Aya Mori was perfectly ordinary.

  She woke at 6:00 a.m., brushed her teeth for two minutes, packed her lunch—rice, a soft-boiled egg, and one strawberry—and walked to school with quiet, even steps. She smiled politely when the crossing guard greeted her. Bowed to teachers. Laughed softly at her classmates’ jokes.

  Everyone liked Aya Mori.

  Or rather—everyone forgot her as soon as she walked away.

  She was normal.

  Sweet. Quiet. Invisible.

  That was the point.

  The day passed like any other.

  Math quiz. Chemistry lab.

  Lunch under the sakura tree.

  A friend named Mina chattered about her boyfriend.

  “He got a nosebleed in gym. It was, like, gushing everywhere.”

  Aya blinked. Her lips parted slightly.

  “…Really?” she asked, a little too softly.

  “Yeah! It was sooo gross.”

  Aya tilted her head. A warm flutter stirred in her belly.

  Blood. Gushing.

  She smiled, but no one noticed the way her fingers curled.

  After school, Aya helped clean the classroom. Took the trash out. Walked home with her hands in her pockets and her thoughts far away.

  At 6:42 p.m., as the sky turned lavender, her phone buzzed.

  No Caller ID

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  1 New Message:

  “Target: Emma Rin Aster. Age 17. Home alone tonight. Terminate. Clean.”

  Aya grinned.

  A slow, crooked grin that never reached her eyes.

  “Yessss… finally.”

  She twirled once in the hallway, like a girl who’d just been asked to prom.

  “I was getting bored.”

  Back in her room, she sat on her bed, legs swinging, and unzipped the black duffel from beneath the floorboard. Razor? Cleaned. Gloves? Checked. Smell-proof disposal bags? Folded perfectly.

  Her fingers trembled with delight as she pressed the razor to her cheek—just for a second.

  “Emma Rin Aster,” she whispered, testing the name on her tongue like candy. “Let’s meet.”

  She arrived at 1:06 a.m.

  Emma’s house was lovely—white walls, pink curtains, a hanging flower basket on the porch.

  Aya breathed in deep. Her body tingled with anticipation.

  “Home alone. Just for me.”

  She always got excited when it was a solo kill.

  The window unlocked with ease.

  She slipped inside without a sound, crawling low, eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

  Emma slept with her back to the door.

  Aya climbed up on the bed like a shadow, mounted her prey with soft precision.

  Then the razor came out.

  “Wake up, sweetheart,” Aya whispered, voice trembling with pleasure. “I want to see your eyes when they realize what I am.”

  Emma stirred.

  Aya giggled.

  “Hi there.”

  The moment Emma screamed—

  Aya moaned.

  A twisted, breathy sound, like a gasp and a giggle had a baby.

  The razor sang its first note across Emma’s neck.

  “There it is…” Aya breathed, watching the crimson spill.

  “That colour… That perfect colour of crimson…”

  Her breathing quickened.

  Small cuts. Precise slices. She watched each one bloom.

  Blood ran over her fingers. Aya shivered. Her pupils dilated. She let out another trembling sigh and whispered,

  “You’re so soft inside, Emma… Do you feel it? Do you feel how much I love this?”

  She wasn’t just killing.

  She was feasting on every second of it.

  By 3:00 a.m., Emma was nothing but ash and bone.

  Aya stood in front of the fire, swaying slowly as the flames licked higher. Her fingers traced her blood-spattered thighs.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “You were beautiful.”

  By sunrise, the bones had cooled.

  She ground them into dust, humming softly, and scattered them beneath her tulips.

  7:51 a.m.

  Normal school morning. Birds chirping. Aya’s hair braided neatly. Uniform crisp.

  The announcement crackled overhead.

  “Please welcome our new transfer student: Luna Asahina.”

  Aya looked up from her desk.

  And there she was.

  Soft brown hair. Nervous eyes. A pink lunchbox in her hands.

  She smiled.

  Aya blinked.

  Her heart did something it had never done before.

  It skipped