CHAPTER LV
~Laughing in the Abyss~
“Catch me if you can, big guy!” Rin taunted from a dark corner, grinning with mischievous glee. “Your sword’s fast, but my moves are slicker than your pops’ tantrum.”
Kaito clenched his teeth, lunging again, barely catching Rin’s coat-tail as the boy slipped away with a wink.
Meanwhile, Kaito’s father raged like a storm, swinging wide and heavy, roaring every strike with venomous intent toward Mofumi and Saito. She ducked with feline ease, her voice dripping with amused disdain.
“Oh, I see, old man’s got the battle cry on! Cute.” Mofumi flicked tail, eyes half-lidded with boredom. “Is that the best you got?”
Saito’s movements remained smooth and fluid, weaving between attacks with the grace of a seasoned warrior. He smirked slightly, voice low and cold: “In your rage, you forget—we’re not just fighting you. We’re enduring your legacy. Every swing you make only carves your own downfall.”
Kaito’s father growled, blood hot in his veins. “You’re abominations! Every step you take defiles this world!”
“Maybe,” Saito shrugged, “but we’re still here. Still standing, and laughing in your face.”
The mirrored room became a blur of sinuous dodges, flashing steel, and sharp retorts. Reflections fractured beneath lightning-fast movement, doubling and twisting the battle into a maddening dance of blade and trickery.
Rin popped up behind Kaito, tapping him on the shoulder with a grin. “Hey, bro! Watch the flank! Can’t have you looking so serious—you’ll cramp your style.”
Kaito huffed, spinning and parrying one of Rin’s taunts as much as his swift movements.
Mofumi and Saito moved as if waltzing through battle, unhurried yet deadly, countering every furious strike with grace and a touch of amusement.
Kaito’s father’s anger burned hotter with each pass, but every attempt to land a blow was met with calm laughter or a teasing riff from the supernaturals.
The ground was unstable beneath their feet—inky darkness coiling with every movement. The warped light from the countless doors flickered and pulsed as power circled through the abyss.
Kagami sidestepped the first strike, a flash of steel arcing past his collarbone. “Woah, easy, princess,” he called, lips curled in a smug grin as he spun out of Nozomi’s way. “Keep waving those claws at me and I might start thinking you want my attention for something fun.”
Nozomi’s eyes narrowed, blade whistling through the air. “Fun isn’t in my dictionary where traitors are concerned. Die before I carve a lesson into that pretty face.”
Kagami laughed, ducking a sweep of her kick. “Sorry, gorgeous, but I don’t do lessons—I give ’em.” His eyes flicked scarlet in the darkness. “And you’re overdue for detention.”
Haruki moved with the quiet assurance of a born leader, every step measured yet effortless. His gaze, steady and sharp, cut through the haze of battle like a blade forged in stillness. When he spoke, the room seemed to lean in—not out of fear, but out of respect for the weight his words carried.
Haruki stepped forward faster, eyes sharp and voice low but cutting like a blade.
“Cut the crap, Kagami. You don’t get to mock what you don’t understand. Get your head outta your ass before you end up flat on your back.”
Kagami winked, backing into a defensive crouch. “Ooh, the king has spoken. Hey, Shiggy, care to bless this party with one of your sad songs?”
Shingure slid in beside Kagami, spinning out of the way of a lightning-fast thrust from Ren. The air thickened with rain that wasn’t there, the mirrored abyss reflecting ghostly tears. “Ah, the night weeps for what we have become, blades dancing upon rivers of regret. Must splinters of thunder split fragile hearts?”
Ren scoffed, voice flat as a slap. “Talk less. Fight more.”
Nozomi lunged for Shingure, blade singing through the air. “I like him better when he’s not talking.” Her posture was lithe, each movement an elegant, savage ballet.
Shingure’s eyes shone faintly with sadness, his voice a silken wind. “Would you have me silent, fierce rose? My sorrow is only for the loss I sense in you—iron strength bending the petals of your soul.”
Nozomi’s heart skipped a beat—unexpected, wild. For a split second, her guarded intensity softened. Her cheeks flushed red as she glanced at Shingure, feeling something bloom inside her chest—a rush of warmth, a dangerous and beautiful ache that shocked her with its strength.
“Save it. You’re wasting breath here. Go babysit or whatever it is you do.” Haruki spat as he struck Shingure. “Enough of this dance. Stand down! This mess is for real fighters, not sad poets.”
Shingure’s smile was watery as dream. “Let the rain decide, noble lord. Tonight, all swords meet in sorrow’s shadow.” He deftly parried, spiraling out as Ren pressed further.
Ren jerked his chin at Kagami. “You’re not even worth the dirt on my boots.”
Kagami flashed a sharp grin, meeting him blow for blow. “You sure you wanna trade dirt, dude? You look allergic to anything that isn’t artificial.”
