I'm forced to keep the strange knife with me at all times. Imagine the questions I'll be asked if someone sees me with it. What they think I hurt somebody? What if they think I killed somebody? I would be arrested immediately.

Going to prison before even graduating high school? It was something that made me shudder just thinking about it.

I don't know anything about searching for fingerprints so I can't exactly pinpoint who touched the knife before I did. Neither do I know anything about blood types so I can't pinpoint whose blood was stained on it either.

My imagination goes wild for a minute, thinking that if the knife belonged to the Occult Club, then it had to be one of them who used it beforehand. It was, after all, left on the floor in their room.

No one really notices the students who are in the Occult Club, and the only one whose name I can remember is Oka Ruto, the founder and president. Thinking that she, of all people, actually hurt someone was practically preposterous.

Now that I think about it, I doubt any of them has ever hurt a fly. Sure, they were deeply fascinated with witchcraft and demonic things, but them performing a blood sacrifice seems to be going a bit far. They all were cowards compared to everyone else in school, ironic considering that they insist on delving into such horrific things.

Perhaps all they wanted was something that could protect them from the actual world surrounding them. It was almost pitiful.

They weren't the ones who put the blood on the knife. I don't think any of them are that desperate to prove demons are real, to end up bringing weapons to school and risk expulsion by harming someone.

But whoever once wielded this knife, can I really think badly of them? I mean, look at what I'm doing with it. And besides, they had even leaded me to what could be the greatest event of my life: falling in love. I'm keeping what could possibly be murder evidence just for the sake of seeing the Flame Demon again.

But I'm not a murderer.

Everything I'm doing, it's only for the sake of love. Only for the person I admire most, who feels the same way back. And I'm not even harming anybody in the process. If I did, then I would be committing a crime.

But I'm not.

I'm only keeping what is the only key to seeing my beloved. I won't have to hurt anyone . . . only if they get in my way will I have to make a choice.

The Occult Club comes in here at 7:15 sharp, so I stuff my outdoor shoes into my locker quickly in order to get there before they do.

After shoving the door open and hurrying pass the ever-burning candles (maybe there is magic here after all, how do those things stay lit 24/7?) I throw off my bag to pull out my secret key to the demon realm: the precious knife.

As much as I wanted to wash the blood off of it to not look suspicious, the dark red stains still remained, halfway to completely crusting up. I didn't know much about occultism, but something told me that the blood still needed to be there for the ritual to work.

I carefully slid the knife into the little skull on the table, making sure to hide the blood like last time and felt the world around me cloak itself in purple smoke.

Traveling into the demon realm the second time seemed to take away the frightening feeling of dissolving into the air and then re-materializing in a dark and shady dimension. The realm was still the same as before, with all the same demons before me.

But like last time, I couldn't care less about the other two. I immediately ran for the Flame Demon and chose to commune.

"Flame Demon," I say breathlessly. "It's me, Sakura."

The warm feelings of infatuation washes over me once again, heating me up inside like a glowing light. Or maybe it's the aura of intense heat that surrounded my beloved. But all that anticipation last night, wondering and waiting to see him again all felt worth it to gaze into his . . . um, flames.

"Sakura," he responds hesitantly. "I need to tell you something."

As much as I love hearing my name being spoken from his sexy voice, something felt off. I couldn't see his eyes through the white glow of his fire but I could tell he was avoiding my gaze. Even a few beads of sweat sprouted peculiarly upon his face.

"You can tell me anything," I say hurriedly. Suddenly, the elation I felt before seemed to swell into anxiety.

"Sakura," he says gently, placing my clammy hands into his gloved hands, letting me feel his heat radiate from him like a light bulb. "I cannot see you anymore."

All happiness in me dissipates like smoke.

I release his grasp in panic. "W-hat, what does that mean?" I stutter. "Is it because I'm mortal? Is that the problem?"

I only prayed it was because he feared me dying and vanishing from his life. If it was something personal . . . I don't think I could ever live with myself.

"Me being with you has raised some complications," Flame Demon replies hastily. "Someone else is a little upset about it . . ."

"What do you mean someone else?" I interrupt him, gritting my teeth.

"N-not like that!" he cries. "You're the only one I have gotten close to! It's just that there's a problem involving . . . the laws of demon-hood."

"There are laws?" I ask, dubious.

"Certain rules, ones as old as time itself, dictate that those of the demon realm cannot commune with humans who don't wish to bargain their souls," Flame Demon explains to me.

"But I have bargained my soul," I interject.

"People who have won back their souls aren't supposed to return to the demon realm," Flame Demon replies. "And if I'm caught with you again—"

He suddenly stops and refuses to look at me.

"What happens?" I egg him on. "You can tell me."

Cringing, he backs away from me. "I cannot be here with you anymore."

Furious, I charge forward in an attempt to grab his hands and reason with him, but before I can, he suddenly vanishes into thin air, leaving in the dark and empty void, completely alone.

Tears began to sting at my eyes. He abandoned me. He actually abandoned me. The warm feelings I had around him that I thought were everlasting turn into bitter misery before my eyes.

Running, I head for the glowing white ring of light and transported back home. In haste, I slide the knife out of the skull and stuff it into my bag. When I darted for the door, a bunch of Occult Club members already stood in the threshold, baffled as I push them away from me, still staring at me with their one-eyed gaze as I sped away from the club room.

I didn't care about them. I don't think I care about anything right about now. Not when I felt like my heart was splintering apart.

All I felt was the dark, burning sensation inside me, filling me with a queasy sort of emotion, like all I could do was curl up into a ball and cry.