Chapter 1

Rain fell over the city unrelenting, drowning Tenshōkyō beneath silver sheets of water and fractured neon light.

Towering skyscrapers vanished into the storm like black monoliths while thunder rolled across the heavens hard enough to rattle windows throughout the capital.

Every screen in the city—from massive digital billboards hanging over intersections to flickering televisions inside crowded apartments—carried the same live broadcast.

"Hello, Tenshōkyō," came a voice as smooth and composed as polished glass.

The camera faded in slowly.

A woman sat behind an obsidian desk beneath the white studio lights, posture flawless, hands folded neatly before her. Her dark hair was tied into a perfect knot, untouched by imperfection, and her crimson eyes reflected the glowing network insignias rotating behind her.

"I'm Mikasa Amane," she said calmly, "and tonight... history may very well be rewritten before our eyes."

Outside the station, crowds stood beneath umbrellas and awnings despite the downpour, watching giant projection screens mounted to nearby buildings. Police drones hovered overhead with cold blue lights cutting through the rain. The city felt tense tonight. Waiting.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Mikasa continued, "introducing the current Minister of Internal Affairs and candidate for Prime Minister of Eios... Masashido Kurozen."

Applause erupted throughout the studio.

The camera shifted toward the man seated across from her.

Masashido Kurozen looked untouched by the chaos outside. His black suit was immaculate, his posture relaxed yet deliberate, every movement controlled with almost unnatural precision. Silver threaded faintly through his dark hair near the temples, giving him an air of maturity that only strengthened his presence. But it was his eyes that held people—calm, intelligent, and unreadably distant.

"Minister Kurozen," Mikasa began, "throughout the past several years, tensions within Eios have only continued to rise. Violence in the lower districts. Economic instability. Increasing distrust in the government. Many people are beginning to lose faith in the future itself."

Lightning flashed beyond the studio windows, illuminating the sprawling skyline behind them.

"If elected Prime Minister... what would you do to change this country?"

Kurozen remained silent for a moment.

Not awkwardly silent.

Deliberately silent.

His gaze drifted toward the rain streaking the glass behind the cameras, as though he were looking beyond the city itself.

"I think people are exhausted," he said at last.

His voice was calm. Gentle even.

"Exhausted from pretending the world isn't broken. Exhausted from waking up every day and treating suffering as though it's something ordinary. We walk past pain so often that eventually... we stop seeing it at all."

The studio quieted.

Outside, thunder cracked through the city.

"We live in a society where people are taught to fear one another before they are ever taught to understand one another," Kurozen continued. "We divide ourselves by status... by blood... by belief... by things people never chose for themselves. Then we act surprised when hatred grows from it."

Mikasa nodded carefully. "So you believe society itself is responsible?"

"I believe humanity created a world where people have forgotten how to see each other as human."

Kurozen folded his hands together.

"Children are raised to believe weakness is shameful. People bury grief until it festers into anger. Governments promise safety while citizens live in fear every single day. We have become so obsessed with maintaining control that we no longer stop to ask what kind of world we are actually creating."

For a moment, the only sound inside the studio was rain against glass.

"I do not believe Eios is beyond redemption," he said quietly. "But I do believe change requires honesty. And the truth is..."

Another flash of lightning illuminated the skyline.

"People are afraid."

The words seemed to settle over the city itself.

"Fear governs society more effectively than laws ever could," Kurozen continued. "And yet humanity refuses to confront the things it should truly fear."

Somewhere within the crowd gathered outside the station, a man suddenly shouted loud enough for nearby microphones to catch him.

"Then what about the Kurai?!"

The crowd stirred instantly.

Unease spread like a ripple through water.

"You talk about fear like it comes from nowhere!" the man yelled again. "People are dying because of them! They're monsters!"

Several people nearby began shouting over each other while cameras turned toward the commotion outside.

Inside the studio, Mikasa looked briefly caught off guard.

Kurozen didn't.

He simply listened.

Calmly.

Rain tapped softly against the windows behind him.

"When people suffer," he said, "they search for something to blame."

His eyes lowered slightly.

