"Fight for your life."
The words came from the voice of a teenager bland, hollow, utterly lifeless.
1826 - Edo Period
Rain poured over a blood-soaked battlefield. Amid the carnage, a child knelt on all fours, trembling. Blood streamed from his wounds as he panted heavily, staring into a shallow puddle beneath him. His reflection wavered with every raindrop then shattered as his own blood fell into the water.
Footsteps approached.
A tall figure draped in a brown cloak stopped before the boy. Slowly, he lifted his head. There, standing above him, was her- a woman both beautiful and enigmatic, smiling as though genuinely intrigued.
She knelt down, lowering herself to his level. Her pink lips parted, preparing to speak.
"Say… you don't want to die yet… right?" the mysterious woman asked.
2026 - Modern World
A hand rose, palm open.
As the spotlight locked onto the girl raising it, she stood at the center of the stage, continuing her operatic performance before gracefully moving toward the side.
She spun gently, gliding across the stage in a graceful arc. Her movements carried her from one end to the other, each step precise and deliberate. The audience remained silent, utterly absorbed as the performance unfolded.
Above them, overlooking the hall, was a gallery. Within its shadows sat a lone figure, watching in quiet mystery. He wore a pristine white suit and held a long brown cane in one hand.
The opera house remained hushed until the final note faded.
Then, applause erupted.
The clapping was measured and proper, resonating through the hall as though this were a performance fit for royalty.
Backstage, the performer, Laura Martin, slid a pair of long white gloves over her arms, adjusting them carefully.
Knock. Knock.
The sound of a cane tapping caught her attention.
A pair of polished shoes stepped into view, parting the curtain as their owner entered. Laura lifted her gaze, meeting his eyes.
"Oh- House Director Shirogane Makoto… what are you doing here?" she asked.
Makoto Shirogane was the same man who had been watching from the gallery earlier.
"Nothing in particular. I was just checking up on our grand performer," Makoto said, his eyes closed, a faint smile resting on his face.
At his reply, Laura let out a small chuckle.
"I'm doing fineno need to worry. Well then, I'll be back on stage shortly, so-"
She began to walk past him.
As soon as she did, his voice cut in.
"Say… ever since you arrived here, there's been a surge of reports about drained human bodies found in dark places."
Makoto turned his gaze toward her, eyes sharp at her side while maintaining the same smile, only now, it carried a quiet taunt.
"Perhaps you know something about that?"
Laura's eyes widened slightly.
But only for a moment.
She closed them again, letting out an awkward smile as she brushed the thought aside.
"Ehh, unfortunately, I don't. I have heard about the news, though. So you should be careful, Director." She chuckled lightly.
"Watch your back, or you might turn into one too. Haha!"
"I see." Makoto's eyes closed once more, his smile softening.
"My apologies for the suddenness," he said, sounding genuinely apologetic.
"I'll be on, then!" Laura replied, slipping past the curtain and returning to the stage.
As the show continued, Laura stood at the center of the stage, rising onto her tiptoes. Slowly, she glided forward on the balls of her feet toward the side. Then, she leapt, spinning gracefully through the air before landing once more at the center.
She moved left, extending her arms toward the audience as she turned, her motions slow, fluid, and deliberate.
High above, Makoto had returned to the gallery, his attendant standing beside him as they watched from above.
As Laura reached the center again, she bent her body forward, then straightened. Her right arm rose upward, momentarily blocking the light and casting her shadow beneath her. Slowly, her arm descended, coming to rest over the left side of her chest.
Finally, she bowed to the audience, eyes closed.
--From the gallery--
"Wow… she really pulled that off, huh?" Makoto's attendant, Mira Hansen, murmured as she clapped quietly.
Makoto, on the other hand, remained silent, focused.
After the bow, Laura resumed her performance, her movements accelerating, transitioning into sharper, more acrobatic motions.
"Hm… I wonder why no one's clapping after that?" Mira blurted out, her tone teasing but genuine.
"Is everyone asleep or something?"
"Yeah," Makoto replied suddenly.
