Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Not for the first time, Mouri Shin found himself staring at the moon, hanging low and close enough in the sky of this dream world that he could almost feel the light from it, shining a brilliant but disconcerting white. Blinking and lowering his gaze, he found himself looking out across a vast body of mirror-like water, a haze at the far edges of the endless expanse. And indeed, it was endless; he knew this dream quite well by now, well enough to know that there was nothing beyond the fog, because not matter how long or how far he walked, he could never reach it. This lake, this ocean, this whatever it was, went on and on for eternity – or at least, went on for as long as he’d tried to cross it. There was only one way he’d found in all his attempts to escape, and that was to wake up. And in order to wake up…

He shuddered. That was the worst part of this dream – or rather, this nightmare.

It was then that the echoing whispers began, coming from all around and yet, with no source to be found. He took a deep, resigned breath, and slowly turned to look over his shoulder; the certainty of what waited did nothing to diminish the dread as he caught glimpse of the figure that he had known would be there, standing in the same place as She always had, time before and time again. The Pale Lady, statuesque and impossibly radiant with the same silver-white light as the moon hanging in the sky; her ethereal glow rendering it impossible for him to make out any real detail of her aside from the billow of her dress skirt and hair, which was styled in a twintails which were long enough to reach to the ground and trail a ways behind her. Suddenly – though not unexpectedly – she pivoted to face him, bringing into full view the gleaming golden crescent mark upon her forehead, and her eyes of brilliant, cold silver.

No matter how many times he’d been through it, the feeling of her gaze falling upon him brought a chill he could not fully describe; not simply fear, but a sort of… rapture. There was something deeply discomforting, yet enthralling about this woman; further, a familiarity beyond the dream’s recurrence. He felt as if he knew this figure somehow, from somewhere in the waking world… But from where, he could not recall. He swallowed dryly around the lump in his throat; this was the easy part. What came next, on the other hand…

He closed his eyes in a long, hesitant blink, knowing what awaited him once he opened his eyes, and took a handful of shallow breaths, dreading the scant few seconds it would last. But… it was the only way. Such was the routine of this dream.

Gathering what composure he could, Shin snapped his eyes open and found himself nearly blinded by the figure’s brilliant glow, her face inches from his and her silver eyes reflecting his own, terrified expression like mirrors. The whispering grew louder, furious, and frenzied, and he did his best to just ignore it, knowing by now that covering his ears would do nothing as this, after all, was still just a dream, all in his head… And yet it felt so much more than that. That the whispers weren’t simply distortions of memory in his sleeping mind’s eye; he could not explain it, yet they felt as if they were something rooted far deeper, something far more real than that.

Shin collapsed to his knees, senses overwhelmed as the light and whispers grew ever brighter, ever louder, the moon itself seeming to grow bigger and closer and somehow acting like a crushing weight. In the reflection of the water, he could see the figure, her aura now inseparable from the glow of the moon’s, cold eyes staring at him – or perhaps, through him. He shut his eyes again, whimpering as the weight of the cosmos seemed to bear down on his back until he could take no more, and he cried out, eyes flying open again.

To his horror, tonight seemed to bring a new twist. Rather than waking up, as he normally did around now, he found himself still quite far from his room indeed; the scenery around him seemed to melt and shift and twist, as if he were standing amidst footage playing on a burning film projector. In quick succession, or more like all at once, he was in the nave of a grand cathedral, surrounded by statues whose shapes and faces seemed utterly alien; in the garden of his family’s home in Hagi, carefully selecting a branch from the yanagi tree for an arrangement; swimming through a dark, flooded cavern, the only light being the dying beam of his flashlight and something on the surface in the distance; on a field bathed in a deep purple haze under an impossible black sun, surrounded by bodies he felt like he knew but could not identify; And finally, standing amidst a ruined city, whose architecture he could not recognize – but was absolutely certain was impossible, even here in a dream – watching as chunks of rock and debris suspended mid-air floated past him.

<<But if you were given same choice…>>

Shin spun around and found himself facing another figure, this one a faintly human-shaped frame silhouetted against a bright light. He held his hands to his eyes, trying to block and focus in the glare, and he could just make out that it wearing a suit of strange, silver armor. Suddenly it took a step toward him, raising an outstretched arm to him.

<<Would you have made the same decision?>>

The armored figure’s hand turned over, and its fingers uncurled from around…

Shin gasped, feeling his heart pounding in his chest as he glanced wildly around at his surroundings, settling down as he registered that he was, in fact, in his room, in his apartment, presumably in the same building in Azabu-Juban that he’d been living in for what was now three years. And yet, in a first, he found himself lying not on his bed, but on the floor, the blanket still tangled around his foot and hanging halfway over the edge. With a grunt he sat up and turned to look at the clock on his nightstand, shook his head as he registered the time – seven minutes after two – and grabbed his phone from next to the clock, flipping it open and hitting the one person on speed dial who’d still be awake at this hour.

One ring… two rings…

Suddenly overcome by how utterly stupid the entire situation would sound, Shin snapped the phone shut and pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. There was no need to bother anyone right now; he’d just wait until tomorrow. Or rather, later today. It was just a bad dream, after all. One that’d kept happening what felt like every other night since he’d gotten back from Hagi after performing the old rite and…

“Tea…” Shin sighed, pushing up off the floor and dropping the phone back on the nightstand. A cup of tea at two in the morning wasn’t normally something he’d consider, but aside from a good swim, it was the only thing he knew would calm down with on a night like this, and while a late-night swim would make him seem crazy, a cup of tea would attract far less attention. Yes, a cup of tea sounded like a lovely idea at the moment, he decided as he stood and groggily made his way out the door, into the kitchen.

Sighing, Shin squatted down, gathering the daily avalanche of envelopes and occasional loose pages that had poured out onto his feet as soon as he’d opened his locker.

“Oh, to be so popular…” Touma snickered while towering over Shin, half-ironed uniform carrying more wrinkles than some of the pages in Shin’s hands. Hashiba Touma was an underachieving second year, who arrived at Juban Public Middle School the year prior with no friends, no connections, and even less motivation – which manifested as “only” scoring at worst fourth on every test and exam that crossed his desk. Tall for his age with a head of short, somewhat spikey blue hair, and still carrying a heavy Osakan accent despite being two years removed from his home city, even while keeping a low profile he stood out. Further, his parents had divorced some time ago; his father, a professor whose field he never felt like mentioning, and his mother, a reporter for one of the larger news organizations in the country. All of this added up to someone with more allowance money than some people made working a part-time job, and he was used to coming home to a dark house. Shin wasn’t sure, exactly, how they became friends, only that one day they just kind of were and neither of them felt like contesting it – despite the fact that they often spent more time sniping at each other than doing anything genuinely friendly.

“Are you just going to stand there or-” Shin paused mid-remark, trying to restrain a yawn. “Or are you going to help?”

Three years now and the morning routine had hardly changed. Every day, without fail, Shin would open his locker, and every day, without fail, a deluge of letters would pour out as if a pipe had burst, and every day, Shin would gather them up and stuff them back in to be collected at the end of the day; the only change being that, after dealing with it on his lonesome for the first year, Touma entered the school and had made it part of his own routine to watch, laugh, and occasionally assist if he happened to be feeling particularly gracious that day.

There couldn’t be this many girls in school, Shin had told himself more than once; it had to be some kind of prank. And yet since the day he set foot in Juban Public Middle School, this is how it had been; even when he tried to keep a low profile the year previous by joining the kyu-do team for a term, the letters still poured in, and in fact the club president had been baffled at the sudden boost in attendance for their competitions.

“What do you even do with all of those anyway?” Touma asked while Shin swapped out his shoes. “You don’t actually respond to all of them, right?”

“The signed ones, I do.” Shin sighed, pulling off one of the shoes and checking it, finding yet another envelope crammed inside. “Can’t exactly write back to someone if I don’t know who wrote to me to begin with...” Shin mumbled as he turned the correspondence over, checking for any indication of its sender while balancing on one foot, bag tucked under his arm and trying to get his shoe on. Then came a yawn that could not have picked a worse time to hit; he lost his balance, stumbled, and came within an inch of faceplanting into the lockers when Touma caught him.

“You know,” Touma grunted as he pulled Shin back to his feet, “I’ve got an extra can of Boss in my bag if you…”

“When have you ever seen me-” Shin’s protest was caught off by another yawn as they walked away from the lockers, “drink coffee?” Shin felt Touma watch as he yawned again, this one much more drawn out and nearly catching in his throat, resulting in an unpleasant mixture of coughing and yawning.