Nozomi broke through, blade kissing Kagami’s cheek—an inch shy of blood. “You flirt, you fall,” she threatened.
Kagami licked the spot where the blade grazed. “Wouldn’t be the first time a dangerous woman left a mark—but I always return the favor.”
A short distance away, the tension coiled thick as tar. Himari clung to Ayaka’s arm, trembling, as the three fathers—Haruki’s, Ren’s, and Nozomi’s—towered before them, faces grim and eyes gleaming with suspicion and cold power.
Haruki’s father stepped forward, his voice deep and even, saturated with authority. “Be kind, young ladies. For the truth lies in your hands and to choose to hide it will only eliminate reasons to let you live further. Decide for yourself—to live, or die.” He leveled a stare as severe as a drawn blade. “Now then, answer me. Are you prisoners who were trapped in here? Or are you tethers to these supernaturals? Or are you supernaturals yourselves?”
Ren’s father glared, tension crackling from every line of his face, lips pressed thin. Akihiko knows who they are, Ren’s father thought, so why is he hesitating?
Nozomi’s father, eyes narrowed, was measuring and cold. He spoke only in thought, but the threat was clear. Supernaturals radiate cursed energy, unlike humans. I feel a weird energy from them though. Humans exclude none, but these girls do exclude some. Clearly, they are more than just normal humans.
Himari’s voice wobbled as she whispered to Ayaka, “Don’t tell them anything.”
Ayaka nodded, forcing herself to meet the men’s eyes even as her heart threatened to jump from her chest.
The three men closed in, the air growing heavy, as suspicion and fear tangled with the storm of voices and blades echoing from the fight nearby. Decisions, truths, and lies hung between every shadowed heartbeat—each one twisting the abyss deeper into chaos.
Ayaka’s body trembled as tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks, her voice cracking with emotion as she pleaded, “We… we were trapped here during the storm… We have no idea how or why. Please, don’t hurt us!” A tear fell from Ayaka’s eye and slid down her face. Suddenly, Kagami, connected to her by their tether, felt the wet sensation brush his own cheek. His head snapped sharply toward the source, eyes blazing with furious protectiveness.
Without a word, Kagami’s anger exploded. He drew back his arm and hurled a silver pocket mirror at the group of men. The mirror opened in mid-air, its reflective surface facing Ayaka and Himari, who suddenly found themselves being pulled forward as if caught in a whirlpool of light. They were scooped inside the mirror’s gleaming surface in a flash and, with a boomerang motion, the mirror snapped shut and flew back into Kagami’s hand.
Shingure, watching the move, nodded approvingly, his eyes shimmering with quiet pride.
The single light whirled in a dizzying cyclone, doors blurring by as chaos reigned in the abyss. Steel flashed in Kaito’s grip as he sliced after Rin’s darting reflection, frustration etched across his face.
Kaito, narrowing his eyes:
“Stand still for once, kid! You think this is a joke?”
Rin stuck out his tongue, dodging with a little hop and a mocking bow:
“Oh, I absolutely know it’s a joke—and guess what? I’m the punchline, dude. Got any new moves or are you just cosplaying angry samurai today?”
Kaito’s father’s roar echoed, blunt and savage, as he swung at Saito and Mofumi with raw force:
“Filth like you shouldn’t even be breathing! I’ll end this right here!”
Saito caught the blow on his forearm, barely flinching.
“Hey. Try anger management for once, old man. My ears are ringing from your yelling, not your fighting.”
Mofumi gracefully pivoted aside, tail flicking dismissively as she locked eyes with Saito.
“Should I just wrap this up, or do you want another round of shouting?”
Saito shrugged, deadpan:
“Honestly? Please end it. My headache’s worse than the threat.”
With a silent leap, Mofumi landed hard on her front paws—blue sparks cracking where she touched the stone. Instantly, all the doors around them began to spin wildly, the abyss whirling with their dizzy momentum.
Everyone froze mid-motion, tension crackling as the doors gradually slowed, grinding to a sudden halt. Shards of light reflected fractured faces and confusion.
Saito glanced around, blinking.
“…Whoa. Okay—what just happened?”
Mofumi’s brow furrowed, a rare flicker of frustration marring her calm:
“Tch. That was supposed to do something useful. Guess not.”
For a fleeting moment, the silence was uncanny—no clashing steel, no shouting—just every fighter staring at the doors, waiting for whatever came next.
From high above, where a lone beam of eerie light cut down through the vast dark, the little joker drifted into view — boots dangling, hat tipped low, floating slow and easy like he had all the time in the world. His patchwork coat swayed, and when he grinned, it was all teeth and trouble.
“Well howdy there, partners…” he drawled, voice rolling like dust over a lonely trail. “Word is, some of y’all been thinkin’ you can just hightail it outta my carnival. Hate to shatter your pretty little hopes — but that ain’t happenin’.”
