"Your fresh, milky blood… it carries such a pleasing aroma."
The creature's voice slithered across Yuna's face on the cold night wind, its tone warped and treacherous, every word soaked in hunger.
It continued to press her back toward the edge of the bridge, claws flexing in anticipation as if it were already imagining them tearing into her skin. Her mind raced, thoughts stumbling over each other as she fought for composure. They're getting smarter…? I–I don't believe it… She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat heavy and painful, sweat beginning to bead along her skin despite the chill.
But she wasn't the only one there.
Behind the fractured wall of an old building overlooking the bridge, Takumi watched in silence. He kept his profile low, his breath controlled as faint puffs of warmth slipped from his mouth and vanished into the cold air. His eyes stayed fixed on Yuna and the monster, studying every movement, searching for an opening.
He didn't have the luxury of time.
Then he saw it—a maintenance light hanging above the walkway, its fixture loose and strained, swaying slightly on a weakened cable. One good hit and it could come down. Better yet, it was positioned directly above the creature's masked head.
"One good toss should do it," he murmured.
He crouched and picked up a medium-sized rock, its surface smooth and weighty in his palm. If he hit the cable at the right angle, the light would fall, buy Yuna a window to escape—and with that, he could draw the creature's attention away from her and onto himself.
"If I can hit that weak point, I can pull its attention onto me…" he murmured, steadying his breath. He stepped out from cover just enough to expose himself, eyes sweeping the surroundings one last time, measuring distance, angle, timing.
"I see. Here goes nothing."
This time his voice carried. Takumi advanced a fraction closer, planting his feet and putting far more force into the throw than any ordinary person would dare. His arm cut through the air in a smooth, controlled arc.
"Hey! Mask freak—over here!"
The rock tore through the night, slicing through the wind at breakneck speed. It spun cleanly, gathering momentum as it crossed the gap, a blur of motion driven by precision rather than desperation.
The creature's head snapped toward the shout. Its glowing eyes locked onto Takumi, and a furious roar followed—raw, immediate, decisive. In that instant, its intent shifted entirely. Takumi was no longer a distraction.
He was prey.
As the creature drew back to launch itself forward, the rock struck its mark. The weakened fixture above cracked sharply, metal shrieking as the impact reverberated. The rock ricocheted downward, slamming against the creature's mask and staggering it just long enough for gravity to finish the job.
The light gave way.
It dropped like a fallen lantern, crashing down onto the creature's head with brutal force. The impact drove it into the ground, stone and concrete buckling beneath its weight as it roared in rage and pain.
That moment was all Yuna needed.
She turned and ran, feet pounding down the narrow staircase, the distance stretching with every step. By the time she hit the street and disappeared into the maze of the city, the creature was still tearing itself free—wounded, furious, and no longer interested in anything but the one who had dared provoke it.
Takumi.
"You…" the creature groaned, its voice warped and ragged, vibrating with unrestrained fury as it struggled back into motion. "Meal. Tear you." Each word was dragged out like a threat carved into stone. It roared again, louder this time, the sound tearing through the air as its rage swelled, feeding on the sight of Takumi standing before it.
Takumi did not flinch. He met the creature's glare without hesitation, his expression calm, almost indifferent, as if acknowledging an inevitability rather than fearing it. "You want your teeth on me?" he said evenly. "Then come and get me."
With that final provocation, he turned sharply and broke into a run, moving the instant the words left his mouth.
"I will," the creature shrieked, its voice twisting into a savage promise. "Slaughter!"
It hurled itself forward in the same breath, claws tearing into the ground as it launched after him, every ounce of its fury now focused on a single target.
Its spider-like limbs scraped against the wide expanse of bare cement, each movement heavy yet unnervingly precise. The sound of claws striking stone echoed just behind Takumi, close enough that he could feel the vibration of its pursuit even without looking back.
The creature shifted effortlessly from ground to wall, its limbs biting into vertical surfaces as it scuttled upward along the sides of buildings. It moved with unnatural speed, traversing brick and concrete as though gravity held no authority over it. Above, it leapt from structure to structure, keeping pace with frightening ease.
Below, Takumi sprinted through the city streets, weaving into alley after alley, each passage different from the last—some narrow and suffocating, others open but cluttered with debris. He changed direction constantly, forcing the chase through a maze of paths, yet no matter where he turned, the creature remained close, its presence pressing down on him from every angle.
"Faster than I expected for something that twisted," Takumi murmured under his breath, forcing the words out as he ran. "Agile, too." The observation was calm, analytical, even as his legs burned and the sound of pursuit pressed close behind him.