“Dunno, but maybe you should start.” The blue-haired boy said, stepping ahead and giving Shin a playful rap to the ribs. “You know how dreadful you are if you don’t get your full eight hours.”

“And you’re a pain even if you’ve had your full twenty.” Shin answered, giving Touma an equally good-natured flick on the forehead. “Besides, I wouldn’t dare deprive you of your emergency caffeine boost.”

Touma grunted and massaged the spot while Shin walked on. “What’s got you up anyway? You’ve been like this for over nearly a month and it’s starting to show.”

 “So I’ve missed out on some sleep, it’s not that bad.”

“Shall I break out the numbers from your last few games? Because you know I will break out the numbers.”

Shin scoffed with a half-cocked smile as he shifted the bag on his shoulder. “Come on, how bad can it possibly be?”

“Your shot percentage is sitting at about 50% at the free-throw, and you’re down an average of five points per game in the last two weeks.”

Shin came to a full stop in front of a utility closet, feeling like he had just taken a baseball bat to his knees. “Okay, so it is that bad...”

Touma scratched under his scruffy blue locks and gruntled an agreement, and Shin sighed and hung his head; he should have known better than to argue with Touma once he threatened math.

“Alright,” he began, “So I guess the thing is-” he cut himself off as a trio of underclass girls passed by, chattering about something or other; he waited, watching until he was certain they were out of earshot. “Meet me at lunch, it’s…”

Touma held up a hand, shrugging. “Say no more, I’ll see you at the usual spot then,” he clapped Shin on the shoulder and began to walk off, calling back: “Hope you like egg salad.”

“You can’t just live off of conbini sandwiches, Touma!” Shin called after him, getting a wave in response. Shin dropped his shoulders and growled in exasperation, taking a moment to process his frustration before turning and walking off to his own homeroom.

Morning classes passed more or less as usual, though once again the English instructor had put him in a reading pair with Kuroki-san. As usual, the girl managed to turn every interaction – and every assignment – into an excuse to flirt despite his constant turning her down, in and out of class. Even still, it was nothing too far outside of routine, and by the time classes had ended for the lunch period, Shin had all but let the reason for his exhaustion all but settle into some neglected corner of his mind… until a yawn caught in his throat as he was descending the stairs from the third floor, foot half-off the step, sending him into a slide down four stairs before he caught himself and came to a hard landing on his rear at the foot of the staircase.

“Geeze, Shin-chan,” the familiar voice that brought to mind blonde pigtails and the temperament and coordination of an excited puppy chimed, “I thought I was supposed to be the clumsy one.”

“Ah, Usagi-chan… Good morning.” Shin groaned, massaging the small of his back as he pulled himself back to his feet; that was definitely going to leave a bruise. “You’re in a good mood today.”

Tsukino Usagi grinned as she offered a hand, which Shin gratefully accepted as he got to his feet. “It’s Friday and they just got the new Sailor V game at Crown! I’m gonna spend all weekend breaking it in!” She exclaimed as she dug her phone out of her bag and flipped it open, taking a second to pull up a page on the browser before she shoved the device into Shin’s face, the half-dozen phone charms dangling from the corner rattling with each motion. “See?”

Shin, for lack of any other choice, took a look at the screen; it was, sure enough, an announcement posted on Arcade Crown’s blog, featuring a gallery of the newly-arrived machines, each one presented by arcade employee – and personal semi-acquaintance – Furuhata Motoki, in the same manner a game show hostess would a prize.

“Well, if that’s what gets you out of bed at a half-decent hour…” Shin chuffed with a light shrug and began walking off; Usagi tagged along, nodding excitedly as she shoved her phone back into her bag.

 “You should come with us!” she said, practically vibrating with excitement. “It’s gonna be me, Naru, and-”

Shin gave a half-smile, and shook his head. “Sorry, Usachan, but I’ll have to take a rain check. I’ve got work tonight, basketball practice tomorrow, chores, studying, and if I’m particularly unlucky, I’ll get called in to work again on top of tha-ah,” He yawned again, couching this one inside his elbow, and continued. “And I need to buckle down on studying, high school entry practice exams start next term and I want to get as much of a lead as I can, especially if I’m going to stay in Tokyo.”

“Psssh, you’ll be fine, that’s not for months and besides, I’ve never seen you fail at anything.” Usagi shrugged and threw her hands behind her head and leaned into them, “Although you should probably add a good nap in there somewhere. Especially with how much you’ve been stinking up the court lately…” she teased with a grin that spread ear to ear.

“So I’ve been told…” Shin murmured, exasperated at the revelation that it wasn’t just Touma who’d noticed his slump.

As they walked the short distance to the doors outside, Usagi stopped and tilted her head in puzzlement. “But wait, you’re rich, right? Why do you even need a job?”

“Usagi,” Shin groaned in exasperation. “I keep telling you, my family is rich, not me. And even then, it’s the main branch that’s ‘never looks at the price tag’ rich, and I do not talk to them,” he said with a note of disgust; the less said about the Yamaguchi branch, the better. “Secondly, I actually like my work. Always new places to go and new people to meet.”

“If you say so, Shinchan.” Usagi shrugged, already checked out of the conversation when her eyes lit up with a realization. “Oh hey! Why not just ask Touma to help you study! He always helps me!”

Shin let out a polite scoff, not even bothering to consider the suggestion. “No, I’ll pass. I’d get more studying done blindfolded than with him. And I somehow doubt much studying done between the two of you.”

Usagi came to a halt and stamped her foot. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Shin sighed, “that he’s lazy.”

“Yeah, and? So am I,” Usagi pouted, stomping her way up to him, “What’s wrong with being lazy?!”

Shin rubbed the back of his neck and looked away for a moment, a concessionary sigh passing his lips. “Nothing, Usachan,” he smiled, “Nothing at all.”

“Darn right there’s not! Besides, he’s your best friend, and!” she glowered, staring up at him from her much shorter stature before suddenly breaking into a playful smirk and throwing her arms around him, squeezing with one of her signature bear – or rather, “bunny” – hugs. “I’m your best friend, too!”

“Yes, yes you are, Usachan.” Shin laughed, squeezing an arm around her shoulders and lightly massaging the top of her head with his knuckles. “For life.”

“For! Life!” Usagi echoed, brimming with joy as she pulled away.

“Best friends for life;” an affirmation that’d always been something between a promise and a joke between them since they had first met all those years ago, said when they needed a reminder in spite of some setback or another, or, as was more often the case these days, when Usagi needed to call in a favor. Not that Shin minded; As far as he was concerned, she was family, and always had been since she first plowed into him in a wading pool.

“Now would you please let me go? I’m meeting Touma and I’m sure you don’t want to hear our guy talk.” Shin said as he pulled away from the embrace. Of course, it wasn’t as if he and Touma ever discussed anything crass, but all the same, she surely wouldn’t want to hear about a bad dream or twenty. For all of Usagi’s flaws, she was nothing if not empathic, and it wouldn’t do to worry her with something so trivial.

“Please, as if you two have anything that interesting to talk about.” Usagi huffed, playing up a fake pout and holding just long enough to see if Shin was looking, then switched back to a goofy smile and gave him an affectionate shove. “Go on, I’m gonna go join Umino and Naru. See ya Shinchan!” She said with a wave as she rushed down the hall.

“Later, Usachan.” Shin waved back, waiting a minute before continuing off on his own, eventually reaching his and Touma’s lunch spot by the soccer field. Sure enough, Touma was already in place, sitting up unusually straight and intently watching the game… or so it would have appeared to the untrained eye, as Shin was unsurprised to hear the ever-so-soft sound of snoring as he sat down next to his junior.

“Sleeping through lunch? Whatever did you get up to last night…” Shin teased, as he sat down and unwrapped his bento.

Touma’s shoulders jolted as he snapped out of his nap. “I was just resting my eyes,” he answered drowsily, “And if you must know, investigating.”

“Investigating what, exactly?” Shin asked, more out of courtesy than interest and knowing full well it was, as usual, going to be something ridiculous. “Another UMA?”

“Something like that.” Touma said as he pulled his meager lunch of egg salad sandwiches and two bottles of cola from his bag, tearing one of the sandwich containers open and taking an upsettingly large bite. “You know about Sailor V?”

Shin set his lunch case down and reached for his thermos, poured a cup of tea and tried to think of anything but the animalistic table manners on display beside him as he took a sip. “That girl that was all over the news a while back and then disappeared off the face of the earth?”

