A pale young boy with pink dishevelled hair woke up lazily in the morning. He weakly got up from his bed, and opened the blinds to the window next to him, allowing a flood of light to fill the room.
It was an eerily dark place, with the walls being painted in black with strange patterns on the side. The only things that decorated the room was a poster of the legendary Don Kanonji, the spirit hero and a desk with a fairly modern PC on top of it.
He stretched as he quickly changed into his local high school uniform, which consisted of a black blazer with a white shirt under it, a checkered blue tie, and grey pants.
After cleaning himself up, he looked in the mirror and saw a fairly handsome man with sharp features, and lustrous but delicate pink hair.
'Lookin sharp!'
He smiled to himself before grabbing his bag and heading out of his room. The lights in the stupidly long hallway were very dim, and the numerous rows of old paintings laying on top of walls designed the same as his bedroom, certainly didn't make the place look any better.
Each painting seemed to depict a man or woman, wearing black clothes that resembled a samurai? Some kind of warrior? But they all lacked swords or even weapons of any kind so he really couldn't tell.
'I'll never get used to walking down here...'
Once he reached the end, he emerged into a large hall with a set of white twisting stairs laid before him, that connected with another merging into one straight line of stairs which lead to the bottom floor. The entire place was rather dead, with the walls also being black with that same pattern, and the lighting being just as dim as the hallway.
He walked down the stairs and once he reached the halfway mark, looked behind him.
Unlike all the other portraits, this one was much bigger as it contained much more people inside. It appeared to be a family of five, with a dark haired healthy looking middle aged man dressed in a suit in at the back, his wife sitting on the chair in a red dress next to him, a little girl who looked only 5 sitting on her lap, a young man on the verge of adulthood, and finally a younger version of himself at the front.
He just sighed at the painting before continuing down the stairs, and hurriedly approached the double wooden doors at the end. Placing his hand on one handle, he was just about to leave, but then a voice wrang behind him from the stairs.
"Hyoma. You forgot to pray."
He slowly turned around only to see a frail old man with grey hairs looking at him from the top of the stairs. He was still wearing that same black and white suit, but time had clearly not been very kind to him.
"Pray? You expect me to pray to that thing? For what? What has it ever done to us, other than split this family apart, father?"
"Your on about this again? Why can't you be more like your older brother? When he was your age he had already started learning our family's magic, and yet here you are refusing your birth right."
"That birth right is a curse. It should die along with you."
Hyoma opened the door, and quickly slammed it behind him as he left the decrepit mansion. Yes.. he lived in a mansion, but despite that it was poorly maintained. Despite how much he pleaded his father, he refused to let anyone come and clean/fix the place for fear of their secrets getting out.
Their garden was just as decrepit as their house, with the large front garden being surrounded by black steel fences, with a rusted gate resting at the front.
The garden itself was horrible, overgrown with thorny bushes and moss which tattered and eroded the cobble stone path way.
Hyoma just continued to walk as he eventually passed by a tree. A voice hiding behind it then called out to him,
"Hyoma? Arguing with father again?"
Hyoma jumped up out of fear before quickly calming down.
"Were you behind there the entire time?? Your already unsociable.. are you a creep as well?"
The voice chuckled a little before stepping out from behind the tree. He had pale skin too but his hair was dark just like his fathers in his prime, which were long bangs that swept to the left, obscuring his left eye. He was wearing a long black, sleeveless leather coat which was open, revealing his black tattoos which covered his body, and even crawled up both his arms.
In his right hand he was leaning on a black steel cane, and in his left was a closed black book he held tightly to his side.
This was Hyoma's older brother, Bashira Suzuko.
"I was just reading of course. The sun is really nice here at this time of the day..."
Hyoma just sighed as he walked on, but Bashira quickly added,
"Make sure you don't stay out for too long. You have been watching the news.. right?"
Hyoma heard him, but he just continued. He quickly exited through the black gates, and started to walk through the mundane town.
Hyoma lived in Roku town, a small city located on the east coast of Japan, further south from Karakura town with a population of around 500,000. It was pretty mundane with nothing special going on inside it, apart from the mysterious... well.. it wasn't a good idea to speak about that.
Hyoma himself was a 16 year old in his 2nd year at Roku high school. As he walked, the streets were filled and crowded as the noise of out of place street sales men, and loud children echoed across the town.
There was a reason for this of course, with the recent incidents pushing everyone out of their homes.
'I hope they resolve this soon..'
He just pushed through and eventually arrived to school, although a little late..