Nemesis

With the afternoon sun beginning to bite, Eiji decided his ride around town had grown stale. He felt the coins from the photography studio jangling in his pocket—just enough for another round of juice and a bit of air conditioning.

He skidded his bike to a halt outside Dream. The neon sign was dark, and the "Closed" notice hung prominently in the window, but Eiji didn't let that stop him. He knew the rhythm of the place. He tried the handle, and to his satisfaction, the heavy door yielded with its signature creak.

Inside, the bar was cloaked in a cool, midday dimness. The familiar scent of polished wood and faint citrus greeted him, but the usual presence of Hayato behind the counter was missing.

"Hello?" Eiji called out, scanning the empty stools.

Then, he saw her.

Peering over the edge of a booth was a pair of wide, startled eyes. A little girl with short, light brown hair and a distinct mole just beside her lip was staring at him like he was a ghost. For a heartbeat, they just locked eyes in a silent standoff.

Then, she bolted.

She scrambled toward the back room with the frantic energy of a startled rabbit.

"Who was that?" Eiji muttered, stepping further into the room.

From behind the curtain of the staff area, a small, high-pitched voice echoed.

"Nii-san! There’s someone at the door... a boy!"

"The door? But I told you to keep it—"

Hayato emerged from the backroom, looking slightly disheveled. The little girl was attached to his leg like a piece of industrial-strength velcro, hiding half her face behind his apron.

"Oh. Eiji! It’s just you," Hayato exhaled, the tension leaving his shoulders. "What’s up, kid?"

"Yo, Hayato," Eiji gave his usual nonchalant wave.

"What brings you by? We aren't technically open yet."

"I was wondering if I could hide from the sun for a bit. And maybe grab a juice?"

Hayato chuckled, already reaching for a crate of fresh oranges. "Seat's free, isn't it? Go on, hop up. One juice, coming right up."

"Thanks." Eiji climbed onto his favorite stool, the leather cool against his legs.

"Uhm..." A muffled voice drifted up from floor level. "Nii-san... who is that?"

"Oh, right. Manners," Hayato said, masterfully slicing an orange in mid-air. "Eiji, this is Yume, my little sister. Yume, this is Eiji. He’s a regular—mostly because he has nowhere else to go."

"Oi!" Eiji protested, though he didn't deny it.

A heavy silence fell over the bar. The only sound was the rhythmic thump-squish of Hayato’s manual juicer.

"Ahem!" Hayato prompted, nudging his sister with his knee. "Yume is a year younger than you, Eiji, so try to be a good influence. Go on, Yume, say hi. He won't bite. Probably."

“Don’t say probably…” Eiji sighed.

Hesitantly, the girl detached herself from Hayato’s leg. She rounded the counter with tiny, uncertain steps and stopped a few feet away from Eiji. She squeezed her eyes shut and bowed so deeply her forehead nearly hit her knees.

"N-Nice to meetchoo!"

"Meetchoo?" Eiji repeated, blinking.

The girl’s face turned a shade of red that rivaled the cloak Eiji had seen the night prior. Without a word, she spun around and sprinted back to her brother’s side, hiding behind the counter once more.

"Heh, she’s a little shy," Hayato said with a wry smile, sliding a tall glass of chilled orange juice toward Eiji. "And one for you, too, Yume." He handed a smaller glass to the girl currently hyperventilating near his feet.

"Uh-huh." Eiji took a long, refreshing sip. The cold liquid was a godsend. "By the way, I saw Shig just now."

"Shig? You mean Shigeru?"

"Yep. Near the park."

"What?!" Hayato’s hand froze on the juicer. "That idiot! I sent him to the convenience store three hours ago!"

"Three hours ago?" Eiji raised an eyebrow. "I saw him not too long ago. He said he was going to feed the pigeons."

"Man, how difficult is it to just grab a few lightbulbs and come back..." Hayato sighed, leaning his weight against the counter and rubbing his temples. Suddenly, his eyes snapped wide. "Wait! You don't think he made off with the cash, do you?"

"How much did you give him?"

"Ten thousand yen..."

Eiji stared at the juice in his glass, then back at Hayato’s panicked face.

"I don’t think anyone can start a new life on ten thousand yen, Hayato.”

“What about a modest new life?”

“I think he’s probably just... lost in his own world."

"His own world is going to get him fired," Hayato groaned.

⌁◉⌁

After spending—or more accurately, wasting—the afternoon drifting through the neighborhood, Eiji finally turned his bike toward home. He had a schedule to keep: a visit to his mother at the hospital, and then the party.

It was strange. He was about to celebrate his third birthday since moving in with them, yet the life he had led with just his mother and sister felt like ancient history. This was his home now. This weird, makeshift "family" of an exhausted sister and a blonde, cigarette-smoking officer actually worked.

He patted the envelope in his pocket. He’d snuck a peek at the photos earlier and winced. He’d always hated pictures; he thought he looked mean, or maybe just wasn’t photogenic. But when Hifumi suggested it, he couldn't say no. He didn't have photos with his mother, and certainly none with the father who had vanished. This was all he had.

As he pulled up to the house, he noticed something off. The front door was slightly ajar.

"Pfft,"

Eiji scoffed, propping his bike up. Some surprise. They were probably waiting just inside to jump out at him, but leaving the door open in this neighborhood was a stretch. What if a stranger walked in? Or worse, that red-cloaked thing from the night before?

He pushed the door open.

The living room was shrouded in total darkness. The shutters were drawn tight, the only light cutting through the gloom coming from the open doorway behind him.

"Nee-san? Asahi?"

No answer. In the shadows, he could just make out the colorful blur of balloons on the kitchen counter. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, EIJI! they screamed in silent, cheerful letters.

