Chapter 13 – The Weight of Silence
The morning sun cast long shadows across the blood-stained marble path. The academy grounds were unusually quiet, as if the very air held its breath in the wake of violence. Three bodies lay cold and headless beneath the towering archway. The blood hadn't even dried.
And Asari walked away as if nothing happened.
Aicha sat in silence as he pushed her wheelchair through the back path leading away from the scene. Her small hands gripped the armrests tightly, eyes wide, breath short. The warmth of sunlight did nothing to calm her nerves.
She dared a glance back—but Asari never did.
His steps were steady. Calm. As if the blood soaking his arms and clothes meant nothing. As if the horror hadn't touched him. His eyes were as hollow as ever, but his smile... that was gone now. Replaced by something worse.
Nothing at all.
They didn't speak.
Not even when they passed a group of students who froze at the sight. Whispers erupted behind them.
"That's Asari Le Dante…" "Wasn't he the one from yesterday?" "Why is he covered in—" "Don't look at him! Just walk!"
The silence around him spread like a ripple. Everyone stepped back. Some turned away. Others dared only a single glance.
But Asari didn't stop.
He finally brought Aicha beneath a willow tree near the southern edge of the academy. The leaves danced in the wind above them, the sound of rustling branches filling the silence they shared. He gently let go of her wheelchair and turned toward the tree, standing with his hands in his pockets.
"…They deserved it," he said, voice low.
Aicha looked down at her hands. Her heart was still racing, but she found herself nodding slowly.
"They did," she whispered.
Asari didn't turn to look at her. He simply stared ahead, where the sunlight fell in fractured lines across the grass. The wind tugged gently at his white hair, but his body didn't sway. He stood like a statue. Quiet. Still.
"They'll come for you," Aicha finally said.
"I know."
"They'll try to cover it up."
"I know."
She hesitated before asking the question trembling on her lips.
"Then… why did you do it?"
A beat passed. Then two.
"Because," he replied, "I was getting bored."
Aicha flinched. The same words he used before. But this time, they didn't sound cold. They sounded empty. Tired.
"…I'm sorry," she said softly, surprising herself.
He blinked, slightly turning toward her. "Why?"
"…Because I made you stop. If I hadn't dropped the books, if I hadn't asked you to help…"
"No." He cut her off. "You did nothing wrong."
She looked away. The blood on her skirt was drying. She could still smell the iron in the air.
Asari stepped closer to her, kneeling down to her eye level. His silver eyes met hers—not filled with anger, not filled with rage—but something stranger.
Sorrow?
"I'm not someone good, Aicha," he said. "You should know that now."
"I…" She opened her mouth but nothing came out.
Asari stood again. "I'll take the punishment if it comes."
Just then, heavy footsteps approached.
"Found him!" a voice called out.
Six academy enforcers surrounded the tree, led by the same supervisor from before. Behind him stood Caleus—alive, pale, shaking. His clothes had been changed, but fear clung to him like a second skin.
"That's the one!" Caleus shouted, pointing. "He killed them! Three of them! No weapons, just—just bare hands!"
The enforcers surrounded Asari, weapons drawn but not yet raised. The supervisor stepped forward.
"Cadet Asari Le Dante," he said, voice sharp. "You are to be brought in for questioning by the academy tribunal."
Asari didn't move. "Fine."
Aicha looked between them. "He was protecting me!"
"Miss Aicha, this doesn't concern you," the supervisor replied sternly.
"But they were going to hurt me!" she cried. "They've always harassed me, and no one stopped them before!"
"I said enough." The supervisor's eyes flicked back to Asari. "Move. Now."
Still, Asari didn't flinch. He slowly stepped forward, blood still trailing down his sleeves.
As the enforcers closed in, one of them paused.
"…Sir," the guard whispered to the supervisor. "There's no sign of a blade on the bodies."
The supervisor narrowed his eyes. "What?"
"No weapon. No trace. The heads were severed… with bare hands."
The air grew still again.
Even the wind seemed to falter.
Asari's face remained unreadable. "I warned them."
"You—" Caleus stepped forward, trembling with rage. "You'll pay for this. My father will—"
"I don't care about your father," Asari cut in, voice low and sharp as steel. "Or you."
The tension snapped. One of the guards lunged forward and cuffed his wrists with enchanted restraints that glowed faintly. Asari didn't resist.
The supervisor gave a nod. "Take him."
As they walked away, Aicha called out.
"Asari!"
He stopped.
She opened her mouth… but didn't know what to say.
"…Will I see you again?" she asked.
Asari didn't look back. His answer came only as the wind carried his final words:
"Maybe."
And with that, they vanished around the bend—leaving behind blood, silence, and a broken patch of sunlight beneath a willow tree.