After finishing his meeting with Ms. Hayakawa, Timeo made his way up the stairs toward the rooftop. His pace was calm but steady—Leo had told him to meet there after class, and despite everything, he hadn't forgotten.
The rooftop was usually quiet. Students rarely went up there, and while access was allowed, it was mostly left alone. No locked doors, no restrictions—just an open space above the school, untouched by the usual rush of high school life.
Timeo reached the top and gripped the handle. As he pushed the door open, sunlight spilled into his eyes, momentarily blinding him. Once his vision adjusted, he saw a lone silhouette leaning casually against the gate railing.
Leo.
The view was striking—sprawling city streets below, rooftops stretching toward the horizon, and just beyond the far end of the campus, the shimmering ocean brushing up against the coast.
"There you are," Leo said, looking over his shoulder with a half-smile. "Thought you weren't gonna show. Guess I was worryin' for nothin', huh? Anyway… glad you came."
He rubbed the back of his head, expression uncharacteristically serious.
"I'm sure you already know what we need to talk about…"
Timeo approached, hands tucked into his pockets, his posture relaxed but attentive. He stopped in front of Leo, close enough to speak low.
"It's about Nishizawa, isn't it?" he asked.
Leo gave a short grunt and nodded, eyes narrowing at the mention of the name. Despite only meeting that morning, there was something in Leo's face that looked familiar now—trust, even if it was rough around the edges.
"Man…" Leo exhaled sharply. "Just this mornin' I was givin' you shit, and now here we are. I gotta admit… you're not like the others. You're real. You're cool."
He paused, scowling slightly as if the next words tasted awkward.
"I just wanna say… thanks. You saved my ass back there. And I—uh—hell, whatever. Just know I mean it. I ain't forgettin' that."
Timeo kept his composure, didn't say a word. Just nodded quietly, eyes on Leo. Even if he didn't show it on the outside, something was settling in his chest. Leo wasn't what everyone said he was. Sure, the guy was rough around the edges, mouth like a storm, but underneath it? He was real. Solid. Honest. The kind of person who didn't hide behind a fake smile.
"Anyway," Leo muttered, shifting his stance, "I still don't know what the hell that was back there. Y'know, in that goddamn cell. One minute we're trapped, the next—boom—some freaky-ass thing's hoverin' behind you. Looked like a damn ghost or somethin'. But it wasn't a dream, right? I didn't just lose my shit?"
Timeo met his gaze and shook his head once—calm, certain. No, it was real.
He turned his eyes toward the fence, the distant ocean gleaming under the daylight. It felt too peaceful compared to everything spinning in their heads.
Leo leaned up beside him, resting his elbow on the railing with a grunt.
"See, that bastard Nishizawa? He's a goddamn problem. Everyone's suckin' up to his whole 'elegant, superstar' bullshit act, but I'm tellin' you, it's fake as hell. Dude's a manipulative piece of shit. Acts all high-class while he's wreckin' lives behind closed doors."
He sneered, clenching his jaw.
"When I first joined track and started takin' shit seriously, he came off like he gave a damn. Told me I had potential, all that fake-ass mentor crap. Then he started showin' his real side—pushing students around, usin' that fancy title of his to get whatever the hell he wanted."
Leo's voice dropped lower, rougher.
"He's beat kids to a pulp just for talkin' back. And what he's done to some of the girls…" He looked away for a second, shaking his head. "Ain't no rumor. I don't care what the school says. That asshole's dirt, and he's hidin' behind this whole 'best school in Japan' reputation while doin' whatever sick shit he wants."
He spit off to the side, fists clenched, expression hard.
"Someone's gotta stop him. One way or another."
Timeo took in everything Leo said without interruption. And truthfully, he didn't need convincing. He had seen Souta's real face for himself—heard his voice behind that mask, felt the pressure in that cell, witnessed what that man was truly capable of. There was no doubt in his mind. Leo wasn't exaggerating. He wasn't lying. Everything he warned about… Timeo had seen it firsthand.
Still, moving forward with this knowledge would be dangerous. Souta's popularity wasn't just local—he was protected by his reputation across Japan. At Aokusa, he was treated like royalty. Not a single person seemed to even consider he might be something other than the perfect teacher.
Leo broke the silence. "I've been thinkin'… Maybe there's a reason why all that crazy shit happened back in the cell. That ghost thing behind you? That wasn't in my head, man. That was real. You think Souta's got somethin' to do with it? Like—he knew what the hell that thing was?"