Ahead, he spotted it—a descending staircase tucked between two buildings, leading into a passage far narrower than the streets above. Without hesitation, he took it, slipping downward and squeezing into the tight corridor beyond. The space constricted immediately, walls closing in just enough for him to pass through at speed.
The creature reached the entrance moments later.
Its body slammed to a halt, sheer mass preventing it from following. Snarling in frustration, it forced its massive head forward into the opening, claws scraping violently against the stone as it tried—and failed—to push through.
Then it roared.
The screech that followed was sharper, focused, weaponized. Sound burst outward in a violent ring, the pressure ripping down the narrow passage like a shockwave, chasing after Takumi through the alleyway with enough force to rattle walls and shudder the ground beneath his feet.
Even without touching him, the blast carried its intent clearly.
It would find another way.
"These things are way more relentless than I thought…"
Takumi rounded the corner of the alley and kept close to the buildings, using their shapes to stay out of the creature's line of sight. Once the noise behind him fully faded and the oppressive presence vanished, he slowed to a quiet walk, careful with every step. Rushing now would only get him noticed by something else.
He drew in a breath, then let it out slowly, forcing himself to cool down. Even with how composed he usually was, the tension hadn't completely disappeared—faint traces of panic still lingered, stubborn and unwelcome.
"Hope that gave her enough time to get away," he muttered under his breath. His eyes swept the empty street. "Doesn't look like anything's around… but yeah, better stay sharp."
With no movement nearby, he leaned against the wall, crossing one arm while resting his chin on the other. His expression stayed calm, thoughtful.
"I really need to learn more about these things," he said quietly, like talking to himself—or someone who wasn't there. "They can't just stay a mystery forever." He paused. "There's gotta be something that explains them. Why most people can't see them. Or hear them. Or even sense them at all."
He exhaled softly, eyes narrowing in thought.
On the other side of the city, far from where Takumi had gone into hiding, Yuna found a place of her own. She slipped into cover, keeping herself out of reach of anything prowling the streets, needing the safety more for her mind than her body.
She stayed still, breathing quietly, letting the silence settle around her. What she'd seen replayed in her head over and over, each detail refusing to fade. She needed a moment—just enough time to steady herself and make sense of it all without fear pressing down on her every second.
But no matter how hard she tried, her thoughts kept circling back to him—Takumi. He'd been there, even after she told him not to wander Aoshima's streets after midnight.
"What is his problem…?" she whispered to herself. "Could he see those things too? Like I can?"
Her thoughts stumbled, refusing to settle. "N-No… that doesn't make sense. Those creatures… I thought I was the only one who could see them."
She clenched her fists, replaying the scene in her head. "There's no way he just guessed something was in front of me. And even if he did… he wouldn't know where it was." Her breathing tightened. "He hit that light like he knew exactly where it was. And he shouted at it—like he could see it staring right back at him."
A quiet, unsettling thought crept in.
"Maybe… just maybe… he's different."
The truth pressed too hard, too fast. The image of the creature looming over her refused to leave her mind—how close she'd been to dying, how certain it had been of its meal. And Takumi had seen it. Really seen it. She was alive only because of that.
Which meant something else was true as well.
She wasn't alone.
There were others out there—people who could see those monsters too.
Her jaw set with resolve. "The moment I see him in class, I'm talking to him," she muttered. Then, softer, almost like a plea, "Just… don't die tonight, idiot. Show up in the morning in one piece."
Takumi stayed tucked away in the shadows, one hand slipping into his pocket to pull out his phone. The screen lit up the narrow space around him for a brief moment as he unlocked it and opened his contacts.
Nothing.
He frowned lightly. "Right… figures," he muttered. He didn't have Yuna's number.
After a short pause, his thumb moved again, opening the city network instead. A few taps later, the Aoshima City academic database loaded—public access, just like always. Student profiles, enrollment records, basic contact information. Everything neatly cataloged.
Aoshima's schools had pushed for transparency years ago. Officially, it was for safety—a city initiative meant to reassure parents, streamline emergency communication, and allow institutions worldwide to verify student credentials instantly. In a place as advanced and internationally connected as Aoshima, closed systems were considered outdated. Open data meant faster responses, global collaboration, and a reputation for progress.
Unofficially, it also meant convenience.
Takumi scrolled calmly through the listings, eyes sharp despite the exhaustion tugging at him. "Guess that saves me the trouble," he said under his breath. If the city wanted the world to know who studied here, he wasn't about to complain—not tonight.
To be continued...