“That’s the one.” Touma said around a mouthful of egg salad, sending bits and spittle flying downwind. “Seems like we’ve got some kind of local copycat. There’s been sightings over the last year of some guy running around in a suit of armor,” Touma took another bite, chewed quickly, and swallowed before looking over and pointing at Shin’s bento. “You gonna finish that salad?”

Shin rolled his eyes and popped the compartment out of the box, passing it over. “Here, you need the vitamins more than I do. Anyway, that just sounds like some kind of arsonist with extra steps.”

“Maybe, but the whole situation is… interesting to follow.” Touma said as he took the container and started rooting through the vegetables with a slender finger, picking out a piece of green pepper and dropping it into his mouth like a bird being fed by its mother. “The thing is that he always seems to show up in places with… strange activities.”

Shin felt what little he’d eaten so far try to work its way back up. Touma’s eating habits were… a spectacle, to say the least, particularly in comparison to the soccer game down below. “How so?” he asked as the feeling of revulsion subsided.

“Alleged monsters suddenly popping up, people disappearing, businesses that are there one day and gone the next. And then this red samurai-looking guy shows up and aside from the scorch marks, it’s like nothing happened. It’s… Like I said, interesting.” Touma tilted his head back and emptied the salad container into his mouth, chewing with all the subtlety of a bovine. “And I’ve got this feeling like it’s connected to Sailor V somehow.”

“You should try utensils some time, makes you look more human.” Shin grumbled in disgust, turning away to shield the rest of his food, face, and appetite.

Touma shrugged as he chased the faceful of salad with a large gulp of cola. “Too inefficient.”

Shin shook his head, remembering how many times this particular conversation had come up and how they all ended exactly like this. “Right… so why does this all suddenly grab your interest? Last I heard she hadn’t been seen for months, and this is the first I’m hearing of the samurai arsonist.”

“Nothing, just…” Touma paused, leaning back against the upper row of seats. “I don’t know. Just felt like something I had to look into is all.”

“Ah-huh.” Shin sighed, “And did you find anything interesting at least?”

Touma shrugged. “Nothing really worth talking about. Almost nothing to actually work with in regards to either of them when it comes to footage and sightings. Phones, video cameras, security cameras… Just goes on the fritz the second they appear on the scene and back to normal after they leave, best anyone gets is a blurry picture or something too far away too really be useful. There’s a number of theories going around about what causes it.”

“I see,” Shin said as he picked away at his meal, “So then why…”

“Like I said, it’s just a feeling that I can’t seem to shake. Like something… big is happening. Or about to happen, and the fact that it happened with both of them on opposite sides of the world is… quite a coincidence.” Touma took another long pull from the cola can and, having emptied it, crushed it and flung it at the nearby bin, giving a small pump of the fist when it landed inside.

“You’ve been reading too many fairy tales. Or conspiracy theories.” Shin shook his head, taking back the bento compartment Touma had left lying between them and dropping it back in its place. “And that’s why Mizuno-san keeps killing you in test rankings.”

Touma hissed at the name. “Yeah, yeah, everybody slips up sometime. I’ll get her eventually.”

“So you keep saying.” Shin smirked, popping an umeboshi into his mouth.

With a scowl and a click of his tongue, Touma reclined against the bleachers. “Whatever, that’s enough about what’s been keeping me up,” he said, suddenly swiveling his head about to face Shin. “Now what’s been keeping you up?”

“Ah…” Shin’s shoulders sagged as he remembered why they’d met up today in particular. “It’s nothing, just… a bad dream.”

Touma scoffed as he tore into his second sandwich, “Must be a hell of a nightmare to keep you up for a week like that. Care to share?”

“It’s nothing, just-” Shin began, shooting an irritated look over only to find that, rather than being in the midst of tearing into his lunch like a starving beast, Touma was watching him with genuine concern. Shin sat in contemplation for a moment, and finally: “Alright, yeah. It starts with, I’m standing on a lake…”

The rest of lunch period passed quickly as Touma sat, unusually silent and attentive as Shin recanted the nightmare, reciting every detail of the dream that by now had burnt itself into his memory, the only motion or sound from Touma being to open another cola and take a sip from it from time to time. At last, Shin arrived at the ending; or rather, the difference in last night’s version. “…and then I woke up on the floor. Almost called you, but… ah, it was just a bad dream.”

“A recurring bad dream, no less.” Touma added, finally speaking up after what had to be the longest time Shin had witnessed him be silent. “Pretty sure that’s significant in a few cultures… like this one.”

“It’s nothing, Touma.” Shin countered, “it doesn’t mean anything other than I’m under more stress than I realized, if even that.”

“You say that, but…”

“But what?”

“What if it does mean something?”

Shin couldn’t be sure if the look on his face was disbelief or irritation; all that he was certain of was that Touma was clearly crazier than he was. “You can’t be serious. It’s. A. DREAM.”

“Sure, but…” Touma cupped his chin in his palm, staring out and past the soccer field, though whatever he’d been thinking of seemed to pass a moment later as he straightened up. “Ah, nevermind. Just some pop-psychology nonsense. Nothing worth getting into right now.”

Shin cocked his eyebrow as he checked his watch, fully certain that what Touma was selling wasn’t worth buying. “Uh-huh.” Seeing that it was time to head off lest they be late to class, he clamped the lid onto his bento, wrapped it up in its seaweed-patterned handkerchief, and stood, offering Touma a hand before jumping down from the bleachers and walking off to the school hall.

It was as they approached the door when Touma stopped in his tracks, making himself known with a faked cough. “Shin,” Touma said, making sure he had the latter’s attention as he shoved his hands in his pockets and set his eyes on his shoes, dawdling for a moment before continuing. “I… Look, would you mind if I brought this up to someone?”

“Someone?” Shin asked in the middle of reaching for the door handle, “That’s pretty vague, Touma. Mind giving me an idea as to who this ‘someone’ might be?”

“Nobody you know. I mean…” Touma paused, likely realizing the mistake he’d just made. “I’ve got a friend who… Let’s say specializes in this kind of thing.”

“‘This kind of thing?’ Touma, you’re not going to tell one of your internet friends about my dreams are you?”

“I- well, not friends, plural…” Touma grumbled, looking everywhere but at Shin and folding his arms in a way that emphasized his frumpy appearance. “It’s just a guy I know that has connections in the folklore department at Sengoku University, and-”

“S- Sengoku University?!” Shin exclaimed, keeping his voice as low as he could and glancing around; thankfully they seemed to be the sole stragglers returning this way. “Touma, that school is nothing but nutcases and crackpots!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll drop it.” Touma raised his hands in surrender. “Forget I said anything.”

“Unbelievable…” Shin groaned, yanking open the door and waving Touma along. “Get moving, I won’t stand for either of us being late.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Touma muttered, lazily loping past purely for Shin’s displeasure, which was quickly corrected by a light smack on the back of the head. “Hey! I’m going, I’m going.”

“Then go.” Shin growled, watching as Touma proceeded at a normal pace, and Shin rolled his eyes, blustering upward and taking one last look out the doorway before letting it close behind him. The yard was quite empty now, only the sounds of city life echoing across the grass and garden. And yet he could not shake the feeling that something was out there, something watching him. Touma was just being paranoid, he was sure, or still kicking some chuuni behaviors. And yet…

The Pale Lady and her piercing eyes flashed in his mind; Shin rubbed his eyes and fought off a yawn, trying to ignore the memory of the dream as he walked made his way down the hallway up the stairs, slipping back into class just in time for the bell to ring.

The mid-afternoon sun bore down on the veranda of the apartment complex, shadows from trees and guardrails casting a piano-like pattern upon the doors and windows, creating a pleasantly cool sensation amid the warmth of mid-spring. The echoing chorus of city life and children at play ringing down the open hall was soon drowned out as a massive yawn escaped Shin’s mouth. He had only just stepped inside his apartment when a trio of kids came sprinting down the walkway, blocking the sunlight from sight as the door shut behind him.

“Well, at least I’m home…” He muttered drowsily as he kneeled to take off his shoes and slip into his house shoes. Grabbing the mail out of the catch basket under the slot in the door, he stood and leafed through it as he made his way out of the entry corridor and into the combination kitchen and living area; nothing but junk mail, he grimaced as he dropped the collection into the trash and trudged over to the kotatsu, intent on settling in and tackling his homework. But no sooner did he sit down, finding a comfortable spot on the seating cushion and reclining against the sofa did the doorbell ring.

“Ah for the love of…” He groaned, unfolding his legs from beneath him and half-stumbling back to the door as the bell rang again.

