Late Night — Kuoh Streets
Ethan's stomach growled loud enough to earn a glare from a stray cat—the only living thing he'd seen in hours.
"Japan. Land of vending machines, no guns, and apparently no damn crime when you need it."
He kicked a loose can down the alley. The clatter echoed too loudly in the cool night air, swallowed by the oppressive quiet of the city.
Hunger gnawed at him—more insistent than any hellfire he'd endured.
No cash. No food. No sleep. Not for days.
Ghost Rider didn't need to eat or rest, but Ethan was still human enough to suffer. Human enough to starve.
The plan had been simple: find the first mugger, beat him down, take his cash, buy food. But tonight, Kuoh was too quiet. Streets empty. Shadows stretched too long. It was as if the town itself was holding its breath.
Neon lights flickered weakly in the distance, too far to matter. Streetlamps buzzed like dying insects. A heavy, suffocating stillness pressed against his chest, as though the city itself wanted to keep its secrets buried under silence.
Then—he rounded a corner and heard it before he saw it. Screams. Wet, bloody. The sound of something tearing meat from bone.
Ethan's eyes began to glow beneath his hood.
"Finally."
---
Alleyway
A man lay slumped against the wall, bleeding out. His breath came in shallow, choking rasps, pooling crimson beneath him.
His attacker wasn't human. A stray devil—big, malformed, with claws like butcher's knives—snarled at Ethan. Its teeth dripped with something black and steaming, breath thick with rot.
Its skin shimmered with an oily sheen, patches of scales and malformed flesh bubbling together like a nightmare made solid.
Ethan sighed. "Always the ugly ones."
The stray devil sneered. "Wow… another meal delivering itself."
Flames flared across Ethan's fist. "I guess I'll have to replace your eyes."
Unimpressed, the devil lunged.
Ethan met it with a punch, but the blow barely staggered the creature. It slammed him into the street with bone-rattling force.
It was strong—strong enough that, in human form, he didn't stand a chance.
The devil's claws raked across his chest, tearing through jacket, skin, and muscle. Pain flared hot, blood spilling freely down his ribs.
He staggered back, clutching his ruined coat.
Fine. A small fire won't cut it. Time to burn.
Ethan dropped to his knees as the change began. Breath hitched—half gasp, half scream—as molten heat roared through his veins. Bones burned beneath his skin.
It wasn't fast. It wasn't clean. His first transformation never would be.
Flesh blackened, cracked, and burned away in agonizing layers. The scent of seared meat curled into the air. Beneath it, bone gleamed white-hot, scoured clean by the hellfire rising from within.
His skull ignited, hollow sockets blazing with hell's fury. Jaws stretched into an eternal, silent snarl. Fire poured from his every breath, licking hungrily at the darkness.
The shadows recoiled. Even the moon slipped behind clouds.
He rose—not as a man, but as vengeance.
The injured man screamed louder at the sight. "Another monster! Somebody help!"
The stray devil froze, unease creeping in. It turned to run.
Too late.
Chains of living fire erupted from Ethan's wrists, coiling around the devil's throat.
Flames followed—hungry, punishing.
The devil writhed and shrieked.
"You," Ethan's voice was inhuman, each word a hammer strike, "are… guilty."
The chain tightened. Hellfire consumed the stray—slowly, cruelly. The alley stank of brimstone and burnt sin.
When it was over, nothing remained but ash and scorch marks.
Ethan stood there, flames licking across his skeletal frame, breathing hard even though he no longer needed to.
"…Shit," he rasped, voice sliding back toward human. "I forgot to take the cash."
The injured man was gone.
He searched for another mark, but the night stayed unnervingly quiet.
A few coins glinted on the ground. He picked them up like a beggar.
He spent the rest of the night wandering, hoping for a thug with a wallet, praying for some miracle—but apparently, the Creator had other plans.
---
By morning, he gave up—exhausted, starving, and still broke.
The church ruins weren't home, but they were shelter. Right now, that was enough.
He cut through the outskirts of town, dragging his feet, bitter and hungry.
That's when he saw her.
A girl in nun's robes. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Out of place in Kuoh's outskirts.
She flinched when she noticed him—bloodstained, smoke curling from his jacket, obviously not safe company.
Her wide, innocent gaze darted between him and the ruined street behind her.
"Um… excuse me… are you from around here?" she asked softly. "I-I'm looking for the church…"
He looked her over. Nun. Catholic. Wrong side of town.
"Yeah. I live there," he said, his voice rough from hunger and blood loss.
"You… live at the church?" Her brow furrowed.
"Sort of. Didn't have anywhere else to go."
They started walking. At first, neither spoke.
Even through his exhaustion, Ethan found himself watching her. Too cute. Too innocent. He wondered if being around him would ruin her.
Her steps were light and hesitant beside his heavy, dragging ones.
He led her through the crumbling doorway, kicked rubble aside, and motioned toward a half-broken pew.
"You a nun, or just lost in cosplay? And what's your name?" His stomach growled halfway through the question.
"I… I'm a sister. Asia Argento." She bowed awkwardly. "I was supposed to meet someone from the Church… but I got separated."
Ethan pulled his last coin from his pocket.
There was a vending machine across the street. Instant ramen. Barely food, but enough.
Minutes later, he returned and handed her the steaming cup. He sat across from her with his own.
The warmth seeped into his hands, feeling almost holy in the ruin.
"Thank you! It must be God's blessing that I met such a kind person as you," she said sweetly.
He snorted. "Maybe. But if God really wants to arrange something, he could arrange me a bag of money."
Asia blinked at him, surprised. "If you need money… I do have some. I don't think God would take the time to arrange it for you."
He looked at her. Cute. Way too cute.
He decided, right there, that he'd protect her. After all, finding a cute nun in an anime world and not keeping her safe would be an actual crime to any otaku.
They ate in silence, slurping noodles in the ruins of something once sacred.
Above them, a bell swayed in the wind and let out a single, broken chime.