Eiji reached for the light switch, his heart beginning a slow, heavy thud against his ribs. The light flickered on.

Splash.

He stepped forward, and his shoe hit a puddle. It wasn't sticky, just... wet. He looked down, and the world tilted.

A dark, crimson tide was spreading across the floor—the floor Hifumi worked so hard to keep spotless. Following the trail with a trembling gaze, his eyes snagged on something small and white resting in the red.

A playing card. Stained. The Jack of Hearts.

Then, he saw the rest.

A tall, well-built man was sprawled in the center of the room. He was face down in a pool of that same red liquid, his blonde hair matted and dark.

"Asahi...?" Eiji’s voice was a broken whisper. The man didn't move. He wasn't breathing. He couldn't breathe like that.

"E...eiji...?"

The sound was a ragged, pained exhale. Eiji’s head spun so violently he thought his eyes would burst. He turned toward the sound. There, slumped against the wall, was his sister. Her blue summer dress was soaked through with crimson. Her neck was purpling with horrific strangle marks.

"Nee-san!"

Eiji dashed through the red, kneeling beside her. Her eyes were hollow, struggling to find his face.

"Nee-san! What happened?! What’s going on?!" Eiji panicked, his hands hovering over her, afraid to touch and break what was left.

"Is... Asahi...?"

"I don't know! He’s just lying there and I—!" Eiji’s breathing came in jagged, useless gulps. "Nee-san! What should I do? Please, tell me what to do!"

Hifumi reached out, her palm cold and trembling as she pressed it against his cheek. A faint, tragic smile touched her lips. "Eiji... I’m sorry."

"What are you saying?! Why are you sorry?! You—“

Tears blurred his vision, but he could see the light receding from her hazel eyes—those jewel-like eyes that had always looked at him with so much stubborn love.

"Don't..." she wheezed, her strength failing.

"Nee-san, please tell me—!"

"...waste... your life."

Her hand slipped, falling limply to the floor and leaving a streak of red across Eiji’s face—a marker of her blood that was instantly washed away by his tears.

“…Nee-san?"

No answer. The glow was gone. Stolen unfathomably abrupt

"NEE-SAN!"

Eiji rocked her body, a guttural sob tearing from his throat. He turned to scream for Asahi, but movement caught his eye. A shadow lunged from the darkness with impossible speed.

“GAH!”

Eiji hit the wall with a bone-shattering crack. A hand like a vice clamped around his throat, pinning him upward. The figure was a void of solid black, silhouetted against the light of the hallway. The only features were the eyes—two burning coals of sulfurous red.

As the life began to squeeze out of him, Eiji’s blurry gaze swept the room. He saw his home. He saw the people he loved. He saw everything this monster had turned to ash.

I'm not special…

He thought as his vision darkened.

I'm just going to die here.

NO.

The voice he had just heard filled his mind. The voice of his sister. Her last words.

Don't waste your life.

If he died here, this monster would go unpunished. If he died here, Hifumi and Asahi would have died for nothing.

I… I can’t let that happen!

A sensation like liquid fire flooded Eiji’s brain. A numbing, tectonic surge of pure, unadulterated rage. His own eyes felt like they were catching fire. He gritted his teeth, the blood in his veins boiling.

How could you? HOW COULD YOU?!

His hands gripped the arms of his assailant as hard as humanely possible. Streaks and flickers of red danced around his fingers.

I’ll… I’ll—

The figure tossed Eiji away with a thud, but the young boy sucked in all the oxygen he could.

"HAAAA!"

Eiji collapsed to the floor, gasping for air as the surge evaporated as quickly as it had come. His mind was delirious but he still looked around for the assailant.

Gone…

The figure had vanished into the shadows, leaving him alone with the dead.

His eyes fell on another card near his hand. The Jack of Hearts.

He picked it up wordlessly, eyes vacant.

Was this a clue…? It had to be.

Eiji couldn’t think. He didn’t want to.

He didn't move when the sirens started. He didn't move when the blue and red lights began to dance against the walls. He was a statue as the officers rushed in.

"Dead..." someone whispered.

Dead?

Eiji thought.

No. It’s time for my party. Asahi is supposed to make a bad joke. Hifumi is supposed to scold us for eating too fast.

They can’t be dead. They can’t—

"Hey, the kid is alive!"

Eiji felt himself being carried out. He didn't protest. He just stared at the house until it disappeared. If I close my eyes, he told himself, I’ll wake up to her voice telling me dinner is ready.

And so, he closed them.

⌁◉⌁

Darkness. Not the darkness of a room, but an endless, prowling army of shadows.

"Kanzaki Eiji."

A hoarse, distorted voice vibrated through the black, echoing directly inside his skull. Eiji didn't respond. His eyes remained hollow.

"Your soul belongs to me. It has for eleven long years.”

The voice didn't care for a conversation. It was a statement of fact.

"Will you walk the path you must… or stay here forever?"

Eiji’s mind was numb. What was left to live for?

"There is a great sense of hatred within you. Pure, unrivaled rage. Do you not wish to have... your revenge?"

Revenge.

The word clicked. A gear turned in the void of his chest. The monster. The Jack of Hearts. The man who had ended three lives before they could even truly begin.

“In order to achieve it, you’ll need the power only I can bestow upon you.”

Power… the power to fight that monster head on…

"I need it..." Eiji rasped.

"Very well. Your Shikigami shall inform you of the rest. Until then, tread carefully... Exorcist."

Eiji drew in a breath that felt like cold iron. He looked at his small, trembling palms—the hands that would eventually close around the throat of his enemy. One day for certain.

"Nee-san... Asahi..."

The fire in his eyes returned, colder this time.

"I will find whoever did this. And when I do… I will have our revenge."

- PROLOGUE END -