The city of he lived in currently was a stark contrast to the blood-soaked battlefields Raito Yakamura once called home. The distant wail of sirens, the murmurs of late-night pedestrians, and the soft hum of life carried on without a single concern for the nightmares that plagued him. A mercenary who had once carved his name into the business with his skills, he had now chosen peace or at least, something that resembled it.
Raito exhaled a long breath, leaning against the railing of his small apartment balcony. His dark eyes, hardened by war, scanned the streets below. Civilians walked by, lost in their own trivial struggles. A man arguing with his girlfriend, a group of students laughing over something meaningless—normal, mundane things. Things that should have comforted him.
But they didn't.
In order to calm his mind he wandered to a nearby shrine where there was nothing but him however it was no use
The bloodlust still boiled beneath his skin, clawing at his mind like a beast deprived of its hunt. His body had been trained for execution, his instincts sharpened like a blade designed only to kill. And though he had left the battlefield, the battlefield had never left him.
He closed his eyes. The scent of blood, the sensation of a blade slicing through flesh, the gasps of dying men
His fingers curled around the railing, knuckles turning white. Damn it. He had hoped it would fade, that time would dull his thirst for violence. But the itch only grew worse.
And then he heard it—a whisper.
Why do you deny yourself, Yakamura?
His eyes snapped open. The voice wasn't real. It couldn't be.
But the sensation that followed was undeniable. A dark presence slithered into the air around him, curling like a shadow under the pale glow of the streetlights. The hairs on his neck stood on end. Every instinct screamed danger, but instead of fear, something inside him stirred with… anticipation.
You crave the hunt. You miss the thrill. The kill.
Raito's heartbeat slowed. He knew better than to believe in ghosts or demons, but this was different. It was tangible. The darkness seemed to breathe around him, unseen yet suffocating.
"Who are you?" His voice came out calm, controlled, as if he weren't speaking to an unknown force lurking in his very soul.
I am what you've been seeking. What you refuse to accept.
A slow expression of curiosity crept onto Raito's face. This should have terrified him, however, he was excited by the mere chance that he could get what he wants.
"Well... What are you suggesting"
And in the darkness, a monster smiled.