[WHISPERS OF THE NIGHT]

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 40 - Mizuko Shirogetsu

Hollow Night

“Was that necessary?”

Ignoring Cunningham’s protest, I stabbed my naginata into the ground, eyes fixed on Eiji and the game’s newest addition disappearing down the road toward the Scramble Crossing. Their potential routes were already mapped out in my mind, analyzed and locked down.

I turned to Cunningham, my voice cold and measured.

“If you have a problem with the way I discipline our…contemporaries, you are most welcome to leave.” I cautioned, my gaze unyielding. “In fact, I don’t remember asking for your assistance to begin with. Why are you here with my sister and I?”

His expression showed hurt, a flicker of vulnerability that I couldn't ignore. I needed to know now more than ever if he was someone I – we – could trust. Trust was becoming a rare commodity.

“Because I care about your wellbeing,” he replied, his voice strained as he struggled to contain his frustration. “What good will breaking our bonds do? We’ve already lost one person – “

“And you’ll join him if you continue to think so naively,” I interrupted, my tone sharp. “If you’re as ‘caring’ as you say, then follow my lead and keep your suggestions to yourself.”

He opened his mouth to reply but, seeing the hardness in my glare, shook his head slowly and fell silent. Junko watched us quietly, tension palpable in the air. Suddenly, the billboards and monitors around us buzzed to life.

The sovereign of this dark world had returned.

“Greetings, my brave soldiers,” they intoned, their voice devoid of warmth. “Welcome back to the Hollow Night. Before we begin, allow me to remark on the developments thus far.”

We stood in silence, the weight of their words pressing down on us.

As if we weren’t already painfully aware of the ‘developments.’

As if those ‘developments’ hadn’t already twisted our perceptions, forcing us to question everything and everyone around us. A dark rage simmered within me.

“I understand that one of you did not survive to see the end of the last night. My condolences especially to his previous partner, Resolution. May you live on to embody your fallen comrade’s strength and integrity in their final moments.”

Hollow, meaningless platitudes. They spoke of someone they knew nothing about – someone’s friend, someone’s son, condemned to death in this twisted game. My fists clenched harder than I could control.

Juno must pay.

But first, survival. We needed a strategy. No creature, no organization, no entity is without a flaw. Not even Juno. I had to believe that, regardless of whether or not I truly found it plausible.

“Indeed, I have enlisted a new warrior to take their place in this battle for survival. To you, my newest recruit, may you awaken the strength you require to thrive in this valley of death. To the others, this decision was made to keep the game more interesting; I do not plan on repeating such an action in future cases, so tread carefully.”

‘More interesting’? For Juno? Was this game solely for their amusement? I had considered the possibility of others watching, but what did that mean? That somewhere, people were observing us, trapped in this endless cycle, fighting for our lives?

I pushed those thoughts aside as the moment I’d been waiting for arrived.

“With that now taken care of,” Juno continued, their voice cutting through the tension. “Allow me to introduce tonight’s mission.”

Here it was.

I stood with bated breath, glancing at the others before the game master began their exposition. My heart skipped a beat when I caught Rusuban glancing back at me, his eyes resolute but his appearance betraying some kind of weakness or illness.

This was strange; any real-world maladies shouldn’t carry over to our forms in this realm.

As if reading my thoughts, he gave a simple yet firm nod and turned his direction back to the billboard. I nodded back. For a moment, I thought I saw Kozuki’s scarlet eyes dart in my direction, but when I blinked, her attention was also on Juno.

I fought against the frown forming on my lips, pushing my paranoia aside in favor of rationality. Rationally, I had no doubt that Kinoko would keep the promise we made on the rooftop that day.

He would if he valued his wellbeing, at any rate.

I settled my gaze back onto Juno as their distorted, static-filled tone began to reverberate through the shadowed streets.

“Tonight, I am afraid that one person among you is being hunted.”

I took a sharp, involuntary inhale. Hunted? Just where was this going?

“A deadly group of Noise has infiltrated this realm and is banding together to assassinate one of you in particular, though they are prepared to eliminate any and all who get in their way,” Juno continued.

“These Noise are nothing like what you’ve encountered thus far, my brave warriors. They are cunning, ruthless, and will stop at nothing to achieve their goal of ending one of your lives tonight.”

I didn’t like this one bit.

We’d been struggling more and more as the nights progressed, getting by only through tactics and teamwork. I could only imagine things getting more difficult as time went on.

Tonight would’ve been the opportunity to level up our abilities, but if Arthur or, even worse, Junko ended up being the ‘target’ here, what hope did we have of surviving?

“Before I inform you who has been randomly selected as the target, please familiarize yourselves with the current leaderboard standings.”

Juno’s shrouded likeness dissipated, replaced by the current rankings on the leaderboard:

1. Yuki no Yūrei & Reaper – 66 Points

2. Resolution & Rush – 55 Points

3. The Twisted & Scarecrow – 41 Points

4. Cordyceps & Red – 39 Points

5. Kumo & Fenrir – 26 Points

There was no joy in my heart at seeing I had made first place alongside my partner.

