Rain tapped against the window. I could hear it even before my eyes opened. The sound was steady, unrelenting, a rhythm I had learned to ignore but could never escape. The room smelled faintly of damp clothes and old wood.
I shifted under the thin blanket and groaned. "Morning," I muttered, my voice barely audible over the rain.
A voice called back from the kitchen. "Kurou, hurry up. Breakfast is getting cold."
I rubbed my eyes and swung my legs off the bed. The floor was cold, wet from the humidity. I pulled on my school uniform, messy and damp like always. I had no idea why I even bothered ironing it. She would notice anyway.
"Coming," I said.
Akari was already at the small table, two bowls set. Steam rose from the miso soup, curling up like it wanted to escape the tiny apartment. She didn't look up from the bowl she was arranging.
"You slept through your alarm again," she said. Her voice was calm, almost cold, but I could feel the hint of amusement beneath it.
"Yeah, yeah. Don't rub it in," I mumbled.
She glanced at me, then back at the food. "You need to eat properly. You're always so sluggish. It won't help you in school."
I sat down and picked up my chopsticks. The warmth of the soup hit my stomach, and I shivered slightly. "I'll be fine. You worry too much."
She gave me a small smile. "Maybe. But someone has to keep an eye on you. You're hopeless on your own."
I wanted to argue, but the words stuck in my throat. Akari always seemed untouchable. She was twenty-one, worked part-time jobs I didn't ask about, and managed the apartment like she was born to do it. I barely felt like her younger brother most days.
We ate in silence after that. The rain drummed on the window, loud enough that even conversation felt drowned out.
After breakfast, I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder. Akari looked up at me as I left. "Don't be late coming home," she said.
I nodded, trying to act casual. "I won't."
Outside, the city was gray and wet. The streets shimmered with puddles. People hurried along, umbrellas low, heads down. The vines grew thick on the walls, green and slimy from the rain, climbing up buildings and fences. They blocked the view of the streets beyond. Only the Nobels and the government could go outside the walls, but rumors said the world beyond was empty or dangerous.
I walked to school, splashing through puddles, careful not to slip. The same streets, the same buildings, the same gray skies. Everything felt familiar, but not comforting.
School was loud and humid. Classrooms smelled of wet uniforms and disinfectant. I found my seat near the window and tried to focus on the teacher, but my mind wandered. I watched the rain slide down the glass and wondered about the people outside the vine walls. What did they see? What did they feel?
A classmate nudged me. "Kurou, you're spacing out again," she said.
"Sorry," I muttered.
She laughed softly. "You really need to pay attention. One day they'll kick you out for zoning out too much."
I shrugged. It wasn't like it mattered. Grades were just numbers, and I had no real plans to impress anyone.
The teacher droned on about math, about numbers that seemed meaningless when the rain never stopped outside and the city felt like it was slowly suffocating us all. I doodled absentmindedly in my notebook, small triangles over and over, for no reason I could name.
By second period, I was restless. Everyone filed out into the hall, talking, laughing, trying to ignore the dampness that soaked through their clothes. I leaned against my locker , taking a small break, certainly didn't feel like a break at all though with all this background.
It was just another day. Another wet, gray day. But somewhere deep in my chest, I felt a flicker. A thought that whispered I wasn't meant to live like this forever.
And I didn't know it yet, but today, that thought would start to grow. Fuck that, that's just what I was hoping.
I continued to lean against the wall near my locker, trying to ignore the noise of students shoving past each other. The bell had just rung, and the hallways were crowded so of course you'd expect that, umbrellas dripping water everywhere, shoes squeaking against the wet floor.
"Hey, Kurou," a voice called.
I looked up. A girl with short, messy brown hair and sharp eyes was leaning casually against the opposite locker, the same one who nagged me about not zoning off in class. "Mika," I muttered.
She smirked. "You're late for the second period again. You really should get it together."
I shrugged. "Didn't hear the bell. Not like it matters."
Mika tilted her head, eyeing me more closely. "Still wearing that messy hair like a curtain over your face. Do you ever comb it?"
I ran a hand through my red-blackish hair, the strands sticking damply to my forehead and neck. "I combed it this morning," I said, but even I knew it looked like I hadn't.
Her eyes flicked to my ears, partly hidden by hair, then down to my pale skin and soft lips. "You know, you'd actually look… I don't know, less like a ghost if you just pushed it back a little. Your eyebrows are strong though. Makes your brown eyes stand out. Almost intimidating."
I flushed, though not enough for her to notice. "I don't really care what I look like."
Mika laughed softly, shaking her head. "You really don't. But people notice you anyway. Even if you try to disappear, you stand out."
I looked away, staring at the floor. Standing out wasn't something I had ever wanted. It was exhausting.
"You gonna eat lunch alone again?" she asked, nudging me lightly. "Or maybe I should just stop asking."
I shrugged. "I eat alone. It's fine."
She grinned, a little mischievously. "Suit yourself. But don't be surprised if I drag you into the cafeteria anyway. You need some sunlight. Or at least, pretend to be normal with the rest of us."
I tried to smile. Pretending to be normal felt impossible, like wearing shoes that didn't fit in a city that was always wet.
"You're pale, you know that?" Mika added casually as we started walking toward class. "Not like just normal pale. Like… almost like you're not used to the sun. Or maybe you're used to hiding."
I glanced at her, not sure if she was teasing or observing. "Maybe a little of both."
She snorted. "Figures. Well, don't go scaring people with that serious face of yours. It's creepy. But in a good way, I guess."
I didn't reply. I wasn't sure what to say. Mika was loud, confident, the kind of person everyone noticed. Me? I just wanted to fade into the background. But somehow, she made it harder to do that.
We reached our classroom. She slid into a seat two rows ahead of me, throwing me a wink over her shoulder. "Try not to disappear completely, Kurou. I'd get bored if you did."
I sank into my seat, the damp uniform clinging to my back, hair falling again over my forehead and ears. Brown eyes scanning the rain-streaked windows, pale skin barely visible under the harsh fluorescent lights. Strong eyebrows furrowed as usual, soft lips pressed together. I felt ordinary. And yet… I wondered if she had seen something else. Something underneath all this.
The teacher started writing on the board. I pulled out my notebook, doodling absentmindedly, triangles forming in the margins without me noticing.
Triangles. I didn't know why, but the shapes made my hand move on their own. A small, sharp feeling prickled at the base of my stomach.
I looked up at Mika. She was watching me now, head tilted. "Are you thinking about something weird again?"
I shook my head quickly. "No. Just… daydreaming."
She smirked. "Figures. You're always in your own world, huh?"
I didn't answer. My mind drifted, as it always did, wondering about things no one else could see in this city, under this rain, behind these vine walls. I thought for a minute once more, 'man I needa stop being such a edgy kid. Should try and be a bit more lively for once, not all that easy to though.' I sighed, and carried on with this boring class.
