Chapter Eighteen: The Dead Boy Walks
The whispers didn't stop.
By midweek, the entire school buzzed with scandal. Posters of Yuna once hung in clubrooms as the "idol of Shinjuku Academy." Now, those same walls carried her shame — whispers of "monster lover," messages scrawled across her desk.
Yuna sat in silence, her eyes forward, her mask cracking.
Mei's smile grew sharper each day. She sat in the front row, pretending to take notes, while her phone hummed with fresh gossip she herself had seeded.
Finally, it boiled over.
At lunch, a group of boys cornered Yuna in the courtyard.
"Hey, Arisaka," one sneered. "How's your monster boyfriend?"
Another mimed claws, growling, sending waves of laughter through the crowd.
"You kissed that thing, didn't you?"
Her fists clenched, but she didn't rise. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction.
And then a hand slammed down on the table.
The crowd went still.
A boy stood there — tall, lean, dark hair matted against his forehead. His uniform was disheveled, his eyes sharp, glowing faintly under the sun.
Renji.
Gasps tore through the courtyard.
"No way…"
"He's supposed to be dead!"
"Didn't we go to his funeral?"
Mei's phone slipped in her hand. Her blood ran cold.
Renji's gaze swept across the crowd, his voice low, commanding, in Japanese:
「彼女に触れるな.」
("Don't touch her.")
No one moved. The weight of his presence was suffocating, a ghost returned from the grave.
Finally, his eyes found Yuna. For the first time, under daylight, in front of everyone, he gave her the faintest smile.
And Yuna, trembling, felt her heart burst with relief.
The dead boy had come back for her.
Chapter Nineteen: The Monster in Daylight
The courtyard held its breath.
Renji stood under the gray sky, rain dripping from the edges of the roof. His presence was unreal, a ghost walking among the living. Every pair of eyes followed him, wide with fear or disbelief.
"Renji…?" a teacher whispered. "But… we buried you…"
The whispers multiplied.
"Is this a joke?"
"No, I saw his coffin—"
"He's not human…"
Mei forced her composure, her lips curling into a poisonous smile.
"Well," she said sweetly, "isn't this touching? The dead boy returns… for his queen."
Yuna stood, her hand trembling. But when her eyes met Renji's, the storm inside her calmed.
He didn't need to say it. His presence alone said everything: You're not alone anymore.
Then, the air shifted.
A shadow fell over the courtyard. Windows cracked. Phones fizzled.
From the rooftop, something stirred — a shape pulling itself through reality, black smoke twisting into a body. A yokai, drawn by Renji's presence, had slipped into the daylight.
Students screamed, scattering. Mei stumbled back, her face paling.
Renji's eyes burned. He stepped forward, his voice a growl in Japanese:
「出てくるとはな…昼間に.」
("So you dare to appear… in daylight.")
The creature roared, leaping from the rooftop.
Gasps turned to chaos as desks shattered, glass rained down. Teachers shouted, students fled — but the monster was already in their midst.
Renji moved. Fast. Too fast for human eyes. His body flickered invisible, reappearing behind the beast with claws tearing through its hide. Blood sprayed across the school walls.
Screams echoed. Phones captured everything.
The truth could no longer be hidden:
The dead boy was alive.
And he was a monster.
Chapter Twenty: The Beast Unchained
The courtyard of Shinjuku Academy erupted into chaos.
Students shrieked as they fled, scattering across the cracked pavement. Teachers yelled for calm, but their voices drowned beneath the roar of the creature that had descended from the rooftops. The yokai loomed in daylight, a thing not meant for the sun — its body trailing black smoke, three jagged horns sprouting from its head, claws tearing trenches into the earth with every step. Its presence twisted the air, making reality itself shiver.
And there, in the center of the chaos, stood Renji.
He was half-there, half-not, his form flickering like a broken reflection. His eyes glowed faintly, his chest rising and falling with steady control. He stepped forward, placing himself between the rampaging monster and Yuna.
Phones rose. Screens lit. Students gasped and whispered.
"I-is that… Renji?"
"No way. He's dead. We buried him."
