The blue light of the smartphone screen was the only thing keeping Kouji's thoughts from spiraling into the dark. He looked at the mission ticket again. Solo. No teammates. Just him.
Is this really happening? he wondered, his thumb tracing the edge of the glass.
Maybe Ryo finally thinks I'm ready. Or maybe he's just too busy to realize he's sending a broken blade into the field.
Either way, he couldn't let this chance go. He needed to feel like a Hunter again, not just a guest in a dormitory.
As he walked through the Association's halls, the silence felt heavy. He spotted Akechi entering the Building through the main entrance.
HE talked to some other Hunter, his voice was low, as he walked past Kouji. Tough just for a split second, barely noticable, Akechi looked Kouji in the eyes. HE didn't pay much attention to that, as he had to get his train on time.
But as he reached the industrial district, the warehouse was a skeleton of rusted steel and cracked concrete. Kouji reached out to use his "Analysis," but the familiar blueprints didn't click into place. Instead, there was a dull, heavy thrumming in his mind.
"Come on", he said silently. Just give me a structural map. Just one line. But the ability remained silent. It felt like trying to see through thick smoke.
A movement in the shadows caught his eye. A Humare emerged—a pale, twitching thing that looked more like an anatomical drawing than a living creature. IT looked like a corpse was brought back to life.
Kouji's pulse hammered. He grabbed a rusted pipe from the floor. He didn't wait for his mind to calculate the weight or the angle. He just felt a sudden, violent heat in his chest.
I need this to end, he thought. Now.
The pipe didn't just bend—it screamed. In a heartbeat, it turned into a massive, jagged glaive. Kouji didn't even recognize his own strength as he swung. The blade tore through the Humare's neck, turning the creature into a cloud of ash before it could even react.
That was… too easy, Kouji realized, his breath coming in gasps. But then he felt it. A small scratch on his arm where the creature had grazed him.
Suddenly, the heat in his hands turned into a cold, terrifying hunger. The aura didn't stop at the weapon; it jumped into the walls. Kouji felt the building through his fingertips—he felt every rusted bolt, every straining beam. And he felt them failing.
"No, no, no! Stop it!" he shouted in his head, trying to pull his hands away. But his power was acting on its own, drinking the warehouse's structure to feed the weapon in his hand.
The ceiling groaned. Concrete slabs began to shatter. Kouji barely managed to throw himself out of the wing before the entire section came crashing down in a roar of dust and stone.
He sat in the dirt, staring at the ruins. I did that. I didn't mean to, but I did that. I'm not a Hunter. I'm a disaster.
"Did you mean to do that?"
Ryo was standing there. He wasn't yelling. He just looked… tired.
"Ryo?! I only hit it once," Kouji whispered, looking at his shaking hands. Please don't look at me like that. Not with pity.
"I already figured this would happen... as soon as I saw someone sent you out on your own."
"You're a danger to yourself, Kouji," Ryo said quietly. "Go back to the dorms. You're on lockdown until further notice."
The walk back was a blur of shame. Kouji lay on his bed, but he couldn't close his eyes. The silence was too loud. Every time he drifted off, he felt the floor beneath him turning to dust. I can't stay here, he thought. I'm going to go crazy in this room.
He snuck out and found a small café at the end of a quiet alley. It looked like something out of an old storybook—warm lights, the smell of roasted coffee, and soft jazz music playing in the background. It felt safe. It felt like home should feel.
There was a young man at the counter, reading a book. He had ashy-blonde hair that looked almost silver in the lamplight. He looked so incredibly normal that Kouji felt a pang of jealousy.
"Long night?" the man asked, looking up with a friendly smile.
"Something like that," Kouji said, sitting a few stools away. He couldn't stop looking at the guy's hair. "Sorry, I was just wondering… is that your natural hair color? It's really unique."
The man laughed, a warm and easy sound. "It is. My name is Shinji."
"Oh really?" he replied. He liked the name. It sounded solid. "I've read about a hero named Shinji in some old books. I'm really into weapon history and smithing, so I spend a lot of time with old texts."
"Oh, also I'm Kouji"
Shinji looked amused. "That's interesting, A hero? What do the books say about him?"
Kouji grinned, feeling a bit of the weight leave his shoulders. "Actually, I usually skipped his chapters. He didn't really use weapons, and I only cared about the gear. But the stories say he was one of the strongest people who ever lived. So I guess he didn't need a blade to win."
Shinji nodded slowly, staring into his coffee. "Maybe someone made him this way — not using weapons I mean"
They talked for a while about nothing important—music, the city, the best places to find curry. For a few minutes, Kouji forgot about the warehouse. He forgot he was a "danger." He was just a kid talking to a guy in a café. This is what I want, he thought. Just this.
"I should get back," Kouji said eventually, standing up. "Thanks, Shinji. I really needed someone to talk to."
"Anytime, Kouji," Shinji said with a wave. "Try to get some rest."
He noticed?
Kouji walked back to the dorms, feeling a strange sense of peace. He slipped into his room and finally fell asleep.
Kouji just slept, finally finding a moment of quiet in a world that was slowly falling apart.