"I can't help but dance in excitement."
Kirihito's bare feet barely touched the wet grass beneath him as he moved through the silent forest, swaying lightly like the dry leaves stirred by the night wind. His legs stepped forward, but his body danced to the haunting rhythm of the guqin and bamboo flute—the soft, hunting sounds that floated from the distant ceremony.
Sometimes the music poured out, filling the dark air like a smoky blanket; other times, it echoed faintly, like a whispered secret.
Kirihito was a paradox made flesh: mysterious and beautiful, deadly yet strangely innocent—like a psychopath with a child's mind. His grin carried both allure and menace, but beneath it lingered something more… perhaps pain? Longing? Desperation? Only by diving into his soul could one hope to understand.
The owl fluttered close, keeping pace as his shadow.
Excitement bubbled in Kirihito's thoughts:
Will there be plenty of food? he wondered, Lots of insects to kill? Will it be beautifully decorated? How will it feel to hear their hearts pounding in fear?
His white yukata and flowing hood trailed behind him softly as he danced forward, his feet making no sound on the damp earth. The forest almost echoed his anticipation.
Can't wait to see! Should I run instead of wasting time?
Spinning lightly, strands of his long black hair caught the moonlight, fluttering like dark silk. Tilting his head back, he grinned wildly, voice soft yet sharp like a snake's hiss.
"My own heart pounds just thinking about this! Hope those insects have dragon fruits to enjoy… If I don't fill my mood and stomach, I'll bathe in their blood… hehe~"
Turning to the owl with infectious enthusiasm, he called, "Let's keep going, little birdie!"
The owl responded with a gentle "Oww~" and fluttered after him, its wings making a faint flute-like sound that cleared the smoky mist swirling around them.
"Hurry up! I hate waiting, you know," Kirihito teased, a playful growl beneath his words.
He turned, fingers brushing back the messy strands of hair fallen across his face. The white cloth over his eyes peeked through silver-black locks, shimmering faintly like treasure.
"I can hear heartbeats… We're not far now, birdie."
Lowering his hand, hair wrapped softly around his tall fingers, Kirihito's grin widened like a child on the cusp of mischief. His hand dropped quickly, silky black hair flowing free as he prepared to break into a run.
"So I'll really run—I don't want to miss a single thing!"
Positioning his feet, the yukata sleeve slipped to reveal one leg, muscles tense and ready. He whispered:
"Ready… get set…"
He launched forward, faster than a cheetah, the owl struggling to keep up as dust and leaves swirled in his wake. Kirihito's laughter rang out:
"Go! Hurry up, birdie! Catch me if you can! Hehehe~"
His white yukata billowed wildly, threatening to leave him bare if he ran any faster.
"Dragon fruits, I'm coming!"
From afar, the owl watched, wings beating steadily.
"He's dangerous, yet innocent… like us."
The owl's words spoke of the wild truth: Kirihito was a predator, but also unaware of the full weight of his own destruction—just like animals who kill to survive, not to harm.
Kirihito suddenly halted near a sturdy tree, chest heaving. He pressed a hand against the bark, smiling breathlessly.
"The road's in sight! The music is clearer…"
His legs trembled faintly, nerves prickling like rain-soaked pavement threatening to trip him. This was his new body—unfamiliar, fragile.
If I fall again... this time my legs might break.
He whispered to himself, voice soft and wary.
Glancing down, Kirihito studied his legs—long, smooth, like a living, breathing doll. Veins pulsed beneath pale skin, a strange exhaustion weighing heavy.
His lips parted slightly.
"Birdie hasn't caught up... Maybe I ran too fast. I'm scared... but I'll go alone. I'll bring dragon fruits for you, little one. Rest until I return."
Suddenly, sharp pain shot through his left foot—a crack echoed softly.
"Ah! No! Not again!"
His leg buckled, veins tightening like ropes wrapped too tight. His other leg faltered. He lost balance, head tipping back toward the hard tree behind him.
"Yikes! I'm falling!"
His head struck the trunk with a loud tham, shaking the tree and sending birds fleeing into the night.
Kirihito grimaced, hood slipping from his face, hair falling messily over eyes already hidden beneath white cloth. Leaves tangled in his long locks.
"What a terrible day," he muttered. "Almost broke my head before my first kill."
A white snake slid silently from the branches above, landing on his head. Kirihito barely flinched. This forest was his domain; he understood its creatures.
Tilting his head, lips parting softly, he gently removed the snake.
"Get down…"
He traced the serpent's sleek form, fingers brushing the black snake tattoos winding his wrists.
"Hi, snakie."
The snake hissed softly, blushing with the affection it felt for him—helpless before his dangerously innocent beauty. Everyone fell for Kirihito; it was how he was made.
"We'll talk later… I'm in a hurry."
The snake's eyes locked onto Kirihito's perfect, grape-red lips, sparkling with unspoken longing.
"Is something on my face, little snakie?"
Without warning, the snake pressed its lips to his, a tender, aching kiss that left Kirihito breathless yet uncomprehending.
"No time to think… I have to get to the ceremony. I'm already late."
Lowering his hand, he gently urged the snake to descend, whispering,
"Get down quickly."
As the snake slid off, it transformed—becoming a pale woman with long white hair and dark eyes, dressed in a black yukata that revealed slender shoulders and delicate curves.
She licked her lips, smirking.
"You wanted to touch my lips?"
Kirihito paused, then smiled softly.
"Bye, snakie. See you later… if God wills it."
Her gaze darkened, obsessive yet pure in ways unfathomable.
"We won't meet by accident this time, Silver-Black Poem."
Her voice faded as Kirihito disappeared into the night, chasing fate.