The morning sun filtered through the windows of John Bosco Culinary College, casting long golden rectangles across polished hallways. Students rushed past in clusters, their voices echoing off the walls—laughter, complaints about early classes, the universal language of young people not quite awake enough to face the day.
From somewhere deep in the bakery kitchens, the smell of fresh bread drifted through the corridors. It mingled with the sharper scent of coffee from the student lounge and the occasional whiff of something burning from a first-year who had misjudged their cooking time.
Yuuta walked among them, but not with them.
His feet moved automatically toward the nurse's office—a route he knew by heart after years of visits. His shoulders felt heavy. His eyes burned with exhaustion that sleep hadn't touched. Every step required effort that shouldn't have been necessary.
He knocked on the familiar door.
"Come in."
He entered.
Dr. Jenny sat behind her desk, a cup of tea steaming at her elbow, her kind eyes lifting to meet his the moment he stepped inside. She was in her thirties, with warm brown skin and hair pulled back in a loose ponytail that had more gray in it than he remembered. She had been his nurse back in the orphanage days—the only adult who had ever looked at his scars without flinching, who had bandaged his wounds without asking questions he couldn't answer, who had listened to his nightmares without telling him they weren't real.
When she'd transferred to this college, Yuuta had been surprised.
And secretly, deeply relieved.
She was the only one who understood.
Or at least, the only one who tried.
"Sit down, Yuuta." Her voice was gentle, as it always was. "You look terrible."
"Thanks." He managed a weak smile and collapsed into the chair across from her. "That's exactly what I needed to hear."
She didn't smile back.
Her eyes were studying him—really studying him, the way she always did when something was wrong.
"So," she said quietly, "how do you feel today?"
Yuuta looked down at his hands.
At the paper cup of water she'd placed in front of him without him noticing.
"To be honest..." He hesitated. "I'm still having nightmares. And I feel tired. Not normal tired. Like... something's draining me."
"Nightmares again?" Her brow furrowed deeper.
"Yeah." He traced the rim of the cup with his finger. "Worse than before."
Dr. Jenny leaned forward, her elbows on the desk, her full attention focused on him.
"Tell me about this one."
Yuuta took a breath.
The dream came back in fragments—images, sensations, feelings that clung to him like cobwebs.
"This time, it was too real. More real than any dream I've ever had." He closed his eyes, trying to find the words. "I was running through a forest. Alone. Everything was dark—not nighttime dark, but shadow dark, like the light itself was afraid to be there."
He paused.
"There were wolves chasing me. Dire wolves—huge, bigger than any wolf should be. Their eyes were red, and their mouths... their mouths were full of teeth that didn't fit. They were hungry. So hungry. And I was their prey."
Dr. Jenny didn't interrupt.
Didn't move.
"I was holding two rings," Yuuta continued. "One was made of wood—plain, rough, like something a child would carve. The other was silver, with markings I couldn't read. I knew, somehow, that I had to protect them. That if the wolves took them, something terrible would happen."
He opened his eyes.
"I was a child in the dream. Three or four years old. Small. Weak. Running through this endless forest with these monsters behind me, getting closer, their breath hot on my neck..."
He trailed off.
"And then I woke up."
Silence filled the room.
Dr. Jenny was quiet for a long moment, her expression thoughtful, troubled.
"Hmm." She tapped her pen against her clipboard. "You were recovering so well this past year. Your episodes were decreasing. The nightmares were less frequent." Her eyes lifted to his. "Why are your symptoms getting worse?"
"I don't know."
"Are you sure," she said carefully, "that you're not doing anything... strange?"
Yuuta blinked.
"Strange? What does that mean?"
She sighed.
Long.
Deep.
Weighed down by things she couldn't say.
"I wish I could explain it in a way you'd understand." She set down her pen. "Let's just say... it's like someone cast black magic on you."
"Black magic?" Yuuta's voice rose despite himself. "That's not—that's not real. Is it?"
"I know it's hard to believe." Her voice was calm, steady—the voice she used when she needed him to trust her. "But you have to be careful. Stop touching unknown things. You're... sensitive to them."
Yuuta wanted to argue.
Wanted to ask what she meant.
Wanted to demand explanations for words that made no sense in a world that was supposed to be ordinary.
But he was too tired.
Too drained.
Too worn down by everything that had happened—the zoo, the lions, the blood, the endless chaos of a life that had stopped making sense days ago.
He just nodded.
"Okay."
Dr. Jenny studied him for another moment.
Then she reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a small stone.
It was white.
Smooth.
Polished.
About the size of a large marble, but heavier, denser, like it contained more than stone should.
"Close your eyes," she said.
Yuuta obeyed.
He felt her move closer. Felt her hand hover near his face. Felt the cool weight of the stone settle against his forehead.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then—
Warmth.
Not painful. Not unpleasant. Just... warmth, spreading from the stone into his skin, through his skull, into the deepest parts of his mind. It was like sinking into a hot bath after years of cold. Like light flooding into a room that had been dark for so long he'd forgotten what brightness felt like.
Something moved inside him.