Timeo didn't answer right away, his thoughts drifting back to the event. The entity that appeared behind him—majestic, mechanical, divine—was unlike anything he'd ever imagined. And the uniform, the blade, the shift in his body... it had felt like more than just power. It had felt like awakening.
"I had a dream," Timeo said suddenly, cutting through the silence.
Leo turned to him fast, eyebrows raised. "A... dream?"
Timeo nodded, gaze still fixed on the ocean beyond the fence. "Back when I was flying to Tsukihara. I had a dream—no, something more. I don't even know if I was asleep, or if my head just... wasn't mine for a while. But I was in a cell, shackled, and there was a man and a woman talking to me. They spoke like they already knew me."
Leo narrowed his eyes. He didn't say anything, but he was clearly locked in now.
"The man said something about an Eidolon Contract," Timeo continued. "That I had signed one. But I never saw a contract. I never agreed to anything. Not on paper. Not out loud."
He paused, eyes narrowing slightly as pieces of memory resurfaced.
"It felt... forced. Like something was already set in motion before I even got here."
Leo let out a low breath, still trying to piece it all together. "So what—you've got some spirit bound to you now? Like a ghost with a grudge? Or... somethin' bigger?"
Timeo didn't reply right away.
Because deep down, he didn't know the answer either. Not yet.
"I guess what you're calling a spirit is actually... an Eidolon. A Phantom," Timeo said calmly. "But I don't really know how to summon it yet. It just... happened. All I can figure is—when I cut my neck, it awakened."
Leo's expression twisted into a mix of discomfort and disbelief. He leaned away slightly, shaking his head.
"C'mon, man. Don't say shit like that so casually," he muttered. "Slicin' your own damn neck to call out some freaky-ass ghost? That's messed up, dude. Watching your blood spill like that and then—boom—there's a Phantom? That's nightmare fuel. I ain't ever gonna unsee that."
During their conversation, Timeo casually reached into his sports bag, meaning to pull out the books he packed earlier. But instead of pages or covers, his fingers brushed against something cold—and sharp. His hand flinched instinctively, and a moment later, he pulled it out with a small wince.
In his grip was a knife.
Leo's reaction was instant.
"Yo—what the hell, dude?!" he barked, backing a step. "Why do you got a goddamn knife in your bag?! You tryna get expelled or arrested or what?! If anyone sees that, they're definitely gonna think you're some kind of psycho! You already got people talkin' shit about your record!"
Even with all his usual bravado, Leo's voice cracked with real tension. He looked between the knife and Timeo, his brows furrowed. For all his tough talk, it was clear—he was genuinely shaken. Seeing a weapon in Timeo's bag made the situation suddenly feel a whole lot heavier.
He ran a hand through his hair and added, lower, "Man… what the hell's goin' on with you?"
"I… didn't put that in there," Timeo muttered, eyes fixed on the blade in his hand.
The knife had a strange design—sleek and curved, its edge almost unnatural in its sharpness. The handle was blackened metal, etched with faint, intricate markings that resembled swirling smoke or claw marks. At the base of the hilt, a small silver emblem shaped like a crescent moon was embedded, almost glowing faintly in the sunlight.
It wasn't just a weapon—it felt symbolic. Dangerous in more ways than one.
Timeo stared at it for a few moments longer, his grip tightening slightly.
It looks like something a reaper would carry… he thought, a strange chill crawling up his spine.
Leo stared at the knife, his expression twisted with unease. He shifted closer, lowering his voice, as if the rooftop wind might carry the wrong words to the wrong ears.
"You think that thing's got somethin' to do with the whole Eidolon Contract crap?" he asked, nodding toward the blade. "I mean—look at it. That ain't some normal-ass kitchen knife. It looks like somethin' straight outta a nightmare."
He hesitated, then added, voice rough but quieter.
"What if… I dunno, what if it's meant for somethin' specific? Like part of the ritual? The self-harm thing. Maybe you're supposed to use it. Maybe that's how you call that Phantom thing out."
Leo leaned back slightly, rubbing the back of his neck, visibly disturbed by what he was even suggesting.
"I mean, you said it yourself—you cut your neck and that thing showed up. What if that knife's part of it? Like… you're meant to do it. Some twisted-ass trigger or contract seal or whatever."
He looked at Timeo seriously now—no sarcasm, no jokes.
"That's not just some weapon, man. That thing was put there. On purpose. Question is... who the hell left it for you?"
To be continued...