KHALID KUROSAWA'S POV
Four months without a single Hyoitai sighting felt… unusual. Not that I was complaining—Kamilah and Kenta had the three of them locked in training. My thoughts drifted as I meditated, tracing the subtle currents of my Ruh essence. The sharp ring of my phone cut through the quiet. I rose, stretching, and answered.
"Hello?"
A gruff, middle-aged voice replied instantly. "Khalid Kurosawa… not much of a phone person, huh?"
"Just call me Kuro. Where's the meeting?" I said, calm and measured.
Ooh, right. Our little rendezvous," Takumi's tone was casual, almost teasing. "Meet me in Shinjuku. Ramen at Kobushi."
"Got it. I'll be there in an hour and a half."
"See you then," he said, and the line went dead.
I stepped outside, the crisp mountain air brushing my skin. Mount Takao stretched silently behind me, the trees swaying like they were watching. The journey ahead was mundane, yet I felt a quiet anticipation.
The train ride was a contrast of worlds. From the serene, almost sacred slopes of the mountain to the neon-lit chaos of Shinjuku, the city buzzed with energy—cars honking, people rushing, advertisements glaring in every color imaginable. Yet amid the clamor, I kept my focus inward, tracking my Ruh essence, keeping my senses sharp.
Kobushi Ramen came into view, its warm lights cutting through the bustling streets. Steam rose from the sign like an invitation, and I allowed myself a small nod.
I walked in, and he was impossible to miss. A brown trench coat hung over a worn suit, the kind that had seen more nights than days. His neatly trimmed beard framed a face lined with quiet calculation. Eyes sharp, yet relaxed—like someone who had chased shadows and secrets long enough to never be surprised. He exuded the kind of calm authority that made you feel both observed and understood, the unmistakable presence of a seasoned detective.
"If it isn't Khalid Kurosawa," he said, his voice calm but carrying weight. "Have a seat."
"I told you—just call me Kuro," I replied, sliding into the chair opposite him. Sharp. Too sharp. I'd never told him what I looked like. We'd never met in person. Our conversations were sparse, all over the phone. And yet… he had spotted me the moment I walked in. I had tried to enter casually, nothing in my stance giving me away, but he saw through it anyway.
"So, you've got some intel for me regarding the mysterious Hyoitai?" I asked, leaning slightly forward.
"Yeah, but first—let's eat. I haven't had a proper meal today," he replied casually.
I didn't object. Didn't even answer.
"C'mon, lighten up, kid. Order anything you want—my treat. This world's already depressing enough; doesn't mean you have to be serious all the time."
I glanced at the menu. The smell of rich broth and fresh noodles made my stomach tighten. He caught my hesitation and smirked. "Trust me--get the Tonkotsu Special. It's what I always go for. Strong flavor, strong enough to wake you up for the shadows waiting outside."
I nodded, placing the order, while he leaned back in his seat, watching the busy ramen shop like a predator observing its environment. Steam rose from our bowls as the food arrived.
"There've been disappearances," Takumi said between mouthfuls of ramen, his tone calm but his eyes hard. "Groups of people vanishing overnight in rural areas. Residents wake up and entire families are gone--no signs of leaving, no signs of struggle."
I stirred my noodles, listening.
"Normally, when a Hyoitai drains humans of their Ruh essence, some leaks. It leaves a trail we can follow. That's how we hunt. But this time..." He set his chopsticks down and looked at me. "Nothing. No traces of Ruh essence at the scene. No forced feedings anywhere nearby. It's clean. Too clean."
"That's bad," I muttered, finally lifting my bowl.
"It's been bugging me for months," he continued. "But then...we found a body." He paused. The clatter of the shop, the hiss of boiling broth, it all faded under his words.
"Completely drained of Ruh essence," he said. "Deep bite mark on the neck. Hyoitai drain in different ways, sure, but that bite wasn't just feeding. We sent it to forensics. The body was laced with a strong, unknown poison--traces of Djinn energy embedded in it. It hits the nervous system first, paralyzes before you can even react."
I slurped a mouthful of noodles, eyes narrowing. "And the Ruh essence that leaked? Did you use it to track?"
He leaned back, exhaling through his nose. "That's just it. There was nothing. No trace at all. This Hyoitai is smart...and probably strong."
I set my bowl down slowly. "But why leave one body? Why leave a message?"
His jaw tightened. "Either it's a mistake..."
"No," I said, cutting him off. "No trace of Ruh essence? That's not a mistake. It's playing with us."
