Zoro walked alone down the hallway of an empty high school.
In the corridors of this ordinary high school, not a teacher or student was in sight. It was to be expected. Today was Sunday, and access was restricted under the pretext of interior construction, just in case someone might come.
Step, step.
Zoro walked past the women's restroom.
Creak.
A small, blurry pair of lips appeared in the air near the women's restroom. It quietly made a sound.
[Did you hear?]
Pop. The air split again, revealing another translucent mouth, this time inside a classroom near the window.
[Did you hear?]
[Did you hear—?]
Did you hear? Did you hear.
As the mouths exchanged words, the lips multiplied. Above desks, in front of lockers, near the teacher's desk.
Whisper.
Whisper, whisper.
Whisper, whisper, whisper, whisper.
Whisper, whisper, whisper, whisper, whisper, whisper, whisper, whisper.
Numerous mouths moved in unison, producing an indecipherable sound. As the whispering continued, the lips proliferated endlessly.
Initially, it was nearly indistinguishable noise, but as more mouths appeared, they began to produce clearer voices.
A mouth spoke softly behind Zoro's back.
[Why. Like that?]
[What's. Happening?]
[Who?]
[Ah. That one.]
[It makes. Sense. That one.]
[It was the same. Before.]
[Now that you mention it.]
[Now that you mention it.]
[Now that you mention it.]
Zoro turned around. In that moment, all those numerous mouths vanished as if they had never existed.
Whisper, whisper.
Only vague, indistinct sounds brushed past his ears.
"..."
Zoro looked at the space where the mouths had been moments before. As he turned back, the mouths timidly reappeared in the void and resumed their conversation.
[So annoying.]
[A nuisance.]
[Why do I have to be in the same class as him?]
[It'll be heard.]
[Let it be heard.]
[That's the only way to fix it.]
[He deserves to be embarrassed.]
[Don't go near him.]
[Don't talk to him.]
[Ignore him.]
The more they talked, the more the mouths multiplied. One became two, two became four, four became eight, eight became sixteen.
With each sound that came from the mouths, their color became more vividly red, resembling that of living humans, and they gained a clearer form.
Soon, the hallway was completely filled with mouths. Hundreds, thousands of them clustered together, swarming like insects in a red mass, and Zoro found himself surrounded.
Zoro, unable to see spirits, couldn't see them, but he could hear them.
Whisper, whisper, whisper, whisper.
Like the wings of night insects rubbing against each other, producing small and dirty noises.
'Not yet.'
He still needed to wait.
Until they gained a complete physical form.
Screeeeeech.
The sound was like a scream or the scraping of a chalkboard, and from Zoro's right ear, a trickle of blood ran down. His ears felt blocked, but Zoro remained motionless.
Drip.
One of the many mouths split open, spilling black blood onto the floor. As a single drop of ink-black blood hit the ground, Zoro's eyes gleamed with recognition.
Now was the time.
He lowered his hand that had been covering his ear and grasped the handle of his sword, Wado Ichimonji. Despite the blood trickling from his ear due to the tearing noise, Zoro unsheathed his sword.
Ssslice.
Then, the largest and most vivid mouth whispered.
"Still as weak as ever, Zoro."
In a voice identical to that of a childhood friend who had shared Zoro's early years.
The ripple effect occurs. Like throwing a stone into water, his mind wavers. Confusion, humiliation, and anger shook Zoro's mind.
Just like when he first heard those words.
The largest mouth opened wide right under Zoro's feet. The enormous mouth seemed ready to swallow him whole and began to mutter something.
"—Insignificant."
Kwoong!
Seeing Zoro's fiery red gaze, the numerous mouths froze in place, unable to make a sound. They attempted to vanish into the void again but remained rigid, unable to move.
With eyes shimmering red, Zoro coldly gazed at the spot where the numerous mouths gathered. He could distinctly sense the shape of the lips through his Observation Haki.
'If any of these make a sound, their numbers increase.'
If he aimed for them when there were only a few, their form would change into something that couldn't be killed by cutting.
Therefore, he had to deliberately increase their numbers, forcing them to take a physical form as mouths.