“Coming, coming.” Shin muttered, stopping at the door and straightening his collar and posture. A visitor, however unexpected, needed to be welcomed graciously. “Good day, how may I-” He started automatically as he opened the door, finding himself face to face – or rather, face to hat brim – with a delivery man.

“Mouri Shin?” The courier asked, head bowed as he seemed to study the clipboard in his hand. Between the way the man’s hat was angled over his face and the glare from the sun behind him shining right in Shin’s eyes, it was hard to make out his features.

“Ah… yes.” Shin blinked; he certainly hadn’t been expecting anything today. Or any other day, really. “How may I-”

The courier nodded and held out the clipboard and a pen, tapping a blank line on the paper with it. “Please sign.”

Shin stared at the pen for a moment, mouth partially agape, before snapping himself back into the present. “Ah, right… hm…” He quickly struck his signature onto the document and handed the pen back. The man tucked it back into the clipboard, which he in turn tucked under his arm, and handed Shin a small parcel about the size of the latter’s palm.

“Have a nice day, sir.” The man pinched the brim of his ball cap, tilted his head in a curt nod, and  walked off down the veranda.

“Thank… you?” Shin called after him, but within the space of a blink, the man had disappeared… well before he would’ve made it to the stairs. Shin stared at the empty hall for a moment in disbelief before shaking his head and stepping back, closing the door in front of him. “I really must not be getting enough sleep…” He muttered as he examined the parcel in his hand. It was about the size of a cassette case, with the thickness of a book with a decent page count, wrapped in plain brown paper. The only marking on it was his name, spelled out in, for some reason, cursive English, the handwriting not that of anyone he knew.

“What on earth…” He mouthed, thoroughly confused over the situation. His fatigue suddenly absent, he made his way back to the kotatsu and dropped down on the cushion, his finger tracing the edge of the wrapping as he contemplated the peculiar encounter. He hadn’t ordered anything, wasn’t expecting to be sent anything… what was this, and from whom? Curiosity getting the better of him, he said a small prayer and held his breath, bracing for the possibility that this mysterious parcel was in fact a bomb or some other device – after all, all number of strange things had been happening in the last several months, samurai arsonist or not.

“Here goes…” he mumbled, and swiftly ripped the paper open, revealing a shiny, dark grey clamshell box, not unlike the kind that jewelry tended to be sold in. Taking a deep breath, he placed his thumbs at the mouth, closed his eyes, snapped it open…

For a moment the room was dead silent. There was no ticking, no click of a mechanism, no sudden burst of heat… just a soft ‘thunk’ as something landed on the table in front of him. Shin opened his eyes and took a quick glance around before settling on the now-exposed inside of the box, lined with a fine, white velvet, indented in the middle from whatever had been sitting in it. He blinked, and looked down at whatever had landed on the table, finding that it was a small, cloudy white glass bead, about as big around as the end of his thumb. Shin’s mouth fell open in disbelief; there was no way that could be here. This much he knew for certain, because it had been barely a month since he’d thrown it back into Hagi Bay where he’d found it.

“What is… how is this…” He muttered, leaning over and nudging it with his finger, following it with his eyes as it rolled a bit. Barely a month ago, shortly after his fifteenth birthday, he’d dove to the bottom of the bay as was the family tradition, in search of what was said to be one of Ryujin’s lost treasures. Of course, nobody ever really expected to find anything; nobody ever had, but that was the tradition, a trial of endurance to prove one had developed into a healthy young man. And yet… he had found something. Or rather, found a cave, in which was a long-neglected shrine, and inside of that was something; Namely, a small, glass bead. The look on his mother’s face when he presented it to her had not been quite what he’d expected; Joy, certainly, but of a sort marred by a look of fear in her eyes. It was so unlike anything he’d ever seen in her, that even in the moment, he didn’t think twice when she retired to bed not five minutes later. And then, on the next day, she had asked him – in that particular way that only a mother could “ask” her child, where the only reasonable and correct answer was “yes” –to return the jewel to the sea as, she had said, the challenge was to find something, not to bring it back; “Only tragedy would befall one who steals from the sea god,” she had explained. And so he had swum back out and left it at the by-then-collapsed cave for the next Mouri to possibly find one day.

So how on earth was it here?

He picked the bead up, turning it over in his fingers. Aside from where he’d found it – both times now – there was nothing particularly remarkable about it. And yet, there was something peculiar, something he couldn’t quite call out. Puzzling over the trinket some more, he held it up to the light and felt his heart skip a solitary beat; he could’ve sworn it held a faint, blue glow, but it was gone before he could blink. His eyes had to be playing tricks on him, he thought, studying the jewel ever more intently. Over and over, he turned it between his fingers and palm, shifted it around his hand, weighed it, held it up to the light from the patio door to see how it struck the bead from different angles, looking for the glow again and failing. Over and over, he found nothing particularly remarkable beyond how uncannily smooth and even the surface was, at least to his hands – hands that even at fifteen years of age, had become more than adept at feeling out the grain and grit of stone and clay from days spent working in the kiln.

Shin rolled his shoulder, straightening up. It was a trick, surely; one of Sayoko’s pranks on her baby brother. Whatever, he thought as he pulled his workbook from his bag and setting on the table, opening up to the day’s assignment and settling in to work; though every now and then, he’d take a glance at the jewel, sitting just out of arm’s reach from where he sat.

With a yawn, he laid back against the sofa, head over the edge of the cushion, deciding maybe resting his eyes for a few minutes wasn’t out of the question; it was Friday night, after all. There’d be plenty of time to finish later.

And yet he found his eyes drawn once again to the bead. Deciding that he was probably done being productive for the evening, he reached around the side of the sofa and grabbed his craft kit and snatched the remote from the side table, clicking on the TV and flipping to the first thing that looked just interesting enough to be good background noise, and began picking out the tools and materials for his new project; it’d at least give him something to unwind with before heading off to work later, and after he got home later still.

Saturday had more than halfway passed. Just as expected, he’d been called in on short notice due to one of the delivery riders calling out; thankfully, he’d not been doing anything more involving than starting his laundry when the call came, and after six exhausting, humid hours running all over Izanagi’s creation with bundles of hot food on a much hotter metal-and-carbon fiber scooter, Shin had finally stopped to breathe, ready to clock out and head home. It was just as he was about to punch his card when a meaty hand tapped him on the shoulder; with a silent groan, Shin turned to face the hand’s owner knew exactly what was going to happen next, and did his best to hide his irritation as the groveling began.

“Shin, please, I’m begging you!” The man with a face the shade of a half-ripe tomato said, dropping on his knees and clapping hands over his head in a gesture of prayer. “I’ve got nobody else to ask!”

Shin leaned on the counter, arm resting on his scooter helmet and his face in his palm, fingers drumming on his cheeks. “That’s three weekends in a row you’ve said that, Masao.”

“I swear, Sonomura didn’t seem so sickly when I hired him, but I’ve got a couple of guys lined up to start this week help cover his routes. I just need you to pull one last double, just for today, please!”

Ikeda Masao was the owner and manager of Midori no Vaquero, a surprisingly thriving Mexican-inspired restaurant in the middle of one the livelier shopping arcades in Azabu-Juban. Middle-aged, slightly overweight, and clean-shaven to a shine that didn’t do much to draw attention away from his receding hairline, Masao was a shockingly well-travelled man of good nature whose kindness and honesty-to-a-fault masked a keen eye for talent and nearly preternatural business sense – Shin was reasonably certain that not only could Masao sell the time to a clock, he’d be able to get it to sign on as a partner selling lightbulbs to the sun and make a small fortune doing it. Having worked for Masao for nearly a year by this point as waiter and occasional cook before the recent transition to deliveryman, he’d been with the restaurant long enough to know that if Masao was telling him he was his absolute last option, there was no reason to believe otherwise.

And truth be told, they’d been having issues with the other delivery guys for more than a month; people just kept turning up sick for days, or quitting with no warning, or just… disappearing without a trace, only to turn up blocks or an entire ward away days later, disoriented and looking like they hadn’t slept or eaten for weeks. Masao had of course contacted the police in the latter cases, but they were hardly any help as the disappearances occurred with more than just a handful of food delivery drivers; as with everything else in this city, strange and unpleasant things that defied explanation seemed to be constantly happening to those who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Touma had been right about one thing; there was definitely something very strange going on lately.

But what was he to do about any of all that, Shin shrugged to himself. He had groceries to buy.