While Juno hadn’t explicitly stated their criteria for awarding points, anyone could tell that my high placement was due to Reaper, who had likely been working with Daisuke to kill as many Noise as possible and level up their abilities since the game began, further evidenced by the latter’s rise from last place to third in a single night.

I was kicking myself for not following suit. I had relied too much on others. A mistake that would not be repeated.

Still, I had to wonder – what was the point of showing us the leaderboard now, of all times? So far, it had had no impact on anything and only served as secondary motivation at best…

I closed my eyes and allowed myself to fall deep, deep in thought.

We’re in a game – a game whose purpose is to be ‘entertaining’ or ‘interesting’ rather than ‘fair.’

We’ve just been told that one person among us is to be hunted, and then shown this leaderboard that ranks each pairing based on points.

We asked about these very same ranks before, hadn’t we? What did Juno say about the rankings on that first night?

“Based on your actions during each night…” I caught onto the thread and began to follow it, recalling each and every detail of Juno’s words on the first night.

“There are various ways to earn ‘points,’ such as slaying more powerful Noise, completing the assigned mission, and so on…”

The picture became fuzzy from that point onward, though I was certain they had mentioned something about including their own judgment in how they awarded points. I had no way of knowing exactly what this meant, but that didn’t matter.

Think.

If you were Juno, how could you incorporate the leaderboard to make things more—

My heart dropped violently like a stone sinking miles into dark, impregnable waters. In that moment, there was nothing I wanted more than to escape. To take her hand and leave this all behind.

But we’d learned the hard way that escape wasn’t an option. It never had been, and never would be.

I turned to Junko.

“We need to leave,” I commanded.

She wore an understandably confused expression as I grabbed her forearm.

Despite what she’d have you believe, my baby sister was naïve to a fault. She didn’t see the world the same way I did, never believing it was out to get her like I feared.

Whenever I’d caution her about her fashion choices or staying out too late – pointless things I now missed dearly – she’d dismiss it as the ramblings of an overprotective older sibling.

But now, more than ever, I needed her to trust her ‘doting older sister’ and do as I said.

Her life – both our lives – depended on it.

“H-Huh? Stop, you’re hurting me –“

She tried to pull her arm away, but I wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“We’re in trouble,” I explained without slowing down. “Just trust me. We need to go!”

By this point, we’d drawn confused looks from Arthur and the others, who either hadn’t figured it out yet or weren’t concerned. Arthur was trudging behind us, deliberating whether or not to interfere, when Juno’s voice began to drone, and I realized it was too late.

“Now that you have hopefully familiarized yourselves with the condition of this realm,” they began, “I will be implementing this leaderboard in its fullest capacity, to reward the strongest among you, and motivate the others to… improve their situation.”

My teeth began to grind. How could I not have seen this coming earlier? I didn’t even have the strength left to grip Junko’s forearm, and she took advantage.

Yanking herself away, her confused gaze alternated rapidly between me, the screen, and Arthur, whose expression slowly began to mirror my own.

It seemed he was also beginning to understand our dire situation.

We stood deathly still and waited for Juno to deliver the news.

“For this mission of cat and mouse, I will be introducing special rules based on the placement of pairs on the leaderboard. For the current number one pairing, I am pleased to inform you that both of you will be exempted from being chosen as the ‘target.’ Rejoice in the freedom you have earned through your strength.”

Even though I was staring at the ground, I could detect the slightest change in Junko’s body language.

The twitch of her hands, the drooping of her shoulders, the avoidance of eye contact – all idiosyncrasies I’d come to know well.

She had now put the pieces together.

If those at the top were being rewarded, then those at the bottom...

As if finishing my thought, Juno’s voice rang out, “Inversely, for the pairing at the bottom…”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Each word Juno spoke after that was another nail in our coffin, revealing the true horror of our situation.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 41 - Junko Shirogetsu

Hollow Night

By the time I noticed my difficulty in breathing, it felt like the world had flipped on its axis.

“Careful!” someone warned. A firm but gentle pressure settled on my upper back. “J-Just breathe, okay?”

I tried to heed the advice, but only panicked, involuntary gasps escaped me, as if a valve inside was blocked. I closed my eyes and forced myself to inhale deeply, gradually feeling life return to my bones.

“Thanks, Cunningham…” I whispered as he set me upright. He nodded but didn’t reply, his eyes glued to the screen. I followed suit, both of us knowing what was coming next.

“Inversely, for the pairing at the bottom, I am saddened to say that your chances of being selected as the target are doubled compared to your peers. May luck be on your side; I fear you will need it.”

There it was – the final nail in the coffin. I couldn’t trust in the slim chance that someone else would be picked. I knew that, as surely as the sun would rise tomorrow for the rest of the world, either Arthur or I would be marked for death.

This is what Mizuko was trying to warn me about. She knew that, one way or another, our last-place standing would come back to bite us – and in this case, that bite was a death sentence.

