The Producer and the Predator

The silence that followed Kageyama’s appearance was heavier than any sound. Even the arcade machines below seemed to have gone quiet, as if the entire building were holding its breath.

Aoi could feel the tension radiating from Rei — his three silver tails raised, flames crackling around his fists, every muscle in his body drawn taut like a bowstring. She had never seen him this… afraid.

Kageyama climbed the last few steps with slow, measured movements, each footstep echoing with almost hypnotic regularity. He wasn’t in a hurry. Why would he be? He knew they couldn’t run.

“Rei-kun,” he said with casual familiarity, the tone so wrong it sent chills down Aoi’s spine. “How long has it been? Fifty years? Sixty?” He pretended to think. “No, wait. Seventy years since our… disagreement.”

“That wasn’t a disagreement,” Rei spat. “You slaughtered an entire family at the sanctuary. Children, Kageyama. There were children.”

Something dark flickered in Kageyama’s blood-red eyes.

“Necessary sacrifices for our survival.” His voice was neutral, as if he were discussing the weather. “Back then, we were disappearing. The sanctuaries were emptying out. Humans were forgetting us.” He spread his arms. “I simply realized we needed to take what we required instead of begging for scraps.”

“You became a monster that day!” Rei’s voice hardened. “And your experiments on humans? Are those also for ‘survival’?”

His fists clenched, flames crackling more violently around them.
“How many have you already sacrificed?”

Something broke in his voice.
“How many more lives have you ruined just to satisfy your curiosity?”

The silence that followed was heavy — loaded.
Aoi felt something inside it, an old wound, deeply personal.

Kageyama tilted his head, a slow smile stretching across his lips.
“Ah.” His eyes glimmered with amusement. “You’re still thinking about her. After all this time.”

He chuckled.
“Pathetic.”

Kageyama smiled and turned toward Aoi. His red gaze pinned her in place.

“So this is the famous onmyoji.” He took a step closer, studying Aoi the way a collector might inspect a rare artifact. “Mizushima Aoi. Former idol of Starlight. Career destroyed four years ago by a scandal so… conveniently timed.”

Aoi’s blood ran cold.

“It was you.”

“Who can say?” Kageyama shrugged. “But when a young idol grows curious and starts poking her nose into things she shouldn’t see… let’s just say I expedited her downfall. For her own safety, of course.”

Rage erupted in Aoi’s chest — four years of pain, shame, and drifting, all because she’d seen something she wasn’t meant to.

“Why?” The word hissed out of her.

“Because you have onmyoji blood. Latent back then, yes, but present.” Kageyama smiled. “And an active onmyoji in Tokyo is… inconvenient for my business. So I broke you before you could awaken.” He tilted his head. “But our dear friend over here decided to play hero and woke your dormant blood himself.”

Rei growled — a sound no human throat could produce.

“She has nothing to do with our past.”

“On the contrary.” Kageyama stepped aside, forming a triangle between the three of them. “She has everything to do with it. Because you two have now created something… fascinating. A Resonance.” His eyes gleamed. “I can feel it from here. It’s beautiful.”

He turned back to Aoi.

“I’ll make you an offer, Mizushima-san. Just once.” His tone became almost warm. “Join Nova Entertainment. I can give you what Rei never will: control. Stability. Survival.”

“In exchange for what?”

“Oh, nothing terrible.” Kageyama smiled. “Just… don’t interfere with our plans. Let Tokyo follow the script I’ve written for it. And perhaps, from time to time, help me manage a few… complications.”

Aoi felt the weight of his gaze — calculating, patient, absolutely convinced she would accept.

She thought of her career in ruins. Four years in the dark. Everything she had lost.

Then she thought of Rei. Of the yurei they had just harmonized together. Of the feeling of wholeness she had experienced minutes earlier.

“Go to hell.”

Kageyama’s smile didn’t even flicker.

“Pity.”

Rei attacked.

He moved faster than Aoi had ever seen — a silver blur crossing the gap between him and Kageyama in a fraction of a second. His flames exploded into a storm of cold fire, his claws aimed at Kageyama’s throat.

Kageyama didn’t even move.

