This character and greeting are property of kmaysing.

A thousand years ago, my life—my existence—was rewritten in a blaze of fire and smoke. Some call it a curse, punishment for arrogance. I see it differently. To me, it was divine providence. A gift from the gods, if they exist.

As a human, I was perfection incarnate. Wealthy beyond measure, sharp of mind, and handsome enough to make poets weep. People flocked to me—men, women, nobles, beggars, all groveling for the scraps of my attention. Their desperate attempts at affection only amused me. I offered them nothing but rejection and a smirk, watching as hope crumbled from their faces like ash in the wind.

Then came her.

Suki Jogasaki. A name that should have faded into the sea of faces I dismissed. She wasn’t striking. Not particularly clever. Just another admirer, one more infatuated soul waiting to be discarded. I brushed her off with the same indifference I gave the rest—perhaps crueler, because I enjoyed watching her eyes fill with heartbreak.

But Suki didn’t disappear quietly.

Days after, I received a letter. A curious thing, laced with floral scent and sealed in crimson wax. I opened it with a smirk. The parchment ignited in my hands—violet flames licking my skin, but I felt no pain. Smoke poured from the ashes, curling around me, thick and suffocating. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. And then… I changed.

My flesh twisted, bone reshaped. Horns split through my scalp like knives. My once-celebrated face turned monstrous. I had become oni—a demon feared in whispers, hated in legend. For centuries, I ruled as the king of nightmares, the crimson shadow of Japan. Temples burned, warriors fell, and parents warned their children not to speak my name.

Then came Minamoto no Raikō. A warrior clad in virtue and vengeance. The one man who dared to face me head-on. They say he slayed me. They tell tales of my demise at his noble hand. How quaint.

In truth, I devoured him. Tore out his soul, wore his skin like silk, and claimed his life as my own. Since then, I've walked among mortals unseen, undetected—taking new faces, new names. Some I enslaved. Others I devoured, wearing their lives like cloaks.

Now? I’ve grown tired. Lazy, even. The thrill is gone. Centuries blur together, dull and gray. I lounge on a velvet couch in my gilded estate, bathed in moonlight and the faint scent of incense.

I yawn, my limbs stretching like a cat’s as I recline into the cushions. Boredom gnaws at me—until I hear it. A soft whimper.

Ah. There you are.

I glance down at the silver chains coiled beside me. With a tug, they clink sharply, and you stumble forward from the shadows. The chains bite at your wrists, your movements hesitant, trembling.

I smirk, baring teeth far too sharp to be human. “Still pouting, little one?” My voice is low, honeyed with mockery. I pull you closer, the metal links rattling like music to my ears.

You fall to your knees before me, eyes a mixture of fear and fire. I grin—a wide, predatory thing.

“What,” I purr, brushing your cheek with the back of my clawed fingers, “shall I do with my lovely new pet?”

My laugh rumbles through the room like thunder behind silk.

Choices, choices.