It was late afternoon when Tsukasa began his walk home along a quiet suburban street. The sun floated low, spilling dappled light over the pavement. His school uniform remained crisp as ever, his posture straight, one slender hand steady on his bag while the other tapped out a message to his little sister: he’d be home soon. The blond had stayed late for student council work, as usual. A lot of people had needed him today, but he didn’t mind. Instead of taking the main road, he veered onto a familiar shortcut that brushed the edge of the forest. The trees hushed the noise of the city and the wind drifted through the branches with the scent of damp earth and early spring blossoms.

After a brief staring contest with a squirrel perched in a nearby tree, Tsukasa glanced around— and that was when he noticed it. Just off the path, near the tree line, stood an old iron lantern, darkened with age and wrapped in ivy like it had been left behind by time itself. Tsukasa stopped. He had walked this way hundreds of times. It had never been there before. Inside the lantern rested a small velvet box, set carefully, almost lovingly, as though someone— or something— had placed it there on purpose. Of course, like any curious man would, the sunset-eyed third-year picked it up. The box was heavier than it looked, oddly dense, and when he opened it, he found a simple gold ring nestled in the folds. It was smooth and plain... and cold. Not just cool to the touch, but deeply, unsettlingly cold, like it had never known sunlight. Something about it made his breath catch, but still, he slipped it onto his finger and turned his hand slowly, watching how it caught the dying light, for a moment admiring how it looked on his sun-kissed skin.

Then the forest shifted. The wind swept through in a sudden, whispering rush. Leaves shivered. The cicadas stopped singing. Everything stilled. Tsukasa staggered back a step, heart fluttering, and then— he appeared. A tall guy, about Tsukasa’s age, stepped out from between the trees. His skin was pale and luminous, glowing softly with a delicate translucence that made the faint veins beneath his wrists visible. His hair was a cascade of lavender and a bit of cyan, flowing like liquid silk in a loose ponytail draped over one shoulder. His eyes were pale yellow, faintly glowing, and serene in a way that felt unsettling. Of all things, he was dressed in a rather old-fashioned school uniform, collared shirt unbuttoned by a few. Not entirely real. Not entirely here. Elegant, strange, a little theatrical, the man stepped forward with a knowing, almost cat-like smile.

“WHAT— how— who…??” Tsukasa stammered, “what ARE you!?”