I glanced at Mizuko. While she looked back at me, her eyes held no recognition or awareness. A vacant lifelessness clouded her face as though she were somewhere else entirely.

I turned back to the screen, steadying my breaths as I awaited the confirmation.

“Without further delay, I will now reveal the identity of the hunted.”

Juno’s image vanished, replaced by a display with the fields ‘Name’ and a square border underneath, likely for a picture. Within seconds, the previously blank space began to cycle rapidly through names and images.

Arthur’s name and picture flashed by, followed by Hoshino, Kozuki, and more. The speed at which the options cycled gradually slowed. I couldn’t bear to watch anymore.

I closed my eyes, biting my bottom lip until the taste of iron filled my mouth.

The cycling sounds suddenly stopped, followed by a collective gasp.

Slowly, I opened my eyes to take in the horrifying sight.

I turned to Arthur, whose face was eerily pale. He was frozen in a mix of shock and anger, still processing what his eyes were telling him.

Rusuban, from a distance, frowned but didn’t look away from the screen. I couldn’t see Kozuki’s face from where I stood, though she remained rigid and completely still.

Finally – finally – I turned to look at my older sister.

A sudden impact struck the back of my head, and my vision faded to black.

The air was colder when I came to, the terrain beneath me smooth and unfamiliar. My head pounded. As my faculties returned, so did my recollection of the last events I had witnessed.

H-Had I been captured already?!

Wasting no time to survey my surroundings, I leapt to my feet, gripping my odachi’s handle. I quickly released it.

“S-Sis?” I muttered, confusion clouding my thoughts. “What just happened? One second I was watching the selection and then…”

She leaned against the railing of the high-rise building we were on, arms folded, eyeing me without a flicker of anxiety. I knew that look. Contrary to appearances, this was the most stressed I’d seen her in a long while.

The wind whispered against her jacket, swaying it softly. The sky was so clear up here, it almost alleviated the deep uneasiness I felt, as if the moon itself was watching me.

“I had to make sure you would comply this time,” she said nonchalantly. “Your life depended on it, after all.”

She’d knocked me out! Anger surged in my stomach but dissipated immediately upon hearing the latter half of her sentence. She was right. I saw whose name was on that screen.

I swallowed my anger and focused on the urgent matters at hand.

“Where is he?” I asked. Her eyes darted to a spot just behind me, at my four o’clock. I followed her gaze.

Arthur’s broad, suited back was turned to us, his fur sashaying with the breeze. He stood deathly still.

I glanced back at Mizuko, who nodded in Arthur’s direction as if to say, “Make it quick. We need to move.”

Sighing, I trudged over to Arthur’s side, laying a hand on the railing. I looked up at him to see that he was closing his eyes, his chest rising and falling steadily. I couldn’t help but envy how peaceful he looked, given the circumstances.

“I’m sorry,” I managed eventually. “You didn’t deserve it.”

His eyes remained closed. For a moment, I thought he either hadn’t heard me or was ignoring me.

“If it wasn’t me, it would have been someone else,” he responded coolly. “None of us deserve to die. We’re all victims here. Remember that.”

I sensed unspoken words, but there was no time to explore further. We were being hunted, after all.

I heard Mizuko’s footsteps before her voice. When I turned, she was standing with her arms folded, looking directly at us. Cunningham still hadn’t moved a muscle from his meditative stance.

“Let’s move. It isn’t safe to stay in one spot for too long.”

Arthur and I nodded in agreement. Now that we were being hunted, nowhere was safe. We had to keep moving. But ‘hunted’ was such a broad term; what exactly were we up against?

“Sis.”

I called her just as she raised a foot onto the railing, gazing down into the barren nighttime avenues. No doubt she had already charted a course for us. Running would only get us so far, though.

“Did Juno say anything about what type of enemies are after us? What kind of attacks can we expect?”

She stared at me wordlessly for a few moments, then returned her gaze to the streets below.

“Nothing,” she said quietly, as if she’d asked herself those questions a thousand times. “Once they confirmed Arthur was the target, they left us to our own devices. We fled right after that.”

I shook my head but said no more. We were up against an enemy who likely knew everything about us, and yet we knew next to nothing about them. An enemy who could strike hard, fast, and ruthlessly before we ever realized they were there.

The more I heard, the more I was convinced we were in over our heads.

“..Hey, why don’t we get the others?” I suggested tentatively.

Mizuko grew still as a statue. An inexplicable feeling that I’d annoyed her punched my heart, and like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar, I began to babble inanely.

“W-We’ve survived by sticking together so far, right?” I ventured shakily, my eyes drifting elsewhere. “I know we’re last on the leaderboard right now, but if we ask Rusuban and Kozuki, maybe even Hoshino for help, they w-wouldn’t…they wouldn’t leave us to die, right?”

I heard her before I saw her. The rapid tip-tap of footsteps against the floor seized my attention, and by the time my eyes caught up, Mizuko was sprinting toward me at full speed, an arm outstretched in panic.

Oh god, what was—

A heavy, unstoppable force slammed into my back just as a deafening BANG resounded through the air.