"You got that right."
"Eh?" Mira froze, startled as she turned toward him.
Makoto tilted his head back against the chair, lifting his gaze until it met hers.
"You should call an emergency hotline," he said calmly.
"Tell them a case of mass hysteria may have… entered the premises."
"I'll stay here and enjoy the view," he added, giving her a small thumbs-up.
"You go on ahead."
Mira stared at him, words failing her.
"Ah-"
Overwhelmed by the flood of information, she turned and hurried down the stairs to carry out her director's request.
As Mira descended the stairs, Laura continued her performance.
At this point, she rose once more and extended her right arm, palm open, as if waiting for a butterfly to land. Makoto remained in the gallery, watching in silence, observing.
While Mira reached the telephone and began dialing, Laura drew her hand back to her chest. Both hands intertwined over her heart.
Then, slowly, she extended her right arm again, her left hand gripping her wrist as though steadying herself.
As Mira spoke into the phone, Laura prepared to release a gentle breath.
At the same time, Makoto let out a quiet sigh.
Laura exhaled, a slow and faint smile touching her lips.
Her cold breath slipped past her fingertips, and then-- !
sudden surge of unknown wind burst into the opera house through every door and window, shattering glass on impact. The force was overwhelmingly violent, spiraling, like a tornado unleashed within enclosed walls.
The telephone slipped from Mira's grasp as the impact struck her. She was thrown to the ground, unconscious, too slow to react, never given the chance.
Then, time seemed to freeze.
Shards of glass hung suspended in the air, scattered everywhere, glinting faintly beneath the fractured lights.
Mira lay on the ground, unconscious.
At the center of the stage, Laura remained in her bowed posture.
Above them all, Makoto sat in the gallery, still observing, his expression unchanged.
Everything felt timeless.
And broken.
Then-
Laura slowly lifted her lips into a grim smile.
--Flashback--
The same boy from earlier lay on the ground as the mysterious woman extended her hand toward him. A faint smile curved her lips.
"Despite this peaceful era, your family failed to survive," she said calmly.
"The Shirogane House of samurai has now… fallen. And yet—to think you were given a chance."
Her gaze softened, almost amused.
"It is a once-in-eternity opportunity."
The boy stared at her hand, frozen in place- unsure. He swallowed hard, teeth clenched, then slowly reached out and accepted it.
"Be an agent…"
She tightened her grip.
"…of order."
Their hands closed, sealing the contract.
Then- Everything went black.
Back in the present, Laura subtly adjusted her posture, drawing her right arm back as though preparing to release something once more.
Time was still slowed.
But only for a few moments longer.
Laura slowly thrust her arm toward the audience. Silence pressed down on the world, as if reality itself had tightened.
Then--
In a single blink, time resumed.
Glass shards surged forward. The chaotic wind collapsed inward, rushing toward the unconscious crowd.
However--
"I paid a greater price."
Makoto's voice echoed within the darkness of his own mind.
Everything erupted, but not as it should have. The wind was torn apart, forcibly dispersed. The glass shards were carried away, halted mid-fall, as if the immense force had been overwhelmed- countered by something far greater.
Receiving the sudden and mysterious opposing force, one of the suspended glass shards broke free from its halted path. It sliced through the air and struck Laura across the cheek, just enough to draw blood.
She flinched. Her eyes shut instinctively as her head turned slightly to the side, surprise flashing through her otherwise composed form. A thin line of crimson traced down her skin, stark against the pale stage light.
As the violent currents finally dissipated, the mist began to settle.
Pink petals emerged from the thinning air, dozens of them- drifting gently, almost reverently, as though untouched by the chaos that had just occurred. They floated downward in slow spirals, filling the space where glass and wind had once ruled.
One petal landed softly on a shoulder clad in white. A man stood there.
"You almost got everyone there, Wind Eater Sylph."
The voice was calm. Measured. It came from a distance directly before Laura.
She opened her eyes.
Her gaze snapped forward, sharp and feral. Her brow lifted slightly, irritation etched clearly across her face as she turned to face the speaker.
