Monday came too quickly. The kind of Monday where the air tasted like metal and the sky couldn't decide whether to rain or just hang there in silence. I stood in front of the school gates, watching the students trickle in — laughing, shouting, glued to their phones — as if nothing had changed. As if the world hadn't tilted beneath my feet just days ago. As if I hadn't killed something that shouldn't exist.
I adjusted my uniform collar, tugged my sleeves down to cover the faint black markings still tracing my right arm. They weren't glowing anymore, but I could feel them — like whispers under the skin. A dull hum, just low enough to ignore, just loud enough to never forget.
"Yo, Kazuki! "
I turned. The voice didn't belong to anyone I actually talked to. Not really.
It was Yamato, one of the class clowns — tall, always grinning, always surrounded by too much energy and not enough sense. He jogged up beside me, eyes scanning me like I was a newly discovered species.
"Didn't see you around Friday. You sick or something? " he asked, nudging my arm.
I forced a smile. "Yeah. Stomach bug. Nothing serious. "
He squinted. "Huh. You look kinda different. "
I stiffened. "Different? "
"Yeah. Like… cooler? Or maybe it's the hair? Did you change shampoo? "
Before I could answer, a voice cut through the air — soft, familiar, like silk brushing my name.
"Good morning, Kazuki. "
I turned.
Aoi.
She stood just a few steps away, her schoolbag resting against one hip, her expression calm — but her eyes flickered with something more. Something unspoken. Her gaze lingered on mine half a second longer than it needed to.
The world seemed to tilt again — not violently, just… subtly. Like a breath caught in the throat of the universe.
"Morning, " I replied, keeping my tone even.
Yamato blinked between us. "Wait—you two know each other? "
Aoi gave a tiny smile. "We've had a few conversations. "
That wasn't a lie. But it wasn't the truth either.
Because she'd seen me.
She'd seen everything.
And she hadn't told anyone.
Not yet.
As we walked into the school together — side by side, not saying much — I felt dozens of eyes burning into my back. Whispers followed us like shadows. Curious, jealous, confused.
Kazuki, the invisible one, suddenly walking next to Aoi — one of the most admired girls in school. It didn't make sense to them.
And I could feel it begin.
The pull.
The attention.
The war of glances and smiles.
Inside the classroom, the noise was the usual blur — chairs scraping, books dropping, someone laughing too loud in the back. I slid into my seat by the window, the same one I'd sat in all year, hoping maybe today I'd disappear into it again.
No such luck.
"Morning, Kazuki~"
The voice came sing-song and sharp. I didn't have to look to know who it was.
Reina.
She leaned against my desk, lips curled in that signature smirk of hers. Long hair perfectly styled, uniform just slightly too tight in all the places she knew would draw attention. A school idol, a self-made queen — and not the kind who gave time to people like me.
Until now.
"You've been ignoring me lately, " she said, eyes sparkling with mock hurt. "Kind of rude, don't you think? "
"I didn't realize we were talking, " I replied dryly.
She gasped in exaggerated offense. "Oh, so now you're the mysterious silent type? I could get used to that. "
Before I could reply — or escape — another voice cut in.
"Don't you have your own desk, Reina? "
Asha.
She stood by the back of the room, arms crossed, eyes like sharpened obsidian. She wore her uniform looser, the tie undone, black nail polish barely within regulation. Rumor had it she had a part-time job in some underground café. Maybe it was true. Maybe she just liked people thinking it was.
"What's it to you? " Reina shot back without even turning.
"Nothing, " Asha said. "Just thought it was pathetic, watching you crawl over someone just because he finally got a little attention. "
The room went silent for half a breath.
Then Reina smiled. The kind of smile that says I'm going to eat you alive.
"At least I don't hide behind eyeliner and failed poetry, " she purred.
Asha's eyes narrowed.
They were both still staring at me.
I wished I could sink through the floor.
Around us, the other students whispered. Some stared openly. I caught a few boys across the room watching — wide-eyed, brows furrowed.
"Is that Kazuki? "
"Since when is Reina talking to him? "
"I thought she only flirted with third-years…"
"Maybe he's rich? "
"Nah, he's just weird. Girls love that tortured thing now. "
I clenched my fists under the desk.