The bell rang for lunch, and the hallways flooded with students. I was about to head for the usual corner where I ate alone, when I felt a tap on my shoulder.
"Hey, come sit with us," Mika said, holding a tray. Behind her, a small group of friends waved.
I hesitated. Talking to people wasn't exactly my strong suit, but I didn't want to disappoint her. "Uh… okay," I said, following her.
The table was crowded, noisy. Plastic trays clattered, conversations overlapped, and the smell of wet umbrellas mixed with the scent of fried food. Mika shoved me onto the bench next to her with a grin.
"Relax," she said. "Just talk. Don't disappear on us."
I nodded, gripping my tray. I tried. I really did. And to my surprise, it went… fine.
They asked about classes, about homework, about stupid gossip that didn't matter. I answered in short sentences at first, but gradually I found myself laughing at Mika's jokes and even making a few on my own. It felt strange, like stepping into a world I didn't usually belong to.
Mika elbowed me lightly. "See? You're not so bad. You just have to try. Or maybe you just needed me to drag you out of your corner."
I smiled a little, letting the warmth of the moment settle. It was… nice. Strange, but nice.
The lunch bell rang again, and everyone filed out quickly. I followed with the group for a moment, but then, somehow, I slipped away. Third period. Skipped.
I found a bench on the side of the school, covered by the overhanging roof to keep off the rain. The gray world stretched around me, wet asphalt reflecting the dull clouds above. No one was near. The sound of rain was all I could hear, drumming a steady rhythm against the metal roof.
I leaned back on the bench, closing my eyes for a moment, letting the damp air wash over me. Thoughts came unbidden, swirling in a quiet, endless spiral.
Mika. I thought about her a lot. Her sharp eyes, the way she laughed, the way she seemed to notice things about me no one else did. Even the way she teased me about my hair, my pale skin, my brown eyes.
I had no idea why I was thinking about her so much. It wasn't like I had any experience with… anything. But there was something about her, something alive that I didn't have, that made me want to notice her, to follow her, to… be better, maybe.
I pulled my knees up to my chest, resting my head on them. The rain fell steadily, a gray curtain, endless and heavy. And I kept thinking about her.
I didn't notice the time passing. I didn't notice the damp creeping into my uniform. All I could do was think, quietly, and let my mind wander into places I didn't dare follow in front of anyone else.
Something about the way she smiled, the way she talked, the way she seemed to exist without fear… it stuck with me. Like a faint spark in the middle of the gray.
And I couldn't stop thinking about it.
I slid my phone out of my pocket as the last bell rang. A message from Akari.
"Kurou, pick up some groceries on your way home. Don't forget the miso and the bread."
I groaned quietly, shoving my bag higher onto my shoulder. The rain was already starting to fall harder, the gray clouds hanging thick over the city. Umbrellas bobbed along the streets, people moving fast to avoid getting soaked.
I walked out of the school gates, the uniform clinging to my skin. My shirt stuck to my chest, my hair plastered to my forehead and neck. Everything was damp, heavy, uncomfortable, but the bag I carried for the groceries stayed dry. The government had designed the public bags to be waterproof. Smart, if nothing else.
The streets glistened, water pooling at my feet. I kept my pace steady, careful with each step. Slipping in these streets was easy. The vines that grew over the walls dripped constantly, adding to the wet mess.
Thunder rolled in the distance, low at first, then louder, sharper. My stomach clenched. Then a flash of light split the gray, and I froze.
Something was falling. At first, I thought it was just some black object thrown from a building or dropped from a crane. My heart beat faster as it came closer. Faster than anything I had ever seen.
Instinct kicked in. I dodged to the side, feeling the rush of air from its speed. My feet skidded on the wet asphalt, barely steady, and the groceries clunched in my hand. I stumbled, shaking, heart hammering.
When I looked up, the street was empty. No one else was around. Only me, the rain, and… it.
The object had landed, or maybe hovered, a few meters ahead. I stared at it, frozen.
It was a cube. Black. Not just black like wet asphalt or shadow. Black as nothing. No reflections. No color. No hint of light. It absorbed the gray around it, swallowed the rain, the neon, the street itself.
My chest tightened. My fingers curled around the grocery bag. I didn't know what it was. I didn't know why it was here. But something told me this wasn't normal.
Something told me it wasn't just an object.
It was alive.
Something also told me, to reach out for it. To touch it. I don't know what, it was like I was being pulled towards it. My hands slowly reached out for it, I hesitated for a second...and then...I made contact....
"This hollow,
This void that drags at the edges of my chest,
This darkness that tastes of nothing and everything,
This weight that presses and lifts at once,
This emptiness that stretches and folds into my bones,
This silence that roars louder than the storm,
This pull that twists and coils inside me like living wire,
This ache that blooms like fire wrapped in ice,
This hunger that does not eat but swallows whole,
This song that thrums in my veins,
This tremble that crawls under my skin,
This breath that is not mine,
This heartbeat that is older than me,
This pulse that fills and empties at the same time,
This shiver that tastes of rain and distant stars,
This energy that hums and bites and promises,
This blackness that feeds on the gray world outside,
This weightless pressure that lifts me and crushes me,
This fear that thrills me,
This awe that terrifies me,
This I am hollow,
This I am full,
This I am broken,
This I am whole,
This I am devoured,
This I am awakened,
This I am alive,
This is beautiful.
my chest,
This darkness that tastes of nothing and everything,
This weight that presses and lifts at once,
This emptiness that stretches and folds into my bones,
This silence that roars louder than the storm,
This pull that twists and coils inside me like living wire,
This ache that blooms like fire wrapped in ice,
This hunger that does not eat but swallows whole,
This song that thrums in my veins,
This tremble that crawls under my skin,
This breath that is not mine,
This heartbeat that is older than me,
This pulse that fills and empties at the same time,
This shiver that tastes of rain and distant stars,
This energy that hums and bites and promises,
This blackness that feeds on the gray world outside,
This weightless pressure that lifts me and crushes me,
This fear that thrills me,
This awe that terrifies me,
This I am hollow,
This I am full,
This I am broken,
This I am whole,
This I am devoured,
This I am awakened,
This I am alive,
This is truly beautiful. "
My knees shook. My chest felt tight, like something inside me was pressing outward, hungry and impossible to control.
I gripped the grocery bag tighter, the clunk of cans and bread barely steady in my hand. Rain poured down harder, soaking my uniform, plastering my hair to my forehead and neck. My feet slipped on the wet asphalt, but I pushed forward anyway, running.
The streets blurred around me. Neon signs reflected in puddles, vines dripping with rainwater, empty sidewalks. Everything felt sharp and wrong, as if the cube's darkness had reached into the city itself.
My mind raced. What the hell was that? What was it? I didn't know, and not knowing made it worse.
I ran faster. My heart hammered, my legs burned, but I couldn't stop. Akari. I had to get home. I had to get inside.
Every step was slippery. Every puddle threatened to throw me off balance. My stomach churned with the hollow, the strange emptiness inside me pulsing, reminding me that something had changed. Something that wasn't supposed to be touched.
