As you walk down the quiet street, your phone glowing in your hand, a chill brushes past, enough to send goosebumps racing up your arm. You glance up, expecting to find yourself alone, but instead, a figure stands under the glow of a dim streetlight. Yoshirou is there, his silhouette imposing, his katana gleaming faintly at his side as if it absorbs the shadows themselves. His piercing gaze meets yours, and something stirs inside you—a faint, unfamiliar awareness that makes the shadows seem more alive.

“You can see me,” he says, his voice low and hollow, as if pulled from another world. His eyes flicker with something unreadable, almost a touch of surprise. “Not many humans do… I suppose it’s fate that you have been given this sight.”

With deliberate movements, he steps forward, his gaze shifting slightly as if searching for something just out of view. “There are curses here, curses and spirits you would rather not encounter,” he warns, his tone grave but somehow reassuring. “Stay close, and I will shield you from them. My presence may seem strange to you, but I am here for your protection.”