"The Kurain are stronger than ordinary humans. They possess abilities many do not understand. For some... that alone is enough to inspire fear."

Thunder rumbled overhead.

"But fear," he said firmly, "does not justify cruelty."

The crowd outside slowly quieted.

"The Kurain laugh. They grieve. They dream about tomorrow just as we do. Many spend their entire lives hiding what they are simply to survive among people who decided long ago they were monsters."

Lightning rippled across the sky again, bathing the studio in pale white for half a second.

"The tragedy of humanity," Kurozen said, now staring directly into the camera, "is not that we fear what is different."

His voice sharpened just slightly.

"It is that we allow that fear to become hatred."

Silence followed.

Heavy silence.

Even the interviewer hesitated before speaking again.

"Then if elected..." Mikasa asked carefully, "what kind of future do you hope to create?"

For the first time that night, something sorrowful crossed Kurozen's face.

"A world where people no longer have to fear one another."

The rain intensified outside, hammering against the city.

"A world where suffering is not inherited by the next generation."

His expression hardened almost imperceptibly.

"And a world where humanity finally learns to confront the darkness within itself... before it consumes us all."

The studio erupted into applause.

Outside, thousands of glowing screens reflected against the rain-soaked streets as people argued, watched, whispered.

Some inspired.

Some furious.

Some afraid.

Kurozen rose from his chair as staff members hurried around him. Security personnel escorted him through the backstage corridors while reporters shouted questions from behind barricades.

"Minister! Minister Kurozen!"

"Do you believe anti-Kurai violence will worsen if you're elected?"

"Sir, what do you say to accusations that your policies favor Kurain citizens over humans?"

Flashbulbs exploded relentlessly.

Kurozen ignored every question.

The rear exit doors opened.

Cold rain and city noise rushed inside immediately.

A long black vehicle waited beyond the barricades while armed security officers held the growing crowd back. Protesters and supporters screamed over one another beneath umbrellas and signs lit by neon advertisements overhead.

SAVE EIOS.

KURAI ARE NOT HUMAN.

KUROZEN FOR PRIME MINISTER.

TRAITOR.

The storm swallowed everything together into noise.

Kurozen entered the vehicle without a word.

The door shut behind him with a heavy thud, muting the chaos outside almost instantly.

Inside, the cabin was quiet.

Warm.

Dimly lit.

A woman sat across from him holding a tablet against her lap. She appeared to be in her late twenties, dressed in a fitted black uniform beneath a long gray coat. Thin silver-rimmed glasses framed sharp observant eyes.

"Very good work as always, sir," she said.

Kurozen loosened his gloves slowly, staring through the rain-covered window.

"Hm."

The attendant studied him for a moment.

"Something seems to be troubling you."

Outside, the city blurred past in streaks of crimson and white.

Kurozen remained silent for several seconds before answering.

"Do you believe society is beyond reformation?"

The question caught her slightly off guard.

"Of course not, sir," she answered carefully. "That has always been your dream. To heal society."

Kurozen's reflection stared back at him through the darkened glass.

"Heal," he repeated softly.

The vehicle passed beneath a massive digital billboard replaying his speech to the city.

People watched from the sidewalks below.

Some cheering.

Others glaring.

His attendant spoke again.

"Public support continues to rise. After tonight, many people will stand behind you."

"Not enough."

His voice had changed.

Subtle.

Colder.

"There will always be people who choose hatred over understanding," he said quietly. "People who cling to fear because it gives them someone to blame."

Lightning flashed across the skyline.

Kurozen's eyes darkened slightly.

"Those people are the infection consuming this world."

The attendant remained silent.

Rain rolled down the windows like blood across glass.

"The corrupt," Kurozen continued, "the ones who poison society... the ones who teach children to hate before they can even think for themselves..."

His fingers tightened slowly against the leather armrest.

"They are the reason this country suffers."

Thunder shook the heavens above Tenshōkyō.

The city lights flickered for half a second.

"And those people," Kurozen said softly, almost to himself, "must be dealt with."

___

Rain hammered the lower sectors of Tenshōkyō without mercy.