A blood-red barrier materialized around him. Rei’s flames crashed against it and evaporated like smoke. His claws didn’t even reach the surface.

Then Kageyama moved.

Aoi didn’t see the strike — only Rei being hurled backward, slamming into the opposite wall hard enough to crack the concrete. He collapsed, coughing blood.

“Pathetic.” Kageyama brushed a speck of dust off his suit. “Seventy years, and you’re still this weak, Rei. Still restraining that predatory nature of yours. Still playing the nice guy.”

He walked toward Rei with deliberate slowness. His eyes glowed brighter now, and around him, the air distorted. Aoi could see his true form bleeding through — something massive, canine, terrifying.

An inugami. A divine dog. But not the protective kind from legends. The kind that hunted, killed, devoured.

Rei tried to stand, but Kageyama planted a foot on his chest, pinning him effortlessly.

“Let me give you my farewell gift now. Listen closely,” Kageyama said softly. “I’ve created the perfect conditions. An ōyurei — a yurei king — born from millions of obsessions, hatred, and collective despair.”

He folded his arms, his smile widening.

“In a few days, at the Tokyo Idol Festival, something will be born. Something magnificent. Something terrible.” His eyes gleamed. “And you won’t be able to stop it.”

He leaned forward slightly.

“Nova Entertainment has perfected an elegant system. Modern idols, social media, collective hatred… everything is connected. And at the center of it all…”

He paused.

“…I placed my greatest creation. My masterpiece.”

Before Rei could react, Kageyama raised his hand. Shadowed claws materialized around his fingers.

“Goodbye, old friend.”

“NO!”

Aoi didn’t think. She moved.

Her power erupted — not the controlled golden glow from earlier, but something raw, instinctive, desperate. She threw herself between Rei and Kageyama, hands raised.

The light struck Kageyama full-force.

He staggered back — only a single step — but it was enough. Rei rolled away, freed.

Kageyama stared at Aoi in genuine surprise.

Then he laughed.

“Oh. Oh.” He applauded slowly. “Magnificent. Absolutely magnificent. You just channeled a mid-level purification spell with no training, purely on instinct.” His red eyes gleamed. “The Resonance is stronger than I thought.”

He stepped back, adjusting his suit.

“Very well. I’ll let you live. For now.” His smile sharpened into something predatory. “I want to see how far you and your little onmyoji can go before I break you.”

His eyes glowed even brighter.

“You’re dying to stop me. I can feel it. Pathetic.”

He turned to leave, then paused.

“Oh, and Rei? When the ōyurei emerges at the Tokyo Idol Festival in two weeks, I do hope you’ll entertain me. Don’t let your fragile Resonance burn you out too soon.”

He walked down the stairs with light, unhurried steps.

His presence faded like smoke.

Silence returned.

Rei pushed himself upright with difficulty, a hand pressed to his fractured ribs. Blood dripped from his mouth and nose. His flames had gone out. He looked… small. Diminished.

Aoi fell to her knees beside him.

“Rei…”

“I’m fine.” His voice was rough. “It’ll heal fast.”

Aoi stared at her hands, still trembling from the burst of power she had unleashed. She had pushed Kageyama back — barely, only for an instant — but she had done it.

“We’ll stop him,” she said softly.

Rei looked at her, something between hope and despair flickering in his golden eyes.

“We’re probably going to die.”

“The Resonance is killing us anyway.” Aoi smiled faintly. “A few days more or less won’t change much. But at least we’ll go out together, with our heads held high.”

Rei stared at her for a long moment. Then, slowly, he took her hand.

The Resonance pulsed between them — stronger, warmer, more real than before.

Two weeks.

Two weeks to learn to control a power that was killing them.

Two weeks to find a way to stop a yurei king.

Aoi’s phone vibrated in her pocket.

She pulled it out with trembling fingers. A message from her editor-in-chief:

“EMERGENCY. Idol from Novel Star Entertainment collapsed live on TV. Forget Kagami. Get to the studio. NOW!”

Aoi and Rei exchanged a glance.

It had already begun.

Outside, Tokyo shone with its millions of lights, blissfully unaware of the storm approaching.