Aiko stared at the painted creature on the scroll. It was a whirlwind of motion and shadow, a creature of elegant, lethal grace. It was the monster from the alley. She looked from the ancient drawing to Kaito's calm, serious face.
"What is it?" she whispered.
"It is a Kamaitachi," Kaito said, his finger tracing the painted claws. "A weasel spirit of the wind, born in the mountain passes. They are impossibly fast, masters of stealth, and their claws are said to be as sharp as a surgeon's scalpel. And they are the spirit my family is bound to."
He began to tell her a story, his voice low, the words painting a picture as vivid as the scroll in front of them.
"Centuries ago," he began, "the Ishikawa were not a Yakuza clan. We were a small family of landowners, our territory constantly threatened by a larger, more aggressive lord. My ancestor, the first Kaito, was on the verge of losing everything. His soldiers were outnumbered, his people were starving."
He paused, his eyes looking at something far away. "One night, during a storm, he went to the mountain shrine to pray for a miracle. He found one. Not a god, but the King of the Kamaitachi, a great and ancient spirit whose own clan was being driven from the mountain. They were both leaders facing annihilation."
"They made a pact," Kaito continued. "A bargain, struck in the heart of the storm. The Kamaitachi and its kin would lend their speed, their stealth, and their shadows to the Ishikawa. In return, the Ishikawa would give them sanctuary in the human world, a share of all their prosperity, and, most importantly, their absolute respect. It was not a contract of master and slave. It was an alliance. A partnership."
"Like Ryo and Kamae," Aiko breathed, understanding.
"Exactly," Kaito affirmed. "That pact was sealed in blood. And it echoed down through our bloodline. Every heir to the Ishikawa clan is born with a piece of that pact inside them. A trace of the Kamaitachi's spirit is woven into our own."
The pieces of the puzzle clicked into place in Aiko's mind. His impossible speed. His silent movements. The way shadows seemed to cling to him.
"So the creature I saw in the alley..." she started.
"Was not something I summoned," he finished for her. "It was a manifestation of my own energy. My spirit, taking the form of the creature we are bound to. It is a part of me."
Aiko reached out and gently touched his arm. He didn't flinch. She thought of his loneliness, his controlled stillness, the burden he carried. "So you've never been just human," she said softly. It wasn't a question. It was a statement of understanding.
A profound sadness and a deep sense of relief washed over Kaito's face. He was being seen, truly seen, for the first time in his life. "No," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I haven't."
To make her understand, he gave her a small demonstration. He held up his hand, palm open. He concentrated for a moment, and the shadows in the corners of the library seemed to darken, to lengthen. A single, thin tendril of shadow detached itself from the floor and coiled around his fingers like a living ribbon, cool and silent. It wasn't scary. It was beautiful and strange.
He let the shadow retreat and looked at her, his expression serious again.
"The Kageyama hunt and enslave spirits. They see them as tools," he said, his voice hard. "My family partners with them. That is the fundamental difference between us. That is why they must be stopped."
He gently rolled up the scroll and put it away.
"Your ability to see these spirits, Aiko, the one that you were born with and that the Inugami awakened... it is the first and most important step," he said, turning back to her. His eyes held a new, exciting promise.
"Tomorrow, we will begin your real lessons. Seeing them is one thing. The next step... is learning how to speak with them."