It wasn't the attention that bothered me. It was the suddenness. The falseness. I hadn't changed. Not really. But something had shifted in the way they saw me.
Because of Aoi.
Because of what I had become.
And the worst part?
Even she was watching now.
I turned just enough to catch Aoi's gaze from across the room. She wasn't smiling. Wasn't angry either. Just… focused. Studying me. As if she was trying to piece something together and didn't want to rush the answer.
Then I saw him.
Haruki.
He sat two rows behind me. He hadn't said a word.
But he was watching.
Not like the others. Not with jealousy. Not with curiosity.
With recognition.
Like he already knew me. Like he was just waiting for me to notice.
That night, the dream returned.
But this time… it wasn't just a dream.
It began in silence.
A field of ash.
The sky cracked open like glass.
And in the center of it all—me. Alone.
Except I wasn't.
He was there.
Kaer.
Not in full. Not yet. Just… a shadow within the fire.
His voice was not sound. It was presence. It echoed inside my chest like a second heartbeat.
"You are awakening. "
I stood frozen. My mouth moved, but no words came.
"The runes are just the surface. "
"You are the vessel, Kazuki. "
"The war begins with you. "
A flash of light. My arm—my real arm—burned black with ancient symbols I couldn't read. My legs gave way beneath me, and I fell to one knee in the ashes.
The sky bled.
From it, monsters fell like stars. Twisting, screaming, shifting.
Aberrations.
Kaer reached out with a hand of flame.
"You will fight. "
"You will fall. "
"You will rise. "
I tried to scream.
And woke up.
My room was silent.
The city lights bled softly through the thin curtains. I could hear the hum of traffic somewhere distant.
I sat up. My chest was soaked with sweat. My breath ragged.
And my right arm—
Glowing again.
Not a soft pulse like before.
It burned.
Like something inside was waking up too fast.
I stumbled out of bed, nearly falling as the pain spiked behind my eyes. I grabbed the small mirror on my desk and held it up—
And stared at my own reflection.
My right eye. Red again.
Like in the alley.
Like when I killed that thing.
And something else.
A thin trail of black ran from the corner of my mouth, like a crack on porcelain.
No blood. Just… darkness.
Like I was fracturing.
I touched it—
It vanished.
But the fear didn't.
I wasn't dreaming anymore.
Something had crossed over.
That same night, miles away in the industrial district of western Tokyo, something stirred.
It slithered out from a broken manhole cover like oil poured over bone. A mass of muscle and teeth and fractured metal — fused like a parasite to the broken body of a vending machine.
Its legs twitched. Its jaw gnashed like it remembered being human once.
And its target —
was already marked.
A young man walking home alone.
The Aberration didn't hesitate.
It lunged.
The smell hit him first.
Like rotting metal soaked in engine oil. It crawled into his nose and curled behind his eyes, clinging to his lungs like smoke.
Kazuki stood at the edge of the alley, heartbeat pounding in his ears.
The city hadn't noticed yet.
To the left — a row of closed shops, metal shutters rolled down, neon signs flickering above them. To the right — the back entrance to a train station, stairs still damp from the afternoon rain. Shadows stretched long and quiet across the asphalt.
Then the sound came.
Wet. Clicking. Organic and mechanical.
Something wrong.
The figure stepped into view — or what had once been a figure.
It stood over two meters tall, hunched and twitching like it couldn't remember how limbs worked. Its frame was humanoid but broken, twisted, and reconstructed. Skin fused with synthetic plating. Its left leg ended in a malformed spike — bone, maybe — and its arms were too long, dragging clawed fingers across the pavement.
Its head…
There was no face. Only a jagged tear of flesh where a jaw should be, with wires snaking in and out like veins.
An Aberration.
Class B.
Designation: Fleshbound. Hybrid-form parasitic mutation. Aggression: Extreme. Intelligence: Rudimentary. Behavior: Predatory. Known for adaptive physical restructuring and proximity ambush tactics.
The kind of thing that left nothing behind but shredded pavement and broken spines.
And it had seen him.
The creature screeched — a sound like a thousand rusted blades screaming in unison — and charged.