For the second time that night, I had been caught off-guard and practically manhandled. As I scrambled to my feet, I vowed there wouldn’t be a third time.

The saying had some truth after all – if you hear the bullet, it wasn’t meant for you.

Regaining my composure, I saw our environment had been flipped on its head.

Arthur, panting hard and glaring upwards, had just saved me from something. Following his gaze, I recognized where we were: the rooftop of Vegelovers. I’d only been here once, dragged by Emiko and some friends trying a fad diet.

As we left that day, my purse lighter and my stomach unimpressed, I thought, If I ever step foot near here again, it’ll be too soon. I couldn’t have known how right I was.

There was one more thing. So subtle and slight, you had to squint to see it: a red light coming from the top of Towa Records across the road. I’d always imagined the view from a building that tall, but as understanding dawned on me, I prayed my imaginings were incorrect.

“I thought I felt a subtle pulse in EXS nearby!” Arthur cried, springing to his feet and rushing toward me. A red dot, like a laser pointer, snaked across the ground in his wake. “It’s got some kind of long-range projectile weapon, and it’s perched way up there! We need to find cover!”

Before he finished his sentence, Mizuko took the lead. With no time to judge our upgraded physical abilities in this world, we leapt over the railing just as another powerful shot burst through the air, ricocheting off the floor with a clang.

As we descended in free-fall, we slid down the building walls before leaping off, landing on another rooftop nearby. From there, we scampered over ceilings, jumped over alleyways, slid under water towers, and even swung off traffic lights in a desperate attempt to maintain our momentum with shots ever-present on our tail.

If not for the life-threatening danger, I might have enjoyed the increasing fluidity of our movement through the landscape.

By the time we passed Cadul City, even our upgraded physiques struggled to keep up with the constant vigorous movements. As if on cue, Mizuko performed an alarmingly swift right turn into Usumizu Street.

I now had a good idea of where we were headed, and we were so, so close – if not for the nightmarish spectacle that awaited us just before the finish line.

Usumizu Street was in flames. The intensity of the fire formed a wall, blocking the path like a barricade. A fire of this magnitude on asphalt, which had little volatile compound content, was impossible. But alas, this was no ordinary fire.

In the infernal scene, the fire was an impermeable pitch black.

I saw him there at the hellfire’s base, sitting on a toppled-over feline-esque creature as it made pained, twitchy movements.

We locked eyes.

“End of the road,” Katoru declared gravely.

And just like that, the three of us knew we’d escaped the frying pan only to tumble into hell itself.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 42 - Daisuke Kurogane

Hollow Night

I let my mind wander as my body glided, ducked, and weaved through the silent nighttime streets, Juno’s voice ringing loudly through the alleyways and avenues. I didn’t know what they were talking about, and I didn’t care.

My mind was on other things.

Soon enough I’d reached the underpass underneath the train tracks right outside the station.

In the daytime, you’d used to find homeless people congregating around their ragged tents, talking amongst themselves animatedly. Nowadays though, they’d just be shivering around a trashcan fire, hands outstretched like they were performing some kind of ritual.

Sometimes when I had nothing to do with myself during the holidays or on weekends, I’d wander around forgotten places like these, filled with equally forgotten people, and wonder how things would turn out for them both a decade or so from now.

Would they still be here, huddling around a burning barrel with no prospects, no hope? Nothing to ever look forward to but more bumbling around until something irretractable happened?

Thinking about it never did me any good, so at some point, I stopped. Eventually, I avoided walking by altogether. I didn’t have that luxury in this place.

Running away here would only get you killed, after all.

Once I was sure the place was clear of any Noise, I hid behind one of the cracked stone pillars and took the journal I’d gotten from that Rabbit Noise last night.

I remember giving it to Reaper after they…helped me out last night, but I didn’t get the chance to meet them after-school today to find out what was in it. I’m sure I don’t need to explain why.

Instead, as soon as we appeared tonight they’d returned the journal and, to my surprise, the lighter we’d been given all the way back on the first night. If I remembered correctly, that Furusawa guy was in possession of it until he died. Why did they have it now?

I was about to ask them what they’d discovered, and maybe even share some of what I discovered yesterday, but before I knew it, sparks were flying and the idiots had started fighting already.

Reaper went off to defend the Vice-Prez, who I think was her Pact partner or something, leaving me alone there with the items.

I remember staring the journal for a long while before I felt someone’s eyes on me too. I didn’t need to look up to know it was him. Aware that he was watching my every move, I raised my head, feigned a chuckle, and locked eyes with my ‘partner’.

I felt like I was staring into a soulless mirror. Any other bozo might have been shaking in his boots right about now – but this wasn’t one of those situations. After all, this guy and I weren’t so different. Perhaps that’s why we’d been matched.

I smiled, narrowing my eyes and maintaining eye contact. We remained like that for a while until words that I hadn’t premeditated nor anticipated began to spill out of me, low enough that only he could hear.

“I’ll be waiting for that rematch,” I heard myself taunt, recalling my failure during that first night. “Until then, try not to get yourself killed, weak-ass.”