"Shirogane… Makoto…"
she whispered.
He stood before her, framed by falling petals, his pristine white coat fluttering gently in the residual breeze as though the wind itself acknowledged him. In his hand was a long sword, gripped with disciplined precision, its angle unmistakable: a stance meant not to threaten, but to punish.
Within his mind, his voice declared-
"Armament Art: Ruiner Blade."
His cane slowly transformed into a uniquely forged katana, pink energy coursing from the base upward, reshaping steel and form until the blade stood complete.
Standing opposite one another, the atmosphere grew heavy dense, yet utterly silent. Their gazes locked, intense and unwavering, neither willing to look away.
For a moment, the world itself seemed to hold its breath.
The silence broke as Laura let out a slow sigh.
"I should've known you'd get in my way. You weren't normal. Not from the start. I should've finished you off earlier."
she said. Her tone was sharp, irritated, then gradually edged into mockery. Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"You shouldn't be meddling with beings beyond your age, Mr. Shirogane."
Makoto did not react. His expression remained unreadable.
"Sounds like the so-called royal Laura doesn't quite understand what she's saying," he replied calmly, his voice devoid of emotion.
"If you were waiting for a compliment- here's one."
His eyes settled on her.
"A sylph that devours souls… how novel...
And frightening."
Laura's lips curved faintly.
"I'm nearing the title of a deity, human. We should just get this over with. I still have every last one of them to devour."
Her gaze flicked to his blade.
"And you…"
she said, her smile sharpening and eyes gleamed with interest.
"A Hunter. You manipulate Natural Energy itself. How interesting…"
"You Deviants really are selfish… And gluttonous."
He exhaled.
"Maybe we really should--"
His words were cut short.
Laura's nails elongated, twisting into vicious claws. Her teeth sharpened, her grin turning feral.
Then-- With a single breath, she launched forward, moving faster than sound, straight toward Makoto.
But-- everything between them slowed once again. Laura's charge stretched unnaturally, her form creeping closer inch by inch.
"Natural Energy…"
Makoto's thoughts echoed calmly.
"Flow through my blade. Gather every last fragment."
A dense aura of pink surged forth, engulfing his sword from hilt to tip. He raised it diagonally near his face, the edge aligned as if mid-slice.
In one fluid motion, he shifted his grip, placing the blade across the line of his neck, preparing to release the strike. His hands tightened.
Then once again- everything proceeded.
Laura closed the remaining distance instantly.
Makoto slashed.
A violent arc of wind tore forward.
At the same moment, Laura swung her claws, releasing a brutal counterstrike.
The two forces collided.
The impact slowed them both for a fraction of a second, just long enough for their paths to cross. They passed one another. Back to back. Silence lingered.
A deep, jagged slash tore across Makoto's wrist, shredding his sleeve apart as blood seeped through the fabric.
But Laura-- A single petal drifted downward, passing slowly before her face.
She stared at it.
For a moment, it felt as though the world had held its moment once more, her gaze fixed, unblinking.
Then- The petal was sliced cleanly in half, split diagonally in a single, precise cut.
Everything turned black.
Bright pink slashes carved through the darkness, appearing one after another, sharp and fleeting. They overlapped, layered atop one another in rapid succession, clustering as though sketching a symbol before fading away.
Then-- Reality returned.
Behind Laura, a sudden explosion of pink aura erupted, scattering countless petals into the air. Her body was thrown forward as she collapsed to the ground, eyes rolled white, mouth frozen open, lifeless.
"Petal Dance: Fourth Fold, Silent Bloom"
Makoto's voice echoed quietly within his mind as he swung his blade to the side, the lingering Natural Energy dissipating cleanly from its edge. His eyes closed and expression composed.
Kiss X Reaper, Chapter 1: Alluring Death Alluring Grand
Special Edition of the first Chapter has come to end. Thank you for reading!
A short reminder: the recurring instances where time seems to slow do not indicate actual time manipulation. Rather, they function as a narrative device to intensify tension. We have yet to reach that stage of the story. Thank you once again.