Tokyo drowned in neon lights, yet its streets reeked of filth and desperation. A city of dreams, yes—but also a city where nightmares thrived.
In a tucked-away ramen shop, the air was thick with steam and the scent of sizzling meat. People chatted, laughed, slurped noodles with reckless hunger. Life continued in its usual cycle—predictable, ordinary.
Except for one presence.
At the farthest corner, away from the warm chatter, he sat.
A man draped in a midnight-black kimono, untouched by the grime of the world. Long, obsidian hair cascaded over his shoulders, framing a face sculpted with an eerie perfection. His crimson eyes, half-lidded and unreadable, reflected the glow of the city outside.
An empty ramen bowl sat before him. Untouched for minutes.
Yet, he made no move to leave.
Behind the counter, a small group of waitresses whispered, stealing glances at him.
"Who is he?" one murmured.
"He looks unreal… like a fallen god."
"I bet he's rich. Or a model. Or both."
Ana Nikihatsu smirked, straightening her apron. "Well, I'm going to find out."
She strode over, confidence laced in her every step. A playful smirk danced on her lips as she knocked on his table—light, teasing.
"Hey, handsome," she purred. "What's on your mind? Me, perhaps?"
For the first time, he moved.
Slowly, his crimson gaze lifted, locking onto hers.
Ana's breath hitched.
His eyes—deep, predatory—weren't just looking at her. They were assessing her. Like a beast calculating how much effort it would take to sink its fangs into its prey.
Then, the corner of his lips curled.
"Thinking about you, sweet one," he murmured, voice like velvet laced with razors.
Ana flushed. "H-huh?"
"Is it a crime to think of you?"His fingers tapped lazily against the table, his smirk widening.
She laughed, though something inside her screamed run. "No, of course not. If you don't mind… would you go on a date with me?"
He rose from his seat—movements flawless, effortless, inhumanly smooth. His towering presence made her feel smaller than she ever had before.
Leaning in, his breath brushed against her ear.
"It would be my pleasure, pretty one."
Ana's heart stumbled.
The neon lights flickered outside as they disappeared into the Tokyo night.
The Dark Hallway
The alley was silent. Too silent.
Ana clung to Kaede's arm, her fingers brushing against the silk of his kimono. A nervous laugh bubbled from her lips. Why was she nervous? He was just a guy. A damn gorgeous guy.
Maybe it was the way he smelled—something rich, dark, unnervingly clean. Like rain on steel. Like something not quite human.
"You smell good,"Kaede muttered.
His voice—softer now—sent something cold curling down her spine.
Ana giggled, too light, too forced. "You're so smooth."
The alley stretched ahead, dim, suffocating. The usual hum of the city—cars, laughter, drunken footsteps—felt far away.
Why does it feel like we stepped out of reality?
Kaede slowed to a stop.
Ana's pulse skipped.
He turned to her, eyes half-lidded, unreadable. Too still. Too calm.
"Do you want to kiss me?" Ana asked, forcing the words past the dryness in her throat.
Kaede tilted his head. His lips curved, but his eyes—those crimson, endless eyes—held something else.
"Do you want me to?"
Her stomach tightened.
What was that feeling?
It wasn't excitement.
Not exactly.
She swallowed, nodding.
His smirk widened. Slow. Measured.
"Close your eyes,"he murmured.
Every instinct screamed no.
But she did.
A whisper of fingers brushed her chin—gentle, almost reverent. Then—
Tightening.
Not a caress. A grip.
Too tight. Too strong.
Ana's breath hitched. A tremor ran through her chest.
"Kaede—?"
The warmth of his fingertips changed.
The soft skin sharpened.
A sting.
Then—
Pain.
Her eyes snapped open.
Her breath turned to ice.
His hand—no longer human—was wrapped around her throat. His nails—long, curved, talons—dug into her flesh.
No. No, this isn't real.
Her mind refused to process it. Refused to understand.
This was a joke. A bad joke. Right?
Her hands flew up, grabbing his wrist, but it wouldn't budge.
"Kaede,"she gasped. "S-stop—!"
His expression didn't change.
Not anger. Not cruelty.
Indifference.
Like she was already dead.
This isn't happening. This isn't happening.
A strangled whimper clawed up her throat. Her chest burned.
The pressure increased. Her vision blurred.
His eyes watched her—studied her. A scientist observing a specimen.
Then—
A sharp, wet sound.
Something ripped.
A scream—her scream—fractured the silence.
Something warm splattered.
Her body spasmed. Her nerves screamed.
Her hand.
Gone.
Kaede held it between his fingers like a discarded doll's limb.
She crumpled. She couldn't stand. Her body wouldn't listen.
She had to move—had to run—
But all she could do was shake.
Blood poured from her wrist, soaking into the pavement.
Her breath hitched—fast, shallow, ragged.
No. No. No.
She wanted to scream again.
Nothing came out.
Kaede crouched beside her.
Dipped a finger into the pooling blood.
Drew a character on her forehead—禍.
She didn't know what it meant.
Didn't care.
All she knew was she was dying.
Kaede exhaled, slow, satisfied.
"The fear in your eyes…"he murmured, almost fond. "That's what I truly devour."
Ana's body twitched.
A sob—weak, wet—bubbled up her throat.
She didn't want to die.
Not like this.
Her vision darkened.
The neon lights blurred, swallowed by the night.
Kaede watched as her last breath shuddered from her lips.
Then, with an almost lazy motion, he licked the blood from his fingers.
A thoughtful hum.
"Hmm," he sighed. "Fear makes the blood taste richer."
His hunger? Not even close to satisfied.
He stood, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear.
With one last glance at his offering, he turned.
And melted into the dark.