Water spilled through broken gutters and flooded the narrow alleyways between overcrowded apartment blocks while neon signs buzzed overhead in fractured colors of crimson and violet. Steam hissed from vents beneath the streets, rising like ghosts into the storm.

A little girl ran through it all barefoot.

Her small feet splashed violently against the pavement as she pushed herself forward through the rain, breathing in terrified, uneven gasps. Torn clothing clung to her thin frame while a paper bag pressed tightly against her chest protected the few pieces of stolen bread hidden inside.

Behind her—

"STOP!"

Two men shoved through the alley after her wearing dark police jackets marked with the insignia of the Internal Security Bureau. Their boots crashed through puddles while drones hovered somewhere above the streets beyond the buildings.

The little girl looked back once.

Wrong decision.

Her foot slipped against the soaked pavement.

She crashed hard into the ground with a cry, the bread spilling from the bag and skidding through filthy rainwater.

The officers caught up immediately.

"Fucking brat."

One of them grabbed her violently by the arm and threw her against the concrete wall hard enough to rattle exposed pipes overhead. The impact knocked the air from her lungs.

The second officer picked up one of the soaked bread rolls from the ground.

"Stealing now, huh?" he sneered. "Piece of Kurain trash."

The girl curled against the wall, trembling.

"I-I was hungry..."

The first officer kicked her across the ribs before she could finish.

Her small scream disappeared beneath the thunder.

"Should've thought about that before stealing."

Another kick.

Then another.

No hesitation.

No restraint.

The rain washed over everything mercilessly.

"Please..." she cried weakly.

The officer grabbed her by the hair.

"You people always play victim."

He raised his fist—

—and something caught his wrist.

Instantly.

Firm.

Unmoving.

The officer blinked.

Looked sideways.

A figure stood beside him silently beneath the rain.

Black hair fell in layered uneven strands around sharp purple eyes that reflected the neon light bleeding through the alley. A metallic black menpō mask covered the lower half of his face, embossed like a demon's jaw with dark purple fangs curling from the mouthpiece.

Rain slid down the polished metal.

He wore sleeveless black clothing soaked against a slim athletic frame, fingerless gloves extending upward into fitted sleeves ending below his forearms. Black tactical pants disappeared into silent combat boots darkened by rain.

A katana rested against his back.

Untouched.

Yet the air around him felt wrong.

Heavy.

Like violence standing perfectly still.

Behind him stood a girl beneath the storm.

Long black hair shifted against her shirt while pale blue eyes studied the officers calmly. Her own metallic mask mirrored his, except the fangs were blue instead of purple. A bow rested across her back beside another sheathed blade.

The alley went quiet except for rain.

The officer yanked against the boy's grip.

"...Who the hell are you?"

The boy released his wrist slowly.

"Leave her alone."

His voice was flat.

Controlled.

The second officer scoffed immediately.

"You'd actually defend Kurain trash?"

The girl beside the masked boy folded her arms.

"That's a little pathetic coming from grown men beating a child."

The first officer rubbed his wrist angrily before studying them more carefully.

Then his expression shifted.

"...Wait."

Lightning flashed overhead.

"You two are shinobi?"

Neither of them answered.

The officer barked out a laugh.

"What a fucking joke." He stepped forward aggressively. "Your era's long dead."

Rainwater rolled from the brim of his cap.

"Get lost before I detain both of you for interfering with official business."

The masked boy didn't move.

"Leave her alone."

The officer's face twisted.

"What was that?"

"I won't tell you again."

Thunder shook the alley.

For a moment, nobody moved.

Then the second officer spat onto the pavement.

"All we gotta do is request authorization and we can kill the girl legally anyway."

The girl behind the masked boy tilted her head slightly.

"Honestly," she said quietly, "people like you make me sick."

The officer laughed.

"Sick? She's a parasite."

"She's an innocent little girl."

"Innocent?" he snapped. "She was stealing food."

"Because she has nothing to eat," the girl replied coldly.

Rain poured harder.

The first officer's patience finally broke.

"I ain't telling you again."

His hand dropped toward the pistol holstered at his side.

"Get lost."

Metal clicked.

The weapon cleared leather.

