The rain had stopped, leaving the streets of Hoshino City slick and shining beneath the streetlamps. The air smelled faintly of wet asphalt, and puddles reflected the neon signs, their colors rippling as if the city itself were alive. Inside the police precinct, Ryozen stood before the chief, the faint glow of his mandala rings casting soft streaks across the walls. In his hand rested a small, sealed black object — humming faintly, almost imperceptibly, as if aware of its rightful owner.
"Chief," Ryozen said quietly, "I'm going to meet Akira Kurogane."
The room fell silent. One of the younger officers hesitated, glancing at the dark object in Ryozen's hand.
"Sir… at least let us come with you?"
Ryozen's gaze was steady, unyielding.
"No. I'll go alone."
The chief nodded slowly.
"Be careful."
"Careful… doesn't change fate," Ryozen replied, his voice calm yet carrying an unshakable weight.
He turned and walked out of the station, the black object faintly vibrating in his hand. Shadows from the streetlamps seemed to stretch toward him as he passed, as if sensing the presence of something beyond ordinary understanding.
---
The train slid smoothly through the night. Akira and Ren sat side by side, their faces dimly lit by the overhead lights. Akira's hand hovered near the black object in his pocket, the faint glow of his mark pulsing underneath like a heartbeat.
"That thing… it's still with you?" Ren asked, his voice curious, eyes flicking to the faint shimmer beneath Akira's sleeve.
"Yeah," Akira replied. "But it's dangerous. I don't even know what it is."
Ren leaned back, curiosity and excitement dancing in his gaze.
"Dangerous? Now I have to see it."
Akira's eyes narrowed, a subtle tension stiffening his posture.
"I'm serious. It came from me. The mark on my hand… it burned when it appeared. I don't want anyone else near it."
Ren smirked, unconcerned.
"You mean me. Don't worry — I can handle it."
The train slowed as the station neared. The air was cool against their skin as they stepped onto the wet platform.
"So… home first?" Ren asked.
"Yeah," Akira replied, hesitant. "I'll keep it sealed. Please, just go home."
"No way," Ren said firmly. "I've never seen anything like this before. Today, we settle it."
The walk was tense, punctuated by flickering neon signs reflecting on puddles. Akira's steps were careful, but his eyes kept darting to the object's faint glow in his pocket. Ren's insistence was unyielding, his shadow stretching unnaturally long across the wet street.
---
When they arrived at Akira's house, the quiet of the small corner street was comforting — yet both boys knew it wouldn't last. Inside the room, Ren immediately began searching, eyes scanning every corner.
"Where is the object?" he asked, voice sharp with curiosity.
"Don't touch it," Akira warned, his fingers tightening around his coat pocket.
But Ren ignored him, locating the object and a small blade. A single drop of blood fell onto its black surface. They waited…
Nothing. The object remained still, its black surface absorbing the dim lamplight like liquid shadow.
"See? Nothing happens," Ren said, shrugging, a small spark of relief flickering across his face. "You're overthinking it."
Akira let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"Guess… yeah."
Ren placed the object back and headed for the door.
"Sleep well, Akira. Don't stare at that thing too long, or you'll start dreaming about it."
Akira watched him leave, then finally reached out to hold the object himself. The faint hum in his hand seemed to resonate with his mark. The room was still, the shadows stretching and twisting subtly as if alive.
---
A sharp knock echoed through the quiet. Three measured knocks.
Akira opened the door to see a tall man in a dark coat, calm and unreadable, eyes like steel.
"Akira Kurogane?"
"Yes… who are you?"
"Ryozen. Special Investigations. I'd like to ask you about the railway station murder."
Akira stepped aside, motioning him in. The man's eyes scanned the room, lingering on the black object on the desk, noting its faint pulse. He listened patiently as Akira explained the events.
Then, Ryozen tossed the object to Akira, who caught it instinctively.
"Have you seen this before?"
"No… I don't know anything about it," Akira replied, tension still lingering in his posture.
Ryozen's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile.
"I see. Thank you for your report. If you remember anything, contact me."
He placed a small card on the desk, engraved with a circular symbol — the Wheel of Samsara.
"Call me if… the night feels different," he said, turning to leave.
In a whisper that only the shadows could hear:
"I have a feeling you'll be calling me very soon, Akira Kurogane."
---
Ryozen left. The door clicked shut, leaving the room in silence. The shadows in the corners of the room seemed to stretch slightly, responding to a disturbance far beyond mortal perception.
Far beyond the human world, in the Shadow World, a throne carved from black stone trembled. A figure sat upon it, imposing, surrounded by darkness that twisted like liquid smoke. Shadows bowed before him, kneeling and trembling.
"Forgive me, Master… this will not happen again," one whispered.
The figure rose. His gaze fell on the kneeling shadow — the one that had failed when Akira escaped. Anger ignited within him like a storm, black flames licking the edges of the void.
The shadow screamed, then vanished entirely, consumed by his wrath.
The ground beneath him cracked. A force erupted outward, shaking the realm to its core.
"I will end this…" he growled, voice like grinding stone.
He whispered into the void, a secret carried only by the darkness itself:
"If the Master knows… it will be my end."
Even the shadows trembled. Something unprecedented was awakening.