[Disclaimer: All elements in my work are entirely fictional. While some concepts may draw loose inspiration from real-world religions, cultural or occult ideas, they do not follow the same beliefs, principles, or practices. This work is not intended to promote, criticize, or misrepresent any religion.
My intention is not to cause offense to any faith or cultural tradition. The story explores ideas influenced by many different cultures rather than representing any single region or belief system.
If any real-world concept appears within the story but is portrayed differently, please understand that it reflects a fictional interpretation created to fit the world of this narrative.
Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy Guardians of the Shining Girls.]
"I killed my parents at the age of eleven…"
"At least, that's what I've been told…"
For as long as I can remember, I've had dark dreams flashes that burn behind my eyes. In them, I'm drowning in blood while staring blankly at their corpses on the couch. My younger stepsister kneels in the hallway behind me, crying.
The only thing I can hear is her sobbing… and the pounding noise inside my head.
Everything else feels distant, like the world has been separated from me by an invisible wall. The blood covering my hands slowly turns into darkness, swallowing me whole and dragging me down into an endless pit.
"INMATE! TIME TO WAKE UP!!!"
The guard slammed his baton against the bars of my special cell.
For the first seven years of my sentence, they treated me like a standard albeit high-risk, ward of the state. I was allowed in the general population.
But then, three years ago, something inside me... shifted.
The guards called it a riot. I remember it as a blackout.
After that day, I was stripped of my books, my jobs, and the sunlight. They dragged me down into the bowels of the facility and threw me into a two-by-two meter concrete box.
No bed. No window. Only metal bars carrying enough electricity to fry a man alive. A small hole in the floor served as a toilet the same place my head rested when I slept. For three years my only human contact was a guard shoving potato salad and bread through a filthy pipe. For protein I ate cockroaches.
Apparently the way my parents died was so brutal, so grotesque, that my only other option would have been a long-drop hanging.
The guard outside my cell grabbed his keys and unlocked the door.
"Your ten-year sentence before death-row is now over."
"Over?"
I spoke in a quiet, dry tone. I've never been hit with such a confusion before, what lay beyond those bars. All I knew was this room and now I can suddenly leave? It felt like something that was beyond comprehension.
"There's been a change of plans."
"You're going to be placed in a room with your probation officer. He'll explain the conditions for your possible release."
The guard walked behind me through the empty, dark halls.
Halls where it felt like the souls of hell itself wandered.
Gray stone walls stretched endlessly in every direction, illuminated only by a few dim lights hanging from the ceiling.
When we reached the room, they pushed me inside and forced me onto a metal chair. Several guards stood around the walls, staring at me like hawks… or like I was an atomic bomb that could explode at any moment.
A man sat across the table from me.
He looked like the kind of American FBI agent you see in movies: clean haircut, sharp suit, emotionless eyes. Several similarly dressed bodyguards stood behind him.
"Good day, Mr. Kamakiri."
"My name is Kubo Yashira. I am your probation officer… and the head prosecutor of G.O.S.S.I.P."
He paused slightly.
"That stands for Guardians Of Systemic Sovereignty and International Protection."
Quite a long, exaggerated name for an international protection organization.
"We have reviewed your profile, along with the academic paths you may be capable of pursuing."
"The highest position we currently see you filling… is as a bodyguard for a Luminary."
"A bodyguard?"
"Your physical profile is exceptional," he said calmly. "A formidable silhouette, deeply etched vascularity, muscles that appear carved from granite."
"You would make an ideal bodyguard."
"A Luminary personally recommended you for the position."
A Luminary?
I had never heard that word before.
I'd like to think I'm not lacking in the intelligence department.Most of my time in solitary was spent working.
Prisoners could take small jobs to earn a tiny amount of yen to spend inside the facility. I usually worked in heavy labor or the car repair shop.
Each completed task paid around twenty yen.
On average, I earned about five hundred yen a day.
It took weeks to gather enough money to buy books.
Books were the only real luxury in solitary confinement.
Most of what I read were educational works—Howard Gardner, Jiddu Krishnamurti, Alfred Jarry, David Hilbert, Neil deGrasse Tyson, and Georg Cantor.
