Takashi stood at the edge of the shrine clearing, the wind tugging at his sleeves. A storm was rolling in over Kyoto—thick clouds heavy with rain and tension. The past few days had brought little sleep and even less peace.
His second tail had emerged overnight.
It had not been graceful or gradual. He had awakened with a jolt of spiritual energy running through his spine, every nerve screaming. When he stumbled to the bathroom mirror, he saw it—another shimmering tail of black flame, flickering behind him. It had weight now. Presence. Power.
And pain.
The second tail was more than a physical sign. It was pressure—like another mind brushing against his, testing him. The fox inside him stirred more easily now. Hungry. Awake.
Hikari was the first to notice the change.
"You need to calm down," she said, arms crossed as she stood across from him in the clearing. "That tail won't listen unless you do."
"I'm trying," he said, voice low and strained. "But it's not just reacting to me. It's reacting to everything."
She stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. Her touch was grounding.
"Then learn to filter. If your Sacred Gear is a furnace, your spirit has to be the bellows. Control the breath, control the flame."
He nodded. "Right."
They trained until the sky darkened. Hikari guided him through spiritual meditation, calling on the leyline beneath the shrine to help stabilize his aura. Each exercise made the second tail flicker less erratically. But the Gear—Infernal Requiem—was becoming more demanding.
It whispered now.
It remembered things he didn't.
It *wanted* things.
Takashi didn't know how much longer he could ignore it.
---
Three days later, trouble found him.
Takashi had left the shrine early in the morning to buy supplies. The old apothecary down the street carried rare herbs Hikari used in her spiritual seals. It was supposed to be a simple errand.
But the moment he stepped out of the shop, he felt the shift in the air.
Not spiritual pressure. Something colder. Sharper.
He turned and saw them.
Two figures dressed in long cloaks. Not shrine guardians. Not yokai. They walked without sound, their presence veiled—but not enough.
"Takashi Kurokami," one said, voice clear and hard. "You've drawn attention."
Takashi's eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"
The second figure pulled back his hood. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Too perfect. Too symmetrical.
"Exorcists," Hikari had told him once, "are humans trained to hunt anything that defies the balance—fallen angels, stray devils, cursed spirits, even rogue Sacred Gear wielders."
So that's what they were.
"I'm not interested in fighting," Takashi said slowly.
"Then surrender," the blond one said. "Come with us quietly, and we'll determine whether you're a threat."
"Funny," Takashi muttered, "you already made up your mind."
The first exorcist reached for a sword glowing with holy light.
Takashi moved.
Flames erupted around him, black and seething. His second tail unfurled, curling behind him like a whip.
The street emptied in seconds as pedestrians fled from the sudden wave of spiritual energy. The air cracked as one of the exorcists launched forward, sword raised.
Takashi ducked the slash and countered with a wave of black fire. The blade cut through it—but not all of it. The flames curved midair and struck the exorcist's leg, making him stumble.
"You've barely learned control," the blond one taunted. "You're all fire and rage. No precision."
Takashi gritted his teeth. He had to think. Had to *calm down.*
"Infernal Requiem—Second Gate," he whispered.
A glyph lit beneath him, and chains of fire shot out from the ground, wrapping around both exorcists. They burned away with light magic, but the pause gave him time.
He ran.
---
He didn't go back to the shrine.
Instead, he found himself on the rooftops of Gion, crouched beneath a ceramic overhang as rain finally broke across the sky. The cold water hissed on his skin, steaming where it touched his aura.
*You ran,* the fire inside him murmured. *Why? They were weak.*
"I'm not killing people just because they're scared of me," Takashi hissed back. "That's not strength."
*That's restraint,* the fire growled. *That is weakness with excuses.*
He pressed his palms to the roof tiles, focusing. The fire dulled—slightly.
Then he sensed her.
Hikari landed beside him, silent despite the rain.
"You weren't followed," she said. "I made sure."
He didn't answer.
"You fought well," she added. "But they'll come back."
"I know."
"Next time, they won't ask you to surrender."
Takashi looked up at the sky. "How do I control something that doesn't want to listen?"
Hikari crouched beside him. "You don't tame the flame. You become its reason to burn."
He turned to her. "I'm scared, Hikari."
"I know," she whispered. "So am I."
---
Later that night, Takashi lay on the temple floor, staring at the ceiling. His body ached. His mind raced.
He remembered the exorcist's words.
You're all fire and rage.
What if they were right?
He closed his eyes, and a memory surfaced.
Not from this life—from the last.
He stood on a ruined battlefield, black flames roaring around him. A girl was crying, calling his name. He couldn't hear her over the sound of screaming.
His fire had burned everything.
He clenched his fists. "Not again."
---
The next morning, Hikari woke him with urgency in her voice.
"We have a problem," she said. "Something crossed the leyline boundary last night. It wasn't human. And it wasn't alone."
Takashi sat up. "Yokai?"
"No. Worse. Someone's summoning spirits from the Otherworld. Something is weakening the barrier."
They gathered supplies and traveled deeper into the forest beyond the shrine, where the leyline pulse was faint and erratic. The trees were twisted, and the mist hung unnaturally still.
Then they saw it.
A tear in space. A rift, no bigger than a doorframe, flickering with violet energy.
Beyond it, shadowy shapes moved.
Takashi stepped forward, but Hikari held him back.
"We can't go in," she warned. "We seal it."
She placed talismans around the perimeter, whispering ancient words. But before the seal could take hold, the rift pulsed—and something stepped through.
It was tall and vaguely human, but wrong. Its face was masked. Its limbs too long. Energy leaked off it like oil.
It looked at Takashi.
"You smell like the cursed flame," it said.
Takashi raised his hands. "Who are you?"
"I am the gatekeeper of the forgotten," the thing replied. "And you are the key."
It lunged.
Takashi unleashed his fire, but the creature slipped through it, appearing behind him.
It struck.
Pain exploded in his side as the thing's claws grazed his ribs. Hikari threw a seal, blasting it back momentarily.
"Takashi!" she shouted. "Channel the leyline!"
He dropped to his knees and pressed his palms to the earth. The ground answered. Flames surged upward, this time not wild—but harmonized with the shrine's pulse.
"Infernal Requiem—Third Verse!" he shouted, unsure of what it meant.
A ring of fire exploded outward, cleansing the corruption around the rift. The gatekeeper shrieked and vanished into the tear, which sealed with a shudder.
Silence returned.
Takashi collapsed.
He awoke in the shrine again, bandaged and exhausted.
"You're alive," Hikari said, relieved.
"Barely," he muttered.
"You used a Verse of the Gear. That's dangerous."
"It worked."
She hesitated. "Yes. But it responded too easily. You're syncing with it more than I expected."
He sat up. "I need to. If I don't, Kyoto will burn."
She looked away. "Just promise me you won't lose yourself."
He reached for her hand.
"I promise."
That night, he stood before the shrine again.
Two tails flickered behind him. The fire was still hungry, still whispering.
But now, he didn't whisper back.
He roared.