INT. CLASSROOM – AFTERNOON
A quiet middle-school classroom. Students chat loudly in groups, chairs scraping, laughter bouncing around.
At the very corner sits KENTARO, thin, messy-haired, glasses taped on one side — reading a comic book with stars in his eyes.
Kentaro lifts the book excitedly.
KENTARO
(smiling brightly)
"Yooo, guys! Did you check this out?
It's the new Alien Dominion edition!
The invasion arc just dropped—it's so fun!"
His voice is warm… hopeful.
But the room doesn't even turn his way.
A few kids glance at him, wrinkle their noses, and look away.
One snickers. Another whispers, "Bro's reading alien comics again."
Kentaro's smile freezes.
His hand slowly lowers the book.
---
INTERNAL MONOLOGUE – KENTARO
"Again… they didn't even look at me."
"What did I do wrong? Why am I always the one ignored…?"
"Is it because I'm not 'cool' like them?"
"Is liking aliens and ghosts such a crime…?"
He adjusts his glasses, trying to hide his expression.
---
SFX: RINGGGG! – SCHOOL BELL
Instant chaos.
Students grab their bags, rush out laughing and talking.
Kentaro stands alone in the now-empty classroom.
He picks up his bag and walks out slowly, staring at the floor.
---
EXT. SCHOOL GATE – SUNSET
The sky is orange and fading.
Students leave in groups, chatting about weekend plans, video games, gossip.
Kentaro walks alone.
KENTARO
(whispering sadly to himself)
"I wish I had that charm…
That confidence…
Sometimes I wish superpowers were real.
Maybe then… I could be the main character of something.
Anything."
His voice cracks.
He rubs his eyes with his sleeve, trying not to cry.
---
As he walks, something catches his attention.
A narrow alleyway near the school — pitch black, even though the sun is still setting.
The shadows look unnaturally thick.
Inside, a trash can shakes violently.
Plastic bags spill out, rolling across the ground.
Kentaro freezes.
---
KENTARO
(voice trembling)
"W–Who's there…?"
No answer.
The trash can rattles harder.
He gulps, clutching his bag like a shield.
KENTARO
"If… if you don't reply, I–I'm coming to check!"
He inches forward.
Step.
Step.
Step…
The trash can EXPLODES, sending wrappers, cans, and old newspapers flying everywhere.
Kentaro yelps and falls on his butt.
---
A VOICE (O.S.)
"Ahhh, seriously!?
Who's disturbing me NOW!?"
Kentaro's eyes widen.
The voice echoes from nowhere… yet everywhere.
VOICE (O.S.)
"And it wasn't even a coin…
Just a stupid bottle cap!
Why is my financial luck THIS bad!?"
Kentaro crawls backwards, terrified.
KENTARO
"Wh–Who's speaking!?
I can't see you!"
Silence.
Then—
A soft blue-black-green glow forms above the trash can.
A misty, shapeless figure flickers into existence.
Small, weak-looking.
Barely stable.
VOICE
"So you're a human kid, huh?
And you can't see Yokai?"
KENTARO
(panicking)
"Yo–Y-Yokai!?
As in… ghost!?
Spirit!?
Demon!?
Oh no no no—please don't possess me!
Please!!"
The figure sighs dramatically.
THE FIGURE
"Yeah… definitely a kid.
Hollywood and anime really did destroy our reputation."
The glow intensifies, revealing a small, round ghost with green flame-like eyebrows, a cracked calculator chained to its chest, and a floating receipt roll swirling around him.
He looks… pitiful.
KUROVEN
Ahem.
I am Kuroven, the Forgotten Finance Yokai.
Treasurer of misfortune.
Accountant of despair.
Bankrupt spirit extraordinaire.
He strikes a sad pose.
Kentaro stares, speechless.
…The what!?
Kentaro's heartbeat thudded like a drum in his ears as the strange little voice echoed through the alley.
Kuroven hovered slightly above the ground, his cloudy body shifting like smoke in a breeze. Numbers and symbols flickered rapidly across the glowing glass plate fixed over his face, casting neon streaks over the walls.
