Tenshi walk along the narrow road that wound between two shadow-draped forests overlooking a Japanese town. The air smelled of damp pine needles and morning mist, and his stomach gave a mournful growl that echoed louder than the chirping birds. He pressed a hand against his this withered body as if that might calm the rumbling, though it only reminded him how empty he is.
To distract himself, he drifted into one of his daydreams—his favourite place to escape. In his imagination he could sit in a warm café, order any meal he wished, maybe even share a shortcakes with a cute girl who didn't mind his personality or old clothes. There, he wasn't Tenshi the debt-ridden worker; he was Tenshi the normal boy, laughing at karaoke, watch movies with friends and going to school like everyone else his age. The fantasy was so pleasant he almost missed the turn toward the shrine.
The shrine sat crookedly on the hillside like an elderly worker who had long ago grown tired of standing straight. Moss clung to its wooden frame. Wind chimes sway weakly, as if shivering. Tenshi sighed, and began clearing the leaves scattered across the courtyard.
He brushed aside a mound of them—and froze. Half-buried beneath the damp foliage was a small stone amulet, no larger than the palm of his hand. It was cool and unexpectedly heavy, carved with faint symbols he didn't recognize. Curiosity prickled through him. He glanced around. No one.
Tucking it into his black bag, he stepped inside the shrine and found an assortment of objects scattered about the floor—silver coins dulled by age, tiny figurines, even a stone statue half his height. It was as though the shrine had been gathering secrets for centuries, waiting for someone—anyone—to bother noticing.
By the time the sky blazed orange with sunset, Tenshi was already making his way down the mountain. He followed a winding path that led into a narrow, questionable driveway guarded by a man whose appearance would have frightened most people into turning around immediately. The man was dressed head-to-toe in black, his arms entirely inked with tattoos that peeked out from his sleeves like a snake. His eyes flicked to Tenshi, sharp and watchful.
Without a word, Tenshi handed over the black bag filled with amulets, coins, and statues—the day's findings. The man gave a nod pick up the bag and disappeared indoors. That was all. No gratitude, no farewell. Tenshi didn't expect any.
He walked back home as moon rise from the edge of the forest, thinking reluctantly about his situation. The paper in his pocket rustled—a reminder of the seven million yen he owed. Seven million. He tugged it out and stared at the star as he walked. Which organ did I sell last time? he wondered. Kidney for two million… liver for one…
A smile appears on his face. "Maybe I can sell something else" he muttered. "I don't needs all my organs anyway?"
His house greeted him with darkness and the stale smell of old wood. For dinner, he ate plain sliced bread, no jam, no toppings—just stale white bread and silence. Then he collapsed into his mattress , slipping into dreams where hot food and warm company actually existed.
Tonight, he found himself eating a hamburger beside a girl who smiled as if she'd known him all her life. They watch movies about witch together, and for once he felt normal, even happy. He tried to stay in the dream, but dawn always came too soon.
The next morning, Tenshi grabbed his father's old chainsaw—worn and scratched from years of use—and walk into the woods to cut firewood. Winter wasn't far, and without enough wood he'd freeze. His father had died in a chainsaw accident years before, a memory that often rose like an unwanted ghost. Tenshi pushed it away and kept working.
When he returned to the shrine later that day, he resumed brushing away leaves, though his mind wandered as usual. Then, something gleamed faintly beneath the foliage. Something not quite natural.
He knelt, brushed aside the leaves, and gasped.
A halo—if it could even be called that—lay there in four uneven pieces. Each fragment was bound to the others by chains and thin metallic wires. It was mechanical, yet strangely otherworldly; part machine, part relic, part dream. A soft hum tickled the air around it.
Tenshi's breath quickened.
Can I collect this? Should I? If they catch me, I'm dead… but how would they even know? And it's not like I have anything left to lose.
His fingers trembled as he reached out.
The instant he touched the halo, the world freeze.
The shrine dissolved like sand underwater.
Tenshi's consciousness dropped into a dream—one unlike any he had experienced before. He stood in a vast garden where thorny vines made of glistening blood curled around a towering door. Roses bloomed there too, but their petals were crystals that refracted light like broken rainbows. A chill ran down his spine, though he didn't know whether it was fear or not.
Then a voice—calm, silent , and impossibly close—slipped into his mind.
"Tenshi… this is a contract.
I will give you everything.
In return, I will be your heart…
and you must LIVE."