Silencing them first, then cutting them all at once was necessary.
Like now.
Gripping Wado Ichimonji with both hands, Zoro, with his menacing grey eyes lit, announced,
"One Sword Style,"
Judgment.
Shiiing!
His pitch-black blade swung down in a judging slash.
Like being struck by lightning, the vision of the spirits split in two. The mouths attempted to speak but were cleaved in half vertically and fell apart.
Thunk, thunk, thunk.
Every single mouth-shaped spirit was cut, turning into black ash and disappearing.
Slursh.
Zoro sheathed his sword again. Whether it was a curse left by the purification or a characteristic of the spell itself, the negative emotions that had surfaced earlier did not dissipate.
With a forced surge of irritation, a single tear, almost physiological, dropped. Zoro calmly wiped away the tear.
It was like stepping into a hot spring on a cold winter day. His heart was indifferent, almost cold, yet it seethed with emotions felt long ago towards Kuina—negative ones like anger, humiliation, and confusion.
'It's so transparent.'
It wasn't that all emotions felt towards Kuina were negative, but that only those were selectively remembered was too obvious. Zoro sneered at the pettiness of the spirit.
'Maybe losing composure supposedly enhances one's power.'
Or perhaps it was just in the nature of the spirit to mess with humans.
From either perspective, it was something that should not have happened. Zoro's training was not so superficial that he would succumb to outdated anger.
It wasn't only Kuina who had turned Zoro's insides with words, but considering that only Kuina's words come to mind, it seems that the spirit was born from the negative emotions in their friendship.
"A spirit that turns others' insides with words."
There was no fun in fighting, and it was annoying. Zoro stopped his thoughts and looked around.
"So where do we go now?"
Where had Utahime gone? While thinking, he heard her shouting from a distance.
"Zoro! Zorooooo! Where are you! Answer meeee!"
Utahime appeared at the stairs and was delighted to see Zoro.
"Zoro!"
Utahime hurried over and hesitated as she looked back and forth between a red-mouthed spirit disintegrating into black ash and Zoro's face, which was calmly shedding tears.
"Don't be sad. It doesn't hurt. It's because of the ritual."
Before Utahime could misunderstand, Zoro quickly wiped his tears with his sleeve and explained.
"Was there a spirit?"
"Yeah."
"What grade?"
"I don't know."
The spirit wasn't very powerful in itself. It was just difficult to exorcise.
"Are you really okay?"
"Of course."
Looking at Zoro's face, which seemed more irritated than sad, Utahime felt a bit relieved. Still worried, she checked his condition and noticed bloodstains on his ear.
"Wait, you're hurt!"
Utahime exclaimed loudly in surprise, but then closed her mouth. Zoro remained calm.
"Oh, right?"
It was a bit muffled, but he could still hear well enough. Utahime gasped and stopped Zoro's hand as he casually tried to touch his ear.
"Not 'oh, right.' Are you really not in pain?"
"Not much."
Utahime, who had come close, carefully wiped the blood that had trickled to Zoro's ear with her sleeve. Zoro, noticing Utahime's white clothes, nonchalantly said,
"Blood doesn't come out of white clothes easily."
"Is that what's important?"
"It's important. It's a hassle to wash."
When he was a bounty hunter and couldn't find a clothes shop, Zoro had the experience of scrubbing a blood-stained white shirt in a stream, so he seriously advised her.
Utahime looked at Zoro with astonishment, then whispered softly so as not to strain his ear.
"Don't worry. We can just buy a new one."
"Ah."
In the 3D industry, work-life balance is ruined, the management is terrible, and being a shaman is a job you honestly can't even talk about what you do.
But there was one good thing, and that was a generous salary. The base monthly wage was high, and there was a bonus for each high-grade spirit subdued, so the income was substantial.
After Utahime had wiped off all the blood, she straightened up from her crouched position and stood up.
"Let's go show Shoko quickly."
"For just this little injury?"
"You had blood coming from your ear, didn't you? Stop complaining and let's go."
Utahime was holding Zoro's hand when she suddenly asked.
"But why were you here? The mission location is the middle school next door."
"...? Wasn't this the middle school?"
"...."
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