Seeing that the group’s ‘festivities’ in the centre of the space had reached a standstill, I decided to take my leave. Just as I was turning my back to exit, I found myself frozen from head to toe. There was a chill on my neck that was unlike the gust that occasionally blew down the streets.

I didn’t even hear him walk up to me when he said, “Consider your days numbered.”

When I finally turned around, he was gone.

This time, my laughing was real.

The Hollow Night was fucking amazing.

Dragging my focus back to the present, I took a sharp inhale before opening the journal to the first page.

The writing was scrawny and rushed, as if the author had penned the whole damn thing on a rollercoaster. The state of the actual pages didn’t help either, with entire sections containing blank pages in the middle of hastily written entries.

I supposed that was where the lighter came in.

Scanning the area once more, I calmed my pounding chest and began reading from the first page onwards.

With enough squinting, I could just about make out that the journal had been written by someone, or something, called Anxiety. Who names their kid Anxiety? Is that one of the lame-ass codenames they gave us that appeared on the leaderboard or whatever?

I thought back to visions I saw last night after defeating that ghost-like Noise, courtesy of that gemstone thingy it dropped. As if it could read my thoughts, I felt the object begin to rattle slightly in my pouch.

I opted to ignore it for now and get back to my investigation.

Could the author have been Kenjiro, Minami’s partner from the last game? Or maybe someone else from the list of players I managed to put together? Either way, I reasoned that reading the contents would help me suss out the identity of the writer.

So, with lighter in hand, I read from cover to cover of the dusty, aged journal, raising my head every minute and a half to check that the coast was still clear.

Whenever I came across a blank page, holding the blue flame of the lighter near the paper caused the words hidden within to manifest in deep, inky black blots. My surprise was palpable.

I wasn’t sure how Reaper figured this out, but I had the feeling they knew a lot more about all this than they were letting on.

Anyway, the first half or so of Anxiety’s journal was useless. Just entries about the stuff it got up to, most of which was feeling scared about the situation and running away from Noise.

The only useful parts were where it mentioned other people’s names, and thankfully, a lot of the names mentioned here had also featured in the list I’d curated. I was on the right track.

It appeared Anxiety wasn’t the only one with shitty parentage though, since they mentioned a bunch of other emotions like Anger and Courage and Love like this was some new Super Sentai series.

But whenever they mentioned an emotion, a specific name would always crop up not long before or after; Kin.

Takeda Kin.

Was he their master, or something? I knew he was a student at Kasumi, just like the rest of the players, who’d suddenly passed while in a comatose state. Shit, was that what was happening to that Furusawa guy now?

I kept my questions on standby as I continued through the journal.

If Anxiety’s information was to be trusted, then the rules of their game were alarmingly similar to ours. The basic structure was identical – with the Kasumi students also being spirited away each night, given missions, and they had powers too.

Theirs seemed pretty out there, though.

Take Kenjiro, for example. Apparently the dude could form his own damn psychic creations; like blasts or weapons. Imagine the damage you could do with that!

Kenjiro seemed kind of wimpy in the vision I saw of him though, so I guess maybe he used it mainly for defence.

That was only scratching the surface, too. One girl named Asuna could generate steam, which sounds shit at first, but apparently she got pretty creative with it and turned fights around that they otherwise would’ve lost.

Another girl named Inja, apparently Asuna’s Pact partner, had some kind of ‘glitch’ ability that allowed her to practically break the game. I’m sure Juno had accounted for that, so there probably weren’t any major vulnerabilities she could’ve leveraged against them, but still…just imagine the havoc they could’ve wreaked.

It looked like the progression of theirs worked differently, though. Not to mention some of the later missions got…real interesting. Otherwise, they were playing the exact same game.

The main difference came in how they handled it.

While all it took for us to break down was one weakling biting the dust, these guys managed to get through most of the week without losing anyone.

My guess? That classic Japanese collectivism.

From what I read and saw of Kasumi High, the students there were stupidly friendly, like they’d all been children’s TV presenters in a past life.

Even though most of the students there didn’t really hang around in the same groups, most were on good terms, which was more than I could say for our ragtag entourage.

Of course, you had your outliers like Minami or this Reihai girl (who apparently gave Anxiety the creeps), but for the most part, these guys were so close-knit in the game I almost threw up.

That is, until I got about halfway through the journal.

Turns out these guys weren’t that much better than us, after all. A chain is only as strong as its weakest – or in this case, most calculating – link.

By the time they’d gotten to the sixth night, it looked like these guys were pretty optimistic about everything. Until one person decided to speak up. You probably already know who I’m referring to.

According to one of the later entries, Minami believed that their troubles were far from over. In fact, he argued that this would be the time that they needed to be on guard the most, now that they were almost at the finish line.

Not all of Anxiety’s transcriptions were all that legible since Minami was known to speak in terms of mathematical lexicon (which might explain why nobody took him seriously), but it was clear that he was pretty worried about something.

