What I thought was going to be progress turned out to be a ruse. I sneered at the cardboard katana in my hand, tapping it on the ground a few times. Not too hard, however, or I could break the tip. I rolled my eyes at the weapon and glared at Shura, who had a matching katana poised. "Why the hell did you even give me the Kurikara back if you were just going to rip it away when we got here?"

She shrugged, dropping her stance and tossing the cardboard sword in the air, letting it twirl a few times before catching it. "I didn't give you the sword, I was just letting you hold it for a bit. You got hyped for training, which was my intention." She pointed her practice sword at me, an incredulous look in her eyes. "Did you really think I'd give it back to you so easily? Are you dense?"

I groaned, "you're evil, you know that? Have you ever been nice to anyone?" I shook my head and leaned against a nearby wall. On the other side of the room, my academy jacket and tie were hung up nicely. It became typical for me to undo the top two buttons of my dress shirt during these lessons, too. Shura told me she'd tolerate it for now, but that I'd have to learn how to move around in an Exorcist jacket at some point. I had to scoff at the thought, not having a single viable reason why the Exorcists decided to work in something so immobilizing.

Shura seemed to ponder my words, a thoughtful look crossing her face. I gawked at her, "You actually have to think about it??"

She rolled her eyes at me, but she sat for a few more minutes and ended up shrugging. "We all have a weakness that we'd rather not show. Mine may be kindness, who knows?" I scoffed and she tossed the cardboard katana in the air again. Our lessons together could be spar after spar, or we'd spend most of our time bickering. I had a feeling today's would be filled with the latter.

"That's a shitty weakness, and you know it." I couldn't help the chuckles that escaped me at the thought of Shura being nice.

She glared at me, "Pray tell, what is a good weakness, Einstein? Kryptonite?" She scoffed, "kindness can become a weakness when someone else takes advantage of it." My chuckles died, my mood turning somber. Pink eyes assessed mine, "what about you, kid? What's your weakness?"

I blanched, "how the hell am I supposed to know? I'm only fifteen."

Shura shook her head, her long hair falling over her shoulders. She tossed the sword around a few more times, her lips forming a thin line. "I knew my weakness far earlier than that," she sighed and stopped toying with the sword. When she looked at me next, her gaze was stony. "To me, it's obvious what your weakness is."

I hummed, and echoed her words from earlier, "Pray tell."

"It's that little brother of yours." She took a few steps forward, closing the distance between us. "You'd do anything for that brat, wouldn't you?" Her eyes flashed down, "Tell me, what happened to your hand?"

I flinched, but I figured she'd ask at some point. "I cut myself while doing the dishes. That's all, everyone is overreacting."

Her expression shifted, and I saw anger flash in her pink eyes. "Bullshit. Yukio shot you yesterday because you lost your cool."

Groaning, I shoved myself off the wall, readjusting the toy sword in my grip before giving her a glare. "How would you know? You weren't there. And I had control of myself, but Suguro had it coming to him." My resolve faltered, however, as I remembered my bloodlust during the fiasco. I sighed, running my free hand through my hair. "If you were there, you would've understood. He was an ass, saying horrible things about me. I got pissed, you're right. But anyone else would've reacted the same."

"Oh, please!" She snapped. "First of all, that Chicken isn't as good at lying as you are, I shook the answer out of him after our meeting the other night. He looked lost the entire time." She took another step forward, invading my personal space. I felt my skin prickle at her proximity and I took a step back, my spine hitting the wall behind me. She took the invitation to close the distance between us, her eyes swirling with indignation. "And despite how hard you try, RIn, you will never be human. So, you're incorrect. No one else would've reacted the same way you did. No one else would explode into a ball of flames and try to attack a classmate." I tried to swallow the lump that was forming in my throat. "But you're correct on one thing. I wasn't there. The only evidence I have is what another Exorcist told me. And no matter how you explain yourself, an Exorcist's testimony will hold more weight. You're the son of Satan, and history is what we see you recreating."

This was a truth I'd been told multiple times, but hearing it still hurt the same. I closed my eyes and tried to push my dejected thoughts down, trying to bottle and shove them into some unseen corner of my psyche.

"Your own brother shot you because you managed to convince him that you were unraveling, and I believe him. You were going to hurt someone, weren't you?" She waited patiently for my answer, and I felt tears prickle in my eyes. I pitied myself, but I was more frustrated than anything. No one gave me a chance to explain myself. However, it dawned on me that even my explanation confirmed her belief. With a sigh, I nodded my head. "I figured, but I'm going to assume your intentions were not murder." She hummed, thoughtfully. "Probably more along the lines of battery."

"What's your point, Shura?"

"You got the short end of the stick, kid. You're an anomaly, a dangerous one at that. We view you as a ticking bomb. Because all it will take is one wrong situation and you'll blow."

My anger spiked at her words, and a growl ripped through my throat. "What the fuck do you mean by the short end of the stick? So I'm a kid with fucked up superpowers, I still have my humanity."

There was a clatter as she threw her katana to the side, and my vision swam as she gripped my collar and thrust me up against the wall. "Get the fuck over yourself, Okumura! You are not human. You do not have superpowers. You've got the blood of Gehenna's reigning king stuck inside the fragile body of a teenage boy. You're unbalanced, extremely overpowered, and a danger to humanity. So when you get angry, everyone else gets wary! The sooner you get that embedded into your thick skull, the better!" Her breath came out uneven and shallow, ferocity flashing deep within her eyes, and I swore I saw hatred mixed in as well.