“Please,” Masao repeated, “I just need you to run the route for the evening, I’ll get Banba to cover for you tomorrow.”

Shin exhaled like a deflating balloon as he hung his head. ‘The route’ in question was one of their busiest and highest-earning, deliveries for a number of offices doing overtime as well as more than a few parties and karaoke venues. It was fully understandable why Masao was so desperate to have it covered, and it wasn’t like Shin wasn’t one of the top runners – that was a verifiable fact. “Fine, fine. I’ll do it, but you owe me.”

“I’ll give you a week off of your choice, with pay.” Masao grinned, standing and clapping Shin’s shoulders. “You are a lifesaver!”

Shin gave a bemused nod as he grabbed his helmet and headed over to the to the delivery rack, where the next batch of orders had just been set out. On the other side of the door to the dining room, he could hear the dinner crowd picking up, many of them likely desperate to escape the rain. Shin chuffed as he grabbed his cargo, strapped his helmet on, and pushed the service door open to the alley where his scooter sat, now drenched from the light-but-steady downpour. Clicking his tongue disapprovingly at the wet vehicle, Shin loaded the deliveries into the compartment on the back of the scooter, did a quick check of the route manifest before stowing it into the inside pocket of his raincoat, punched in the first address on his GPS, and wiped the seat off as best he could, wincing as he felt the warm moisture seep into the seat of his pants as he saddled up. Turning the ignition, he took a look at his watch to check the time.

Four in the afternoon; the kitchen closed at 11PM, evening deliveries cut off at 10:30. At latest he’d be back to turn in his keys by 11:30, and home shortly after midnight. So much for getting any studying done… let alone stopping by the market like he’d planned. And surely, Touma and Usagi, wherever they were right now, were having a great time… or at least a dry one.

“I’m so getting yakiniku tomorrow…” He grumbled as he pulled his visor down, kicked off, and sped down the alley, heading out into the rainy street.

The miserable, sticky weather did not let up for any longer than it took Shin to collect each new batch of orders, stopping as soon as he walked into the restaurant and resuming as soon as his foot landed outside again, and by the time of his last round at 10:29, he was soaked almost down to the bone. Being drenched all day was nothing new to him, and normally something he rather enjoyed, but he generally preferred to be dressed properly before taking a dive. Riding through the rain in street clothes… that just felt gross.

“Aaaaaaand last one.” Yuji, the lead cook, said as he watched the hands on the clock, pushing the last pack of food orders through the rack. “Good news is that you’ve only got one stop, bad news is that it’s all the way on the other side of town. Tama-chan has 2000Y that says you don’t get back until 11:45.”

“And what’s your money saying?” Shin asked, wiping his face and enjoying the momentary feeling of some part of him not being completely drenched.

Yuji grinned his full, gums-bared goblin grin. “I’ve got 3000Y saying you’re back by eleven after.”

Shin picked up the bag and pointed a gloved finger at Yuji. “Half,” Shin smirked back, pushing the door open with his elbows and not breaking eye contact with the slightly older cook.

“Only if you’re here on the dot, Mouri!” Yuji yelled after as the door swung shut.

“Aren’t I always,” Shin smirked again, now to himself, as he tightened the strap on his helmet and mounted up, checking the address and route on his GPS, and it finally registered where he was going; out to the warehouses and shipping hub, right on the edge of the restaurant’s delivery range. In fact, it was just on the outside of the range, he thought as he pulled up to an intersection and stopped. He pushed the thought away for the moment; it wasn’t anything too unusual, and there was a job to do, driving to focus on. Driving in the rain, he reminded himself; the absolute worst time to get distracted. The traffic in his lane began moving again and, gently applying the throttle, he rolled on.

The ride out was not particularly eventful, nor was it particularly long despite his unfamiliarity with this particular route and passing through some of the busier streets; further, the rain finally and truly relented as he pulled up to the warehouse marked as the address on the GPS. Shin sighed in relief, pulling his helmet off to give his scalp a moment to breath and giving his hair a good tousle as he dismounted and removed the cargo; still quite warm to the touch, which was to be expected. After all, the container box on his scooter could hold temperature about 50 minutes, and the estimated travel time had only been 20 minutes; he’d made it in 15. Plenty of time, he thought as he walked up the sidewalk to the door noted on the manifest. 1500Y was 1500Y, after all.

The building was reasonably nondescript and thus nearly indistinguishable from the dozen or so others in the area save for a logo painted high above, which he couldn’t quite make out from this angle; that aside, it was a rather uniform, colossal box of concrete and metal with the occasional window or door, such as the freight ramps off to his left. Approaching what looked to be the security entrance noted on the orders, he caught eye of the security camera over the frame and prayed he looked, soaked as he was from head to toe, at least somewhat presentable as he thumbed the button for the buzzer. Thankfully he’d long proven immune to catching colds while wet, but it still didn’t do to appear before strangers looking like a pile of soggy rags.

After a minute or two with no answer, Shin pushed the buzzer again; even from outside he could hear it going off, so it was probable the door guard was just indisposed at the moment, or just taking their sweet time. Scoffing, Shin took a look around; there were a few cars parked nearby, and he was far enough into the hub that the sounds of traffic were quite distant and muffled, with about a dozen or so other such buildings in the area and what looked like a municipal storage depot across the way which was distinguished by several large fuel tanks besides the building. Through the open bay door, he could just make out what appeared to be construction materials. Further, there were what might’ve been some workers or guards walking off in the distance, but with the mix of humid haze, late night shadows, and the blaring lights scattered across the of the yard, it was hard to tell for sure. In any case, as far as he could tell there was no one else around but him, and whoever was on the other side of the door that was in no rush to eat tonight. Holding in an anxious groan, he looked up at the camera, gave a wave, and pushed the buzzer once more; he couldn’t put his finger on it, but something didn’t seem right. And then there was the delivery yesterday; the jewel he’d received that by all means, should’ve been lost to the waves…

And what on Earth was that smell?

He jumped as the door in front of him clicked and slowly opened, a guard in a blue jumpsuit and ball cap appearing and began… Shin stepped back, surprising himself at the sudden reflex, but what had triggered it was more surprising… and concerning. There wasn’t a word to describe the way the man moved, or rather not any that he’d ever use to describe a person. It was, to the best he could explain, as if the man were being manipulated by a particularly clumsy puppeteer. Further, the strange smell was even stronger now, a foul mixture of rotten eggs, acrid, damp wood and…

Shin felt himself wretch. He knew the other note far too well; Hagi’s population skewed older than most areas, and of course where there were elders there would inevitably be, eventually, funerals… and cremations, the stench of which unfortunately carried farther than one would readily accept.

And there was no mistaking the odor of burning flesh.

“Ye-es-ss?” The man asked, somehow turning a one-syllable word into three with an uncanny flat affect. “H-owM-AY I be-of assi-stance.” The man’s head twitched, snapping violently to the side as the last syllable passed his lips… or rather, as he mouthed it; Shin was reasonably certain the man was not actually saying anything, or in fact, in control of anything he did; who, or what, was, was another matter entirely, and not one he was keen to investigate.

“Uh, Midori no Vaquero, delivery for…” Shin stammered, half his brain trying to finish the task at hand while the other half screamed leave now right now NOW. “I uh…”

“O-H. ThANK youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu…” The guard’s head slumped forward, the word hanging in his throat and droning for far longer than it reasonably should have, before suddenly snapping back up wearing a hideously broad rictus grin that fell miles short of his eyes as he limply extended his hand. “I-will-take-that-now.”

Shin forced a nervous smile in return and began to hand off the carryout bag, when he noticed the man’s eyes snap to something on his arm. Shin tried to follow his gaze; there was nothing particular notable about his rain-soaked poncho sleeve that would’ve stood out…

And then he saw exactly what the strange man was looking at; the jewel, the one from the bottom of the bay, that out of boredom he had finished weaving into a flax bracelet earlier that morning before being called in. That couldn’t be right… but he quickly reminded himself that none of this was right. He jerked his arm quickly to the side and back, watching as the guard’s gaze followed, confirming his suspicions: This man was very much not interested in the bagged meals in Shin’s hand.

“Please, giiiiiiiiiiive IT-to Me.” The guard droned, hand wagging limply at the end of his outstretched arm.

“Of course,” Shin said in his most compliant tone, quickly switching the bag to his other hand just as it got within reach of the… Well, he was genuinely unsure of what he was dealing with now. “Please enjoy.”

The “man’s” smile immediately dropped, just as his eyes dropped to Shin’s bracelet, now out of his reach. “give. giVE. GIVE. ME. IT.” Without warning he lunged forward, propelled by some unseen force and flying through the air like a rag doll.

