The Black Fox's Shadow Dance
The last days of September had arrived, creeping quietly toward the end of the month.
The brutal summer heat that had tormented people was gradually losing its bite, and the cool touch of autumn was finally making its presence felt.
After the final lesson of the day—the one on ancient demon history—six o’clock rolled around.
Kawada Arena, the half-Japanese half-Korean girl with water-like black hair and golden eyes the color of barley fields, moved like lightning the moment class ended. She snatched up her bag, slinging it over her shoulder with practiced ease.
Ever since the tournament, she had been vanishing somewhere the instant lessons finished, leaving her friends buzzing with questions.
Right now, the destination she was rushing toward faster than anyone else could follow—the one place she always disappeared to the second the bell rang—was none other than the tail end of Jeon Chayeon.
“Damn it, almost lost her again!”
Arena kept pace behind Chayeon, eyes locked on that petite figure’s fluttering hair. At 159 centimeters tall and built like a delicate doll, Chayeon moved with an absurd speed that made even Arena’s long legs strain to keep up. She followed warily, half chasing, half trying not to get too close.
Ever since that humiliating defeat in the tournament, Arena had taken every chance to corner Chayeon and issue another challenge.
“Don’t underestimate me! Today is the day I finally break you!”
At first Chayeon had accepted the gauntlets without hesitation. That cocky grin on her face had actually looked… almost pleased.
The results, however, had been devastating. Arena’s sword had never once come close to even brushing Chayeon’s fluff.
And yet the gap kept widening. Chayeon’s skill was climbing steadily, relentlessly.
“Impossible… she’s actually growing stronger in such a short time?”
Arena had been stunned at first, but logic quickly kicked in. No one could improve that fast through talent alone. She had ruled it out. The only explanation was that Chayeon was still holding back.
The more she thought about it, the more ridiculous it sounded. Someone with that kind of hidden power pretending to be average—well, Chayeon had never actually lied to her. But that didn’t stop the frustration.
Soon enough, Chayeon started dodging Arena on sight. The moment the white witch’s pointed hat and simple dress appeared in her peripheral vision, she turned and bolted. It had become the new first priority.
At first Arena had tried following blindly, convinced that tailing her would reveal the secret behind the growth. But she quickly realized wasting time chasing after Chayeon was like trying to crack an egg with a rock. If you knew yourself well, you only needed to study your enemy.
She knew her own limits. All that was left was to study Chayeon’s weaknesses.
So for the last few days, Arena had been shadowing Chayeon every morning and night with the kind of dedication most people reserve for their hobbies.
But the longer she watched, the more baffled she became.
She wakes up, goes for a jog, grabs lunch alone at the academy cafeteria, attends classes, heads straight back to the dorm, then sneaks out at night for a quick run before locking herself in again until tomorrow. When does she even practice her swordsmanship? It’s never visible!
Her daily routine was painfully predictable: outside for exercise whenever possible, otherwise buried in her room.
“She’s more like a machine than a person. Everything lines up so perfectly—time, meals, schedule. Is she even human? No friends? No social life?”
If that was the case, tailing her was pointless. There was no way the time she spent locked in her room was actually sword practice.
She had learned nothing useful. Not a single weakness. Just the knowledge that Chayeon lived like a robot.
“Maybe I should just give up,” Arena muttered, growing more tired with every passing day.
She had nothing to gain and only wasted time. Especially since she knew today’s outcome would be the same as always: grab lunch at the student cafeteria, then head back to the dorm alone.
Just as she was about to turn around and give up, Chayeon took a sudden turn onto a completely different path.
Where is she going? Not toward the cafeteria…
This was brand new. Arena’s curiosity ignited. She tucked herself into the shadows and followed.
Under the clock tower at the main gate, the school’s famous landmark, Jeong Seohee was already waiting. She had arrived before Chayeon, dressed in a wine-red blouse and a short black skirt that hugged her figure like it had been tailored for her.
“Ah, perfect timing. You’re early, Professor Seohee,” Chayeon said, tilting her head slightly as she stopped in front of her mentor.
Seohee’s smile bloomed like the warmest spring sun, teeth flashing brightly. “Of course. We can’t have my favorite student waiting, now can we~?”
She leaned in closer, reaching out to wrap Chayeon in a hug. Chayeon stepped back instantly, cheeks flushing.
“I only came to buy the essentials. I’ll take these and be on my way.”
“Come on, now. Stay for a little longer tonight. Just the two of us, okay?”
“I can’t. I really need to go.”
Seohee’s face fell, but she didn’t let go easily. “Sorry, sorry, I was just kidding! I’ll only buy the clothes you actually need. One outfit only.”
Chayeon actually wanted to argue, but she knew Seohee would never let her leave empty-handed. So she sighed and turned back.
“You really don’t have to. I’m good with what I already have.”
“Nonsense. Last time I only managed four pieces because I was rushed. One of them is your gym clothes. You’re a cute girl now—time to dress the part!”
