The fluorescent hum was louder now. Every flicker of light cut through the dim corridor, making the world stutter. The air was colder here, sharper, and the floor smelled faintly of bleach and blood. Yoru stood still, letting the sounds settle. Distant footsteps echoed down the hall. A voice. Laughter, quick and careless. The world moved, oblivious to her return.
Her hands were shaking again. Taylor's hands. She hated them. Too soft, too human. She flexed them, trying to remember how to command a body like this. It did not respond like a weapon, more like a frightened animal. Her heartbeat was wild, refusing to obey.
A door creaked open somewhere down the hall.
Instinct made her duck low, pressed against the lockers. Her mind hissed with anger. Once, nothing on Earth or in Hell could have made her hide. But the weakness of flesh was real. The body trembled even as her mind screamed for stillness.
"Hello? Is someone there?"
The voice was small, uncertain, carrying down the empty hallway. A girl's.
Yoru caught a glimpse of her through the doorway of a nearby classroom. Short and nervous, she walked the hall with a clipboard, checking rooms after school. Her uniform was too big at the shoulders, her movements tentative.
Taylor's memories whispered the girl's name before Yoru could stop them. Mina.
The girl stepped closer, shoes squeaking softly on the tiles. "I thought I heard something," she said, voice low and hesitant.
Yoru froze. The body she now inhabited, soft human face, uniform torn, blood smeared across skin looked almost normal. Only a faint swirl lingered in the dark pupils, subtle enough that it might be missed in passing. Warmth pressed behind her eyes, tears that were not hers.
She forced a voice out. It rasped like paper tearing. "Hello."
Mina's eyes widened, and she took a cautious step back. Fear bloomed instantly, sharp and sweet, like iron on Yoru's tongue. It hit her system like a drug. The lights above flickered brighter and louder as the current pulsed through her veins.
"What… what happened to you?" Mina asked, voice trembling.
Yoru glanced down at the body. Knees cut, blood mixing with rust from the locker. She tried to straighten, ignoring how the legs protested. The fear surrounding her, constant and sweet, gave her strength.
"It is nothing," she said quietly.
Mina froze, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. Her gaze lingered, hesitant and uncertain, scanning the cuts, the blood, the unnatural pupils. Every instinct screamed to run or call someone, but something held her in place. Finally, she swallowed and took a careful step back. "Okay… just… try to be careful," she whispered, voice tight.
Yoru did not answer. She watched the girl retreat down the hall, footsteps quick and uneven, fading into the distance. When the sound was gone, she exhaled slowly. The body still shook, but the fear she had absorbed, constant and steady, was doing its work. Strength trickled back into her fingers.
The corridor stretched before her, pale and quiet. Empty classrooms lined the hall, doors slightly ajar. Every surface, every shadow, carried traces of tension connected to struggle and conflict, the faint echo of fear that came from fights, threats, or danger. Yoru drew it in, letting it thicken around her. The air hummed faintly under her skin. Strength pulsed through the body, small but steady.
The locker she had emerged from lingered in her mind. The rot of paper, damp pads, and rust clung faintly to her senses, a reminder of the first fear she had drawn. It was the gateway between Taylor's world and her own.
Her bare feet slapped softly against tile as she moved down the hall. She felt the residual fear embedded in the empty rooms. Even in this quiet, after-school stillness, conflict left traces of dread in layers thin and subtle, thick and heavy, and she could taste it all.
She passed a row of windows. Pale light spilled across wet concrete outside. She pressed her hand lightly against the cool glass, feeling the hum of life beyond. Fear of conflict stirred everywhere, subtle but persistent. The world was full of it, and all of it fed her.
Yoru straightened. The body no longer trembled. It had served its purpose, carried her through the first test. Now, the world beyond awaited. Outside, the fear was thicker, wilder, more potent. Cities had bred it for centuries. Humanity's instinct to fight and flee was endless.
She exhaled, tasting it through her senses. Strength flickered in her fingers, faint but undeniable. Soon, she would walk freely, unrestrained, in a world that remembered war.
She turned away from the windows and continued down the hall, footsteps light, unhurried. There would be more fear. Soon. She knew how to find it now.