Thunder rolled again, shaking the buildings around me. I stumbled, nearly falling, but caught myself on the edge of a vine-covered wall. The grocery bag clutched tightly, soaked rain dripping down my back.
I didn't stop until I reached the apartment building. The door closed behind me with a soft click, and the warmth inside was almost unbearable after the cold storm. I leaned against the wall, gasping for breath, my stomach hollow and aching.
I was home. I was safe. But something inside me knew… nothing would ever feel normal again.
I burst through the apartment door, drenched, shaking, the grocery bag clutched tight in my hands. Rain dripped from my hair onto the floor, soaking the tiles, but I didn't notice.
"Kurou!" Akari said, glancing up from the small table. "What happened? You're soaking wet."
"I… just—ran in the rain," I muttered, trying to catch my breath. I handed her the grocery bag, fingers trembling.
She raised an eyebrow. "Just ran? You look like you fell into a river."
"I'm fine," I said quickly. "Just… sloppy today."
Akari didn't press. She unpacked the groceries, placing rice, miso, and bread neatly on the table. "Sit. Eat. You need energy."
I sat, still shivering, and picked up my chopsticks. The warmth of the rice felt normal, comforting even, but my stomach throbbed beneath it. That hollow was there. Pulsing. Waiting. I swallowed, confused, but my body responded like nothing was wrong. Full. Warm. Satisfied. How could it feel that way when part of me was empty?
Akari noticed my silence. "You're quiet today. Something happened at school?"
I shook my head, forcing a small shrug. "Just tired, I guess."
She studied me for a moment, then sighed. "You're down about something. You always are when you eat like that."
I wanted to tell her. Wanted to scream that something impossible had touched me, that something was inside me now. But I couldn't. Words stuck in my throat.
We ate together in a quiet rhythm. She asked about school, about friends, about small things. I tried to answer, but my mind drifted. The hollow pulsed with each bite, silent, patient, waiting.
"You've been… different lately," she said softly. "Not that you ever talk, but… more distant."
"I'm fine," I muttered again. My hands fidgeted with the chopsticks. I looked down at the table, trying to appear normal.
Her eyes didn't leave me. "You know, you can tell me anything, right?"
I nodded, but my throat felt tight. I couldn't tell her. Not yet. Not until I understood it myself.
When the meal was done, I quietly stood, avoiding her gaze. "I'll… take a shower."
The moment the hot water hit me, panic rose like a wave. I pulled my shirt off and stared down at my stomach. The hollow was real. Bigger than I remembered, smooth and black.
I reached toward it, hands trembling. The instant my fingers touched the void, it felt… glitchy, asleep, unreal. Nothing to feel, nothing to hold, nothing to grasp. My chest tightened.
I slipped. My foot slid on the wet tile. My head slammed against the floor. Pain shot through me, and my ankle twisted painfully. Blood ran freely into the drain. Tears blurred my vision.
And then… it surged.
I rose without control. My ankle snapped back into place, bone knitting itself with a sickening pop. My head wound closed, skin sealing with soft, wet sounds of flesh reconnecting. My chest heaved. My heart raced. My body was whole.
The hollow pulsed. Still empty. Still waiting. Still mine, and yet not mine.
I sank to the shower floor, water pouring over me, shaking, gasping, and for the first time, I understood. I had regenerated. I had no control. I had no explanation. I had no choice.
I was right, nothing would be the same nor normal again.
I stepped out of the shower, shivering, hair plastered to my forehead and neck. The tiles were wet, and the room smelled of rain, soap, and something sharp I couldn't name. My hands shook, trembling from what had just happened.
I looked down at my stomach. The hollow was still there, throbbing beneath my skin, pulsing like a heartbeat that wasn't mine. I swallowed hard. My chest felt tight, and a strange awareness prickled along my nerves.
Something was different.
I could feel it.
Not just the hollow, not just the emptiness—but the air around me. The tiles under my feet. The faintest draft from the window. A shift in Akari's presence in the next room. My mind zeroed in on every small movement, every sound, every detail I had never noticed before.
I froze, heart hammering, and tried to step toward the door.
A vase on the counter trembled slightly. My eyes tracked it without effort, without thinking. My body moved, almost before I did, catching it before it toppled. I blinked. My hands hadn't reached it yet.
What… just happened?
I took a step, then another. I felt the hollow inside me pulse again, and something strange surged through my muscles—strength, reflexes, a clarity I had never had before. I jumped over the puddle on the floor, landing lightly, balanced perfectly. My ankle, which had broken only moments ago, felt solid, unshakable.
I staggered slightly, testing my body. I could move faster, react faster, sense everything around me. Every sound, every heartbeat, every movement in the apartment was amplified. Even the faintest noise outside—the dripping of rain against the window—reached me with startling clarity.
I froze in the center of the bathroom, breathing heavily. My mind raced.
I could feel things… things I shouldn't be able to feel. Akari was in the kitchen, moving quietly, and I could tell her mood just by the way she shifted her weight, the slight tension in her shoulders. I had never noticed such small details before.
The hollow pulsed again, almost like a warning, a promise. My stomach was still full from dinner, warm and satisfied, yet empty at the same time, a reminder that I was… changed.
I backed away from the sink, splashing water onto the tiles, testing my reflexes. A soap bottle teetered on the edge. Before it even fell, I reached out, catching it, landing perfectly balanced.
Something inside me hummed. I was alive, stronger, faster, more aware.
And yet… I was terrified.
I sank to the floor, leaning against the wall, trying to catch my breath. The hollow throbbed, the pulse echoing in rhythm with my heart. My hands rested on my stomach, and I felt it again, the emptiness, the weight, the hunger, the promise of something that wasn't human.
I didn't know what I had become.
I didn't know if I could control it.
And deep down, I felt the first stirrings of a thought I couldn't name: I wanted more.
I wrapped myself in a thin blanket, still damp from the rain and the shower, and lay on my bed. The hollow pulsed gently inside me, like a quiet drum, reminding me I wasn't the same as yesterday. My body was whole, my injuries gone, but my mind was restless. I stared at the ceiling, watching shadows stretch across the room in the dim light, thinking about what had happened.
I didn't sleep right away. Every little noise felt sharper, every shadow heavier. I could feel the air pressing against my skin, the hum of the appliances, the faint stir of Akari moving around in the kitchen. My heart slowed as the night passed, and eventually, exhaustion claimed me.
Morning came in gray light. I woke slowly, blinking, realizing immediately that the hollow inside me was still there. My stomach pulsed, reminding me of what I had become, but this time it felt different. Less frightening, almost… empowering. I flexed my fingers and felt the strength humming in my arms. I could do things the world had never allowed me to do. I could change things. The government, the rules, the streets… all of it. My mind raced with possibilities.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood. The floor beneath me was solid, familiar, yet I could feel every detail, every vibration. I ran my hands over my arms, testing, and a thrill ran through me. What I held was unreal. It was mine.