Kazuki didn't think.
He moved.
But it wasn't just instinct. His body responded faster than his mind — too fast. Like muscle memory that wasn't his own. His legs launched him sideways just as a clawed hand slammed into the ground where he'd been.
The impact cracked the asphalt.
Kazuki landed on one knee, sliding backward.
The creature turned with a grinding noise — its neck snapping at an impossible angle. Sparks flew from under its shoulder as if something inside misfired.
It came again.
Kazuki raised his arm, and—
It changed.
His right forearm lit up in black.
Veins pulsed outward like ink spilled beneath the skin.
And from the center of his palm — something surged.
Not a weapon.
A shockwave.
The moment the Aberration lunged, it collided with a force invisible to the human eye — a compression of energy that exploded outward with a thunderous crack. The creature was thrown backward, crashing into the metal shutter of a closed pharmacy with enough force to dent steel.
Kazuki fell to his hands.
His breath caught.
His reflection flickered in a broken shop window beside him.
Right eye: glowing red.
Right side of his face: darkened, veined with shadows.
His hand: still shaking, still marked, alive with something ancient.
A group of people ran from the station, screaming.
Someone was filming. Someone else just stood there, frozen.
Kazuki turned.
The Aberration was getting up.
Its back broken in three places — but it didn't matter.
Its body reformed.
Bones cracked, plating shifted, muscle rewove itself like thread on a loom. It roared, charging again — mouth wide, filled with rotating metal teeth.
Kazuki stood.
This time he didn't run.
The Aberration came for him again, faster this time.
Its claws scraped sparks from the pavement. Its limbs convulsed, driven by rage or programming — Kazuki couldn't tell which. A shriek split the air, high and mechanical, as the thing lunged with its jagged mouth wide, ready to tear through him.
Kazuki's right foot slid back instinctively.
He didn't brace —
He let go.
The blackness inside him surged forward like a tide.
It wasn't magic. It wasn't science.
It was something old.
A forgotten language etched into his blood, now screaming to be remembered.
As the creature struck — Kazuki raised his hand.
This time, he didn't push.
He commanded.
The shadows obeyed.
Dark tendrils burst from his palm, wrapping the Aberration mid-leap. The creature twisted, howled — its synthetic muscle ripping as it tried to escape. Kazuki felt every movement, every vibration in the tendrils like they were nerves connected to his own flesh.
He stepped forward.
His voice, deeper, unfamiliar, broke through his lips:
"Return to silence. "
The tendrils tightened.
With a sound like a collapsing engine, the Aberration's body crushed inward — not exploded, not torn — but imploded.
Bone, steel, tissue — all folded into itself in a blur of collapsing mass.
A final screech echoed, then died.
Silence.
A soft wind rolled through the alley. Neon lights flickered in stunned reverence.
Kazuki stood there, trembling, his hand still raised.
The tendrils evaporated.
His skin lightened.
The red glow in his eye faded — but not fully.
He looked down.
The ground was scorched in a perfect ring around him.
Smoke drifted from his right palm.
People on the street had stopped. Some stared. Others began filming. Someone shouted something incomprehensible.
Kazuki turned on instinct and ran.
He didn't stop until he reached the edge of the city — the foot of a hill where an old train line curved toward the forest.
His breath was ragged. Sweat drenched his shirt.
He stumbled onto a service road, empty and half-lit, and finally collapsed to one knee.
"What…" he muttered, clutching his chest, "what am I? "
And then —
a voice, smooth as silk and sharp as glass.
"You're late. "
He looked up.
A woman stood beneath the railway arch.
Barefoot. Cloaked in black and gold. Her long white hair shimmered like moonlight, though there was no moon. Her eyes burned — not red like his, but pure white. Timeless.
She smiled faintly.
"First time's always rough, " she said, walking toward him. "But you didn't die. That's good. "
He stared.
"Who… are you? "
She stopped two paces from him.
"I'm the one who's going to train you, " she said simply. "Because whether you like it or not—"
She reached out and tapped his chest, right above his heart.
"—you've already started becoming him. "
Kazuki's eyes widened.
"Becoming who? "
Her smile widened just slightly.
"Kaer. "