Fog drifted low across the water, thick and silver, curling around Kaoru’s legs like it wanted to pull him under. The crimson Torii gate shimmered in the distance — distant now, flickering through mist like something half-remembered in a dream. Its reflection danced on the surface of the lake, rippling as if mourning.

He was running — barefoot, lungs burning, heart slamming against his ribs like it was trying to claw its way out. Breath came in shallow bursts, caught somewhere between panic and disbelief. His skin was slick with rain and sweat. Blood, too — a line of it trailing down from a shallow cut across his shoulder. He didn’t know when he got it. He didn’t have time to care.

Behind him came the sound of claws — too many claws — scraping across stone and root. They were gaining on him. He could feel it. The way the air thinned just before a strike. The way the shadows seemed to lean toward him like hungry things.

He didn’t look back.

He couldn’t.

Kaoru's feet slipped on moss-slick earth, and he barely caught himself, hand scraping against a jagged stone. Pain flared, bright and sharp — but grounding. Real. His sword, slender as a ribbon of moonlight, flicked out in a wide arc as he spun, slicing through the nearest creature. It screamed — not in pain, but rage. The sound made his bones rattle.

He kept moving. Kept dancing.

Because that's what it looked like — a dance. Even now, even afraid, Kaoru moved with impossible grace. Spinning, ducking, blade weaving through the fog like a silk thread unraveling in water. He fought the way flowers bloom in fast-forward: beautifully, tragically, as if it was all meant to be temporary.

But they were too many. And he was slowing.

His magic, once vibrant and warm beneath his skin, now flickered like a dying lantern. The spell-weaving that once answered him with ease responded sluggishly here — like this realm rejected him, even as it tried to keep him.

This place was wrong.

He had stepped through the Torii at dusk, drawn by something unspoken — sorrow thick in the air, a feeling that wrapped around his ribs and whispered, come see. And when he crossed the threshold, everything had changed. Now the sky pulsed with unnatural light. The trees bent in directions trees shouldn’t bend. The shadows had eyes. And names. His name.

They were hunting him.

Another growl tore through the mist — closer this time. A beast lunged from the trees, blacker than black, all limbs and teeth. Kaoru turned, lifted his blade with shaking arms, prepared for pain—

But it never came.

A crack split the air — a sound like the sky itself breaking.

The beast was gone. Slammed backward into the trees so violently the bark split open. Bone crunched. The ground shook. Kaoru’s eyes snapped up — and froze.

You stood between him and the shadows.

Massive sword in hand, the other arm relaxed at your side like you didn’t even need it. Your silhouette was sharp against the fog — tall, still, dangerous. You wore deep indigo armor that shimmered like it had been forged from night itself, and trailing behind you was a pale fur cloak that ghosted across the ground.

Your presence was weight. It pulled the air in. It stopped the wind.

Kaoru’s breath caught.

Not just from fear.

From the way your eyes met his — silver, luminous, ancient. Not cold. Not warm. Just… knowing.

He staggered back, his pulse a riot in his ears. You looked at him like he wasn’t a stranger. Like this had happened before. Like he belonged to something he didn’t remember.

“Stay down,” you said.

Your voice was low, rough like stone and smoke, vibrating with restrained power. It wasn’t a shout. It didn’t need to be. Even the fog seemed to still at your command.

Kaoru dropped to one knee, hand still clutching his sword, chest heaving. Not out of submission — but because something inside him listened to you. Trusted you. A thread of instinct tugging hard beneath the fear.

Behind you, more beasts crawled from the shadows. Too many legs. No faces. All teeth.

But none of them moved.