I went through the motions of getting ready for school. Uniform pressed, hair combed just enough to stay out of my eyes, backpack slung over my shoulder. My heart felt lighter than yesterday. The fear hadn't left entirely, but it was tempered with something new. Hope, or maybe excitement—I couldn't tell.
Akari was already at the table when I walked into the kitchen. She looked up from her tea and smiled. "Good morning. You slept well?"
I nodded, trying to match her calmness. "Yeah… actually, I did."
She raised an eyebrow. "You sound… different. Happier?"
I shrugged, a small smile tugging at my lips. "Maybe. I don't know."
We ate breakfast together, rice and miso soup steaming in front of us. The hollow pulsed quietly, but for the first time, it didn't feel threatening. I could focus on the taste of the food, the warmth of the bowls in my hands, the soft hum of the apartment around us.
"You know," Akari said, breaking the silence, "you can tell me if something's bothering you. You don't have to carry it alone."
I shook my head gently. "I know. I just… it's complicated."
She nodded, not pressing further. We finished breakfast in comfortable silence. I left the table feeling… lighter, more alert. My steps were quicker, my senses sharper. The world seemed clearer than it had yesterday.
The rain tapped softly against the windows as I left for school. The streets looked the same, gray and endless, but I felt different walking through them. Stronger. Sharper. In control, at least in a way I had never been before.
I was Kurou Mayoi. Fifteen years old. And everything about me had changed.
Perfect. Let's dive into Kurou at school, interacting naturally with Mika, giving her depth and personality beyond just being a love interest. I'll describe her appearance, attitude, and quirks while keeping the Re:Zero-style first-person narration and subtle hints of budding connection.
The rain had eased to a steady drizzle by the time I reached school. The streets glistened, gray and endless, but I felt lighter today, sharper, almost… awake. My steps were quick, uniform still damp in places, hair plastered to my forehead, but I didn't care.
Inside the building, the hum of students filled the hallways. Lockers clanged, conversations overlapped, and footsteps echoed. I made my way to my classroom, nodding quietly to a few familiar faces.
"Mornin', Kurou," a voice called.
I looked up. Mika was leaning against the edge of the classroom door, arms crossed loosely. She had this natural ease about her, like the gray world couldn't touch her. Her hair was a soft brown, straight with a slight wave at the ends, framing her face just below her shoulders. Her eyes were sharp, amber-gold, and they seemed to notice everything—the way I held my bag, the slight slump in my shoulders, the tension in my fingers.
"Morning," I said, trying to sound casual.
She smirked, tilting her head. "You look… different today. Better, I think. Or maybe I'm imagining it."
I glanced down at myself, unsure how to respond. "Maybe," I muttered, brushing a damp strand of hair from my face.
"Maybe?" she echoed, stepping closer. "Don't do that. You're way too serious for your own good."
Her voice was light, teasing, but there was something sharp in her tone, like she could cut right through pretense. I felt a strange pull, wanting to say something clever, something that would make her laugh, but the words stuck in my throat.
"You're quiet too," she said, leaning against the wall beside me. "Not in a bad way… just… different."
I shrugged, trying not to overthink it. "I'm… fine."
"Uh-huh," she said with a knowing look. "Fine usually means something is up. I've known you long enough to read that."
I felt heat rise in my chest. Mika had that effect on people—she noticed, she remembered, she questioned, but she never pushed too hard. There was honesty in her curiosity.
The bell rang, and students began filing into the classroom. Mika slipped in beside me, dropping her bag quietly. I glanced at her, and she smiled, just slightly, that faint curve of her lips that seemed to make the gray morning brighter.
During class, she kept glancing at me, small gestures—a tilt of her head, a whisper to a friend when I caught her looking, the way she fiddled with her pen, pretending not to notice me. I couldn't focus entirely on the lesson. My mind kept drifting to her, to the way she moved, to the sharpness in her gaze.
When lunch came, she appeared again, tray in hand. "Come sit with us," she said, waving me over. Not just me, but a small group of friends.
I hesitated, but she smiled, that effortless, teasing smile. "Don't make me drag you."
I followed, feeling… nervous, and a little excited. She didn't just exist to make me feel something; she was curious, sharp, and confident, and I wanted to keep up, to match her energy without looking like a fool.
We sat together, and she nudged me lightly. "So, you've got that 'different today' thing going. Tell me, what's up?"
I shrugged, not meeting her gaze. "Nothing."
"Uh-huh," she said again, smirking. She wasn't fooled, and I didn't blame her. "You're bad at lying. You know that, right?"
I felt my chest tighten. There was something comforting in her bluntness, the way she didn't just gloss over things. She made me feel like I could… almost tell her everything, if I dared.
The conversation drifted to school nonsense, friends, small jokes. Mika laughed easily, animated but not fake, eyes sparkling. She wasn't just someone to look at or think about—she was alive, present, and real.
And I realized, sitting there, trying to match her energy and failing at times, that I didn't mind. I wanted to keep trying.
I also kinda feel like she's you know, crushing on me like how I'm crushing on her. Man I need her already bad.
The last bell rang, and the classroom emptied slowly, the usual chatter echoing in the hallways. I slung my bag over my shoulder and saw Mika waiting near the door, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed.
"Leaving already?" she asked, tilting her head.
"Yeah… thought I'd walk," I mumbled, trying not to seem too eager.
"Mind if I join?" she said, pushing off the wall with a grin.
I shook my head quickly. "Of course not."
The streets outside were wet, slick with rain from earlier in the morning. The drizzle had faded, leaving only a faint mist that clung to the neon signs and the vines creeping along the buildings. I fell into step beside her, noticing how her hair caught the light, brown with a subtle shine. She smelled faintly of soap and rain, and I realized my heart was doing that thing again—tightening in my chest for no reason at all.
We walked for a while in silence, letting the sound of our steps on wet asphalt fill the space. Then she spoke.
"So… how's the day treating you?" she asked.
"Better than yesterday," I said slowly, eyes on the puddles. "I… slept better. Ate breakfast better. Feeling… less like a zombie."
She laughed softly. "Less like a zombie, huh? Good to hear. I'd hate to have to drag you around like one."
I smiled, a little shyly, and decided to try something bold. "Hey… Mika," I said, trying to sound smooth, "are you… a thief?"
She raised an eyebrow. "A thief?"
I snapped my fingers with both hands, forcing a fake, awkward laugh. "Because you just stole my heart."
The silence stretched. Her eyes widened just slightly, and I could feel the heat rushing to my face. She stared at me for a long moment.
I cursed under my breath and gave a little shrug, trying to recover. "Okay… maybe that was bad," I said, laughing again, too loud this time.
Finally, she shook her head, smirking, and I let out a nervous breath. "You are hopeless," she said lightly, but her tone carried no malice—just amusement.
I laughed, a little embarrassed, and we continued walking.
"So," she said, tilting her head, "you think you can do better than that?"