"Then… what is he?"
Renji's jaw tightened. He could feel every eye on him, every camera capturing his existence. If he fought recklessly, there would be no hiding what he had become.
The yokai lunged.
Renji moved — a blur of shadow and speed. He appeared at the creature's flank, claws flashing. Black ichor sprayed across the pavement as the beast howled. His movements were sharp, controlled. Efficient. He struck at its joints, its throat, its spine, always disappearing before the crowd could fully comprehend.
But the restraint was unbearable.
Each time he phased through the beast's body, hunger burned inside him, demanding release. His claws itched for more. His fangs ached. And still, he forced himself to hold back.
He couldn't let them see the monster.
Then, the yokai's head twisted. Its three glowing eyes locked on her.
Yuna.
She stood frozen at the edge of the courtyard, her hand gripping her chest, rain plastering her hair to her face. She had nowhere to run.
The yokai roared and surged forward, its claws slashing desks and scattering terrified students as it barreled straight for her.
Renji's heart stopped.
"Yuna!" His voice tore from his throat, guttural, raw.
And then restraint shattered.
The roar that followed was inhuman. It reverberated through the ground, rattling windows, silencing every scream in the courtyard. His body convulsed, veins glowing with black fire that split across his skin. His claws lengthened into curved blades, his teeth sharpened, his eyes burned crimson.
The beast inside him was free.
Renji blurred, faster than sight, colliding with the yokai mid-charge. The impact cracked the pavement, sending shockwaves across the courtyard. His claws sank into its throat, his fangs into its flesh.
The monster writhed, shrieking, its smoky form thrashing violently. Renji pinned it down, tearing and drinking its essence. Black ichor sprayed across his face, staining his skin as his body absorbed the creature's strength.
The courtyard was frozen. Dozens of students watched, pale with terror, their phones trembling in their hands.
"He's… he's eating it…"
"God, he's not human…"
"What the hell is he?!"
Renji rose slowly, his chest heaving, his body steaming as the last of the yokai dissolved into ash beneath him. His claws dripped with blood, his eyes glowed like twin embers in the rain.
For one unbearable moment, he turned his gaze to the students.
And the hunger surged.
He could hear their heartbeats, smell their fear, taste their panic. The beast screamed to devour, to rip and drink until nothing was left. His claws twitched. His breath came ragged.
The crowd held its breath, waiting for death.
And then—
"…Renji."
Her voice.
Yuna stood among them, trembling but unflinching. Her eyes locked onto his, wide with tears, but filled not with hatred — with love.
The beast snarled inside him, but her gaze cut deeper than hunger.
Renji staggered back a step, forcing his claws to retract, forcing the glow to dim. His breathing slowed, his body flickered, pulling itself back into something human.
But the damage was already done.
The teachers had seen.
The students had seen.
The cameras had seen.
Renji Arisaka — the boy who was supposed to be dead — had returned. Not as human. Not as ghost.
But as something else.
A monster.
Chapter Twenty-One: Whispers of a Hunt
The courtyard was still.
The yokai's ash scattered across the cracked pavement, carried away by the cold drizzle. Students pressed against the walls and gates, wide-eyed, their breaths shallow, their phones still trembling in their hands.
No one spoke. No one dared move.
Renji stood in the center, his body steaming, his clothes torn, his face smeared with black ichor. He looked less like a boy who had once walked among them and more like something that had crawled out of a nightmare.
A single word broke the silence.
"Monster…"
And then it spread like fire.
"He's a monster—"
"He's not human!"
"He was dead, I swear, I went to his funeral—"
Renji's gaze swept across them. Their fear pressed into him like a weight. Their hatred, their terror, their disbelief — it all screamed louder than the hunger in his blood.
Then, softly, through the storm of whispers:
"…Renji."
Yuna's voice.
She pushed through the wall of students, her steps shaky, her hands trembling, but her eyes locked only on him.
"Yuna, don't—!" a classmate hissed, grabbing her arm, but she shook them off and walked forward until she stood only a few feet away.
