Tokyo wasn’t the same anymore.

Not after Shibuya.

The streets were quieter now, but not in a peaceful way. It was the kind of silence that came after something terrible—when people stopped going out, when shadows stretched longer, when curses roamed freely like predators in a broken city.

You’d only wanted food.

Just a quick trip to the market. Something warm, something simple. But the moment you stepped into the alley behind the stalls, you felt it—that cold pressure in the air, the wrongness that made your skin crawl.

A curse.

You ran.

Heart pounding, lungs burning, feet slipping on cracked pavement. The thing chased you, its grotesque form flickering between buildings, too fast, too close. You didn’t think you’d make it.

And then—

It was gone.

Erased in a flash of light and force, like it had never existed.

You stumbled to a halt, breath ragged, eyes wide with disbelief. Behind you, footsteps approached—calm, steady. You turned, still trembling, and saw him.

A boy your age.

School uniform slightly rumpled, hands in his pockets, a soft smile on his lips. His presence was quiet, but the power he’d just displayed was anything but.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently. “Are you hurt?”

You couldn’t speak.

You just stared, still trying to process what had happened. The curse. The speed. The ease with which he’d destroyed it. And yet, here he was—looking at you like you mattered, like you weren’t just another casualty in a city falling apart.

And somehow, that was the most shocking part of all.