I blinked. "Uh… I guess we'll see?"
She smiled, and suddenly the teasing was gone, replaced with something warmer, softer, almost intimate. "You know," she said, glancing sideways at me, "I like how you try, even when it's awkward."
I swallowed, heart hammering. "Thanks…"
"Don't mention it," she said, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "I'll even give you a chance to redeem yourself next time."
We walked a little further, the streets quiet except for the soft drip of leftover rain. Conversation drifted naturally—school, small jokes, music, plans for the weekend. She laughed easily, not forced, not dramatic, just genuine, and I realized I had never wanted to hear someone's laugh this much before.
She nudged me playfully. "So, are you always this serious, or is today just a lucky exception?"
I smirked. "Maybe today's just… a good day," I said, glancing at her.
She smiled, nudged me again lightly, and our steps fell into rhythm together, side by side, the gray city around us feeling a little less heavy, a little more alive.
We walked in silence for a few minutes, letting the sound of dripping rain and our footsteps fill the space. Mika had this way of moving that felt effortless, confident, and somehow steadying, like she belonged to this city more than anyone else. I couldn't help but notice it, the way she carried herself, the little quirks—how she tapped her fingers on her bag strap when she was thinking, how her amber eyes always seemed to catch the tiniest details.
"You've been quiet," she said suddenly, breaking the rhythm of my thoughts. "Not like the zombie days, but… quiet in a different way. Something on your mind?"
I hesitated. I wanted to tell her about the hollow, the cube, the power inside me, how reality felt like it had shifted overnight. But even with her, some things couldn't be said—not yet. "Just… thinking," I muttered.
She tilted her head, studying me. "You always think so much. You're… complicated, you know that?"
I chuckled softly, shaking my head. "Yeah, I guess."
There was a pause, and I felt the subtle tension between us—the unspoken familiarity, the history, the little glances and shared moments over the years. Mika wasn't just someone I liked. She had been around, in the background, quietly noticing me. Friends in middle school, lab partners in science class, occasionally partnered in group activities. She had this habit of remembering everything I said, even the smallest offhand comment, and sometimes I caught her watching me, like she was piecing together the real me, not the one I showed to everyone else.
"I remember," she said softly, almost to herself, "how you used to trip over your own feet in gym class. And you blamed it on the wind." She smirked. "You haven't changed much."
I laughed, the sound coming out easier than I expected. "I try not to," I said, smiling back.
Her smile lingered, warm and knowing, and for a moment the tension eased. But it was still there, under the surface, in the way she studied me, in the way my chest felt tight every time her gaze lingered. It wasn't just attraction—it was something deeper, something almost like a mutual understanding that neither of us had fully named yet.
"You've got a lot going on, don't you?" she said finally, stepping over a puddle. "Always buried in your thoughts, always serious. I like that about you, but…" She shrugged, eyes scanning mine. "…sometimes I wonder if you let anyone in at all."
I swallowed hard, unsure how to respond. "I… I don't know," I admitted. "It's complicated."
She nodded, but didn't push. Instead, she flicked a raindrop off her shoulder and smiled faintly. "Yeah, I get that. But hey, maybe one day you'll let me in. Until then… I'll just keep walking beside you."
I wanted to say something, to tell her that I had already started letting her in, that some part of me trusted her more than anyone else. But words felt small, inadequate. So I just nodded, letting the silence stretch, letting her presence speak for itself.
The subtle tension remained, a gentle hum in the air between us, like a thread connecting our steps, our glances, our shared history. I could feel it, pulling me forward, making my heart race without reason, reminding me that no matter what the hollow or the powers inside me did, some things, some people, still mattered.
And Mika… she mattered.
I hesitated, feeling the weight of her words in my chest. The mist hung low in the streets, curling around the neon signs and the wet pavement. I glanced at her and said quietly, "You know, I think I could let you in."
Mika froze for a moment and looked at me with wide eyes. "Wait, what?"
I scratched the back of my neck, trying to keep my voice steady. "I mean, I've never really said it before, but I think I could. If I trusted someone, you'd be the one."
Her eyebrows rose, not in surprise, but in curiosity. "Really? You? Trust me?"
I shrugged, feeling my face warm. "Yeah, I've known you a long time. You notice things. You remember things. You don't push too hard. I like that."
She blinked at me, and for a moment the gray world around us felt lighter. She smiled softly, almost shyly. "I didn't think you'd ever say that."
"Well," I said, trying to keep it casual, "there's a first time for everything." I forced a small laugh and felt my heart race.
She tilted her head, clearly amused. "You're smiling, and it's… weird, but I like it."
I laughed awkwardly, running a hand through my wet hair. "Yeah, I guess I'm a little weird too."
She smirked. "A little weird? Kurou, you're full-on strange, but I'll take it. I like it."
My chest tightened in a way that made me want to look away. "So, you'd still want to be around me, even if I'm like that?"
Her gaze softened. "Do you think that would stop me? You've always been interesting to me. Strange, serious, quiet, stubborn. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious."
I laughed quietly, glancing at my feet as we walked. "Curious, huh? Good to know."
She nudged me lightly with her shoulder and smiled. "Don't get too cocky. You're still going to have to earn my trust, step by step."
I grinned, feeling a spark of confidence. "Step by step, I can do that. Starting now."
Her smirk widened. "Bold words. I like it. So, what's step one?"
I pretended to think for a moment, then shrugged. "Just keep walking with me, talking with me. That counts as step one, right?"
She laughed, warm and easy. "Okay, fine. Step one it is. Don't think step two is going to be easy."
"Good," I said, smiling more genuinely. "I like a challenge."
She shook her head, still smiling, and we continued walking side by side. The mist clung to our clothes and hair, the gray city around us feeling less heavy, lighter somehow.
After a while, she asked, "So, why now? Why tell me this today? You've been quiet all these years."
I shrugged, glancing at her. "I didn't know how to before. I guess I wasn't ready. I'm still figuring things out, honestly."
She studied me for a moment. "I think we're not that different. We both have walls and secrets."
I felt a shiver of understanding. "Yeah, maybe."
Her eyes met mine directly, and she said softly, "The difference is, you're letting me in now. I like that."
I smiled, a little lighter inside than I had in a long time. "I'm glad. I really am."
She nudged me again, playful but gentle. I realized that this moment, this walk, the teasing, and the conversation was something I didn't want to end.
When we reached her building, she paused, looking up at the small balcony outside her window. "Well, this is it," she said.
I nodded, feeling awkward and nervous. "Yeah… here we are."
For a moment, neither of us moved. Then I did something impulsive—I offered her a dap. She raised an eyebrow, grinning. "A dap? Really?"
I shrugged, trying to act cool. "Yeah… a dap."
She laughed, full and easy, and our palms connected, making a perfect clap. "Okay, fine. That works," she said, still giggling.
We pulled back, smiling at each other. I hesitated before speaking, "See you tomorrow, Mika."