"Listen, boy," said Kuroven, crossing his tiny misty arms, "let me clear something up before your imagination runs wild. Yokai aren't what those movies make us. We are spirits of humans whose deaths were incomplete—dreams unfinished, regrets unresolved. And because of that… we linger."
Kentaro leaned in, wide-eyed. "You… linger?"
"Yes," Kuroven sighed dramatically. "But we're not freeloaders. We can form contracts with humans. You give us something, we give you something. In the simplest terms—an exchange."
"A ghost… economy," Kentaro whispered, fascinated.
"A contract," Kuroven corrected. "The bond lasts as long as both parties agree. Could be a day. A year. A lifetime. Depends."
Kentaro's jaw dropped.
"Oooooooooh!"
Kuroven blinked. "Why are you making that noise?"
Kentaro ignored the question. "So you mean… I can technically become a superhero? Like—superpowers?"
Kuroven hesitated. "…Technically, yes."
Kentaro's imagination instantly derailed.
"Wait—you said any service. Does that include…" His voice dropped to a whisper. "Like… being a girlfriend? Or… um… s-s-sexual services too?"
Kuroven's face deadpanned so hard the numbers on his visor froze.
"Unfortunately," he muttered, "yes. The services can be anything."
Kentaro pumped his fist. "Amazing! So—what do you offer?"
Kuroven puffed out his tiny chest. "I am Kuroven, the forgotten Finance Yokai. I can grant abilities related to wealth, calculation, cost-analysis, debt exchange, and a few physical enhancements. Everything connected to value."
Kentaro blinked. "So like… stock-market powers?"
"Among other things." Kuroven nodded proudly. "But in return… you have to replace your human heart with my soul."
Kentaro froze.
"…Replace my WHAT?"
"My soul!" Kuroven repeated cheerfully. "Think of it like a spiritual heart transplant. Totally safe! Probably. Mostly. I've read a book about it once."
Kentaro looked down, then clenched his fist.
All the memories of being ignored, overshadowed, unwanted, rolled through his mind like a storm.
"If that's what it takes…" he whispered, breathing deep. "Then I want to do it."
Kuroven blinked, taken by surprise. "You… actually want to form a contract with me?"
Kentaro nodded with a shy smile. "Yeah. I'd love to."
For a moment, the alley went completely silent.
Then—
"OH MY DEVIL!" Kuroven screamed, doing somersaults in the air. "FINALLY! A HUMAN WHO DOESN'T RUN AWAY! AFTER YEARS OF REJECTION! I'M GETTING A HOST AGAIN!"
"W-wait," Kentaro said, "why were you rejected?"
"Long story," Kuroven muttered. "Humans fear ghosts. And finance."
"…Fair enough."
"So," Kentaro asked, "how do we do this contract thing?"
"Simple!" Kuroven held out a tiny cloudy hand. "Just feed me your blood."
"…H-Hah?"
"Don't be a baby. A drop is enough."
Kentaro swallowed, then steadied himself.
He took a sharp breath, pulled out a small cutter from his backpack—an art tool he always carried—and made a careful cut across his palm.
A single drop of blood slid down.
Kuroven inhaled deeply.
The drop floated in the air… then Kuroven drank it like a thirsty man tasting water after years.
For one heartbeat—nothing.
Then—
A vortex of red, green, and blue light burst outward, swirling around them. The alley trembled. Trash cans rattled. The air thickened with energy.
Kentaro felt something warm slam into his chest—
and then a gentle voice echoed inside his mind.
"Contract completed."
The light faded slowly.
Kentaro gasped and looked down at his hand.
His fingertips buzzed faintly.
"I… I feel a bit stronger," he said. "But I don't feel any powers."
"You won't feel them instantly," Kuroven said—now floating casually beside him, fully visible. "Power requires calculation. Investment. Growth. You'll understand in time."
Kentaro finally got a clear look at him.
Kuroven was no taller than two feet, with a round, misty body like cloud-smoke. His eyes shimmered red, green, and blue, like fluctuating currency charts. His long white hair crackled softly like static, floating weightlessly behind him.
"So I can finally see you?" Kentaro asked in awe.
"Yes," Kuroven replied. "Because now, we're spiritually linked."
Kentaro smiled.
For the first time in his lonely life…
he felt like someone was finally standing beside him.
[TO BE CONTINUED]