Steam rose between us, twisting in the dim light of the shop like smoke before a gunfight.
"Our opponent's poison..." I said slowly, chopsticks hovering over the bowl. "It's strong enough to immobilize a body instantly. But you're telling me it used that on entire groups? And then carried them off without a trace?"
Takumi frowned, tapping his fingers on the counter. "That's the problem. Logistically, it shouldn't even be possible. There were no footprints, no drag marks, no signs of a struggle. Everything was...normal. Too normal. Like they simply vanished."
I leaned back, arms crossed. "So no destruction, no alarm. Just gone."
"Exactly," he muttered, his brows furrowing. "Could one Hyoitai pull that off alone?"
I glanced at the window, steam from my ramen clouding my reflection. "With abilities like theirs, anything's possible. But..." I met his gaze, my voice low. "My hunch? This isn't one Hyoital. It's more."
Takumi didn't reply at first. He just stared into his bowl, the chatter of the shop fading under the weight of his silence.
He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a crumpled packet of cigarettes, and slid one between his lips. Without missing a beat, he handed me a lighter.
"Light me up, kid."
I gave him a look.
"C'mon," he said with a half-smirk, smoke practically in his tone. "Don't be shy."
I sighed, flicked the lighter, and held the flame steady. He leaned in, the tip of the cigarette catching with a soft crackle. The first drag came slow, deliberate, like every problem in the world had been filtered into that smoke.
"These ones..." he exhaled, letting the smoke curl lazily toward the ceiling, "...they'll cause us trouble."
His eyes narrowed slightly. "I heard there are new Ruhbinders."
"Yeah," I replied. "They're still training. But I'm sure they've learned something by now."
He chuckled, low and dry. "Learned something, huh? Kid, I feel bad for you. Life shoves you into this fight, no choice. Me? I just dig up intel and pass it along, and I'm terrified half the damn time. If I'm this scared, what about you--the ones actually fighting?"
He laughed at his own words, the sound rough.
"You can always quit," I said flatly.
He barked a laugh, cigarette dangling. "Yeah, right. Quit? This job matters too much. Innocent people die out there every day because of these monsters. Feeding you Ruhbinders intel, it's the least I can do. Plus..." He grinned through the smoke. "...the pay isn't bad."
I finished my bowl in silence, setting my chopsticks down.
"You full, kid?" he asked, knocking ash into the tray.
"Yeah. I'm good. Thanks."
"Don't mention it," he said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
Just then, Takumi's phone buzzed. He slipped a hand into his trench coat and answered.
On the other end, a man's voice came through ragged, breathless--like he'd been running.
"Boss--it's here! It's attacking us! Get here fast!"
Screams bled through the line, raw and panicked.
Takumi's jaw tightened, teeth grinding. "Where are you?" he demanded.
"Okutama--w-we were following a lead and then--"
The voice cut off. A crash. More screams. Then only static.
Takumi lowered the phone slowly, his knuckles white around it. The connection was dead.
The shop's warmth suddenly felt suffocating. The clatter of chopsticks, the steam curling from bowls of broth--none of it reached us. Only the dead air between Takumi and me.
"That's an hour and a half to Okutama by train," I said flatly, pushing my
half-empty bowl aside."By then the enemy's dust."
Takumi didn't argue.His jaw worked, teeth grinding behind the cigarette
clamped between his lips."You're right," he muttered, smoke spilling past
his words.His eyes, sharp and worn, stared at nothing. "They knew. My
men weren't ambushed—they were led.Fed a false trail, then slaughtered." He
tapped ash into the tray,voice dropping lower. "A message. They're letting us
know they see us."
The laughter and chatter around us went on,oblivious. But the shadows under
the neon felt heavier,like the city itself was listening.
I leaned back in my seat."They're not just hiding anymore. They're playing."
Takumi finally met my eyes,and in that moment he looked older than I'd ever
seen him."And if they're playing," he said, voice tight as a blade drawn slow
from its sheath,"then we're already pieces on their board."
Takumi slapped a few bills on the counter,muttering a rough thanks to the
chef,then turned to me with a hard look.
"Let's head to Okutama.If my men are gone, I'll damn well see it myself.
Maybe we'll find something."His voice was tight, controlled—but the anger
bleeding through was unmistakable.
We left the warmth of Kobushi and stepped into the neon haze of Shinjuku.
The city was alive—salarymen spilling from bars, the hum of trains, the glow of
pachinko parlors.None of it touched us. We moved fast, weaving through the
crowd until we reached the platform.
