Tokyo, the pulsating heart of the realm's commerce, thrummed with ambition. Travelers from distant lands flocked to its rain-soaked streets, chasing dreams of glory. Some forged their destinies in gold; others saw their hopes crumble to ash.
Among them was Kaito, a young man determined to make this Valentine's Day the most radiant of his life. A commoner of Tokyo, Kaito bore a fair complexion, jet-black eyes, and a clean-shaven face framed by a tall, striking figure. Yet his plain attire marked him as a man of modest means, a badge of his humble roots.
Today, Kaito rode the Silver Line, the city's fabled transport, from Shinjuku to Shibuya Square. The heavens, as if enraged with Tokyo, unleashed a torrent of rain, clogging the roads with chaotic throngs of carts and travelers.
The Silver Line, the lifeline of the city, thundered toward its destination. Kaito sat within, lost in thought, oblivious to the storm's fury. In his hand, he clutched a small ring box, turning it over and over. His mind swirled with questions. Will Hikari Aoi accept my proposal? Does she understand my heart? Does she love me as I love her? His thoughts drowned in memories of Hikari Aoi, the woman who held his heart.
As the Silver Line neared Shibuya Square, Kaito snapped to attention. Like a true son of Tokyo, he surged toward the carriage door, only to be swept along by the crowd. Pushed and jostled, he stumbled onto the platform, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. It felt as though he'd won a great battle.
But as he savored his victory, a faint white light pulsed from his chest, flickering softly. Kaito froze, his heart sinking. That light—it always heralded trouble. And trouble came swiftly. A shadowed figure, Ren Kuroda, darted forward, snatching the ring box from his hand and bolting into the crowd.
Kaito's world spun. It was as if Ren had stolen Hikari herself, trapped within that box. "Thief! Stop him!" he roared, sprinting after the figure. The ring was no mere trinket—it was the fruit of his toil, earned through sleepless nights as a tavern server, every coin saved for this moment, for Hikari.
He couldn't let it go. Not his effort, not his dreams. Kaito quickened his pace, but Ren Kuroda was no novice. He wove through the rain-soaked streets with practiced ease.
They burst out of the station into Yami Lane, a desolate stretch where a lone workshop stood. Kaito shouted, "Give me back the ring! It's my day to propose to her!"
Ren, still running, laughed mockingly. "Go to her then! Why chase me?"
"It's the ring I need to propose!" Kaito yelled back.
Ren smirked, his voice dripping with scorn. "A ring's not needed. Give her a flower. If she falls for it, fine. If not, move on!" He cackled, darting through narrow alleys.
Kaito's blood boiled, but he pressed on. The chase led them to a dead end in Yami Lane, where Ren halted before the workshop. Both men panted, catching their breath. Ren turned, his hawk-like eyes glaring at Kaito.
Then, the white light pulsed again from Kaito's chest, flickering ominously. He braced himself, sensing another storm brewing. Ren let out a sharp whistle, and four hulking figures emerged from the workshop—Taro, Jiro, Saburo, and Shiro. Their tattooed bodies rippled with menace, like specters of war.
Ren smirked, sensing Kaito's fear. "You'll buy another ring," he taunted. "But can you buy another life? Run, or regret it."
Kaito's heart wavered. The ring was his love's token, bought with every ounce of his heart. He couldn't surrender. "Please," he pleaded, voice trembling, "I worked for that ring. Don't ruin this day." His eyes glistened, but the rogues were unmoved.
A new figure stepped forward—Soma Tetsuya, their leader, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Ren," he growled, "did you bring what I asked?"
Ren grinned, tossing the ring box to Soma. "Of course, Soma. A fine piece, worth a fortune."
Soma caught it, chuckling darkly. His men roared with laughter, their voices like fiends in the night. Kaito's fists clenched, but he knew he was outnumbered. Still, he tried one last plea. "Please, return it. I'll pay you coin instead."
Soma's laughter died. "Fool," he snarled. "You had your chance. Now you'll die, and your coin will be ours. Be thankful your beloved isn't here—she'd be ours too." His men howled with cruel mirth.
Kaito's rage erupted. "Enough!" he roared, charging at them, ready to tear through their ranks. But Soma didn't flinch. With a wicked grin, he gestured to Akira Goro, a mountain of a man. "Play with him," Soma ordered, drawing a finger across his throat.
Akira lumbered forward, his fist raised. Kaito swung with all his might, aiming to shatter the brute's jaw. Their fists collided, and a sickening crack echoed. Kaito crumpled to the ground, pain searing through him. His face paled as he stared at Akira, cursing under his breath.
The rogues jeered, mocking Kaito's defeat. Ren turned to Soma. "This Akira is too strong. Even I'm wary of him."
Soma smirked. "Of course. He's trained by Riku Yamato himself. Ten times stronger than any common man."
Ren nodded. "Riku's a legend. I've heard he wields The Emberheart, a weapon that burns his foes to ash. Some say it's not of this world."
Soma shrugged. "True or not, it matters little. Let's enjoy the show."
Kaito, sprawled on the ground, overheard their talk of Riku and The Emberheart. If he'd known they were Riku's men, he'd never have chased them. But it was too late. Akira loomed, raising another fist. Kaito shut his eyes, bracing for the blow.
In that moment, the world shifted. Kaito found himself in The Veil of Mist, a vast expanse shrouded in white fog. His heart raced—what was this place? A deafening hiss, like that of a colossal serpent, shattered the silence. The mist parted, revealing two glowing blue eyes, vast as moons, staring down at him. Kaito's legs trembled, his breath caught in his throat.
Why do these serpent eyes haunt Kaito? What is this misty realm he's stumbled into? Will he reclaim his ring, or will Akira crush his dreams?
To find out, keep reading