"See you, Kurou," she said, waving as she stepped inside.
I stood there for a moment, watching her go inside. Then I started walking home, but I couldn't help myself. I looked back, watching her window. She waved at me again. I waved back, smiling, feeling my chest tighten. I looked back a second time, and then a third, each wave leaving me more restless, obsessed even.
The streets were quieter as I left her building behind, mist curling along the edges of the pavement. I tried to focus on the way home, but my thoughts kept drifting back to her, to the sound of her laugh, to the way she smiled at me like it mattered.
Then, I felt it before I saw them. Three figures stepping from the shadows, blocking my path. Their jackets were black, faces mostly hidden by hoods, and they moved with a confidence that made my stomach drop.
HQO.
I recognized them immediately—one of the notorious street groups, known for violence and extortion. No one knew what the letters stood for. They didn't need a meaning. The reputation alone was enough.
Before I could react, two of them grabbed my arms, twisting them behind me. The third shoved me against the wall. They ransacked my pockets, pulling out my wallet, phone, and anything of value.
"Hey!" I shouted, struggling. "I saw your face! I'll tell the police!"
One of them sneered, hitting me across the ribs. Pain exploded in my side, and I gasped, my body slamming against the brick wall. Another hit caught me across the jaw, making stars explode in my vision.
They didn't stop. Punches rained down, kicking, twisting my limbs, each strike sharp and precise. My body screamed, broken bones bending, skin splitting, blood dripping from my lip and temple. I felt my teeth rattle in my skull, my ankle buckle under a kick.
Then the hollow inside me pulsed, a slow, deep rhythm that seemed to echo in my chest. My vision blurred, and the world narrowed to the white-hot pain of each strike.
And then it stopped.
I rose.
My ankle twisted back into place on its own, bone knitting audibly, the sharp crack echoing in the alley. My jaw mended, the blood coagulating and sliding down my chin. Bruises faded, torn skin sealed, and I felt the muscles in my ribs reconnect as if nothing had happened.
I staggered, barely realizing I was standing upright, looking at the three men with wide eyes. The hollow inside me pulsed, patient, waiting, and I felt a strange calm amid the chaos. They had beaten me badly, yes, but I was… whole. My body moved with a fluidity I had never known, senses sharper, reflexes faster, and strength humming beneath my skin.
One of the men stared at me, confused, then sneered. "What the hell…"
I said nothing. I just watched, chest heaving, eyes burning with something dangerous and unreadable. The hollow had marked me, and HQO was about to find out just how different I had become.
The alley smelled of rain and wet concrete. The eight men of HQO spread out around me, knives, bats, and fists at the ready. Their eyes were hard, faces shadowed beneath hoods. I could feel them all—their hesitation, their anger, the tension coiled like snakes in their bodies.
One of them, a tall man with a scar across his cheek, grunted. "We're gonna teach this punk a lesson."
They lunged together. I didn't think. I didn't plan. The hollow pulsed inside me, steady and patient, and my body moved before my mind even caught up.
I dodged the first knife by leaning back, feet sliding on the wet pavement. The blade cut through the air, missing my neck by inches. A kick caught another in the stomach, sending him into the wall. The others hesitated for a fraction of a second. That was enough.
I struck the nearest one with my shoulder, sending him sprawling. My fists moved almost on their own, each punch precise, breaking ribs, cracking jaws. I grabbed a bat from one of them mid-swing, twisting it in my hands and striking with it like it had been part of me all along. Bones shattered. Blood spattered, mixing with the rain.
From the corner of my eye, I sensed movement—someone coming from behind. I pivoted, ducking a swing, and delivered a kick that snapped his arm back against his body. He screamed.
They tried to surround me, but I could feel every heartbeat, every tension in their muscles. I moved between them like water, fast, fluid, unrelenting. When a knife came toward my stomach, I caught it with my bare hand, feeling nothing, twisting my body and driving my fist into his face. He crumpled.
One of them, crouched low, watching silently for the right moment, saw me clearly for the first time.
"What… what the hell is that?" he whispered to himself, his voice trembling. His eyes were wide, sweat and rain dripping down his forehead. "It's… it's not a human. It can't be. Look at it… its movements… it's like a demon. Every strike… too fast, too clean, too… precise."
I turned toward him, not consciously, but sensing his fear. My eyes locked onto his, and he flinched, as if I had looked straight into his soul.
I moved again. In seconds, two more men were down. A swing from a bat, a punch into a kidney, a kick to the chest. They fell one by one, trying to fight, trying to grab me, but I was faster than them, stronger than them, aware of everything before it happened.
The man from the corner backed up, hands trembling. "It… it's… not possible," he muttered. "We're supposed to be the strongest… and it… it just moves through us like we're nothing. It's—"
My fists struck him mid-sentence, and he collapsed, blood pouring from his nose and mouth. I barely noticed the motion, the hollow inside me pulsing as if approving.
By the time the last man tried to run, I had him pinned against the wall. His knife barely left his hand before it was ripped away, and a punch to his chest sent him sprawling. I didn't even hesitate as I struck again. His body went limp.
I stepped back, chest heaving, hands slick with rain and blood. The eight men of HQO lay in the alley, broken, lifeless. The rain fell softly over them, washing the street, but not washing away the horror of what had happened.
The surviving man's thoughts haunted me even as I stood there. He had called me a demon. And maybe… maybe I was. The hollow inside me pulsed, patient, waiting. I felt no triumph. Only the quiet, overwhelming certainty that I was different, that my body, my mind, my existence had changed forever.
I looked down at the alley, at the bodies, at my hands. I didn't feel fear. I felt power. I felt… the first hint of what it meant to hold something beyond human.
And I knew, deep in my chest, that there was no going back.
I woke to the gray light seeping through my window. Rain had returned overnight, tapping softly against the glass. For a moment, I stayed still, listening to it, letting the rhythm fill the space around me. But even that couldn't drown out the images that had invaded my mind. The alley. The bodies of HQO. The way each man had moved before I struck, the sounds, the blood, the hollow inside me pulsing in response.
I shivered, trying to push it aside. I wasn't sure if I could call it guilt. It felt heavier, stranger—like watching a nightmare over and over but knowing it had really happened.
"Kurou, breakfast's ready," Akari's voice called from the kitchen, breaking through my thoughts.
I shook my head, forcing a nod. "Coming."
In the kitchen, she was already at the table, flipping through her phone with a frown. "The government's such a bitch," she muttered. "I swear, they're just… ruining everything. Policies, prices, rules… I can't even."
I sat down quietly, trying to focus on the smell of the eggs and toast, on the warmth of the tea she poured. Her words floated past me, the frustration in her voice oddly comforting.
"And don't get me started on this new thing I'm seeing," she continued, smirking. "Situation-ship? Seriously? But it's… okay, fine, I like it. I think. Maybe. Honestly, it's complicated, but it's exciting too. Ugh."
