Tokyo's streets were bathed in the harsh neon glow of billboards and streetlights, casting an artificial brightness on the city's underbelly. The glitz of flashing signs couldn't cover up the stench of desperation that clung to the air. A city of dreams, perhaps, but also a city where nightmares festered just beneath the surface.
In a quiet ramen shop tucked between towering skyscrapers, the buzz of human activity hummed like a distant lullaby. Steam rose from simmering broths, the rich scent of sizzling meat cutting through the air, mixing with the chatter of patrons lost in their own little worlds. Yet amidst this ordinary, predictable cycle of life, there was an anomaly.
At the farthest corner of the shop, seated alone, was a man who didn't belong. He was like a figure torn out of a myth, a shadow too perfect to be real.
Dressed in a midnight-black kimono, his presence felt out of place, untouched by the grime of the world around him. His long obsidian hair cascaded over his shoulders, framing a face so symmetrical it bordered on eerie. But it was his eyes—crimson, half-lidded, unreadable—that drew attention. They glowed with something ancient, something dangerous. They reflected the neon lights of the city, but held no trace of warmth or humanity.
Before him, an empty ramen bowl sat—untouched, waiting.
The murmurs of the waitstaff behind the counter grew quieter, as if the man's presence had made them forget how to speak. They exchanged glances, their curiosity evident.
"Who is he?" one waitress whispered.
"He looks unreal... like a fallen god."
"I bet he's rich, or a model. Or both."
Ana Nikihatsu, the shop's most confident waitress, smirked as she straightened her apron. A glint of mischief danced in her eyes. "Well, I'm going to find out."
With a slow, purposeful step, she approached the corner booth where the mysterious figure sat. She leaned against the table, her smile playful, teasing.
"Hey, handsome," she purred, her voice dripping with allure. "What's on your mind? Me, perhaps?"
For the first time, the man moved.
His crimson gaze lifted slowly, locking onto hers with a sharpness that made her breath catch. Ana had seen many men look at her before, but this felt different. There was something predatory about the way his eyes assessed her, as if he were sizing up the effort it would take to consume her.
Then, a slow, almost amused smile spread across his face.
"Thinking about you, sweet one," he murmured, his voice smooth and velvet-like, yet sharp with an edge.
Ana flushed slightly, caught off guard by his response. "H-huh?"
"Is it a crime to think of you?" His voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of something darker, something that made her stomach twist.
She laughed nervously, but the sound felt hollow in her ears. Something inside her screamed run, but she pushed the thought aside. "No, of course not. If you don't mind... would you go on a date with me?"
The man stood suddenly, moving with a fluidity that was almost inhuman, like he was a figure out of a dream. His height was imposing, his presence almost overwhelming as he towered over her.
Leaning in close, his breath brushed against her ear, sending an electric shiver down her spine.
"It would be my pleasure, pretty one."
Ana's heart skipped a beat. There was something too perfect about him, and yet, she found herself unable to pull away. Against every instinct, she felt herself drawn to him. Something about him was magnetic, and she had to admit—it terrified her. The neon lights outside flickered, casting an eerie glow, but Kaede—he was already fading into the shadows, disappearing with her into the city's depths.
The alley they walked down was unnervingly silent. The city's usual hustle and bustle seemed miles away, the noises of Tokyo muted, as if they had stepped into another world. Ana clung to Kaede's arm, her fingers brushing the smooth silk of his kimono. She forced a nervous laugh, trying to calm the fluttering in her chest.
"You smell good," she murmured, though the words felt strange even as they left her mouth.
Kaede barely responded, his voice softer now, laced with something that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. "You're right. I do."
She giggled, her laugh forced, unnervingly light. "You're so smooth," she said, trying to ignore the odd chill creeping up her spine.
The alley stretched ahead, dim and suffocating, with every step feeling heavier, like they were moving through thick air. The familiar hum of the city—cars, drunken laughter, the clinking of bottles—seemed far away, as if they had stepped into a place outside of time.
"Do you want to kiss me?" she asked, trying to break the tension. Her voice was a little too high, a little too unsure.
Kaede stopped walking, and for a moment, everything felt still, suspended in time.
His crimson eyes met hers, unreadable. Too calm. Too still. It was as if he were weighing her every word, every movement, like an animal sizing up its prey.
He tilted his head slightly. His lips curled into a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Do you want me to?"
Ana's stomach tightened, something cold settling deep inside her. What was that feeling? It wasn't excitement—no, it was something darker, something she didn't want to acknowledge.
She swallowed hard, nodding. "Yes."
His smirk widened, slow, measured. It was the kind of smile that sent a shiver down her spine, but she couldn't bring herself to look away.
"Close your eyes," he whispered, his voice smooth like silk, but underlined with something else—something dangerous.
Ana's instincts screamed for her to stop. To run. But she didn't. She closed her eyes, as he instructed, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
His fingers brushed her chin. At first, it felt soft, almost tender. Then, the touch tightened—too tight, too strong. His grip was no longer gentle.
Ana's breath caught in her throat.
"Kaede—?" she gasped, but the words barely escaped her.
Her eyes snapped open.
What she saw made her blood run cold.
Kaede's hand—no longer human—was wrapped around her throat. His fingers, now long and sharp like talons, dug into her skin with inhuman strength. The softness of his touch had turned to something predatory, something deadly.
Her hands flew to his wrist, trying to pry his hand away, but it wouldn't budge. No matter how hard she struggled, she couldn't escape his grip.
"Kaede, stop!" she begged, her voice high, panicked.
But he didn't stop. His expression didn't shift—no anger, no cruelty. Only indifference. He stared at her like she was an experiment, like she wasn't even human.
A strangled whimper crawled up her throat, but it was nothing more than a hollow sound. Her chest burned, her lungs screaming for air, but Kaede's grip only tightened.
Her vision blurred. Her pulse thundered in her ears.
This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening.
The pressure on her throat increased, and with it, her world darkened. The panic in her chest became something far worse. Her breath was coming faster, shallower, her body growing weaker by the second.
And then—
A sharp, wet sound.
Pain exploded from her wrist.
Her scream—if it could even be called that—ripped through the air, weak and terrified.
Her hand. Gone.
Kaede was holding it like a discarded doll's limb, the blood pouring from her severed wrist.
Ana's body crumpled. She couldn't stand, couldn't move. All she could do was shake, tremble in agony. Her blood soaked into the pavement, pooling beneath her.
She wanted to scream again, to beg for mercy, but nothing came out. Her mouth was dry, her throat burning with the lack of air.
Kaede crouched beside her, dipping a finger into the blood that spilled from her wrist. He drew something on her forehead—something unfamiliar.
禍.
Her vision dimmed, her body convulsing with the shock. She didn't understand what it meant. All she knew was that it didn't matter.
Kaede's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he stood, brushing the blood from his fingers, his gaze lingering on her as her life slipped away.
With a final glance, he turned and melted into the darkness.
Ana's last breath trembled on the air as the neon lights flickered, swallowed by the abyss.