Shin yelped and leapt aside, narrowly avoiding the guard as he plowed face-first into Shin’s scooter, knocking it over and collapsing into a heap over it. Shin, meanwhile, lost his footing, wincing as he hit the wet pavement harder than he’d have liked.

“Agh…” He grunted, sucking air through his teeth and shaking off his hand; the impact had been painful enough, and he was quietly grateful his riding gloves would have protected him from getting an abrasion. He did not have time to fully appreciate it, however, as the thing that had once been a security guard rose up, somehow limper than before, and flipped in the air to stare at Shin from upside-down, eyes completely devoid of life.

“GIVE. GIVE.” The voice was the same as before, but very definitely was not coming from the man; in point of fact, his mouth did not even move, and yet the voice echoed out from somewhere within whatever was left of him, ringing as if he were completely hollow. “GIVE TO ME,” it demanded, flipping over and floating toward Shin, “GIVE.” Shin scrambled to his feet and took off running towards the gate he’d entered through, looking for any sign of help; yet the yard was almost conspicuously empty.

“Help! Somebody! Help!” He shouted as loud as he could, glancing around, heart pounding in terror, only to be answered by eerie silence. Chancing a look behind him, he found the thing was still keeping pace – there was maybe ten meters between them. Although given the way it had moved before, he was certain it was lagging so far behind simply to mess with him. Lungs burning as he ran aimlessly through the empty park of concrete and steel, when up ahead and to his right, he saw it – the municipal warehouse, the grounds littered with all manner of clutter and door wide open; plenty of places to break sight and hide.

Pushing himself as hard as he could, he picked up a bit of extra speed and, checking behind him to confirm that the gap had indeed widened between him and the pursuer, he swerved off his current heading and dashed towards the open gate of the warehouse, weaving through a stack of cable rolls and diving into the darkness of the warehouse itself.

Fighting his pounding heart and heaving lungs, he moved as quickly and quietly as he could manage, staying as low as possible as he delved deeper into the shadows, weaving around crates and industrial supplies and listening carefully; the sense of passage of time he’d built up over years of free-diving told him it had at best been three minutes of relative safety and silence when he heard the sound of it limply setting down within the entry. Peering out from a gap between some barrel drums, Shin swallowed a gasp as he saw that the thing, now backlit by the park’s lights and whatever could trickle in through the windows above, had become even warped and contorted, head twisted around the wrong way and its flesh seeming to rot away with each passing second.

“GIVE. GIVE. GIIIIIIIIIIIVE.” It shrieked into the darkness, and Shin continued moving to keep from being spotted, grateful that the only light in the building coming from outside, the darkness was on his side – at least for now. Quietly he moved, juggling his attention between listening out for his pursuer, keeping an eye on his immediate surroundings, and searching for an exit, making a conscious effort to avoid a straight path for more than a moment or two; surely the creature was keeping an eye on the way they’d entered, so that was right out. Navigating in the darkness was, thankfully, also not a skill he was lacking thanks to those countless hours under the waves –though at present he desperately wished for a third axis to move on.

The cat-and-mouse game felt interminable as Shin ducked into a length of concrete tubing, having heard It draw closer; he felt his frustration building over his fear from the constant ducking, hiding, and weaving, ears hyperfocused on listening out for the thing to hunting him, its teeth chattering and limbs swishing about with upsetting limpness as it stalked through the clutter, somehow managing to stagger into the way just as he thought he’d found a way out, but seeming to never take notice of him before he disappeared back around a corner. Always a step behind him, and still managing to get block his path just in time… and what was worse, it seemed to be changing even more, its torso stretching out to the point where its rib cage was clearly visible… and breaking apart. There had to be some way out of this, something he could due to make an opening…

It was then that he suddenly took notice of the lump in his pocket; his cell, of course! Listening out for It to be far enough away not to notice, he drew the phone from his pocket and carefully pulled it open, holding his breath and holding it close to try and mask the light from the screen, breathing a light sigh when he saw that the exposure to the rain or the chaos of the pursuit had not damaged it beyond use. His relief was crushed almost instantly, however, when he noticed the no service icon in the corner. Maybe if he could get closer to the-

“FOUND YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOU.”

The hollow, droning voice sent a shock of terror down Shin’s spine. Snapping around, Shin saw Its empty, glassy eyes glaring at him through the opening of the tube, face a sickly mixture of pale grey, green, and purple, falling away and missing in places, head twisted at an angle that the human skeleton couldn’t possibly allow, a pair of horns – no, not horns, mandibles – jutting out from its forehead and chin. Wasting not another second, Shin scrambled towards the other end of the tube when it reached out with both arms, stretched and warped with flesh melded into tendons, and slammed its hands into the sides of the tube, talon-like fingers punching through concrete like pins through cloth, lifting the structure off the ground and tilting it back towards its ghoulish face. Shin was only just able to grasp the edge and pull himself out before gravity would’ve inevitably betrayed him to the monster, though his timely escape did not equate to a smooth landing as he met the ground shoulder-first and cried out in agony; from the feeling, it was at the very least dislocated. Adrenaline pumping, he willed himself to ignore the pain, pushed off the ground and sprinted off, looking back just in time to see the creature hurl the mass of concrete at him.  Reacting with barely a second to spare, Shin dove to the side, narrowly avoiding becoming a red smear as he slammed into a pile of aluminum canisters that while empty, made for yet another unpleasant impact.

Shin cried out; the pain was excruciating now, but he had to keep going, had to get out of here, to get away from this… thing. He tried to pull himself to his feet, grabbing onto the top of the canister pile with his good arm, only for it to collapse under his weight and send him sprawling onto the ground again, muscles screaming in protest of his attempts to get up. Heavy stomps came to a halt behind him, and he rolled onto his side, wincing as all of his weight settled on to the injured side, and saw the creature, stretched and contorted into something only vaguely recognizable as having been human, mandibles clacking as it chattered with the maw that had opened where its face once was, gangly, segmented poles of rotten and torn flesh stretched over bones that he realized with absolute horror had once been its ribs and arms, it was now a twisted amalgam of flesh and bone and dark blue fabric stained black with blood that resembled and insect – a or rather, a centipede – more than a man as it laughed that chilling, chittering laughter, reaching down with talon-handed main arms.

Shin felt his heart pounding again. This was it; there was nowhere left to run, no escape. No point begging; there was no mercy in the thing’s eyes, in so much that it still had eyes. He’d die here, at the hands of a thing he could not even begin to explain, the headline popping into his head clear as day: Mouri Shin, born March 14^th, 1990, found mauled to death in a storage warehouse in downtown Minato… That was of course, if there was anything left of him to find, otherwise his mother and sister were likely to go to their graves never knowing what happened to him. And to die this far from the sea… his ancestors would have words for him.

Shin took a deep, shuddering breath and closed his eyes, praying that whatever happened next would at least be quick. The thing chittered erratically, sounding more like a mocking snickering than anything, as if it were relishing this last moment before the kill. And then it came, the sound of a claw ripping through the air, aimed straight at him…

And abruptly stopped as the creature screeched. Slowly, hesitantly, Shin opened his eyes. The creature had begun backing away, clicking and gnashing its mandibles at him as it moved back, seemingly warded off by… Shin suddenly realized how bright everything was, his surroundings illuminated like someone was holding a lantern over him. No, not over, he realized, casting his eyes down; on him, as the bead on his wrist had begun to glow the same blue light he’d sworn he’d seen the day before. As he held his wrist up to inspect it, the world seemed to fade out of focus, the air becoming filled with whispers and chants; and then, without warning, the light erupted in a blinding flash, images of cloth bolts unfurling and Sakura blossoms falling flashed across the white that filled his eyes. And just as quickly as the light had appeared, it vanished, leaving the world just as it had been; save for the creature now fallen upon its back, thrashing and raging its many legs, seemingly blinded.

As for himself, everything felt… different, Shin realized. The pain in his shoulder, the feeling of edges of crushed aluminum sticking into his back and soggy clothes sticking to his skin – all now absent, replaced by something else entirely, something that Shin found himself lacking words for.

And then he saw his hands.

They were still there – at least, as far as he could tell – but now covered in some sort of white armor, upon which was another layer on the back of his palms and forearms, this one light blue. The guard on his left arm was rather smooth, contouring to shape of the forearm, but the right was squared, with a three-pronged claw mounted atop and folded back against it. His legs, too, were covered in the same light blue-upon-white, the leg guards sleek and solid save for a trio of spines down the front of his shins. The armor on his chest seemed to be a single plate atop three black, concentrically assembled bands, seemingly affording for excellent mobility. And he could feel the weight of a helmet, but under the circumstances, was not particularly interested in investigating it, particularly as the creature had recovered and was now swinging a clawed arm at his head.