Before he could speak—before he could even understand—darkness swept over him, and he collapsed into a deep, slumber.
When Tenshi finally wakeup, the world around him glowed with a brilliant orange—so bright and warm. For a moment, he wondered if he was dreaming again. But as he pushed himself upright, from lying on the shrine floor, he realized the truth: he had slept nearly half a day.
Determined, he began searching for anything the shrine might have offered. His hopes were high, but his findings was pitiful —a small wooden amulet carved with spiraling patterns, and a stone necklace cracked cleanly down the middle. Hardly enough. Hardly ever enough.
With a deepening sense of dread, Tenshi made his way down the mountain path toward the yakuza hideout. The evening breeze carried the scent of earth, as he clutched the small bag of offerings. Will this be enough? he wondered. Will they think I'm slacking? His stomach twisted at the thought.
The hideout rose before him—gloomy, silent, and steeped in shadows. As he dropped the disappointingly small black bag into the guard's waiting hands, a voice suddenly break out.
"Tenshi! Get inside!"
The shout was sharp. Tenshi barely had time to blink before quick, heavy footsteps echoed behind him.
Then—pain. A hot, blinding sting in his back.
He staggered, breath catching in his throat. Instinct surged; he ran. His blood pattered on the floor behind him like a trail of red raindrops. Heart hammering, he lunged toward the exit—
—but more figures appeared from the darkness.
hands shoved him down. Voices shouted. Someone punched him. Tenshi couldn't tell whose hands were grabbing him—whose silhouette hovered—everything blurred together into panic and agony.
This is it, Tenshi thought. This is really my end. I don't wanna die.
His world dimmed as they took his left hand. Pain, shouting, cold floor—then nothing but an emptiness stretching outward. And as the world faded completely—
he felt the sharp, terrible sensation of something slicing across his neck.
But instead of dying…
He awoke.
Or… something like awakening.
He found himself standing in that dreamlike garden again—the one with the crystalline roses and blood-red thorns. The air shimmered with otherworldly stillness. Tenshi looked around, dazed. Heaven? he wondered. Or the gates beyond?
In the distance stood the door—massive, thorn-bound, humming faintly like a heartbeat. As he stepped toward it, a voice, gentle yet ancient, spoke again inside his mind:
"Tenshi.
Do you remember our contract?"
Before he could answer, the world warped around him, folding like grass in a storm. A shadow pulled him back—dragging him out of the garden, out of the dream, out of death itself.
His body convulsed.
His head—the one that had been severed—melted away like wax under flame. A new form pushed through, reshaping him. Teeth long and razor-sharp curled into a monstrous grin. A grim, metallic sickle jutted from his arm, gleaming under the flickering hideout lights. Chains clinked faintly around the invisible halo pieces buried somewhere deep inside him.
And Tenshi—no longer entirely human—rose.
What followed was a blur of motion. Shadows darting. Screams. Footsteps pounding. Not one man there understood what they faced—not until it was far too late. Some pleaded. Some fled. Others froze where they stood, unable to process the what happen right before them.
Followed by a scream, some begging , some fighting while most run nevertheless Within minutes, the hideout lay silent.
Moonlight shrine through broken windows, pale and cold, illuminate Tenshi's body in the corner of the room. His monstrous features had faded, leaving only a boy—fragile, exhausted, and drenched in blood not entirely his own. The moonlight seemed to cast a silver cloak over him as he slumped against the wall and finally fall unconsciousness.
By morning, the sun climbed the sky in soft golds. A passing driver, shaken after hearing a terrible scream the previous night, had alerted the police.
When the officers arrived and pushed open the creaking doors of the hideout, the sight they found halted them in their tracks. The air thick with metallic scent. The rooms were eerily still, as though time itself had stopped.
Bodies scattered—some collapsed when they had tried to flee, others get cut into pieces , all touched by a violence far beyond ordinary human strength.
One officer exhaled shakily. "What in the world happened here…?"
Then, in the corner, a figure moved.
Tenshi.
Alive. Barely. Covered head-to-toe in dried crimson blood, but breathing. Human—at least in appearance.
The officers exchanged grave looks. Something about the scene demanded answers, and Tenshi—weak, ghostly pale, but alive—was the only one capable of giving them.
"Get him up," one of them shouted.
"We're taking him to Tokyo."
And so, Tenshi was lifted from the ruined hideout, dawn glinting off the dried blood on his skin, as his life began to shift toward something far stranger—and far more dangerous—than he had ever imagined.