The train ride was long. The noise and crush of Tokyo slowly faded, replaced
by stretches of forest pressing in on either side of the glass. Stations grew
smaller,emptier. The lights of the city thinned until we were swallowed by
mountains and dark valleys.
By the time we reached Okutama, it felt like another world. The air was
sharper, colder. The streets were quiet, lanterns swaying over shuttered shops.
We didn't linger.Takumi led the way, his trench coat pulled tight, his jaw
locked.
The path he took veered off the main road, deeper into the woods. We
followed a dirt track lined with skeletal trees until even the sound of running
water vanished.No houses. No voices. Just the crunch of our boots and the
rustle of branches.
Finally, we reached it.
The clearing was empty,but the ground wasn't. Flashlight beams cut
through the dark, revealing the signs of struggle—trampled earth, broken branches,
a bloodied shoe half-buried in the dirt.The bodies of his men lay crumpled in
silence,scattered like discarded dolls. Their eyes wide open, faces twisted in the
kind of terror words couldn't capture.
Takumi froze. For the first time that night, the detective mask cracked. His
hand trembled around the flashlight as he took in every detail.
"Bastards,"he whispered, smoke curling out of his lungs though his cigarette
had burned out long ago.
The forest around us was still—too still. No owls, no insects, no life. Just
silence and the faint smell of iron hanging in the cold air.
Takumi crouched beside the first body, his flashlight cutting across the pale face. He pushed the collar aside, jaw tightening as his eyes locked on the wound.
"There. Same bite mark I told you about."
I lowered myself next to him, the damp earth soaking into my knee. My fingers brushed the skin near the wound--it was cold, stiff. The puncture was deep, ragged, like something had clamped down with inhuman force.
"None of them are drained," I muttered. "Not a drop of Ruh essence taken. Smart bastard. He left them intact so we couldn't track the leak."
Takumi swore under his breath, moving to the next body. His light flickered across the torso--holes punched clean through flesh, the kind of piercing only raw, overwhelming power could leave behind.
"Multiple punctures. He tore through them like paper," he said, voice flat but heavy with restrained rage.
I checked another. This one had no bite, only a shattered rib cage and bruising that spread like black ink across the skin.
"Not all of them have the marks. Just a few. Like he wanted us to see it. Like a signature."
Takumi's cigarette shook between his lips as he lit it, the flame briefly illuminating his face in the dark woods. His eyes weren't just angry--they were calculating, already pulling the pieces together.
"He's not sloppy. Every body here is a message. He's saying he can kill whenever he wants... and still keep us blind."
The forest pressed in tighter around us, the silence louder than any scream.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, shattering the stillness of the forest. I yanked it out, thumb swiping before the second ring.
"Kuro speaking."
"Kuro, get to the academy now. We've got business to take care of." Kenta's voice was clipped, urgent.
"Where are you?" he asked.
"I'm in Okutama. A Hyotiai attacked Mr. Takumi's men."
"Then move. Both of you. I'll fill you in at the academy." The line went dead.
I lowered the phone, staring at the dark trees for a heartbeat. "Kenta's ordered us back," I said quietly.
"I'll be behind you," Takumi muttered, crouching by one of his men. "I need to get a team to bring them home. They deserve a proper burial."
I studied him for a second, trying to read past the mask. "You going to be okay?"
He let out a low laugh, tired but steady. "Kid, I've been doing this for thirteen years. Don't worry about me. Go."
"I'll call when I reach the academy," I said.
He smirked faintly, cigarette dangling from his fingers. "Ironic. You've never called me once. All our conversations--I'm always the one dialing."
I almost smiled at that. Almost.
Then I inhaled, feeling the cold air flood my lungs as I gathered my energy. Djinn energy burned under my skin, flooding my legs. My muscles coiled like springs.
With a single push I launched forward, the ground blurring beneath me as I tore through the forest. Branches whipped past. Roots cracked underfoot. My heartbeat pounded in rhythm with my thoughts, each one a question clawing for an answer.
But deep inside, I wasn't afraid--I was itching for it. My restrictions were off now, and the next hyotiai I crossed paths with.. I could finally go all out. The forest howled around me as I poured more Djinn energy into my legs, the earth shattering beneath every step. My speed spiked, the wind tearing at my clothes, branches snapping past in blurs of shadow and moonlight. Faster. Stronger. Closer. The academy was waiting. The enemy was waiting. And so was my chance to cut loose.