Fear was a cold, sharp thing. It seized Aiko's muscles, rooting her to the spot. The growl that echoed from the alley was a sound of pure malice, a promise of violence that her mind couldn't even conjure an image for. She couldn't run. She couldn't even breathe.
Two figures emerged from the shadows, blocking her path on the sunlit pavement. They moved with a casual menace that was somehow more terrifying than the growl. They were dressed in cheap, flashy tracksuits, their hair dyed a brassy blond. They were the kind of low-level thugs you instinctively avoided on the street, but there was no avoiding them now.
The taller one, with a scar splitting his eyebrow, gave her a lazy, predatory grin. "Morning," he said, his voice grating. "We're looking for something. Our master's pet. A little dog. We heard it's taken a liking to this area."
Aiko's heart hammered against her ribs. She shook her head, her voice a strained whisper. "I don't know what you're talking about."
The second man, shorter and stockier, took a step closer. He smelled of stale cigarettes and cheap cologne. "Don't play dumb. The little beast left a trail a mile wide, right to that store." He gestured vaguely with his chin. "And now the trail leads to you. Where is it?"
"I haven't seen any dog," she lied, her voice trembling.
The taller one sighed, his smile vanishing. "Wrong answer."
Before Aiko could react, he lunged forward and grabbed her arm. His grip was like a steel vise. Panic, sharp and electric, shot through her. This was real. This was happening in broad daylight on a busy Tokyo street, and no one was paying any attention. She was just another face in the crowd, invisible.
"We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the fun way," he sneered, pulling her closer. "Our master wants his property back. And he wants to have a chat with whoever was keeping it for him."
And that's when the world changed.
It wasn't a sound that alerted them. It was a sudden, absolute drop in temperature. The warm morning air turned instantly cold, as if the sun had been switched off. The noise of the city seemed to fade into a distant hum.
A shadow fell over them.
Both thugs froze, their eyes widening in unison. The hand on Aiko's arm loosened. They weren't looking at her anymore. They were staring at something just behind her.
Aiko turned her head slowly.
Kaito Ishikawa stood there. He hadn't been there a second ago. He was simply there, a silent monolith in his perfect black suit. He looked calm, almost bored, but the air around him crackled with a palpable, terrifying energy.
The thug with the scar swallowed hard, his bravado evaporating. "I-Ishikawa-sama," he stammered, snatching his hand back from Aiko's arm as if he'd been burned. "We... we were just having a conversation with the lady."
Kaito didn't look at them. His dark, intense eyes were fixed on Aiko, assessing the situation. "This is not your territory, Kageyama," he said, his voice quiet but carrying an impossible weight. "And this is not your property. Leave. Now."
The shorter man bristled, trying to regain a sliver of courage. "Our master won't be happy—"
"I am aware," Kaito interrupted, his voice turning lethally cold. "And you should be aware of what makes me unhappy."
Then, he did something Aiko would never forget. He didn't move a muscle, but the shadow he cast on the pavement behind him… it deepened. It twisted. It grew, stretching into a grotesque, monstrous shape with too many limbs and eyes that seemed to burn with a cold, dark light. It was a silhouette of pure nightmare. The thugs saw it. Their faces turned sheet-white with a primal terror that went beyond a simple street fight. They were looking at a god, or a demon.
They stumbled backwards, tripping over their own feet in their haste to get away. "Our apologies, Ishikawa-sama!" they squeaked, before turning and fleeing down the street like their lives depended on it.
And perhaps they did.
The shadow behind Kaito shrank back, becoming his own once more. The chill in the air dissipated. The sounds of the city rushed back in. It was over in seconds.
Aiko was left shaking, her legs threatening to give out. She stared at Kaito, the man who commanded nightmares, her mind unable to process what she had just witnessed.
He stepped forward, his expression unreadable. He took in her trembling form, her wide, terrified eyes. For a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of something other than ice in his gaze. Without a word, he shrugged off his expensive suit jacket. The fabric whispered as he draped it over her shoulders. It was heavy, warm, and smelled faintly of sandalwood and night air. It was an anchor in a world that had just come unmoored.
He looked down at her, his dark eyes pinning her in place.
"This is what happens when you feed stray dogs, Tanaka-san," he said, his voice a low, final declaration.
"Now, you are my problem."