Shin yelped and rolled to the side, the feeling of the flaps of armor around his waist flopping around and striking against the armor protecting his thighs proving to be rather irritating as he scrambled to something resembling safety, when a sharp blow struck him across the back and sent him sprawling back to the pavement.

“Damn it…” Shin grunted as another strike came, then another, the sound of nails scratching and raking against the protective plates. The creature was persistent, to say the least, and if he didn’t find some way out of this, it’d soon be victorious, Shin thought as the claws continued to scratch at him, unable to find purchase.

Claws… Shin suddenly took notice again of the claw on his arm. There had to be a way to use it… and then a black block on the back of his right shoulder came into view, previously obscured by the fin on the shoulder of his armor. It was textured, almost like… a grip. Quickly, he reached back and pulled on it, a slightly amused smirk forming when it turned out to in fact be a small dagger – a tanto. He sighed in resignation; a claw and a knife. It didn’t amount to much compared to what his opponent had, but at least now he had something to fight with.

“Okay… I can do this…” He grunted under the flurry of lashings; the armor was doing its job well and absorbing the damage to the point where he barely felt it, but the sheer volume was enough to keep him grounded for the moment. He just needed an opening…

The assault held for what felt like hours, and then it came, the beast seemingly giving up in frustration as it gave a chittering shriek. Siezing the opportunity, Shin rolled up into a crouching stance and braced the wrist of his knife-wielding hand against the opposite palm, and, taking a sharp, deep breath, rushed at his attacker, keeping low and holding the knife out and close until he was in range and shoved the knife forward, supporting the thrust with the whole of his shoulders. The creature lashed, smaller rib-legs quivering in agony as it swept its arms wide and high before bringing them down, intent on smashing Shin into paste-

Instinct took hold, and Shin leapt back, grabbing one tendril arm and flipping over it, using his weight and falling momentum to control it and bring it smashing down to the ground before stabbing it with the dagger, pinning it and leaping away. The monster screeched in agony, twisting and snarling as it attempted to wrench its impaled limb free, swinging its free arm wildly. But there was too much distance between them for the blows to connect; for a moment, Shin stood and observed his handiwork, the tables now having soundly turned… and then the creature reared its head back, swung it to the pinned arm, and bit through with a sickening, crunchy snap before turning back on Shin, its mandibles and mouth clicking furiously.

Swallowing hard, Shin began trying to figure out a Plan B; even with the creature’s strength and implied lethality, he was reasonably certain he could outrun it now; the main exit was wide open, he just had to get around the hideous obstacle. He could get away, report this to the authorities…

But that thing… would the police even be able to handle it? And if someone stumbled in while he was gone and it was loose, a worker on the late shift maybe… No. He couldn’t let that happen, not while he could at least try to do something. He looked at the knife lodged into the arm on the ground, now behind the creature, which was steadily advancing, body extended to full length to tower over him. Then he looked at the claw on his wrist. Seeming to sense his intent, it flipped down, lying flat against the back of his palm and blades extending past his knuckles. It wasn’t much – arguably a worse weapon overall compared to the knife – but it was something. It would just be a matter of getting in close enough to use it, but he’d been able to avoid the tendrils up to now; getting in wouldn’t be a problem, assuming of course the thing could even be killed by stab wounds.

The beast roared, opaque yellow spittle flying from its mouth as it unleashed a noise so powerful Shin felt as if his bones were being melted by sheer force. And then it charged, skittering and swerving on a dozen boney legs, its remaining human-like arm swept wide and ready to ensnare or wound. Waiting for the right moment, Shin leaped up and planted his foot firmly on its head, launching off of it. The actual plan was still up in the air at this point; all he knew was that it’d be best to lure the creature deeper back in, to keep it from getting back out into the world. However, he realized all too late that he had underestimated his new abilities, as his arc put him right on a collision course with a rafter which caught him square in the diaphragm. Disoriented from the wind having been knocked out of him, his attempt to cling to the beam failed as he had reached for it just a second after it was out of reach, and he plummeted back to the ground, slamming onto a pile of concrete blocks, several of which crumbled under him.

“Ah…” He seethed, pulling himself out of the rubble, dazed but finding the pain was far less than what he’d expect from something like that. But before he could fully regain his bearings, he felt something looming behind and spun around just in time to catch the palm of a massive clawed hand to the face, sending him sailing through the air and into a now-indistinguishable pile of metal and stone. As he struggled to pull himself back into the fight, something grabbed onto his ankle and yanked him up; Shin then found himself face-to-upside-down-face with that maw of champing pseudo-teeth and clacking mandibles, two large black lumps having grown in on top of the thoroughly mangled and deformed human head that he could only assume were the creature’s new eyes. which rang the most horrifying sound he’d likely ever hear, as once more his future seemed to be measured in seconds.

It was now or never. Swinging back on his caught leg, Shin let the momentum carry him like a pendulum and threw his clawed fist in as hard a punch as he could muster as he swung forward, planting the talons all the way to the base into the mass of unidentifiable flesh that had formed out of innards when the creature’s ribs transformed into legs. Whatever its organs had become, his strike was effective judging from the reaction, as the creature’s shrill screech rang out, an ear-piercing, raging chord of agony, and suddenly Shin found himself yanked away, the dislodged blades of his claw rending rotted and congealed flesh as he was flung clean across the building and through the wall.

Shin tumbled across what felt like the entire yard, kicking up chips of pavement and water as he rolled across the lot before finally rolling to a stop. After catching his breath for a moment and wincing at the renewed pain in his shoulder, he clambered back to his feet, only for something big and heavy to catch him by the back of his armor and yank him backwards, as the centipede-man bent itself backwards and slammed Shin head-first into and through a concrete divider with a suplex. Head throbbing and ears ringing inside his helmet, Shin’s lungs took a half second to kick back into gear, and he remained still as he ran through his options. There was no way he was going to overpower this thing, he thought. It towered over him by a full measure and had the strength to match; he’d sooner punch a blue whale into submission than this thing. The knife, even if it weren’t still in the floor of the warehouse somewhere, was unsuited to do anything other than distract; the claw was arguably even more useless. He needed something, some kind of proper weapon or tool to deal with this monstrosity…

A weapon, he needed a proper weapon. Over and over, he ran through it in his mind. Something to actually fight with, something that could even the odds – a sword, maybe? No, he though, a sword would very much put him at a disadvantage, given how fast this thing could move and how flexible it was. He could swing all day and all that’d do would tire him out. Further, he didn’t know how to use a sword effectively. The family arts were in the bow and the spear… Spear. Spear, the word seemed to echo, taking root, taking… shape, forming within the eyes of his subconscious… Yes, he needed a spear.

It was then that something flashed brightly beside him, just outside the corner of his vision. Turning to look, he very well would’ve thought he was crazy if it weren’t for everything else happening, for beside him was, in fact, a spear; or rather, or at least, something resembling one, stuck point-first into the pavement – or rather, balancing delicately on its tip atop it. Quickly, reflexively, he jumped up and took hold of it in one singular motion, spinning it over his shoulder and bringing it to bear; shoulders set, shaft braced against his hip, feet just wide enough apart to support an immediate shift to offense or defense, killing end pointed directly at the opponent’s center of mass. Textbook form; Sonoda-Sensei would’ve been proud.

What was not textbook, was the weapon’s design. In truth it looked as much like a spear, or rather, a jumonji-yari, as his armor looked like any other set he’d seen in his lifetime. The yari was a bit taller from end to end than he, with a thick, weighted end at the bottom, and the top consisting of three broad blades. The central one was rather long and pointed like an arrowhead, whiled the two on the sides curved down and then up, like a pair of hooks. Further, he could almost make out what looked like some kind of joint at the base of the two side blades. And on the face of the section connecting the three blades was emblazoned a simple mon, a black and yellow taijitu, distinguished by the lack of opposite-colored dots within the two main segments of the circle. All things considered, Shin thought, it looked to be a fine tool; now was just the matter of applying it. O

He drew in a large, calm breath, focusing exactly as he had been taught. There was no more running, no more hiding. Horn on head and dragonfly in hand, he now stood firm against this beast; one way or another this ended now. Or so he told himself, trying to ignore the fact that he had never been trained in anything resembling actual combat. The centipede, meanwhile, leered at him, chittering and twitching and stomping about on its human legs as it observed him, almost seeming to consider the new development.