Something dark.
Something heavy.
Something that had been there for so long he'd stopped noticing its weight.
He felt it being drawn out—pulled from his body like poison from a wound, like splinters from under skin, like shadows fleeing the dawn. It flowed into the stone, carried by that gentle warmth, leaving him lighter than he'd felt in... how long?
Years.
Decades.
His whole life.
When he opened his eyes, the stone was no longer white.
It was black.
Completely, utterly, absolutely black. Not the black of stone or shadow or anything natural. The black of something that had swallowed all the light in the room and asked for more.
Dr. Jenny plucked it from his forehead without a word.
Slid it into her desk drawer.
Closed the drawer.
Locked it.
"You're okay now," she said calmly. "Just let me know if your condition changes again."
Yuuta stretched.
His arms rose above his head.
His back cracked in three places that had been tight for weeks.
His eyes opened wider, clearer, sharper.
The heaviness was gone.
The exhaustion that had been dragging at him for days—weeks? months?—had simply... vanished. He felt alive. Present. Here in a way he hadn't been since... since before he could remember.
"Wow." He looked at his hands, flexing his fingers. "I feel... I feel so much better. I didn't realize how heavy I felt until now. It's like I've been carrying something and I didn't even know it."
Dr. Jenny smiled.
It was a warm smile.
But her eyes—her eyes were worried.
"Good," she said. "That's good."
Then her gaze caught something.
"Hmm." She tilted her head. "Did you wear contact lenses again?"
Yuuta's hand rose instinctively to his eye.
"Well... I still can't bring myself to remove them." He looked away. "My original eyes... they're terrifying to other people."
"Terrifying?"
"They're red. Like... really red. Bright red. The kind of red that makes people stare. Or run." He shrugged, trying to make it casual. "Contacts are easier."
Dr. Jenny was quiet for a moment.
Then she leaned forward.
"Yuuta." Her voice was firm but kind. "You have to accept who you are. All of who you are. If you keep hiding pieces of yourself, you'll spend your whole life struggling against your own reflection."
"I know, Dr. Jenny." He couldn't meet her eyes. "But I don't want to lose my friends. And I'm afraid of the bullying. I've been bullied my whole life. I just want... I just want to be normal."
She sighed.
Long.
Deep.
Sad.
"Nvm." She waved a hand, dismissing the conversation. "You should get to class. It's almost time."
Yuuta stood.
Gathered his bag.
Paused at the door.
"Dr. Jenny..." He turned back. "How much do I owe you?"
"No need." She smiled again—that warm, familiar smile. "Just be careful."
He smiled back.
That warm, grateful smile that had gotten him through so much.
"Thanks, Dr. Jenny. For everything."
"Go." She waved him away. "Learn to cook something delicious. Bring me samples next time."
"Deal."
He left.
The door clicked shut behind him.
---
For a long moment, Dr. Jenny sat perfectly still.
Listening.
Waiting.
Then—
"You can come out now."
The shadows in the corner of the room shifted.
A man stepped forward.
He wore a black combat suit—tactical gear that absorbed light rather than reflected it, military precision in every line. His face was hard, weathered, the face of someone who had seen things that should remain unseen. His eyes moved constantly, scanning, assessing, hunting.
He moved like a predator.
Silent.
Controlled.
Dangerous.
"So." His voice was a command wrapped in gravel. "Did you extract his aura?"
Dr. Jenny didn't flinch.
Didn't seem surprised.
"Of course I did."
"But?" The man's eyes narrowed. "I hear a 'but' in your voice."
She paused.
"His aura level rose again."
"Again?"
"Higher than last time. Much higher."
She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out the black stone.
Held it up.
The man's eyes widened.
"This is..." He took the stone carefully, reverently, turning it over in his gloved hands. "This is concerning. Very concerning."
"I was thinking the same thing."
He slipped the stone into a reinforced container on his belt—a container designed for exactly this purpose.
"We need to report this to the Chief immediately."
"Agreed." Dr. Jenny leaned back in her chair. "Who knows what will happen if this continues? If his aura keeps growing at this rate..."
She didn't finish.
Didn't need to.
The man nodded.
"For now, we'll use this to protect the relic. This stone can hold an incredible amount of power. It's the only reason we've been able to monitor him without detection all these years."
He turned toward the door.
Paused.
"Keep watching him, Jenny. If his condition changes again—if the stone fills any faster—contact me immediately. Day or night."
"I will."
He left.
Silence returned.
Dr. Jenny sat alone in her office, staring at the drawer where the stone had been.
Thinking.
Worrying.
What are you, Yuuta? she wondered. What's growing inside you? And what will happen when it finally breaks free?
She thought of his red eyes.
His impossible scars.
His nightmares that felt too real.
The relic, she thought. He's connected to the relic. Somehow. Some way. And if that connection grows any stronger...
She shook her head.
Drank her cold tea.
Waited for the next student who would walk through her door with a burned hand or a stomach ache or a story that made sense.
But in the back of her mind—
The black stone remained.
And so did her fear.
---
To be continued...