When it came to fiction, however, I preferred horror.
Especially the Cthulhu Mythos series.
I don't particularly like the author.
From what I read, he was a xenophobe… and a racist.
Not to mention the impressive number of racial slurs scattered throughout his books.
I doubt he would be thrilled to see someone with my skin color reading his work.
If he were alive today, I would probably beat the living pulp out of him.
Of course, I'd ask him to sign my books first.
Then I'd beat the living pulp out of him again.
I also enjoyed thrillers and murder mysteries.
Ironic, considering how I ended up in prison.
Maybe I should write my own story someday.
Sell it inside this prison.
Another inmate could spend weeks saving enough money just to buy it.
But then again…
I've been cut off from society for the last ten years.
For all I know, the world outside might as well belong to some Misanthrope.
"What is this Luminary?"
The moment I spoke and shifted even slightly the guards stiffened. Their hands moved toward the guns at their hips, ready to react to the smallest sudden movement.
"Everyone, please calm down," the man said calmly.
"Mr. Kamakiri isn't going anywhere."
He folded his hands on the table.
"Since you've been cut off from the world for the past ten years, I'm not surprised you haven't heard of them."
"They first appeared on the exact same day you were imprisoned."
The same day I was sent to prison?
Could that really be a coincidence?
No… it couldn't be.
I spent ten years buried inside a prison… and now I'm suddenly being offered a job protecting these so-called Luminaries?
"The Luminaries," Kubo continued, "are young women who awakened miraculous abilities."
"Abilities that go far beyond modern science… and far beyond our current understanding of human biology."
"We have studied them extensively."
"We understand what their powers can do… but we still don't understand how they do it."
"How they summon such power… or how they bend the laws of nature itself."
He paused before continuing.
"And because of those abilities, they have become something more than celebrities."
"Idols."
"Symbols."
"Every nation on Earth knows their names."
Famous girls with supernatural powers…
What exactly had the world turned into while I was locked away?
Superpowers like the ones you see in comics or manga always sounded like childish fantasies.
And yet…
According to this man…
They were real.
"Your sister even became one herself."
"My sister…?"
"Yes. In fact, she's the one who recommended you for the job in the first place."
The last time I saw my sister, she was nine years old.
She must be nineteen now.
For a moment, I almost forgot I even had one.
Ever since that incident, my memories have been… fuzzy. As if my life only began the moment it happened.
"So why do these so-called Luminaries need bodyguards if they're all-powerful?"
"Good question," Kubo replied.
"You see, while Luminaries are indeed powerful, their abilities are unstable and completely unpredictable."
"That's why each of them forms a contract with a Guardian more commonly known as a bodyguard."
"A Guardian stabilizes a Luminary's powers through a very deep connection."
"However, very few candidates are capable of forming that contract."
He leaned back slightly in his chair.
"If the synchronization fails… the consequences can be catastrophic."
"Especially for the human involved."
"Their body can literally explode from the power overload."
"So you need me as a human experiment?"
"Exactly."
"What if I refuse?"
Kubo smiled faintly.
"Well, if the procedure succeeds, the benefits are quite generous."
"Five hundred thousand yen per month. Enrollment in a private academy that trains elite Guardians. A fully paid residence, unlimited food, and free travel privileges."
He paused for a moment.
"But if you reject the offer… you'll simply be released onto the streets."
"And let's be honest."
Kubo slowly lowered his black sunglasses, locking eyes with me.
"The chances of a convicted murderer like you being accepted back into society…"
"I find that rather unlikely."
Silence filled the room.
The tension was thick enough to feel.
"Fine."
"I've got nothing to lose anyway."
"Excellent," Kubo replied calmly.
"Thank you for your cooperation. We'll prepare your paperwork immediately."
Warm steam filled the shower room.
Water ran over my body as I rubbed my skin with a bar of soap.
"I can't remember the last time I had a proper shower."
Ten years of isolation…
And now this.
After finishing, I stepped out of the stall with a towel wrapped loosely around my hips.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a mirror above the sink.