The last they saw of him, he took Kenjiro and walked off, muttering something about how they’ll all suffer for not having solved for x, whatever that meant.

That was the last normal entry in the diary.

Everything else, even with the revealing power of the lighter, was just a bunch of panicked scribbles. I was only able to make out sentences such as:

Kemono’s dead!

Is it true that Ren was killing us?

We can’t find Asuna!

Inja’s missing!

Now that I thought about it, this sounded just like the crazy whispers of that Noise I fought yesterday. What was the link between the Noise and the previous players? Why were we getting their items from these random –

‘Random’? It wasn’t random though, was it? Rabbits are known for being particularly frightful and, well, anxious creatures. Could Anxiety have been…?

In any case, whatever had gone down on the last two nights was what caused the Kasumi students to all fall apart.

In the end, Minami seemed to be the only one who made it out, and even then, he seemed extremely nervous that something was coming after him in the real world. Not to mention he knew my name.

There was also Kenjiro, whose had been completely missing from the reports, even though Minami was apologizing to him in that video. Where was he? Did he make it out too? Did Minami silence him in the real world to stop him talking?

Kenjiro had also been concerned about something in that vision the gemstone had shown me. Had Minami really been behind the deaths of all those other players?

As I read the journal’s final pages and shut it, all these questions and more began to swirl around my mind. For every new piece of information I discovered, five more questions followed.

I was going in circles. I needed some time to gather up all of our leads and figure this all out.

In fact, I was so deep in thought that I hadn’t noticed the steady footsteps encroaching from behind. How could I have been so ignorant? In one swift movement, I rolled away from the pillar, brandished my kusari, and had my eyes ready.

Just a few meters down the road, I met eyes with the last person I wanted to see right now, and it looks like he’d got himself a new lacky.

“Oh! You startled me, Kurogane!” Rusuban smirked without a hint of jumpiness. ‘Startled’ my ass. He knew I was here. It didn’t take a genius to figure out how, given the ability of the person stood next to him.

Rusuban’s eyes wandered to the journal and lighter, which I’d dropped onto the floor mid-roll, and I practically saw him pulsing with greed.

“…What do you have over there, Kurogane? May we take a look?” Rusuban asked without taking his eyes off of the items.

I got right to point.

“Fuck off. You and your sidekick – before I make good on that promise from earlier.”

I hadn’t forgotten what he’d said.

I know I’d vowed to save him for last, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t rough him up a bit as a little taster of what’s to come. Think of it like an appetiser, if you will…

His sheepish grin vanished, and for a while he just stared at me emptily. I didn’t know how to interpret that, so I stared back.

As if he’d understood that I wasn’t interested in playing his mind games any further, he wordlessly nodded to the redhead, Kozuki or whatever, who now brandished a new yet somehow familiar-looking white sword in addition to her own rapier.

She started walking towards me.

With a sigh, I put the lighter in my pouch and scooped up the journal in my left arm.

This was going to be a long night.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 43 - Ryota Nakamura

Hollow Night

Too much was happening too damn quickly.

You’re telling me I got whizzed away to some fantasy world where we have powers and missions and monsters? None of it was making any damn sense, no matter how you sliced it.

The only reason I was even going along with any of this was because of what Akio wrote in that note. I couldn’t believe what he’d written there when I first read it, so I didn’t mention it to anyone, but now I’m regretting that choice.

Everything was true. These guys were being forced to play some sick game – and what’s more, Akio knew he wouldn’t make it. He’d left it addressed to me, as if he knew I would get roped in next.

Had his Dad read it? After mulling it over, I doubted it. He was always one to respect his son’s wishes, even if he never entirely understood them. Just remembering the emptiness of his eyes, the deadness in his voice, was taking me back to a place I never wanted to return to again.

It was still tearing me up inside. While I was off drooling over Junko or training for the next competition, just how much was my buddy going through? After we promised to always be there for each other…

But I couldn’t afford to get so caught up in regrets. I didn’t deserve that luxury. Not now, when he needed me most. If he’d known that I would get dragged in, then I could trust that everything else written in the note would come to fruition too – which meant I had to be prepared for the worst.

Hoshino was watching me quietly from the corner of my eye, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the screen. Akio said that, as the newcomer, I’d be likely to get targeted especially by the game’s master, Juno, so I needed to be careful.

After some more of their blabbering, they revealed this leaderboard-looking thingy.

Everybody’s names were coded, but Hoshino suddenly chimed in and revealed who everybody was, which saved me some guesswork.

She was ‘Resolution’, which made me ‘Rush’. Maybe I could’ve laughed at the pure cheese of the whole thing if the situation wasn’t so grave.

Rush, though? The name had the strangest sense of familiarity, like meeting an old childhood friend. It felt like my entire being, everything that made me me, could’ve been summed up by that one word - and it scared me.

Based on what Hoshino’d told me, you had a general inkling or intuition for what your power was before you’d even use it; like the lyrics to a song you haven’t listened to for years.

I think I understood what she meant now. Throughout my body there was a kind of pulsing feeling, like something urging me to explode and take off like a rocket. I didn’t know what would happen once I did, but I’ll admit a part of me was looking forward to it.