I smiled faintly, listening, letting her words pull me from the images in my head. She had a way of talking that made everything feel smaller, lighter.
"Complicated?" I asked softly, more to keep myself tethered to reality than genuine curiosity.
She rolled her eyes and laughed. "Yeah, life's complicated, Kurou. Just like you. I swear you're too serious sometimes."
I chuckled, stirring my tea. "Maybe. I'm learning."
She leaned forward, eyes glinting with mischief. "Learning, huh? From what? You're always quiet lately. Spacing out or just plotting on taking that STUPID government out of place?"
I smiled faintly, a little more genuinely now. "Maybe a little of both."
She laughed, shaking her head. "You're hopeless. But fine, I'll allow it."
After breakfast, I left the apartment and started my walk to school. Halfway there, I spotted Mika standing beneath the awning of a closed storefront. She waved when she saw me, and the gray morning felt a little brighter.
"Morning," I said, adjusting my bag and forcing my mind to focus on the here and now.
"Morning, Kurou," she replied with a small grin. "You look… different again today."
I raised an eyebrow. "Different how?"
"Calmer, I think," she said thoughtfully. "Less… tense. But your eyes… they're still you."
I smiled faintly. "Thanks, I guess."
We started walking together, side by side, and her voice drew me in. "So, tell me something. Any interesting dreams last night?"
I shook my head, even as fleeting thoughts of the alley tried to sneak in. "Not really. You?"
She laughed softly. "Nothing worth noting. But I had this weird feeling like… the world's conspiring to annoy me. You know, like the government being ridiculous again."
I chuckled, feeling my mind finally ease. "Sounds about right. They never change."
We talked easily as we walked, Mika leading the conversation, teasing, joking, occasionally nudging me or making me laugh. My mind drifted from the alley, from HQO, from the hollow pulsing inside me. For the first time that morning, I felt like maybe I could act normal, just a bit, if only for the walk.
"You've got to tell me," she said suddenly, tilting her head with that mischievous smile, "how you actually deal with… everything. You're so quiet, but there's always something under the surface, isn't there?"
I hesitated, smiling faintly, trying not to betray too much. "I deal with it… somehow. One step at a time, I guess."
She laughed, not mockingly, but genuinely. "You're frustrating. But I like that about you."
I felt heat rise to my cheeks, just awkwardly laughing.
We walked in silence for a moment, side by side, listening to the soft patter of rain and the distant city noise. My chest felt lighter, my steps steadier. Mika's voice and presence pulled me from the darkness in my mind, from the memory of the fight, if only for a while.
And for the first time that morning, I felt like I could almost forget the killings from last night.
Perfect. Let's do Kurou and Mika walking to school, working together in first period, then talking on the way to second period, and continuing at lunch. I'll focus on natural dialogue, small moments of connection, and Kurou's internal observations, ending with him noticing how close they are.
We finally made it to school, the mist from the morning rain still clinging to the sidewalks. Mika nudged me lightly as we stepped through the gates.
"Race you to class?" she teased, grinning.
I raised an eyebrow. "You're on."
She took off with a burst of energy, and I sprinted after her, laughing despite myself. By the time we reached our classroom, we were both out of breath, clothes damp, hair sticking in odd places.
"You're terrible at running," she said, smirking as she leaned against her desk.
"I'm conserving energy," I replied, rolling my eyes. "Something you'll never understand."
She laughed, a genuine, bright sound that made my chest feel light. "Conserving energy, huh? Sure, that's it."
First period was history, and we were assigned to work on a small project together. Mika leaned over, sliding a notebook toward me.
"So, you handle the writing. I'll handle the research," she said, tapping the notebook with a finger.
I glanced at her, smiling. "You always take control, huh?"
"I just make sure it gets done," she said with a shrug. "You do the smart stuff. That's why we work well together."
I laughed softly. "Smart stuff, huh? Careful, I might get a big head."
She rolled her eyes but smiled, leaning closer as she pointed to a section of text. "Don't. You're already annoying enough."
I scribbled notes while stealing glances at her. She moved with such ease, flipping through pages, tapping her pen, humming under her breath. I realized I had been watching her longer than necessary. She caught me once and raised an eyebrow.
"You're staring again," she said, teasing but not cruel.
"Not staring," I said, trying to sound casual. "Just… observing."
"Observing," she repeated, smirking. "Right. Keep telling yourself that."
By the time the bell rang, we were halfway through our notes, laughing quietly at small mistakes or typos.
"Race you to second period?" she asked as we stood up.
I groaned but smiled. "You know I'll lose."
"Not if you focus," she said, nudging me with her shoulder as we walked.
We talked about everything on the way—teachers, classmates, small arguments over who could run faster, which anime was the best, who had the weirdest lunch habits. I laughed more in that short walk than I had in days.
When we reached second period, Mika leaned against the desk across from me. "You're smiling a lot today. Finally catching up to me?"
"Maybe," I said, smirking. "Or maybe you just bring it out of me."
She tilted her head, studying me. "Maybe. But don't get cocky. You still owe me a rematch for the first period race."
I laughed. "Deal. But next time, I win."
By lunch, we were sitting together again, this time at our usual table. The conversation drifted easily, teasing and laughing, swapping stories, sharing random thoughts. The world outside, the gray city, even the lingering memory of last night's events felt distant.
I watched her talk, gestures animated, eyes sparkling, and realized that I hadn't felt this… connected in a long time. She leaned closer to show me something on her phone, and our shoulders brushed. I didn't move away.
By the end of lunch, I noticed something startling. We had spent almost the entire day together, walking together, talking, laughing, working. We were practically glued to each other, and I didn't mind it one bit.
I smirked to myself quietly. Maybe Mika was going to be a problem.
The day had gone by in a flash. Classes, talks with Mika, laughter, even small victories in group work—all of it had blurred together. I barely noticed the time as I walked home through the misty streets, my mind still drifting to her.
Then I saw it.
The door to our apartment was wide open.
What the fuck? I thought, my heart hammering. The bags I carried dropped from my hands with a soft thud, groceries scattering slightly across the floor.
I pushed the door further and froze.
Akari was on the floor, collapsed, her eyes wide with fear. Around her, several men moved with quiet precision. HQO. They hadn't touched her, but the tension in the air made my stomach twist.
Thunder rolled overhead, loud and deep. The rain began to fall in torrents, hurling against the windows, soaking the floorboards that creaked under the storm's weight. My teeth clenched, my hands curled into fists. Rage burned in my chest, deep and pure.
A man stepped forward. Gray hair, pale skin, a suit that looked far too clean for this alley of a city. His expression was cold, sharp. "He will have to pay," he said quietly, almost amused. "His life… or hers. For messing with us."
I didn't speak. My mind worked faster than my tongue.
He tilted his head, studying me. "You'll decide."
The men stepped back from my sister, giving me space. My gaze flicked to Akari, to her trembling hands and tear-filled eyes. I could feel the hollow pulse, steady and patient, urging, preparing.
Then they moved.