Her chest rose and fell, her lips parted, her eyes wet. She had seen everything — the claws, the fangs, the feeding. And still, she whispered, "It's you. It's really you."
Renji's throat closed. His claws twitched. For the briefest moment, he wanted to reach for her, to hold her, to pretend he could still belong in her world.
But the crowd's whispers burned into him. Monster. Freak. Ghost.
He turned, his body flickering, and vanished into the rain.
The school descended into madness.
Teachers scrambled to usher students inside. Some fainted, others sobbed, others clutched their phones like lifelines. Videos already spread across social feeds, shaky clips of Renji's claws ripping into the yokai, of his glowing eyes turning toward the crowd.
Within hours, hashtags blazed across the net.
#GhostOfShinjuku
#MonsterBoy
#Resurrection
Authorities issued vague statements about "hallucinations" and "gas leaks," but the footage was undeniable. Something impossible had happened in broad daylight, and the world was watching.
That evening, in the safety of her family's penthouse, Yuna sat curled on her bed, hugging her knees. The city lights sprawled outside her window, cold and distant. Her phone buzzed with endless messages — pity, mockery, accusations.
"Monster lover."
"Witch."
"Traitor."
Her hands shook, but she ignored them all. Only one truth mattered.
Renji was alive.
And he was suffering alone.
Her eyes burned as she whispered to herself, "I'll find you."
Across town, Mei poured herself a glass of wine in her darkened apartment, the glow of a dozen screens reflecting in her eyes.
The footage looped again and again — Renji's monstrous outline, Yuna's desperate face, the world's disbelief.
Mei smiled slowly, tilting her head as she saved each clip.
"Well, Arisaka Yuna…" she purred, her voice dripping venom. "Your little ghost has finally stepped into the light. Let's see how long you can protect him now."
And in the shadows of the city, Renji crouched on a rusted rooftop, his body still steaming, his claws flexing. His heart pounded with rage, with hunger, with shame.
But louder than all of it was Yuna's voice, echoing through his head.
It's really you.
He closed his eyes.
And for the first time, he wondered if being seen — truly seen — was worse than being dead.
Chapter Twenty-Two: Hunted Shadows
The city never slept.
Neon lights buzzed in the drizzle, traffic roared beneath the towers, and people carried on as if nothing had changed. But in every alley, every izakaya, every glowing convenience store, whispers spread.
The videos had gone viral.
The Ghost of Shinjuku.
A boy once dead, now alive.
A monster who fed on demons in broad daylight.
Renji felt the weight of those whispers pressing against him as he crouched on the rooftop of an abandoned building. His chest still steamed, his body ached from the transformation, and his veins burned with leftover yokai essence.
He looked at his hands — human for now, but still trembling, the claws itching beneath the skin.
"…Kuso." His breath fogged in the night. "They saw everything."
A siren wailed far below. Police vans swarmed the school district, lights flashing. He could hear snippets of panicked voices over radios, the bark of orders. It wasn't just police. He smelled something else. Old blood. Steel. Salt.
Hunters.
Renji gritted his teeth. He wasn't ready for them. Not yet.
He vanished into the rain, flickering through alleys like a shadow.
Meanwhile, the world inside Shinjuku Academy had turned into hell for Yuna.
She walked through the halls with her head high, but the air was thick with stares. Girls who used to beg for her attention now whispered loud enough for her to hear.
"She knew all along."
"She's protecting that thing."
"Beautiful face, rotten taste."
A boy leaned against her locker, smirking. "Hey, Arisaka. Tell me—does it feel good being fucked by a monster?"
Laughter erupted from the group behind him.
Yuna froze. Her nails dug into her palms, but she didn't lash out. That was what they wanted. Instead, she turned her gaze on him — sharp, cold, a look that could shatter glass.
The boy faltered, his smirk breaking. Yuna slammed her locker shut without a word and walked away, heels clicking against the tile.
But when she was alone, in the bathroom with the door locked, her shoulders shook. Tears blurred her reflection.
She whispered to herself, "Stay strong. For him."
That night, under the neon glow of Kabukicho, Renji slipped into a forgotten corner of the city — a place where the homeless huddled around barrels of fire, where the air reeked of sewage and spilled beer.