The words “cute girl” hit Chayeon like a cold slap. Her face twisted into something between disgust and disbelief.
I have zero intention of living as a girl for even one more second. Not a single second.
“When you say you’ll buy them, I’ll accept them. It’s not like I get new ones every day.”
“…Fine.”
In truth, Chayeon had already decided that five outfits was the absolute minimum. Two days between washes was her limit.
The two of them left the main building and headed straight for the shopping district. Jindal Academy’s private commercial zone was huge enough that it felt like its own autonomous city. Most things could be bought on campus without ever leaving.
Chayeon had gone shopping with Seohee once before, right after enrolling. Today’s trip was basically the same.
She had no hobbies outside of training, so even if she needed supplies, she wouldn’t buy much beyond clothes.
She had glanced at the fancy athletic gear in the display windows, but her current fragile strength was barely enough for basic movement. Extra equipment was unnecessary.
She had brought enough money to cover the basics, but she had no real income. Once she reached higher grades, she would be doing odd jobs—tasks involving spirits and demons—and getting paid. But for first-year Chayeon, that chapter hadn’t started yet.
Most of her daily expenses were quietly covered by Seohee. It was grateful, but also a little embarrassing. She wasn’t sure why her mentor kept treating her like this.
The shop was specialized in women’s clothing. The clerk greeted them with a bright, clear voice.
Seohee moved confidently toward the racks, and Chayeon followed, feeling out of place.
“How about this one, Chayeon-ah? It suits you so well.”
Seohee pulled out a white A-line dress with a high collar and flowing sleeves, holding it up for her to see.
“No.”
Chayeon rejected it without hesitation.
“Why not— it’s pretty!”
Seohee pouted, but Chayeon’s expression didn’t change. One skirt from her uniform was already her limit when it came to skirts.
Seeing that Chayeon had no intention of softening, Seohee hung the dress back up and grabbed a different pair of tops and bottoms.
“What about this?”
A light pink striped long-sleeve top and a white midi skirt. Again, a skirt.
“No.”
“This one?”
“No.”
“Oh, this one is adorable!”
“That one’s no good too.”
One by one, everything was rejected. Seohee’s lips pushed out in a dramatic pout.
“You’re more picky than I thought. You hate everything I pick.”
“You’re the one who keeps bringing me skirts.”
The outfits she had chosen were all far too feminine for Chayeon’s taste.
“Your lines are so beautiful, a skirt would suit you perfectly.”
“Professor Seohee, please just forget that I’m a guy for five minutes.”
When Chayeon made it clear she would reject anything, Seohee finally gave up on her own tastes and started looking for something more neutral.
She returned with a unisex-style top and pants, though her eyes kept drifting back to the dresses she had first picked.
“How about this? It looks pretty normal.”
“Yeah… sure. Looks fine.”
She changed into it and stepped in front of the mirror. It actually fit surprisingly well.
“I thought it would look plain, but… it looks like it was made for you.”
“Wow. Your sense of style is really good, Professor.”
“Of course! You think I don’t know what I’m wearing?”
Seohee struck a pose with obvious pride. Chayeon, who had been quietly judging the outfit, felt a rare flicker of emotion. It looked great on her, but it wasn’t because Seohee had great fashion sense—it was because she herself was beautiful.
In contrast, the pieces Chayeon had picked were perfectly tailored to her frame.
Maybe she’s just bad at choosing clothes for other people?
She swallowed the thought. Even if that were true, Chayeon’s body was perfect anyway. The choice wouldn’t have mattered.
Seeing that Chayeon liked the outfit, Seohee’s mood lifted instantly. She started humming as she walked to the checkout counter.
Chayeon had always thought her mentor was sophisticated and mysterious. But right now, watching her like this, she realized Seohee was nothing but a big kid.
As they stepped out of the store, the sun had already dipped low in the sky. September’s end meant the sunset had come earlier than ever.
“Chayeon-ah, you didn’t eat dinner, right? Let’s grab sushi before we go back.”
Seohee pointed toward a nearby sushi place. Chayeon’s stomach rumbled at the word, and she nodded without hesitation.
After the meal, Chayeon tried to leave again. But Seohee stopped her once more.
“Chayeon-ah, aren’t you sorry? Let’s eat cake at the academy café and go.”
“…I really want to go home.”
It was already dark. The same routine was hard to follow today, but she wanted to get back and at least do some basic training. Cake was out of the question anyway—it was nothing but a sugar bomb.
“Just once! Just let me keep you company for today.”
Seohee grabbed her hand without warning and stared at her with pleading eyes, face so close that their breaths mingled.
“Ah… fine. Just… let go…”
Chayeon’s face burned red. She stammered, voice cracking. Seohee’s eyes sparkled as she tried to pull her into another hug, only to be shrugged off.
Oh… this is nice.
I’m going to kill her. I swear.
That little black cat of a familiar that only appeared when things got awkward was truly the worst.