fool."

Mahito stilled, his playful arrogance momentarily cracking as something primal clawed through him. His body refused to move, his breathing hitched—an unfamiliar sensation tightening around his throat. His grip faltered, fingers loosening as if compelled beyond his will. For the first time, he was unable to twist or control the situation as he pleased.

He obeyed.

Stepping back, his expression flickering with something unreadable, Mahito watched as Geto's brows furrowed, the calculating look in his eyes deepening.

She's stronger than I expected.

Geto's thoughts churned, his fingers twitching at his sides as he observed the way your energy coiled and expanded, nearly unbearable in its intensity. He could feel it—so could Mahito. The weight of it. The raw, unfiltered potential.

Overwhelming.

Power like this... it was dangerous. And yet, undeniably, it was enticing.

You lifted your chin, defiance burning in your gaze as you locked eyes with Geto. The dim alleyway light cast sharp shadows over his face, accentuating the calm yet unreadable expression he wore. His usual warmth was there—faint, lingering like the ghost of a memory—but beneath it was something heavier, something calculated.

Your voice came steady, edged with challenge. "Now, what do you want, Riduur?"

The word slipped past your lips like a blade unsheathed, a test, a warning, a truth laid bare between you. His golden eyes flickered with recognition, amusement curling at the edges of his lips.

Mahito, standing just a step away, tilted his head, intrigued at the shift in your tone. He could feel it—the weight behind your words, the steel in your posture.

A pause.

Then, Geto smiled. And that smile... it meant trouble.