Yuxin opened her mouth to snarl, to curse, to move—but she had no time. Fuuka pressed the charm lightly against her collarbone. The rune flared, a pulse of pale-blue energy flashing outward in a ripple that sank deep into her skin.
The strength drained from Yuxin's body in an instant. Her arms buckled beneath her, her back hit the floor with a dull thud, and the world swayed violently. Her last coherent thought was an outraged cry—not again, not like this—before blackness swallowed it whole.
She lay still, chest rising and falling in soft rhythm, her expression slack in unconsciousness.
Fuuka pulled the slip of paper back, its glow already fading, and folded it neatly as though she had simply closed a book. She tilted her head slightly, watching the girl she had just silenced, and for once her expression softened into something unreadable. She reached down, almost absentmindedly, and poked Yuxin's cheek with her finger.
"Out like a light. Works every time."
The words were casual, almost playful, yet her tone carried little weight, as if she couldn't be bothered to justify herself fully. She poked her cheek once more, almost idly, as though testing if she'd stir.
Yuki's eyes lingered on the parchment in Fuuka's hand, her brows arching with visible surprise.
"I still can't believe they actually gave you one of those. A charm from the Spiritual Club isn't exactly something they hand out like sweets."
Her voice carried a mix of disbelief and annoyance, like someone who knew full well the rarity of what she had just witnessed.
Fuuka shrugged, tucking the folded slip back into her sleeve with little ceremony, her tone nonchalant, as though she had been asked why the sky was blue.
"The club president's an old acquaintance. A favor here, a favor there… things happen."
Her words were delivered lazily, like an explanation she didn't care enough to polish. No further detail, no context, just a half-answer tossed out into the air.
Yuki rolled her eyes faintly, her arms crossing as she studied Yuxin's unconscious form.
"You make it sound so simple. But fine—whatever gets the job done. At least she won't claw her way further down tonight."
The two of them stood over her in the quiet aftermath, the glow of the setting sun spilling through the paper screens and painting the room in soft orange, Yuxin's sleeping figure at the center of it all. For now, the storm she carried inside had been silenced, but only by force—and the knowledge of that lingered between them like a shadow that would not fade.
The wooden floor creaked softly as Yuki crouched down beside the unconscious Yuxin, her pale hair falling forward like a curtain while her crimson-gray eyes narrowed with visible irritation. The silence between her and Fuuka stretched out too long, and finally, she broke it, her voice carrying that sharp impatience that always cut through stillness.
"So… what now? How the hell are we supposed to drag her out of here without looking like total kidnappers?"
Her tone was dry, annoyed, yet behind it lingered a thread of unease. She stared at Yuxin's slack face, then back to Fuuka, as though waiting for her to offer some miraculous solution. But Fuuka only stood there, her hands folded neatly inside her sleeves, her expression calm as moonlight—too calm for Yuki's taste.
"Yuki," Fuuka finally replied, her voice soft and almost clinical, "are you strong enough to carry her?"
Yuki snapped her head toward her, giving a flat look, lips twitching into the ghost of a smirk.
"Strong enough? Yeah, of course I'm strong enough. But think about it, genius—me hauling her over my shoulder in the middle of the hallways? That looks exactly like what it is. A freaking abduction. Which, by the way, is exactly what we're doing right now."
She huffed, brushing her bangs back, muttering curses under her breath as her eyes flicked toward the door, then back to Yuxin's limp form sprawled out like dead weight. The room seemed smaller with every second of indecision.
Yuki straightened a little, glaring at Fuuka again.
"Fine. What about your clones? You can pop out a bunch of those shadow copies whenever you want, right? Just summon like… I don't know, four or five, strap her to their backs or something. Problem solved."
Fuuka's gaze didn't flicker. She shook her head once, her expression unchanging, her tone even quieter this time, though no less firm.
"That is unnecessary. Wasteful. Maintaining multiple Reflections just to move her it drains stamina. It is bothersome."
Yuki's temper spiked instantly, her voice rising as her hand flew up in exasperation.
"Bothersome? Are you kidding me right now? She's not a damn sack of rice, Fuuka! What do you want me to do then—tie her to a broomstick and parade her out the front door?"
The sound of her raised voice bounced off the wooden walls, but Fuuka remained unmoved, her silence carrying a weight that only infuriated Yuki further. She stepped closer, her boots clicking against the floorboards, her shadow falling over Fuuka like a challenge.
"Don't just stand there like this is some meditation exercise! Think of something. Anything! Because right now you're just staring at me while she's lying there looking like a corpse, and I swear, people are gonna start asking questions if they see us like this."
Fuuka's eyes slid back down to Yuxin's sleeping face, her lashes lowering as if she were weighing a dozen unspoken calculations. Her lips parted slowly, her voice calm, detached, and maddeningly unhurried.
"…We could wait until the halls are empty. After curfew. Then move her. Less chance of witnesses. Less… complication."
Yuki barked out a laugh, sharp and humorless, throwing her hands up.
"Oh, brilliant. Just brilliant. So we're supposed to sit here all night babysitting Sleeping Beauty until the moon's high enough to cover our asses? Fantastic plan. Totally normal. Two girls lurking over an unconscious junior. No one will ever think that's suspicious."
She paced a short line across the room, boots dragging faintly with every step, her irritation radiating like heat. Fuuka, meanwhile, stayed utterly composed, her silence heavier than any argument. The tension between them thickened, stretched taut across the dim-lit chamber, while Yuxin's steady breathing was the only sound grounding the moment.
And in that suffocating pause, it became clear: neither of them had expected the plan to unravel this far. Neither of them had thought about what came after knocking Yuxin out. And now, the weight of that oversight pressed down on them like a shadow neither could shake.