The stalemate held for a long minute that stretched into an eternity when the first few drops of a new rain fell, popping against Shin’s arm and the yari, and then just as suddenly as it started, the sprinkle a deluge, water pouring from the sky like waves upon a ship’s hull. Thunder struck in the distance and the creature, only for a second, looked away in surprise.

There was his opportunity; no sooner did he finish the thought did Shin leap, touching one foot upon the corner of the shattered barrier before launching off, the tip of the spear now level with his foe’s head. The blow did not land as he’d hoped; it turned back just in time to react and flexed its lanky, chitinous body aside deflect, but it was a second late as the central prong nonetheless struck hard, embedding deep into what had been the shoulder of its remaining human arm.

There was no waiting for a reaction this time; Shin planted his foot hard on the chest and head, ignoring the snapping and raging maw right under his heel and, with all his might, yanked the spear free, flipped down and swung around keeping his eye on the enemy as much as possible, then ducked to this right under a wild swing that was likely aimed to cleave his torso clean off. Another crazed swat followed as it swung its whole body at him, spattering the air with ichorous blood that dissolved into the rain almost as soon as it exited the wound. This too Shin dodged, flipping backwards and swinging himself to the side to avoid the follow-up strike – in which the creature slammed its upper body down and then swung its lower, still human body and legs at him like a scorpion – and landing a slash of his own on the back of the attacking appendages and leaving a sizeable cut on one of the legs that ran from thigh to ankle, which too began oozing a sickening yellow-orange liquid. The insectoid monstrosity howled and raged and skittered back a short distance on its rib-legs, pavement cracking as the small, sharp limbs stabbed into the asphalt, when a sickening squelch rang out through the din of the downpour; to Shin’s horror, more legs seemed to be sprouting from the wound, tendrils of flesh and bone weaving together to form hard, spindly, legs. It was then that Shin realized that the wound he’d inflicted on its shoulder had since done the same, the original arm now dangling off to the side and barely held on by a strip of sinew.

“Damn it…” Shin seethed through the rain streaming down his face and the brim of his helmet, framing his vision with a curtain of water. Flexing his fingers on the shaft of the yari, he settled back into his initial stance, studying his target carefully through the torrential downpour before beginning to slowly strafe around, the centipede doing the same while flat to the ground and moving all its many, many legs, falling into a mutual orbit.

Cautiously, man and vermin circled each other, each watching the other carefully, when the beast suddenly rushed forward, rearing its front high as it charged in on its newly formed back legs; Shin dodged out of the way just late enough to feel the air rip as it came down like a hammer, smashing the concrete into gravel; had he been a fraction of a second slower, there’d be nothing left of him indistinguishable from a crushed can of red paint, Shin grimly mused. Again, it rushed, exactly the same as before, but rather than dodge, Shin braced his footing and charged in, catching the bug squarely in its midsection, the unpleasant feeling of the main prong of his yari crushing bony armor as it stabbed through reverberating up Shin’s arms. Then, through a mechanism he couldn’t yet identify, the two side prongs closed shut like a claw, holding the monster in place despite its writhing and raging.

“Let’s see how you like it!” Shin growled as he twisted, heaving the shaft over his shoulder before pulling down, using himself as leverage to lift the centipede into the air and slam it headfirst into the rubble. Not quite finished, he pressed in, pinning it down, and twisted the spear in his hands; the bug’s shrieks of fury became those of pain, and before long a harsh, squelching cracking began to ring out from where the yari had penetrated and pinned it, and only a few seconds later did it relent in a loud, sickening snap as it was split in to from the force. Stepping back, Shin kept his weapon leveled at the centipede, watching its death throe twitching intently; it couldn’t be that easy.

Sure enough, the bug rose again; now divested of its lower half, at full height it now only reached about Shin’s eye level – which was to say that it was still a horrifyingly big bug. Hissing and drooling from its ghastly maw, it regarded Shin with what he had to assume was deathly intent before dashing past him like a small, hateful, knee-level train until it reached a light pole, up which it climbed and wrapped itself, champing and hissing some more, as if to dare him to approach. Shin grimaced through the rain as he observed only to feel himself compelled, or rather even pulled by some inexplicable force to the side, just narrowly avoiding another large mass of flesh and armor diving at him from behind; the bottom segment, now bearing a head of its own just as ugly as the original, which continued its mad rush until it joined its other half and coiled similarly around the post.

What would it take to kill this thing, Shin thought, feeling the exhaustion over the situation starting to take its toll. What could he possibly do to it at this point? A traumatic enough injury, or destruction of the head, was more than enough to kill anything in nature; but it was doubtful that, given what he’d seen so far, even that would work since it just seemed to not just heal from it, but take the opportunity to create more of itself. And if they were capable of reproducing… Shin shuddered at the thought; he could imagine a lot of ways that would go, and none of them were particularly optimistic. If he was just holding his own with a set of armor that appeared by pure magic, something told him nothing short of a very large bomb would do much to stop dozens, or worse, hundreds of these things…

Shin blinked and mentally backtracked. A bomb... Maybe not that, exactly, but if there were just some way to vaporize the bugs…

It was then that he felt it; like a jolt running through his entire body, followed by a strange tingle, like feeling the floor of a floor vibrate under his feet and running all the way from his toes to his head. The hair on the back of his neck stood, and there was a sensation of something rising in his chest; not nausea, or a bottle of cola having its revenge, it was like… finding his voice, for the first time. He blinked and took a look at his hand, feeling his jaw go slack as he saw that it was glowing, shining with the same blue light as before. Almost as if it had been waiting for him to notice, the light engulfed him completely, enshrouding him in a cloak of brilliant cerulean light. A familiar hiss caught his attention, and he looked to see the bugs slinking away from their roost, skittering away to hide under the nearest structure, clearly terrified of whatever this portended. It made sense; The last time this light appeared, he’d gained the armor, so the perfectly understandable question was: What was going to happen this time?

The feeling in his chest shifted, first spreading across his shoulders and down his back, then down his arms and legs, finally reaching his hands and feet. It was as if a magnet had switched on in his palms and soles; he felt rooted, standing steadier and firmer as if he were anchored to the spot, while in his hands, it felt as if the yari were part of him now, as inseparable from him as his fingers. The strange feeling seemed to somehow extended to and through it, and an odd gleam seemed to shine from the central prong. He found himself enraptured by the trick of the light that seemed to glow ever brighter, ever bigger, shining with the same blue that he himself did. It was then that he realized that the rain had altered course; It was being drawn to the point the same way his eyes were, and within seconds, a glowing, churning sphere of water and light had formed just at the point, and, once again, the side prongs moved on their own, closing on the central and seeming to support the construct.

There was a flash in his mind; a hundred thousand images within a second, as if fast-forwarding through a memory. Too fast to really comprehend, and yet… he understood. What was happening, what this was.

This was victory.

Adjusting his grip, he raised the yari to shoulder height, couching it under his elbow almost as if he were aiming a rifle. The sphere had grown, continued to grow, spinning faster and faster, flattening itself into a disc, and the blades had opened back up to accommodate the expansion. It was ready. All that was needed now as the invocation.

 The words came as naturally as introducing himself to a stranger.

“Cho! Ryu! Ha!” Each syllable was clearly and loudly enunciated, but the voice that left his throat was not wholly his own; his was part of it, that much he knew, but the rest… it was a tone and pitch that he knew for certain he wasn’t capable of, something close to a roar echoing through a bronze bell than a sound a person would make.

For a moment, there was complete silence, absolute stillness, save for the swirling of the disc at the edge of his spear and the spatter of the rain as it resumed its course to the earth. And then, suddenly, the disc erupted, unleashing a wide stream of smaller discs that ripped through the air and rain, shredding everything in its path as it pummeled the creatures in their hiding spot with explosive energy and with one last, screeching, agonized roar, they were obliterated, vanishing into a haze of white light.

A heavy, relieved chuckle, half laugh and half sigh, pushed its way out of Shin’s chest as he collapsed to his knees, watching the glow. “Kami… What did I just d-”

His feeling of victory died a sudden, silent death as he realized where bugs had taken refuge, and the world slowed as he noticed the crack in the fuel tanks, and then the spark. The wave of pressure hit him before he ever heard the crack of the air pulling itself asunder, and he was sent, not for the first time that day, but certainly the last, flying through the air, his consciousness having long faded before he hit the ground again.