Heck, the prospect of just letting loose was so appealing that I hadn’t noticed the spinning names and images on the screens. Looks like the ‘target’ was being chosen.

I glanced over at Hoshino. She was gritting her teeth, her skin moist as though she’d just ran 5 kilometres in the space of 3 minutes. I guess she was just as nervous as I was, and had good reason to be. If I really was picked, she’d be in danger too thanks to this Pact business we got going on.

“Hey,” I called. Her gaze snapped to me, and though she tried to play it cool afterwards, for a split second I noticed her eyes were wide with alarm. I smiled.

“We’ll be alright. You’ve got me on your team, for Pete’s sake. Did I mention the time I led a comeback of –“

“25 points across the 3rd and 4th quarter of the boys’ basketball regional finals, leading the Tensei Twisters to victory in the decade’s greatest high school level upset?” She interrupted, clearly not as enthused about the story as I was.

“…Yeah, actually. You have. About a million damn times. Heck, I was there. Or did you forget how the girls’ team was the first in the association’s history to not drop a single game in their journey to getting the trophy?”

I scowled comically.

“Show off.”

“Look who’s talking.”

We turned away then, our attention back onto the screen. The rate at which names were being cycled through was slowing down, and it wouldn’t be long now until we knew who the target would be.

Despite all this, I couldn’t fight the smile that fought its way onto my lips. It looked like Hoshino couldn’t either.

Which made it all the more heartbreaking when it was revealed who was being hunted tonight.

It didn’t sink in at first, I’ll admit.

When they showed the name ‘Fenrir’ with the picture of that one English transfer in third-year, with the cool blue eyes and chestnut brown hair, I was more surprised that it hadn’t been me picked.

Judging from what I’d been told, it seemed pretty on-brand for this ‘Juno’ person to increase the chances of the bottom pairing getting selected, only to choose someone entirely different; say, the new kid on the block.

It was when the relief and (fine, joy) finally faded that I recalled who his partner was.

“…Oh shit.” I remember exclaiming. “W-Wait, isn’t he…?”

Hoshino turned toward me slowly, holding her palms out with stern eyes as if she already knew where this was going. It didn’t matter if she knew or not. She wasn’t going to stop me.

“I’m going after them, right now.” I declared, marching off in the direction of Center Street. As I was moving, there was a flash of light behind me before Hoshino appeared in front of me.

So that was her special sauce, eh?

“Just wait, damnit!” She instructed through gritted teeth. “It isn’t that simple!”

I hoped my facial expression did a good job of displaying my exasperation.

“What? Hell yeah it is that simple! This Fenrir guy being targeted means that Junko’s in danger now too. I don’t know how strong they are, but from what this masked guy said, they’re in some deep shit, Hoshino. If we don’t get over there and help, they could – “

“Just think about it for a second, you idiot!” She screamed. The sudden explosion caught me slightly off guard, but I had the feeling this had been long overdue.

Like she’d even surprised herself with the sudden outburst, she briefly broke eye contact, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath before continuing.

“Look, Mizuko’s gonna be with them.” She began, the constraint evident in her tone. “You know, the one who almost stabbed you in your fucking throat a few minutes ago? Yeah, her. And I don’t have time to go into this with you right now, but I want you to know one thing.”

She looked me dead in the eye.

“She’d sooner kill us and absorb our EXS if it gave her even the smallest chance of doing a better job protecting her sister. Even you can see that much, right?”

Even me? This girl didn’t know half of what I did. The truth was that no matter who’d been picked, I would’ve gone to help them anyway. That was what I’d been instructed to do. But now that Junko was in the line of fire, there was no way in hell I’d be leaving her to die. I’ll never make that mistake again.

“I don’t give a shit what she does to me,” I spat. “Junko needs me, and that’s final. I’m going.”

I had barged past her, and was about to sprint off back to the others when I felt something grip my collar, holding me in place. Before I could even react, I was flying backwards, past Hoshino and tumbling onto the ground. Jesus, what was that strength?

“You’re staying here, Nakamura.” Hoshino’s face was unlike anything I’d ever seen. “I did not get a second chance at this only to have you fuck it all up.”

I had a feeling it might have come to this. As I got back onto my feet, I weighed up my options. I didn’t actually need to beat her, come to think of it – just make it past her and get enough distance so she couldn’t catch me. Simple.

It was meant to be simple anyway. Until Juno started calling our names.

“Resolution, Rush – my apologies. Was I interrupting something?”

Was the broadcast still going on? What was there even left to say? But then, if this was going out to everybody, why call our names specifically?

We were both silent, likely because I was looking for an opportunity to blow past her and she was watching me like a hawk in response.

“…Regardless, there is something the two of you should be aware of.” Juno continued, ignoring the room’s atmosphere. “There is a secret opportunity I wish to make the players outside of the target pairing aware of.”

Okay, now they had my attention. Secret opportunity? Where were they going with this?

