Saint Lycoris Academy — 23:45 hoursLocation: Old Chapel District, Mission Zone 09-B
The storm is gone, but the air still smells like rust and lightning.Assignments like this are routine — one target, internal corruption cleanup.Nothing personal.It's never personal.
They call it Confession Work.We purge the unfaithful before dawn so the Academy's holiness survives another day.If the world sees blood, they call it sacrifice.If we see it, we call it maintenance.
Tonight's target is a priest.He once taught me the difference between guilt and efficiency.Now I'll teach him the price of both.
Mission Log — 09-B / Operative "Lycoris Noir"
Target: Fr. Halden VeyClassification: traitor/data leakLocation: sub-chapel archiveExecution parameters: silent/ceremonialCleanup: authorized
I enter through the east wing — barefoot, habit folded under the black coat.Candles bow slightly as I pass, their flames bending with the current of my steps.They say even fire knows when to fear its own reflection.
The priest kneels at the altar, muttering prayers like code, lips trembling in rhythm with the hymn echoing from the speakers above.He doesn't hear me.He never does.
For a moment, I hesitate — not from mercy, but memory.His hands once adjusted my rosary when I was too young to understand death.He said, "Hold your faith tight, little one."He forgot to say what happens when faith becomes the rope.
I raise the blade.
Internal Shift — Shadow Ghost (First Awakening)
[Voice: Shadow Ghost]"No hesitation. No noise.""He was kind once.""Irrelevant. Kindness dies faster than orders.""He'll bleed.""So do prayers."
Steel cuts air.Light breaks over the blade like a split halo.No sound — not even a gasp.He folds forward, a puppet losing its string.The hymn continues, perfectly in time.
I catch him before he hits the marble.His blood stains the sleeve of my uniform — warm, immediate.It feels… human.
I wipe it away anyway.
Footsteps echo down the hall.Security patrol. Two officers — earlier than scheduled.Shadow Ghost whispers:
"Eliminate. Witnesses mean failure."
But when the figures turn the corner, they're not guards.They're students.And one of them is Ren.
He shouldn't be here.His eyes lock on mine, then on the body behind me.For one impossible second, everything stops — the hymn, the air, even my pulse.
Then instinct moves faster than guilt.
I step forward, gloved hand pressing his shoulder, forcing him back into shadow.The blade tilts, its edge grazing his throat — a whisper of danger, deliberate, calculated.
He doesn't flinch.He just whispers:
REN: "Kana… what are you doing?"
I don't answer.If I speak, the world will break.
My hand trembles; the mask does not.Shadow Ghost speaks instead.
[Voice: Shadow Ghost]"Neutralize variable. Maintain control.""No. Not him.""He saw.""He stays."
Two commands fight inside my chest.The blade presses harder.He winces, breath fogging against steel.The smell of rain drifts through the cracked window.
Then —The alarm lights flicker.Automatic purge system engaged.Motion detected.
Shadow Ghost urges: Move.I force my hand down instead.The voice screams in my head like tearing metal.
Mission Log — Post-Event Summary (Redacted)
Unauthorized witness encountered.Witness spared.Primary target eliminated.Emotional deviation: confirmed.Punishment: pending.
We flee before the sirens reach full pitch.The chapel lights flash crimson behind us, painting the rain red as blood.I drag him through the side garden, breath uneven, hair soaked against my face.He stumbles once but doesn't pull away.
He tries to speak, but the words drown in the thunder.When we reach the gate, I stop.
The mask slides from my face and falls into the mud with a dull clap.The painted smile stares up at us, unbroken, absurd.
Ren bends down, picks it up carefully.For a moment, he studies it like it's part of me he's not supposed to see.
REN: "This isn't you."KANA: "Then who is it?"REN: "Someone trying to remember."
His voice is quiet, steady.No accusation.No fear.Just truth.
I take the mask back and say nothing.
Back in my dorm, I clean the blade under cold water.Blood leaves easily; reflection doesn't.The sink fills with pale red before the drain swallows it whole.Somewhere in the pipes, the academy keeps its silence.
In the mirror, the mask hangs on its hook, smiling like it knows something I don't.Its grin looks wider tonight — like a wound healing wrong.
Diary Fragment
[Fragment Log #05]Mission 09-B complete.Compromise: civilian witness (Ren Kaido).Emotional interference: severe.
Secondary Note: Witness still breathing.Unclear if mercy or malfunction.
Handwritten addition:He saw me. And didn't run.I think that's what broke me the most.
I sit on the floor until the lights dim.My hands ache from gripping the blade too long.The rain outside shifts from thunder to drizzle, soft enough to hear my own heartbeat again.
The voices are quiet tonight.Shadow Ghost sleeps, exhausted from defiance.But her words still echo in the corners of my mind:
"Kindness dies faster than orders."
Maybe she's wrong.Maybe that's why I spared him.Or maybe she's right, and I'm just waiting for mine to die too.
At 01:00, the Academy resets its surveillance grid.No records of his presence will remain.On paper, the mission is perfect.On paper, I am perfect.
But paper burns easier than memory.
Before sleep, I retrieve the mask from where it hangs and turn it over in my hands.The surface is smooth, the paint still wet from rain.Behind its smiling mouth, the faint imprint of my breath has dried like frost.
I set it on the desk, facing the mirror.For a heartbeat, the reflection shows two smiles — mine and its.Then I blink, and only one remains.
Outside, lightning touches the old chapel spire one last time.The thunder sounds like applause.Inside, I whisper the closing prayer the way he once taught me:
"Faith is the shadow of love that forgets the sun."
It used to comfort me.Now it just feels like an unfinished sentence.
End of Diary #5 — "The Mask Smiles Back."