Amane lunged into the air, her form cutting through the darkness like a streak of white light.
Her katana gleamed, then fell.
The blade sliced down in a precise arc toward the demon.
In that split second, it tilted its head just slightly, body shifting smoothly to the side, and the strike cut through nothing but air.
Amane landed lightly on her feet, the sound barely audible against the void beneath her.
With no hesitation or pause.
The moment her soles touched down, she surged forward again, her blade flashing with ruthless speed.
The demon's arm shot up.
A sharp clang reverberated through the darkness as steel met flesh—and was stopped.
Amane's eyes widened slightly.
The hands blocking her sword weren't ordinary.
From them a dark tarkata—sword-like protrusions, pulsing faintly as though alive, layered across and stuck out the demon's forearms. The impact sent sparks flying as she struck metal.
The demon smirked.
With a single motion, it parried her strike, forcing her backward.
Amane slid several feet across the dark floor before she grounded herself, lowering her stance, the tip of her katana dragging faintly against the surface of the ground.
The sleeves of the demon's fine suit tore apart, hanging loosely from its elbows, exposing the grotesque, spiked sword beneath.
"Interesting…" it murmured, its voice low and smooth.
Then, slowly, it lifted its hand and licked a trace of black blood from its wrist. "It's been a while since I've felt resistance."
Its eyes—cold, sharp, unblinking—locked onto her again.
And then it moved.
Its figure vanished from sight and reappeared in front of Amane with an almost inaudible whoosh, its arm swinging down like a hammer meant to crush stone.
Amane's expression didn't change.
But for the first time, a faint smile touched her lips.
"Got you.'
Just as the demon's clawed strike was about to connect, the ground beneath it shuddered.
The darkness twisted—rippled like disturbed water—and then split open.
A massive, tooth-lined maw erupted from below, its presence accompanied by a guttural, otherworldly roar that seemed to shake the entire void.
From within, a shadowed creature—the same spectral demon Amane had summoned before—lunged upward with blinding speed.
The suited demon barely had time to react before the beast's jaws closed around it, swallowing it whole in a single, devastating motion.
A sickening crunch echoed, followed by silence.
The summoned demon's eyes gleamed faintly, and with a final growl, it sank back into the portal, dragging its prey down with it until the void consumed itself completely.
Then, In an instant, the oppressive darkness dissolved.
Itsuki blinked rapidly, shielding his eyes from the sudden brightness. The air was fresh again, cool against his skin.
They were standing in the middle of the school's field.
There was no blood, no void, no demon.
Just the quiet hum of wind brushing past the grass.
Itsuki exhaled shakily, pulling the headphones off his head.
"What… just happened?'
Amane turned her gaze toward him, her katana dissolving into white fragments of light that vanished around her hand.
"Don't think too much of it," she said simply, brushing a speck of dust off her uniform. "That demon was weak. All I had to do was excite it a little and make it believe it stood a chance. And once it got too hungry…" she glanced toward where the void had been moments ago, "…it did exactly what I needed it to."
Itsuki stared at her, speechless. He was obviously devastated by all that had happened. Once again, he had so many questions he wanted to ask—so many things he wanted to understand. But before he could even gather his thoughts, his eyes lingered on where they stood.
"We're… in the school's field right now. Though, I'm not sure what time or even what day it is,'
he thought to himself, feeling the cold air prickle against his skin.
It was only then that he finally took a full look around. The trees that bordered the field had a strange color—not one peculiar to summer. Even the air felt heavier, different, like it carried a feel that didn't belong to the season.
And then, something white drifted down onto his shoulder.
He blinked, tilting his head to look at it.
"It can't be… can it?'
Slowly, he looked up. From the pale sky above, tiny white flakes were falling.
Snow.
"But… it was summer just a few hours ago. Why is it snowing?'
Amane's voice came softly, almost as though she understood the confusion he was feeling.
"Though it probably didn't feel like it, we were stuck in there for a bit. Over a month, it seems."
She paused, watching the dazed look in his eyes as he tried to make sense of it all.
"It's hard to explain this part," she continued gently, "but… it'll be like we never left. Like we were never gone for all that time. Your mum, your friends, they haven't seen you in weeks, but to them, it won't seem that way. No matter how much you try to explain it."
Itsuki turned to her, his face pale, his expression a storm of disbelief.
"What…?"
Amane took a calm breath.
"I know so many things have happened, and I haven't exactly been helpful with explanations. But you've got to take it one step at a time—"
Her words began to fade into the background.
The only thing Itsuki could hear was the chaos of his own thoughts. His mind flashed back to the vision. The vision that had felt too real. The one where he saw his mother's death—felt every second of it as though it were happening to him.
And in that vision, in the blur of grief and light, he remembered one thing vividly.
"Her hair was up,' he thought to himself, "and after it happened… as she lay there, lifeless…'
He lifted his trembling hands, watching the snow as it dropped, melting against his skin.
"Snow began to fall.'
He looked up again, eyes wide with dread.
"Am I too late?"