Immediately the atmosphere changed.

The second officer glanced sideways nervously.

"...Hey boss," he muttered quietly, "I think we should go."

The armed officer didn't look away from the masked pair.

"I don't think these people are messing around."

The man sneered.

"The fuck's that supposed to mean?"

Lightning illuminated the alley in violent white.

The second officer swallowed.

"Look at them."

The rain dripped from Riku's mask in slow streams.

Motionless.

Silent.

Watching.

The armed officer scoffed.

"Does it look like I give a fuck?" He jerked his head toward his partner. "Pull out your gun and stand your ground."

The second officer hesitated.

Midori glanced down toward the device around her wrist briefly as blue light flickered across the rain.

Then she sighed softly.

"Looks like we were granted permission."

The officers froze.

"What—"

Midori looked toward Riku.

"Riku."

"...Yeah."

She nodded toward the little girl trembling against the wall.

"Hey."

The child looked up fearfully.

"Close your eyes, alright?"

The armed officer immediately raised his pistol.

Too slow.

Far too slow.

The sound that followed wasn't a gunshot.

It was metal cutting through flesh.

Clean.

Instant.

The officer screamed.

Both of his hands hit the pavement before the pistol did.

Blood exploded across the alley wall.

The man's eyes widened in incomprehensible horror as he stared at the empty stumps spraying crimson into the rain.

"WHA—"

Riku was already behind him.

His katana glimmered beneath the neon light.

One smooth motion.

One impossible step.

The blade plunged through the officer's chest from behind.

The scream died instantly.

Silence.

Rainwater mixed with blood beneath their feet.

The officer twitched once.

Then went still.

The second policeman stumbled backward in terror.

"H-Hey wait—"

Riku slowly pulled the blade free.

The corpse collapsed into the flooded alley with a heavy splash.

The surviving officer raised both hands immediately.

"Please—please man—I got a family—"

His voice shook violently now.

"I didn't even agree with this shit to begin with—"

Riku stared at him through the demon mask.

Unreadable.

Terrifyingly calm.

Then—

"Get lost."

The officer blinked.

"...W-What?"

"Leave."

The man didn't hesitate again.

"Don't gotta tell me twice!"

He turned and ran blindly into the storm, nearly slipping as he disappeared deeper into the alleyways of Tenshōkyō.

Silence returned.

Only rain remained.

Riku cleaned the blood from his blade with one smooth motion before sliding it back into the sheath across his back.

Then he turned toward the little girl.

Slowly.

Carefully.

So she wouldn't panic.

He crouched in front of her despite the rain soaking through his clothes.

"You can uncover your eyes now."

Tiny trembling hands lowered from her face.

She looked first at the corpse.

Then at Riku.

Fear flickered across her expression.

But not because of him.

Because of what would've happened if he hadn't arrived.

"...You're safe now."

His voice had changed slightly.

Softer.

The girl stared at the purple fangs lining his mask.

Then nodded weakly.

Midori walked over beside them, bow shifting lightly against her back.

"You okay, kid?"

The girl wiped tears from her face slowly.

"...I think so."

Riku glanced toward Midori.

"Thanks."

She smiled faintly beneath the mask.

"Leave it to you to do the right thing."

His eyes drifted toward the dead officer.

"What about the body?"

"Cleanup crew will handle it."

Thunder rolled across the skyline again.

Riku carefully lifted her onto his back.

She was frighteningly light.

As if hunger had hollowed her out from the inside.

Midori watched quietly for a moment.

Then she spoke softly.

"Hey kid."

The girl looked at her.

"What's your name?"

"...Mara."

Her voice was barely above the rain.

"Mara Watanabe."

Midori blinked slightly at the surname but quickly smiled again.

"That's a beautiful name."

Mara looked uncertainly toward Riku.

"...Are you really shinobi?"

Riku adjusted her carefully so she wouldn't slip.

"...Something like that."

The storm continued swallowing the city around them.

Neon lights reflected across flooded pavement.

Sirens echoed somewhere far away.

But for the first time that night—

Mara no longer looked afraid.

Riku stepped forward through the rain.

"You're safe now."