I stopped.
Slowly, I turned toward it.
For the first time in ten years…
I saw my own reflection.
"…Was my skin always this dark?"
He hadn't even noticed how tall he had become.
Or how massive his muscles were.
Slowly, he scanned his entire body in the mirror, observing every detail the deep tone of his dark skin, the dense muscles hardened by years of labor, and his long hair that fell down his back like a black curtain.
He leaned forward over the sink, gripping the edges with both hands as he brought his face closer to the mirror.
The eleven-year-old boy he once was had died the moment he stepped into this prison.
That much was obvious.
"I haven't seen my own face for so long…"
He stared into the mirror, meeting the cold emptiness of his own eyes.
They looked like pits that swallowed every trace of emotion.
Years of isolation had worn him down until his face carried nothing but hollow stillness.
Then the memories came.
Sudden.
Violent.
The ones he tried to bury.
The ones that clawed their way back whenever his guard slipped.
Hoshiro's breathing sharpened as sweat rolled down his forehead. He quickly turned the tap and let cold water run into his hands before splashing it across his face.
The chill burned against his skin, but it helped him focus.
Eyes shut tightly, he tried to silence the past.
"Rejoice, Hoshiro…"
His eyes snapped open.
The voice echoing through the bathroom was deep and ancient, resonating like thunder rolling through a cavern. No human voice could sound like that.
Slowly, Hoshiro lifted his gaze toward the mirror again.
His reflection was gone.
In its place stood a creature shaped like a dragon.
Its scales shimmered with layers of darkness, absorbing the light around it. Two burning crimson eyes stared directly into his soul.
Hoshiro froze.
His lips parted slightly the only sign of the confusion rising inside him.
"You again…"
he muttered quietly.
"Is that any way to address a being as essential to existence as myself?"
"It's not really pleasant seeing you again, if that's what you mean."
The dragon blinked in visible shock.
As if it had never been spoken to so casually before.
"How dare you!"
"I am Yin, the very manifestation of nature's balance and the embodiment of primordial ideals themselves!"
"And you treat me like some kind of pest?"
"You're not some kind of pest."
"You're just a pest."
"You've been living inside me for almost a decade and you decide to show your face now?"
"Such insolence!"
The dragon roared, its jaws opening wide.
"You think this has been easy for me as well?"
"Do you know how many restrictions I placed inside your body just to exist within it?"
"21,555,219,192,047,526."
"Restrictions that continue multiplying even now… endlessly."
"After all these years, you've only managed to break one of them."
"The very moment we first met."
"I don't care about any of that."
Hoshiro's voice remained calm.
"It's time for you to keep your end of the deal."
"For letting you live inside me."
The dragon tilted its head slightly, as if recalling something distant.
"Ah… yes."
"The incident with your parents."
"You wished to know the truth about that day."
Yin slowly spread his wings.
They stretched wide, darker than the shadows around them. His scales resembled charred stone, while the plates across his chest carried a dull gray sheen.
"When you are at your weakest," Yin said slowly, "come find me within your own mind."
"And I will tell you everything you want to know about your parents."
Without another word, Yin launched forward.
His massive body passed straight through the mirror.
Through Hoshiro.
Like something diving into water.
The dragon vanished directly into Hoshiro's chest—where his heart lay beating.
Hoshiro staggered slightly.
His breathing grew heavy as he placed a hand over his chest where Yin had entered.
"…One day I'm going to end up in an asylum."
"In a white room."
"Wearing a straitjacket."
Suddenly-
Knock. Knock.
Someone was knocking on the shower room door.
A voice called out from the other side.
"INMATE! STOP FOOLING AROUND AND GET OUT ALREADY!"
It was the same guard who had taken Hoshiro out of his cell earlier. He was now pounding loudly on the shower room door.
Hoshiro hadn't even realized how long he had been standing there.
He quickly began getting dressed.
A white shirt and black jeans.
He gathered the long strands of his hair and tied them behind his head.
A few minutes later, the guards escorted him down the corridor to the release desk.
