Aiko remained kneeling, her hand still tingling from the cold energy radiating from the scratched symbol beneath the wallpaper. She stared at it, a mixture of fear and fascination holding her captive. It felt ancient. It felt wrong.
"What did you find?"
Kaito's voice, low and sharp, startled her. She hadn't heard him approach. She looked up to see him standing a few feet away, his earlier impatience gone, replaced by a focused, intense scrutiny. He wasn't looking at her; he was looking at the peeled-back section of the wall.
"I... I don't know," Aiko stammered, scrambling to her feet. "It just felt... cold. Wrong. Like you told me to look for."
He didn't respond. He stepped past her, kneeling where she had been. His fingers, usually so controlled, hesitated for a fraction of a second before tracing the crude, spidery symbol scratched into the dark wood. As his skin made contact, his eyes narrowed, a flicker of recognition – and deep revulsion – crossing his face.
He stood up abruptly, pulling out his secure phone and hitting a speed dial. "Kenji," he snapped into the phone, his voice clipped and urgent. "Sweep the apartment. Now. Full spiritual and physical. Check every wall, every outlet, every piece of furniture. Code Black." He listened for a moment. "Yes. That kind of Black."
He hung up, his gaze sweeping the luxurious room not as a home, but as a potential battlefield. He strode over to the main control panel near the door, his fingers flying across the touchscreen. Heavy, almost invisible metal shutters slid down with a soft whirr, covering the floor-to-ceiling windows, plunging the apartment into a dim, artificial twilight lit only by the recessed ceiling lights. The feeling of being in a cage intensified tenfold.
"What is it?" Aiko asked, her voice trembling slightly. "What's Code Black?"
"It means the integrity of this location may be compromised," Kaito said grimly, turning to face her. The condescending dismissal from before was completely gone. His eyes were sharp, analytical, and fixed on her with an unnerving intensity. "Now, tell me exactly what you felt. And how you found it."
Aiko swallowed, unnerved by his sudden shift in focus. "I just... felt a cold spot," she explained, gesturing vaguely towards the corner. "Like the air was dead. Wrong. You didn't believe me, so I... I looked. And I found the tear in the wallpaper."
"And the symbol?" he pressed. "What did you feel from that?"
"Cold," she repeated, struggling to find the words. "But also... hungry? Like it was pulling something. Energy? Warmth? I don't know. It just felt... bad. Dangerous."
Kaito stared at her, truly seeing her for the first time not as a civilian liability, but as something... else. Something unexplained. "Most humans wouldn't feel anything from a faded ward like that," he said, more to himself than to her. "Even minor sensitives would barely register it."
He stepped closer, his analytical gaze scanning her face. "You said the Kageyama marked you. Did they do anything else? Any ritual? Any words?"
"No! They just grabbed me," Aiko insisted, feeling defensive. "Then you showed up."
His gaze didn't waver. "You are certain?"
"Yes!"
He remained silent for a long moment, studying her. The air was thick with unspoken questions. He was a man who dealt in facts, in power, in controllable assets. Aiko Tanaka, the convenience store clerk who could apparently feel week-old, faded Kageyama warding spells hidden behind wallpaper, did not fit into any known category.
"The mark is old," he said finally, looking back towards the hidden symbol. "Placed years ago, likely when the Kageyama first started eyeing this territory. Designed to be a passive listening post, or perhaps a trigger for a later curse. Weak. Barely active. But enough that you felt it."
He looked back at her, and the cold calculation in his eyes was mixed with a new, unsettling element: intrigue. "It seems, Tanaka-san," he murmured, his voice a low, thoughtful hum, "that you are far more... interesting... than I initially anticipated."
Before Aiko could react to that loaded statement, a chime sounded from the control panel. Kenji's voice came through the intercom, crisp and professional. "Ishikawa-sama. The sweep is complete. We found two more dormant sigils, similar design, near the ventilation shafts. All have been neutralized. The apartment is secure."
"Good," Kaito replied. "Maintain perimeter alert." He cut the connection and turned back to Aiko. The shutters remained down. The cage was locked tight.
But now, the warden was looking at his prisoner with entirely new eyes. He wasn't just responsible for her safety anymore. He was responsible for understanding what, exactly, he had brought into his carefully controlled world.