He tapped two fingers to the brim of his hat, leaning forward midair. “Here’s how it’s gonna be. I’m sendin’ all o’ ya back to your school—Kurokawa High…but not in the same ol’ cozy spots you’re used to. No, sir. You’re each gonna get dropped on different floors, like cattle scattered ’cross the range — can’t rely on no partner to hold your hand now.”
The little joker spun lazily and threw out an arm toward three doors behind him, each glowing faint as moonlight, marked with the numbers 1, 2, and 3.
“These here are your gates, folks. Choose one, step on through — and that’s where your little scavenger hunt starts. Solve the riddles in each, and maybe you’ll make it to the next floor without losin’ your hide.” He chuckled, the sound low and dusty. “First few floors, you’ll be wranglin’ in a herd. After that? Every poor soul for themselves. And every next round… well, there’s one special door that just might open straight out o’ this nightmare. Might. If Lady Luck don’t spit in your face.”
He lifted his other hand, revealing a small glowing timer already ticking down from 10. His voice cracked like a whip:
“Ten seconds, cowpokes! Ten seconds to pick your door ‘fore I pick it for ya. Clock’s tickin’, boots better be movin’ — time starts now!”
His laughter rolled through the abyss as everyone scattered toward the glowing doors, shoving, stopping, swapping, unsure whether to change lanes or charge through.
The groups surged forward, splitting and halting, some rushing eagerly while others hesitated, unsure of what awaited beyond each enigmatic door. The eerie carnival games had truly begun.
Chaos erupted. The supernaturals scattered, clutching their weapons tightly as they sprinted toward the maze of doors. Panic drove their footsteps, hearts hammering like tribal drums.
In the scramble, the groups splintered and fled through separate portals, vanishing into shadows behind heavy doors that slammed shut without mercy. The pairs lost to the labyrinth were: 1. Rin, Mofumi, Saito, and Kaito, alongside Kaito’s father—disappearing behind door 2. 2. Nozomi, Haruki, Ren, Ren’s father, and Nozomi’s father—vanishing into door 1. 3. Shingure, Himari, Akihiko (Haruki’s father), Kagami, and Ayaka—slipping away into door 3. The abyss whispered their names, each door a riddle and a threat. And with every slam, the game of the Midnight Carnival deepened—sealed in shadows, running from rage and fate, lost in a maze where every step might be the last.
The tumbling roar of the labyrinth’s doors faded, and Group 1—Rin, Mofumi, Saito, Kaito, and Kaito’s father—spilled out onto cold, stone tiles in a disorienting heap. The jagged door slammed shut behind them, the air humming faintly with leftover magic. A dust-heavy silence fell. Weak, coppery moonlight slanted down through barred basement windows, casting bent shadows on cracked walls lined with ancient, rusted pipes.
Saito was the first on his feet. He brushed himself off, eyes scanning the utilitarian gloom and brittle light with practiced calm. “Looks like we made it,” he muttered, voice low and unimpressed. “Ground floor. Typical.”
Kaito, still catching his breath, blinked hard. “Ground floor?” he repeated, half-incredulous, glancing quickly at his father. His father’s lips curled in scorn.
“Pathetic way to begin,” the older man growled, glaring at the stone walls like they’d personally insulted his honor. “Is this supposed to be a challenge?”
Meanwhile, Rin — still in his small form, body not yet recovered from the fall — pushed himself to his feet, wobbling slightly before steadying. His gaze drifted upward. In the dim light, his pupils narrowed, a faint glint sparking in them as his supernatural sight slid into focus.
The cracked industrial ceiling above seemed to fade away for him, replaced by a ghostly, layered vision — floors stacked one atop the other like spectral blueprints. He traced each with his eyes:one… two… three… four… five in total. Above each stood another, like mirrored worlds balanced in the dark.
A wry breath escaped him.
Floor 5… MP Hall B…, he thought, the flicker in his eyes dimming as he lowered his head. It’s not over. It’s just the beginning of a whole new chapter.
Collecting himself, Rin rocked onto his heels, mischief and resolve mingling on his face. His voice, though small, carried with surprising warmth: “Guess what? Doesn’t matter what floor we landed on—if we don’t move together, we’re toast. Let’s blaze through this trap as a team, make it count!”
Mofumi’s eyes sparkled; he nudged Saito and chirped, “That’s the spirit! Teamwork or bust, yeah?” Saito smirked in agreement, giving a rare nod of approval.
Kaito let out a slow, aggravated breath, jaw tight. “Fine. But don’t expect me to babysit you all the way through.”
Kaito’s father, arms crossed and gaze steely, barked out, “This ‘teamwork’ talk is nonsense. Weakness. If you slow me down, don’t expect mercy.”
To be Continued...
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