He thought he was alone.
Then came the voice. Low. Male. Smooth.
"You're sloppier than I expected."
Renji spun, claws half-formed, eyes glowing faintly red. A man stepped out from the shadows, tall, draped in a black coat. His hair was silver at the edges, his smile too calm.
He carried no weapon that Renji could see, but his scent was unmistakable. Steel. Ash. Blood.
A hunter.
The man tilted his head. "So it's true. The ghost lives. And he hungers."
Renji's body tensed, the beast inside him roaring for blood. "Who the hell are you?"
The hunter's smile widened.
"Your worst nightmare."
Chapter Twenty-Three: Fangs and Chains
The rain fell harder, pounding against the neon-lit rooftops of Kabukichō. Renji crouched low, claws extended, his breath steaming in the night air. The man in the black coat stood opposite him, calm as still water, as if the downpour didn't touch him at all.
For a long moment, neither moved.
Then, the hunter spoke.
"You're not yokai. Not exactly human either. Something in between." His silver hair gleamed under the signs of a love hotel. "We call things like you kegare — tainted."
Renji's lips curled back, revealing a flash of fangs. "I don't care what you call me."
The hunter smiled thinly. "Good. You won't live long enough for names to matter."
He moved faster than Renji expected. A chain snapped from his sleeve, glowing with etched seals. It wrapped around Renji's arm before he could phase fully, burning his skin like acid.
"GAAAH!" Renji staggered, the smell of seared flesh rising in the rain.
The hunter yanked the chain, slamming Renji into the rooftop. Tiles shattered. Lightning-fast, he produced a blade from his coat — short, curved, engraved with wards that hummed with ancient power.
Renji rolled just as the blade struck where his skull had been. The ground hissed as if the sword itself rejected the world.
The hunter pressed forward. Each strike came clean, merciless, designed to cripple, not wound. Renji clawed and dodged, his movements flickering in and out of visibility. But the chains followed, glowing, always managing to sear him when they caught.
The man's eyes narrowed. "You're holding back."
Renji's chest heaved. His veins burned with hunger, his beast screamed for blood. But Yuna's face flashed in his mind. If he lost himself now, if he fed again in front of this man, there'd be no turning back.
"Shut up."
He roared and lunged, claws flashing, finally letting his strength burst free. His swipe cleaved through air, tearing neon signs apart. Sparks showered across the rooftop.
The hunter's eyes gleamed. "Good."
At Shinjuku Academy, Yuna's war was quieter but no less brutal.
She sat in class, eyes forward, pretending to listen as the whispers grew thicker. Every glance, every laugh, every pointed look cut sharper than knives.
Then came Mei.
She stood at the front of the room, radiant, her uniform perfectly fitted, her smile polished. She had always been beautiful, but now she shone brighter — because she knew Yuna was wounded.
"Poor Yuna," Mei said sweetly, loud enough for the class to hear. "Still waiting for a ghost to come back and hold her hand. How… romantic."
Laughter rippled through the room. Yuna's jaw clenched, but she didn't rise to it. Mei stepped closer, leaning against Yuna's desk, her perfume sharp as poison.
"Tell me, Yuna… when he kissed you, did he taste like blood?"
The laughter turned crueler. Phones rose discreetly. This wasn't just bullying — it was a show, a public dethroning.
Yuna's nails dug into her desk until wood splintered beneath her fingertips.
She whispered, only for herself, "Renji… please come back soon."
Back in Kabukichō, Renji's claws finally met flesh. He tore across the hunter's chest, blood spraying into the rain.
But the man didn't fall. He only smiled, wiping the blood with his thumb and licking it.
"Stronger than I thought," the hunter murmured. "Good. That means the bounty on your head will be very high."
Renji froze. "…Bounty?"
The man's smile sharpened into something monstrous. "The whole city wants the Ghost of Shinjuku. And I intend to deliver."
The chains glowed brighter, wrapping around Renji's throat.
For the first time, Renji realized this fight wasn't just survival.
It was war.