I couldn't seem to process the words that fell from her mouth, but I did know that she was wrong, in almost every aspect. I shoved her, and she loosened her grip, my feet returning to the floor. I shot her daggers, "You are right about some things, but you keep making one mistake in your argument. I am human. I spent fifteen fucking years as a human child, don't you dare take that title away from me! The old man didn't raise me as the spawn of Satan, so I refuse to label myself as anything of such." My words were laced with venom, and I was panting, my emotions getting the better of me again. "I am human," I repeated, but it was more to convince myself than her.

A few moments of silence passed between us, the only noise the sound of my ragged breathing. She took a few steps back and slowly, she shook her head. When she spoke, her tone was calm, but the words were cruel, hooking into my heart. "You were human, kid. The moment you unsheathed that Kurikara, the person you were died. In his place is the creature you are now. A dangerous child, who, if he were to throw a tantrum, could wipe out half a town in under five minutes. The human that you speak of could never have done such things. That human would have gone on to live a normal life; met a woman, had children, and most likely died of old age. You will never experience those things now. Instead, you will become a weapon of the Grigori, and live in True Cross with constant supervision, like a prisoner, until the day you meet an untimely death. In a battle or at the hands of an Exorcist, who knows? That is not a life a human would live, that is why you aren't one."

I'd remained silent during her lecture, a horrid feeling blossoming in my stomach and creeping up to grip my diaphragm. My knees felt weak and my mouth felt dry. I licked my lips to try to mitigate it. "T-Then what am I?"

"You aren't a demon, either, if that's what you wanted to know." My breath left my lungs and my body slumped in relief, those words were all I wanted to hear. "If you classified as a demon, an Exorcist would have killed you by now. From what I know, you don't classify as anything. You fit the qualifications for nothing."

Nothing?

I blinked away my surprise and gazed at my fire-haired teacher. Her words have agonized me. They hurt far worse than Suguro's hopeful words that I'd kill myself. But I couldn't bring myself to ask her to stop. I wanted to know. I needed to know how I was viewed in this wretched world.

She continued, "To the Grigori, you don't belong to a group, you are a lone category. You have no name, when spoken of, you are simply referred to as 'It.' That is what you are. That is all I know."

One of my knees gave out and I stumbled, landing on my hands. My vision blurred and I curled my hands into fists, feeling my tears trail to the tip of my nose before falling to the floor below. It. The horrid feeling that clawed in my chest began to radiate throughout the rest of my body. It nestled itself inside my bones, vibrating in my joints as waves of despair washed over me. I drew in a breath and shoved myself into a sitting position, "this is no way to live, why are you even keeping me here?"

I saw my mentor shrug, and I tried to read her expression, but she was impassive. "You live for the Grigori now, to maintain yourself and protect others. It's as simple as that."

"That doesn't sound like a good life to me, I don't want this, let me end this. From what you've said, humanity would be better off without me." I heard my voice crack and the sound grated on my nerves. Pathetic. "Kill me, Shura. Tell the others I got out of control, that you acted in self-defense. It would be justifiable. No one would think twice, and you'd be doing a favor to humanity."

The air stilled, my words like a heavy blanket in the room. I closed my eyes, reigning in my perturbed emotions. Suddenly, I heard her approach me and my eyes shot open, half expecting to see her; sword in hand, aiming for my neck.

Pain radiated in my face, but not due to a blade. She'd slapped me so hard it had thrown me off balance. I groaned and rubbed my sore cheek, my eyes moving up to spot a seething woman. Her demeanor had changed, no longer filled with hatred, but it held disapproval. "You and you're damn martyr complex, kid. Knock it off! If you're going to die, it's gonna be for a good reason, not some selfish desire. You don't want to live for the sake of being a weapon, I don't blame you. So live the same life for a different purpose." The same life, but for a different reason? Live my life for the Grigori? "Tell me, brat, what has been your purpose up until now?" She folded her arms over her chest, waiting.

My mouth dropped open, and I tried to speak, but only a few squeaks escaped. What have I been living for?

"How about that brother of yours? As I said, that chicken is your ultimate weakness, isn't he? Or that short, blonde girl? You seem fond of her. Or that trio of losers? The bald one and the hair-dyed punks? Weren't they your friends?"

My face fell, my features turning stony before I could find my voice. "I don't have any friends, and I lost my brother when he shot me. They don't care about me, they never have."

Shura yawned, "but you care about them, obviously. You deal with their shit on a daily basis because you still want to protect them, don'tcha? Make that your purpose in life, keep them safe. Do whatever possible to make this world a world worth living in for them."

I grimaced at the thought. Why should I care about people who would gladly shove me in front of a moving train? But I pondered her words a little longer. I didn't necessarily care for them, but I still wanted them to live happy lives. And if bringing them peace was the only good thing I could accomplish in this life, I'd grip onto it like a lifeline. My mentor saw my resolve solidify and she turned on her heels. "Alright, quit the emo act, we've wasted enough time bickering. Get up, grab your weapon, and fight me."

I complied, following after my teacher. The despair flowing through my body was still present but dampened. I took a deep breath, my life was going to change, a lot, so I'd better learn how to cope.