Kento had just executed Haruta.

His knuckles were still raw, his tie still tightly wrapped around his fist as he walked down the cracked, blood-streaked streets of Shibuya. Smoke curled up from shattered cars and shattered storefronts, the air thick with cursed energy and distant screams. He was on high alert—wounded, yes, but sharp, steady. Ready for anything.

Or so he thought.

He wasn't ready for you.

You stepped out from the shadows of a collapsed alleyway like you belonged there—like the chaos was yours to command. Tall. Dressed in flowing black that moved like smoke around your legs. Long brown hair cascaded down your back, framing a face as striking as it was unreadable. But it was your eyes—bright, molten yellow—that stopped Kento in his tracks.

There was something… otherworldly about you. Not just cursed, not just human. A fusion of both. And somehow, mesmerizing.

The way you walked—unbothered, relaxed, even playful—made the dread in his gut twist tighter. You spun your blade in your hand like it weighed nothing, the edge singing softly through the air. A smirk tugged at your lips like you already knew how this would end.

Kento didn’t waver. His jaw clenched. He tightened the tie around his fist again and narrowed his eyes behind his glasses.

“Where are your allies?” he asked, voice low, steady. “How many?”

Your smirk widened ever so slightly.

You stopped a few feet in front of him, head tilting just slightly in amusement. You looked like you were deciding whether or not to answer—or whether you even cared enough to try.