Pain. Fire. Breathless agony.
Akira's eyes snapped open. The ceiling above him blurred—white panels, a single buzzing light. He blinked, trying to anchor himself. A hospital room. The smell of antiseptic. The soft, uneven hiss of a distant respirator.
"Where am I?" he croaked.
Hands, careful and unfamiliar, brushed back his hair as he pushed himself up beneath the thin blanket. He felt along his side—bandages, bruises, the sticky roughness of healing skin beneath the hospital gown. Faded pain laced through his ribs like a constant reminder.
A Torii gate—carved from ink-dark Tao—blinked into being at the edge of the bedframe. The air snapped cold and electric. A man stepped through the gate: red hair tied into a high ponytail, an eyepatch over his right eye, armor stitched with black and gold. He carried the sort of presence that made the room feel smaller—an impossible calm that flattened sound.
"Ito Yoru," the man announced, voice low as thunder. "Yoru's Supreme General of War."
Akira's tongue felt thick. "Ito Yoru?" The name landed like a stone. "You—saved me?"
Ito inclined his head. "You're awake. Surprising. Your Tao was off the charts out there. Did you have any final wishes, boy? Anything you want to do before you die?"
Akira's hand moved of its own accord to his chest, fingers brushing the scarred air. "Am I—going to die?"
Ito waved the question away with a faint, impatient motion. "No. I misspoke. You work for me now. So I'm asking—what do you want to do while you're under my command?"
Akira narrowed his eyes. "Work for you? You can't just order me because you have a title."
Ito's eyebrow quirked. "I saved you. You owe me the hospital bill, and If you say something like 'I never asked to be saved.' If you refuse, go jump off a cliff, like you would do that anyway." Then he softened, as if surprised at his own bluntness. "But I won't exact payment in coin. Serve, and the debt repays itself."
Akira thumped a palm against his thigh, the movement stubborn. "Fine. What do I have to do?"
Ito rose, filling the small room with shadow. He paced once, slow and deliberate.
"You know about princes," he said. "My sister is the current prince of Yoru. She wants to become the next King of Humanity. Every generation, princes chase the same thing—power, the throne. Most die chasing it. Thousands of years of the same thing have happened. They never get to be King. They don't even have the luxury of wondering what might have been if they hadn't died on the battlefield; they don't even get to say i lie like that all they can do is realize they weren't good enough.
Akira's jaw clenched. "And you want to change that."
Ito's eyes hardened. "I want to find a way to build my sister an army of the next generation, it's already very promising, there are people like you and those two who saved you, because i think that this will be strongest genration, which is why i want to have my sister to be surrounded by those people, people like you, so she can be King."
Akira felt something restless coil in his chest. He thought about the developer's card in the dirt—the man who'd died thinking himself protected. He thought about the way his own survival had felt less like luck and more like a beginning.
I don't want to die either, but I can't sit by and watch someone take the throne right in front of me, especially when I'm helping them do it. Akira said. "But I'm not here to be someone's insurance policy. I'll work—until I earn the right to pay off my debt. Then I'll chase my own goal."
"And what is that?" Ito asked, curiosity and caution mixed into his voice.
Akira's smile was small and fierce. "To become the next King of Humanity."
The name hit the room like a dropped coin. Ito's expression shifted—surprise, amusement, something almost like approval. He allowed himself a grin, sharp and quick.
"I like you," he admitted. Then his face tightened. "You would do well as a member of the Yoru family, and you would do well to stay clear of ever trying to stop the Yoru family understood.
Akira's shoulders squared. He'd heard that line a thousand ways from a thousand people who wanted obedience dressed as protection. "Alright, I got it."
Ito stepped outside of the room to see two young hunters outside of it, one a tall pale boy with blond hair and dark circles under his eyes, along with him stands a girl slighty younger maybe 15, She has light brown skin and much more confidence in her stance then the boy.
Ito taps both of them on the shoulders "Guess what, it went well, We have another person joing the group."
I