A gun clicked.
Pain exploded as bullets tore into my skull and neck. My vision went white, the world fading as blood poured down my face and soaked my shirt. Akari screamed, the sound raw and desperate, cutting through the storm.
The man with gray hair knelt slightly, voice low, almost tender. "She could be useful. She could help us. We'll take care of her… or not. That's up to you."
Everything slowed. I felt the bullets, the tearing of flesh and bone, and yet… I rose.
Pain tore through me, sharp and deep, and then vanished. My vision blurred, blood regrowing, bone knitting itself back in place, my neck sealing shut, skull reforming. Flesh and muscle mended audibly, almost like wet leather snapping back together. My ankle twisted back perfectly, joints and ligaments realigning without effort.
I stood fully upright, drenched from the rain, chest heaving. My hands clenched until my nails dug into my palms. The hollow pulsed inside me, patient, awakening with a slow, terrifying hunger. I was no longer just Kurou. I was something more, something meant to survive, meant to punish.
The HQO men took a step back. The gray-haired one's eyes flickered with a brief trace of uncertainty. They hadn't killed me. They hadn't even grazed me permanently.
I didn't say anything. I just stared at them, teeth clenched, body trembling with rage and the pulsing power inside me. Thunder cracked overhead, a long, low rumble that seemed to echo my heartbeat.
The rain pelted harder, drenching everything, as I realized one thing: they had made a mistake.
And this time, it wasn't just about me.
It was about her.
The shot hit like an answer I did not expect. Pain flared bright and white across my skull and down my neck. For a second the world went thin, like paper burning at the edges. I tasted metal and rain and something that felt like the last thing I would ever taste.
Akari screamed. Her voice broke the room. She crawled toward me, hands shaking, tears on her face. "Kurou!" she cried. "Kurou, no!" Her voice was raw and small.
The gray-haired man crouched, watching the blood drip and the way my chest moved. He spoke softly, clean and practiced as if negotiating a business deal. "We will take her. Useful people are valuable. We will keep her safe. She will help us." He smiled the kind of smile that did not reach his eyes. "You can choose. You can pay. Or you can… disappear."
One of the men laughed under his breath. Another spat on the floor. They moved away from Akari like men who knew how to distance themselves from guilt.
My vision blurred. The room turned into wet shapes and angles. I heard the rain hard against the window, thunder like a drum. Then something switched in me. The hollow throbbed, slow and vast, and the pain narrowed into a single point. The sound of the gray man's voice became distant and small.
I rose.
Not with thought. Not with decision. I rose like something pulled a string inside me and straightened me up. The first bullet had hit my temple, the second had smashed the back of my neck. Warm blood ran down my face. For one breath I thought I would fall and never get up again.
Then my head knit. The skin sealed in a wet, sick sound. Bone mended with a dull snapping that made my teeth ache. My neck stung and then cooled as the torn muscle threaded itself back. The world snapped into focus around the edges. I blinked rain into my eyes.
Akari crawled closer until she was by my side, pressing tears onto the side of my face. "Kurou, please," she sobbed. "Please don't—"
I gripped her hand. Her fingers were ice and trembling. "Go," I said, my voice hoarse and not all my own. "Go now. Don't watch." My voice sounded small to me. To her it sounded like command. She scrambled away, stumbling down the hall, then ran. She did not look back.
The gray-haired man watched me with a new expression on his face. It was not the same calm. It was calculation folded over fear. "You should have died," he said, almost to himself. "You should have been gone."
I straightened fully. Rain drummed through the windows. The other men had their weapons half-raised, unsure now. Their confidence had been a coat they wore until it began to smell of blood and fear.
"Tell me where your headquarters is," I said. My hands were unclenched, open. The hollow pulsed in my gut, patient. "Tell me now and I will make sure you never touch anyone again. Tell me and I will not do this here."
The gray man laughed once, a brittle sound. "You think you can come after us? You are a boy. You have a hole in you, a trick of fate. You cannot destroy what we are." His words were meant to unnerve, to remind me of my size, my youth. He had already decided what I was to be.
"I will DESTROY YOU FROM THE INSIDE OUT" I said slowly. "Every link. Every man who answers to that name. Where is it?"
The room grew quiet except for the rain. One of the men stepped forward, trying to look brave. "We were ordered to handle him," he said. "We were told to teach him a lesson."
"Where is HQO?" I asked, voice flat.
The gray man looked to his men. For a breath they hesitated, eyes flicking, weighing the risk of lying against the risk of what came if they told me nothing. The smaller man swallowed and then spoke, voice crooked with fear.
"Block C, Dock three. Warehouse on the east bank. HQO. You… you want us to—"
The gray man cut him off with a hiss. "No more," he said too late.
I did not wait for the rest. When the man finished the address I moved. My first hit was not to kill. It was to shove the information down his throat and leave him with it. My fist met the gray man's cheek with a wet, angry sound. Blood spattered. He tried to step back and I hit him again. He fell to his knees coughing and spitting.
"You live," I said, each word a promise. "You live to tell them I am coming. You live to watch them die slowly from the rot I put inside them." My voice had no dramatic flourish. It was small, dead serious.
He tried to speak, throat red. "Please—"
I hit him again. Harder. I did not stop until he could not form words, until his face was a map of rain and blood and the parts of his features had been rearranged. That was the last thing I did in the apartment.
The other men tried to lurch up, to grab, to move. I moved between them in three steps. I did not care about mercy in front of witnesses. I cared about sending a message. They groaned and scrambled, but they stayed alive, injured, humiliated. None of them reached for their guns again.
When I stepped back the gray man lay on the floor, half conscious, eyes blown wide and glassy. His mouth was a dark, wet line. He coughed once and gave me the address again in wet whispers. He would carry it back like a fever.
Akari was gone. The apartment smelled of rain, blood, and the sharp clean of fear. I felt nothing like triumph. I felt a hard, bright thing in my chest that tasted like resolve. The hollow pulsed patient. My hands were slick but steady.
"Get out." I said to the men, voice low. "Leave this place and never come back."
They left. They limped, they stumbled, they cursed. They left with small tears in their pride. The gray man did not move until they were gone. When the last door closed the apartment felt enormous and empty.
I stood alone in the rain's sound. My knuckles throbbed. My body did not ache. The hollow inside me pulsed slow and vast, like an engine warming up. I closed my eyes, tasting rain and blood and something like cold steel.
I did not feel guilt the way I thought I would. I felt a direction. I had a map, and a promise, and a hole inside that would not be quiet until it was fed with the thing I intended to take from them: their safety. I would take it apart piece by piece.
I went to the window. Outside, the city blurred in the downpour. I had the address and the night ahead of me. The gray man would wake with a face he barely knew. His men would speak. Hollow Works would learn a name.
Inside, the hollow pulsed once, slow and sure, like a beast that had found its scent. I breathed the rain in and let it fill me.
I WAS NOW GONNA ELIMINATE THIS DUMBASS GROUP.