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. 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 mispoke. 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? I don't work for anyone cause I'm going to be King."
Ito's eyebrow quirked. "Yeah, you seem very desperate to become King."
Akira moves back at the acquisition, "What makes you say that?"
Ito points at Akira's chest, "The crown marking you craved into your skin."
Akira quickly pulls up his hospital gown. "Uh, no, I've always had this."
Ito looks at Akira in confusion. "Let's get back on topic. You either pay your hospital bill or you work for me." Ito types in a large number on his phone
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. I don't know what she wants to do as a prince, but I want to make sure she excels in that thing no matter what."
Akira looks in confusion, "Yeah, so where do I come in?"
"Wait, I'm not done!" Ito barks, "Alright, have you heard of the Battle for the Crown?" Akira shakes his head. "It was a large-scale battle with all 4 of the Kingdoms participating, it took place around 50 years ago and basically put all the Kingdoms on equal footing again, but the Yoru Kingdom quickly lost that footing after a battle with the Sao Kingdom that ended in a truce."
Akira perks up, "Oh yeah, I heard about that a few years ago, it ended in no casualties."
Ito frowns, "But you're wrong, after the battle, the Yoru Kingdom lost our greatest assets, the inner circle knights of the Yoru Kingdom, the 7 Shades died. We couldn't let the other Kingdoms know our weakness, so we created that fake story. But if anyone found out about that bluff, we would all be sitting ducks."
Akira's jaw clenched. "And you want to change that."
Ito's eyes hardened. "Yeah, my sister being a Prince would be the biggest target. So i need to form the new versions of the 7 Shades."
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.
That debt would leave me broke for my whole life, 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. "Alright, I'll join, but as soon as my debt is paid, i'm coming for that throne."
"As long as it doesn't hurt my family, you can do whatever you want," Ito said, amusement in his voice.
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 joining the group."
I