Hoshiro sat quietly on a bench, still trying to process what had just happened in the bathroom.
Was what he saw real?
And what did Yin mean by "when you are at your weakest"?
"Mr. Kamakiri."
Hoshiro snapped back to reality at the sound of his name.
A man behind the glass window at the desk was calling for him.
Beneath the window, a small metal slot slid open.
Inside were several items:
An identification card.
A wallet.
A stack of yen.
And a phone.
"Here are your belongings," the man said.
"They have all been provided by G.O.S.S.I.P."
"I wish you the best of luck moving forward. Have a nice day."
Moments later, the guards unlocked the prison's main gate.
The massive doors slowly opened.
Sunlight poured in.
The rays touched Hoshiro's skin like the warmth of an old friend.
The air felt fresher than the first sip of water in the morning.
Hoshiro slowly stepped forward.
Outside.
For the first time in ten years.
His eyes drifted upward toward the sky.
Clear.
Blue.
Endless.
It was a beautiful day.
For the first time in his life, Hoshiro felt as if he had stepped into a strange fever dream… instead of the endless nightmare he had been trapped in.
He inhaled deeply through his nose.
Then slowly exhaled through his mouth.
Carefully memorizing the feeling of his first breath of real air in a decade.
"God, that's so good."
That five seconds of breathing felt like heaven.
But the moment of peace didn't last long.
From a distance, a girl suddenly waved her arm high in the air, trying to get his attention.
"HEEEEEYYY!!!!!!!" (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)
"YOU'RE FINALLY HERE AT LAST!!!!!!!!" ⚞(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)⚟
"I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU FOR SO LONG!!"
Before Hoshiro could even react—
She sprinted straight toward him.
Then she jumped.
A split second later, they both crashed onto the ground.
Half of Hoshiro's face was buried directly into her chest as she wrapped her arms tightly behind his head, pulling him closer.
"Oh! I've missed you, missed you, missed you, missed you, missed you, missed you, missed you, missed you, missed you so very, very, very, very, very, very much!!!" (≧ᗜ≦)
I struggled desperately to push her away, but her grip was absurdly strong.
He was practically suffocating.
"Ms. Kamakiri…" Kubo said awkwardly from the side.
"Could you please try not to choke your brother with your… uh… enthusiasm?"
"Wait…"
"Brother…?"
Hoshiro managed to mumble from beneath the crushing pressure.
With a sudden burst of strength, he grabbed her under the arms and lifted her entire body off him as he stood up.
The girl landed lightly on her feet, still smiling brightly.
Her long blue hair, tinted slightly with purple, flowed behind her in the wind.
Her eyes were a clear blue, like the surface of a crystal lake.
She wore an outfit that looked like something straight out of a pop idol concert. A short blue jacket, a crop top exposing her navel, and black shorts with decorative black and purple fabric flowing behind them.
She looked about the same age as Hoshiro.
"It can't be…"
Hoshiro stared at her carefully.
"Come on! It's me, Yoshida! Remember?"
"Your dad and my mom got married when we were both in preschool."
"I used to be scared of the monsters under my bed, and you'd always come comfort me."
"You remember now, right?" (ㆆᴗㆆ)
She gave him a playful wink.
Hoshiro scratched his chin thoughtfully, digging through his memories.
"…"
"Nope. Can't recall."
He casually dropped her.
Thud.
"Ouch!"
"You're so mean, Oni-chan!"
"How could you forget your own sister like that?!"
（＞∧＜）
"Stop calling me that," Hoshiro replied flatly.
"I haven't seen you in over ten years, and I barely remember you."
"If you were really my sister, why didn't you come visit me in prison?"
"For all I know, you could just be some random girl with a strange brother complex."
Yoshida sat on the ground, tearing up.
She seemed far more hurt by his words than by the fall.
(;﹏;)
"Enough, you two."
"It doesn't matter if you think she's your sister or not, you've been appointed to become her guardian either way."
Kubo's stern voice cut through the moment.
A sleek black limousine pulled up beside them.
He opened the passenger door.
"Get in."
"We have somewhere to be."