September 25th, 2024. A week had passed since that fateful night, and now—with the Academy trial less than two weeks away—it was exam week. In a quiet corner of the school library, Rei sat with his classmates Hinata and Josuke, textbooks spread out as they prepared for their tests. The atmosphere was charged with the dual pressures of exams and the looming trial that everyone had been discussing.

  The library itself was a sanctuary of quiet study—tall wooden shelves lined with well-worn books, large windows letting in natural light that softened the institutional feel of the space. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across their table, highlighting the dust motes that floated lazily in the air.

  During a brief lull in their study session, Josuke broke the silence with a teasing question.

  "Hey, Rei, how do you really feel about having that nickname, 'the Vessel'?" Josuke's eyes sparkled with mischief, his pencil tapping rhythmically against his open textbook.

  Rei responded in his trademark deadpan tone, launching into a monotonous monologue about his inability to feel anything.

  "Feel? I feel nothing—just an empty container. Emotions and drive... they're all irrelevant," he stated flatly, his dark eyes staring through Josuke rather than at him.

  Hinata and Josuke exchanged exasperated looks. "You're so dark sometimes, seriously," Josuke sighed, shaking his head.

  "Way to kill the mood," Hinata added softly, though concern lingered in her eyes.

  Josuke then glanced at his watch, the digital display catching the afternoon light. "Oh snap, guys! Haikito's about to go live about the Academy thing." He quickly reached for the remote to turn up the volume on the classroom television.

  Rei looked up, his brow furrowing slightly. "Who is Haikito?"

  "Dude, seriously?" Josuke's jaw dropped in exaggerated disbelief. "Only the biggest deal at the Academy. He basically runs the whole show." His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, leaning closer. "They say he's never lost a fight—like, not even once. Nobody knows how he does it, but enemies just... fall before they can even touch him. It's like he knows exactly what they're going to do before they do it."

  The library television switched to live coverage as the press conference began. The moderator—a polished woman in a crisp navy suit—outlined Mr. Haikito's decision to lower the age for entering the Academy. She explained it was a measure intended to combat rising crime by tapping into younger talent, while reminding everyone that sorcery remained a privileged domain.

  Then the camera panned to the stage, and Rei felt his stomach drop.

  There, bathed in stark lights, stood Mr. Haikito—the very mysterious man who had appeared at his apartment. He walked to the podium with measured steps, his posture perfect, his presence commanding immediate attention. The audience fell silent as he adjusted the microphone, his piercing blue eyes scanning the crowd before he began to speak.

  Rei's fingers tightened around his pencil until his knuckles whitened. The room seemed to tilt slightly, his vision narrowing to focus solely on the man who had visited him—the man who had somehow known things about him that even Rei himself didn't understand.

  "Are you sure that's the head of the Academy?" The words spilled from Rei before he could stop them, his usual composure cracking.

  Hinata turned to him, surprise written across her face. "Yeah, that's definitely him. Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

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  Rei quickly recovered, drawing his mask of indifference back into place as he felt her eyes on him. "I'm fine," he muttered, though his heart continued to pound against his ribs.

  Mr. Haikito began his address with cold precision. "The villains are growing stronger, but so is the potential of our youth," he declared, his hands gripping the edges of the podium. "In previous trials, only twenty percent of candidates have succeeded—but that level of mediocrity is no longer acceptable. For this trial, and for all future trials, the conditions will be far harsher. I intend for less than one percent of these hopefuls to pass."

  A reporter pressed further, questioning how such drastic measures wouldn't cripple the Academy's ranks.

  Haikito's response was immediate and unyielding. "My ability and vision ensure that this is the best course of action." His blue eyes—the same eyes that had somehow triggered something dormant in Rei—flashed with challenge, daring anyone to question his judgment.

  Just as the conference neared its conclusion, the building shook. The camera wobbled, temporarily losing focus. People scattered as security personnel rushed toward an unseen threat, their weapons drawn.

  Haikito left his seat, striding purposefully toward the disturbance. The camera crew followed, capturing his determined approach, his movements fluid and unhurried despite the obvious danger.

  Moments later, he emerged on camera, gripping a notorious figure and dragging him back to the stage. The villain struggled in Haikito's iron grip, acid dripping uselessly from his hands onto the floor where it sizzled harmlessly. Haikito's suit remained immaculate, seemingly untouched by the corrosive substance.

  Hinata pointed at the screen with wide eyes and whispered, "Look, Rei—it's Penguin!"

  Rei leaned forward despite himself, recognition flaring. The villain who had attacked them just a week ago—the one he had defeated—was now in Haikito's grasp, looking as insignificant as a rag doll despite his dangerous abilities.

  Haikito's face was cold and unyielding as he turned his gaze to the camera. "This is for every villain and every would-be villain out there," he intoned, his voice measured and merciless. "If you mess with my city..."

  In one swift, brutal motion, he crushed Penguin's head, killing him instantly. The camera caught the moment in full graphic detail—the sudden collapse, the spray of dark fluid, the immediate cessation of all movement. Some journalists gasped, others turned away. But Haikito's expression never changed, his blue eyes as cold and unreadable as ever.

  The press conference ended abruptly. The feed cut back to a visibly shaken news anchor who struggled to regain her composure. "We... apologize for the graphic nature of that footage," she stammered. "To remind our viewers, Mr. Haikito has declared that the upcoming Academy trials will be more challenging than ever before."

  No one in the library classroom had ever seen such a public display of lethal force before, and the casual brutality left a stunned silence hanging over the room. Rei felt something stir within him—not quite fear, not quite excitement, but something that made his skin prickle with awareness.

  "Holy crap," Josuke finally whispered, breaking the silence. "He just... on live TV..."

  Hinata's face had drained of color. "That was horrible," she murmured, looking away from the screen.

  But Rei couldn't tear his eyes away. Fragments of memories flickered at the edges of his consciousness—vague, unsettling impressions that vanished the moment he tried to focus on them. There was something about Haikito, something that called to something buried deep within Rei himself.

  "Rei, are you okay?" Hinata asked softly, noticing his unusual intensity.

  After a long pause, Rei replied, his voice steady despite the turmoil beneath, "I will enter the Academy and earn my license... so I can meet Mr. Haikito."

  Later that evening, back in his modest apartment, Rei resumed his solitary routine. Methodically, he prepared dinner, each movement precise and emotionless. A small envelope lay on the table as he sat down to eat—a note with no return address. Rei opened it, revealing a brief message written in elegant, flowing script:

  "Remember: your host must be present at the trial. The invitation stands. Your destiny awaits."

  For an instant, Rei's normally deadpan eyes flickered with that haunting blue—the unmistakable sign of something stirring within him—before returning to their usual unyielding black. He muttered under his breath, "I have a headache... I just want this night to end." Then, in his characteristic dry tone, he added with wry humor, "Maybe I should have ordered pizza after all."

  Yet, beneath the veneer of indifference, something new had awakened. In that brief moment, Rei had unlocked his first emotion: a spark of curiosity that promised his destiny might not be as empty as he had always believed.