The dueling hall had never been this quiet.
Not after a match. Not after a win. Not even after a scandal.
Only the echo of falling rain outside filled the silence, faint against the vaulted windows. The floor still shimmered where blades had clashed moments ago — a few droplets of blood from Valmont's split knuckles marking the marble like punctuation marks to something unreal.
Toji had already left, but his presence still lingered — heavy, invisible, unshakable.
Valmont stood motionless at the center of the ring, his breath measured but uneven. The enchanted bandage wrapped tight around his wrist pulsed faintly with blue light, sealing bone and tendon. A single movement replayed in his mind — a blur, a flicker, a cut too clean to follow.
He'd faced vampires, gorgons, even full-blood werewolves before. But this… this wasn't a duel.
It was dissection.
> "I didn't even seen him move properly," Valmont muttered under his breath.
Students whispered at the edges of the hall — too afraid to approach, too enthralled to leave. Bianca's confident poise was gone, replaced by quiet disbelief. Wednesday, however, hadn't moved. She simply watched the space where Toji had been, eyes dark, unreadable.
Bianca finally spoke, her voice brittle.
> "You're going to file a report, aren't you?"
Valmont exhaled, turning his gaze toward the rain-slicked window.
> "I'll do more than that," he said quietly — though even he didn't sound convinced.
---
Toji
He walked through Nevermore's corridors like nothing happened.
Hands in pockets, uniform jacket half unbuttoned, damp hair brushing against his collar. The scent of steel and sweat still clung faintly to him — not unpleasant, just real.
Students who had once stared with curiosity now pressed themselves flat against the walls when he passed. Some whispered his name, others just lowered their eyes.
> "Frump."
The name didn't fit. Not anymore. It sounded too soft, too human.Unlike her usual steel tone
He was halfway down the north wing when he heard it — footsteps, measured, deliberate, a rhythm he was starting to recognize.
> "You didn't answer my question," Wednesday said from behind him.
He didn't turn.
> "You didn't ask one."
> "Why did you intervene in a matter that wasn't yours?"
He stopped, the faintest smirk touching his lips.
> "Because it was becoming boring."
Wednesday stepped closer, tone sharp.
> "So you humiliate people for entertainment?"
He finally turned to face her. His expression was calm, unreadable — the kind of calm that didn't need defending.
> "No," he said. "I stop them from wasting my time."
Her brows drew together, just slightly.
> "You enjoy provoking me."
He tilted his head, eyes glinting with dry amusement.
> "You make it too easy."
The air thickened between them.
She studied him — his eyes, his stillness, the faint scar along his lip catching the hallway light. Every instinct in her screamed to categorize him, label him, understand him. But Toji was a mirror that refused to reflect.
> "Whatever you think this is," she said coldly, "you're wrong."
> "Then tell me what it is," he countered. "Because so far, you haven't stopped following me."
A flicker crossed her eyes — irritation? curiosity? Something more dangerous?
> "You're not worth following."
> "Then stop trying to catch up."
He brushed past her shoulder, and for a moment, their eyes met — hers burning, his silent, distant.
> "You think you can just say what you want and walk away?" she said sharply.
He paused at the end of the corridor, glancing back over his shoulder.
> "No," he said softly. "I just think you're a stain that won't wash off."
The words hung there, cold and deliberate, slicing through the quiet.
By the time she found her voice again, he was already gone — just the fading echo of his steps down the hall.
---
Later That Night
Principal Weems sat alone in her office, the glow from the rain-dimmed windows painting her desk in pale blue.
The letter from Valmont lay open before her — his handwriting hurried, uneven.
> Subject: Toji Frump — Dueling Evaluation Report
Summary:
Despite being a full-blooded werewolf with enhanced reflexes, I was unable to properly track the student's form during combat. The engagement lasted approximately six seconds before disarmament.
Observations:
His physical speed and precision exceed known limits for any unclassified species at Nevermore. No aura, no curse signature, no external enhancement detected.
Conclusion:
Recommend further observation. Immediate re-evaluation of student's background advised.
Weems read the paragraph twice, then set it down gently. Her eyes flicked toward the rain-streaked glass.
> "So," she murmured to herself. "Hester's boy wasn't an exaggeration after all."
The candle on her desk flickered, throwing her shadow against the wall — long, stretched, uneasy.
---
drop a stone so l know you appreciate it