The town of Tenka looked like it hadn't been touched in decades. Cracked pavement stretched beneath crooked power lines, and rusted storefront shutters clung to buildings like flaking armor. It was the kind of place you could drive through without noticing — and exactly the kind of place nightmares liked to fester in.
Kouji stood beside a warped vending machine, pressing a cold can of barley tea to his neck as sweat clung to his shirt collar. Across the road, Yuusuke sat on the hood of an old van, tossing pebbles into a gutter.
"Three disappearances in two days," Kouji muttered. "And no reports of demons or vessels. Think it's linked to anything bigger?"
Yuusuke shrugged. "Could just be small fry. Nightmares clinging to forgotten places."
Kouji cracked open the can and took a sip. "You always act like this doesn't get to you."
Yuusuke raised an eyebrow, casually pointing to the pair of aura detection pins strapped to his belt. "I act like it because I've already set traps. We're not amateurs anymore."
Kouji smirked. "Since when did you get all responsible?"
"Since I got stuck with you."
They both chuckled lightly. The mood was easy between them, something rare lately.
They made their way down an alley where the air turned heavier, like fog that pressed on the chest. The town's silence wasn't peaceful.
Kouji stopped.
He felt it — a small pocket of aura, distorted and leaking like a tear in paper.
Ahead, crouched beside a rotting dumpster, a Nightmare pulsed in and out of focus. It had no face. No sound. Just a writhing shadow tethered to the concrete like spilled ink.
Before it could react, Kouji dropped to one knee and slammed his palm to the ground. Concrete cracked, and a metal rod twisted up through the earth into his hand — forged from surrounding debris.
The Nightmare screeched — and then it was gone. Dispersed in a breath of cursed fog.
Kouji exhaled. "Well, that answers the disappearance question."
Yuusuke walked up beside him, crouching next to the faint impression the victim left on the ground. "Nightmare was old. Clung to him too long. He's still alive, but weak. I'll call a medic team."
That night, they sat on the roof of the old inn, legs dangling over rust-bitten railing. The moon was half-full and pale, casting long shadows across the quiet rooftops.
"I think I get it now," Kouji said softly. "What it means to act before thinking."
Yuusuke raised a brow. "What, you think that's a compliment?"
"I used to hesitate all the time. But I think... I'm not scared of what I can do anymore."
Kouji leaned back, gazing up at the pale stars. After a long pause, he spoke — softer than before.
"…You know, after my dad died, it was just me and my mom."
Yuusuke glanced at him but didn't interrupt.
"She raised me on her own. Worked multiple jobs. Barely slept. But she always smiled when she saw me. Said she wanted to give me a life where I wouldn't have to carry the same weight."
He paused, eyes tightening at the memory.
"She passed away a few years ago. Overworked herself to the point her body gave out. And I… blamed myself for not noticing sooner. Not doing more."
Yuusuke's expression darkened, but he stayed quiet.
"When Ryo found me, gave me a chance to join the Association, I thought… Maybe this was my shot to make things right. I wanted to become a hero so badly, I gave up everything else. Friends. School. A normal life. I thought if I saved enough people, maybe it would make up for what she went through."
There was a bitter edge to his laugh.
"But that was just an excuse to mask the guilt."
He looked down at his hands, flexing them slowly.
"When Akechi showed up… I finally realized. This job isn't about being admired or making up for the past. It's about responsibility. If we mess up, people die. Simple as that. There are real consequences. I didn't understand that before. Not really."
Yuusuke gave a faint grin, pulling a can of soda from his jacket. "That's good. Just don't forget the fear. You need a little of it to survive."
Kouji nodded. Then, out of nowhere: "Yumi also smiles at me all the time."
Yuusuke almost spit his drink. "What?"
"Do you think she might like me?"
"Are you joking," Yuusuke said, already laughing. "You're doomed."
Kouji groaned and buried his face in his hands.
Far from their laughter, down the eastern slope of a different prefecture, a strange static buzzed in an alley.
Two more faces vanished.
No warnings. No traces.
The storm hadn't started — but the sky was already black.