Chapter 11: The House of Shadow's Progress
The House of Shadows
The announcement of Arashi's House spread like wildfire, consuming all other topics of conversation, leaving nothing but ashes of certainty in its wake.
Some called it madness born of desperation.
Some called it arrogance that would soon be punished.
Some called it entertaining—a brief diversion before the inevitable fall.
But everyone agreed—it was unprecedented, a tear in the fabric of the academy's carefully maintained order.
A House with no noble backing. No established reputation.
No history to draw strength from.
Just a single boy with defiant eyes and a dangerous mystery lurking at his side.
And somehow, that was enough to shake the entire academy to its foundations, cracks appearing in what had seemed impenetrable.
The Student Council convened shortly after the Selection, the atmosphere thick with tension that could be cut with a word.
The House Masters were outraged, their carefully arranged plans now scattered like leaves in a gale.
"This is ridiculous!" Renji slammed his hand on the table, the impact sending ripples through cups of untouched tea.
"A no-name forming a House? And the Student Council is just allowing this farce to continue?"
Ayame, seated at the head of the table like a queen among subjects, merely sipped her tea, unruffled by the storm raging before her.
"The rules allow it. Or would you have us break traditions older than your family name?"
"You knew he would do this, didn't you? This has your mark all over it." Accusation dripped from his words like venom.
She smiled, a gesture as revealing as a closed book, but there was no answer forthcoming from her lips.
Renji's fists clenched until knuckles turned white as bone.
"This can't stand. Houses exist to uphold order, to maintain the balance of power that has served us for generations. If we allow nobodies to form their own factions, the entire structure will collapse beneath us."
Ayame set down her cup with deliberate grace, the soft sound somehow silencing all other noise.
"And yet... you're afraid." The observation slid between his ribs like a blade of ice.
His eyes darkened, storm clouds gathering. "Afraid? Of him? A magic-less pretender?"
"Then why are you this angry, Takeda? What is it about his existence that threatens you so?"
Renji had no response that wouldn't reveal too much of what lurked beneath his facade.
Meanwhile, in a quiet courtyard where shadows danced with fading daylight, Arashi stood alone.
Well, almost.
Ayame sat nearby on a stone bench, watching him with the amusement of a cat who had found something interesting to toy with.
"You're handling this well," she said, voice light yet weighted with unspoken meanings. "Most would crumble under half the attention you've drawn."
Arashi didn't reply. He knew better than to trust her kindness or the honey that coated her words.
She set down a folded document sealed with the academy's crest.
"Your House is official now. But you'll need at least three members by the end of the week to maintain its status." Her finger tapped the seal once, twice. "The clock is ticking, Kurobane."
'A recruitment challenge? How predictable.' His thoughts remained hidden behind eyes that revealed nothing.
Ayame's eyes glinted like polished daggers. "You should prepare.
The others will try to crush you before you get the chance to find your footing. They're already moving against you."
Arashi smirked, the expression holding no warmth. "Let them try. I've survived worse storms than their petty winds."
Ayame's smile widened, revealing the edge of teeth too sharp for comfort. "That's what I was hoping you'd say. It would be disappointing if you broke so easily."
As she left, her departure heralded by the soft rustle of her uniform against stone, a new figure approached from the shadows where he had been watching.
A boy with dark blue hair like midnight waves, sharp eyes that missed nothing, and a blade strapped to his back that had tasted the blood of challengers.
Kaito, one of the academy's most feared duelists, whose sword was said to move faster than thought itself.
"I heard you started a House." His voice carried no emotion, yet his eyes burned with something unreadable.
Arashi raised an eyebrow. "And? Have you come to mock or threaten?"
Kaito drew his blade in one fluid motion, the metal singing as it tasted air, pointing it directly at Arashi's heart.
"I'll join—if you can survive a duel with me." Challenge issued, a gauntlet thrown at the feet of a supposed inferior.
Word spread faster than either could have anticipated.
By the time they reached the training grounds, a small crowd had already gathered, hungry for blood and entertainment in equal measure.
"A nobody challenging Kaito?"
"This will be over in seconds."
"I heard he can't even use magic—what chance does he have?"
Arashi stepped into the ring, hands still in his pockets as if he were merely taking a stroll rather than entering mortal combat.
Kaito took a stance, blade gleaming in the afternoon light, reflecting his determination like a mirror.
"Draw your weapon." The command came sharp as the edge he wielded.
Arashi didn't move, didn't even shift his weight. "That won't be necessary for what's about to happen."
Kaito narrowed his eyes, offense flickering across his features. "Arrogant to the end. I'll make this quick, then."
He vanished in a blur of movement that even trained eyes struggled to follow.
A blur of speed—his blade aimed directly at Arashi's throat, seeking to end the duel before it truly began.
Gasps rang out from the crowd, some already turning away from what they expected to be a brutal finish.
But just as the strike was about to land, just as metal should have met flesh—
Kaito's sword halted mid-air, trembling as if it had struck an invisible wall.
The crowd froze, collective breath held in disbelief.
Kaito trembled, every muscle straining as he found himself unable to move his blade forward by even a hair's breadth.
It was as if something was pressing against him, an invisible force that defied explanation.
Something unseen yet undeniably present.
Something terrifying in its silence.
A cold sweat dripped down his forehead, trailing like ice along his skin.
His instincts screamed a warning—danger beyond comprehension.
Arashi stepped forward, voice calm as still water yet somehow filling the entire training ground.
"You're strong, Kaito. Your reputation doesn't lie."
Kaito flinched as if the words themselves carried physical weight.
"But in a real fight..."
Arashi's fingers barely moved, a subtle gesture that might have been missed in a blink.
Kaito's sword—forged by master craftsmen and blessed by shrine maidens—shattered into a thousand fragments that caught the light like falling stars.
The training ground fell silent, shock rendering even the most vocal spectators mute.
Kaito stumbled back, eyes wide with disbelief and something that might have been the first real fear he had ever known.
Arashi turned away, dismissing both opponent and audience. "If you want to join, do so. If not, leave. I have no time for hesitation."
Kaito hesitated for one heartbeat, two—then knelt, head bowed, surrounded by the fragments of his shattered certainty.
"I'll follow you. Wherever this path leads."
Arashi's House now had two members—the mysterious trump card and the fallen blade.
But the academy was watching with eyes that grew colder by the hour.
And they weren't about to let him rise so easily, not when his very existence threatened the order they had maintained for centuries.
Renji smiled darkly as he received new information, whispered by shadows that served him alone.
"If the academy won't get rid of him... I will." The promise hung in the air like the scent before a tempest.
Something dangerous was gathering on the horizon, storm clouds pregnant with violence.
And Arashi welcomed it, eyes turned toward the coming darkness with the calm of one who had been born in its depths.
Let them come.
Let them all come.
The shadows had always been his home.