“You see, I understand that after…recent events, you are all beginning to realize the importance of seeking your own strength and not becoming excessively reliant on one another.” They noted.

“Thus, in spirit of this newfound philosophy, I have mandated the following rule: if the target is eliminated by a fellow player instead of by the Noise, that player – and their partner – will receive double the amount of EXS from the killing, as opposed to the normal amount.”

I don’t think my jaw could have dropped any further down. What in the actual fuck? So you’re telling me that, in addition to this mercenary group of monsters lurking about somewhere in the city, we have to worry about other players too?

Eiji had warned me – she’d warned me that, with Akio’s ‘elimination’, relations between everyone had grown all kinds of tense.

Shit, now that I think about it, I remember seeing social media stories mentioning that Katoru and Kurogane had gotten into some kind of scrap. Had that been about what went down here the night before?

Either way, I’d learned first-hand that the other players weren’t friends anymore, and that was putting it lightly. I think at this point, even Eiji would –

I glanced over in her direction, and my heart stopped. Just like that.

“Naturally, I’ve kept this a secret from the targeted pair, and Yuki no Yurei, who seems to be in allegiance with them and is thus subject to the same reward. But do be wary, my young warriors…” Juno croned onwards.

I started to run.

“For the Noise and the target pairing will surely only be the beginning of your troubles tonight.”

They were right.

Eiji was gone.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 44 - Arthur Cunningham

Hollow Night

I stood at the brink of another confrontation. Another moment where my actions could decide whether someone’s son, daughter, sister, or brother would see another sunrise.

The image of Edvard Munch's tortured figure in The Scream flashed in my mind; that raw, distorted face perfectly mirrored the turbulence in my heart.

The pain was excruciating. Knowing that your very existence threatened the wellbeing of others, especially the ones you cared for most. Yet, giving up your life would only hasten the outcome you desperately wished to avoid.

Still, as unwelcome as this situation was, it wasn't entirely unfamiliar. No. I had been a burden since the day I was born. The stakes had simply risen higher.

As a child, I imagined myself as a knight in shining armor, strong and unyielding, protecting those I loved. But reality was far grimmer. My worthless, sickly body had betrayed me time and again, and my mother’s tired eyes were a constant reminder of the burden I placed on her. Now, it seemed, I had transferred that burden to Mizuko and Junko.

With a leaden weight in my chest, I trailed slightly behind the sisters as they took a sharp right into Usumizu Street, just as we had planned while Junko was unconscious. Mizuko was leading us to the Shibu Department Store. Being out in the open was too risky, and the store’s supplies offered more possibilities than roaming the streets.

And, while she'd never admit it, the store’s proximity to Center Street allowed easier access for other players to come to our aid. Though, given our cohort’s earlier interactions tonight, the likelihood of that was slim. Despite that, Rusuban had assured us that he and Miharu would come to our aid as soon as they could.

Of course, he hadn't mentioned how he would find us, or what was holding them up. I hadn’t forgotten the events on the rooftop hours before – now, more than ever, I was certain Rusuban was not who we thought he was. I prayed I would live long enough to expose that truth to my comrades.

These thoughts swirled in my mind as I dodged the steady fire of projectiles from the red light in the distance, focusing my essence on the rise and fall of EXS with each shot. I barely noticed when Mizuko and Junko came to a sudden halt.

For a split second, relief washed over me as I saw Katoru appear ahead. But then I noticed he was blocking our path with a terrifying black wall of flame. The air grew colder despite the heat, the night pressing in around us like suffocating darkness.

He did not come as an ally.

To his right, across the road, lay the back entrance to Shibu Department Store. I leaped at the brick wall of a jewelry shop, digging my claws into the gaps in the cement to survey the situation. I had only five seconds before the next shot.

What did Katoru want with us? We’d done him no harm and had our own problems.

Four seconds.

Had he become selfish? Maybe he wanted our EXS for himself. But in that case, wouldn’t there be easier targets than us?

Three seconds.

How could he guarantee that the Noise hunting us wouldn’t see him as a nuisance too?

Two seconds.

Too many unknowns, but a decision had to be made before things worsened.

One second.

Right on cue, I leapt from my perch as the bullet zoomed past, clanking into the wall. Landing softly, I set my eyes on Katoru and rushed toward him. With my heightened EXS perception, I could hold him off long enough for Mizuko and Junko to get to safety.

But what I didn’t expect was Mizuko speeding off in front of me to confront Katoru herself.

“GO!” Mizuko cried as I hesitated behind her. “Take Junko and run, you fool!”

No. No, no, no. I wouldn’t allow it.

Sensing my refusal, Mizuko spun around, her arm outstretched. The tips of her fingers became enveloped in a snowy white essence as a solid blue began to fill her palm.

I halted in my tracks, a few paces in front of her. I couldn’t look away.

“I can take care of this riffraff,” she said firmly, nodding towards Liu. In the distance, I saw him perched atop a black mass, completely still.

“Take Junko and run. Stick to the plan. I will rendezvous with you once I’m done here.”

My shoulders began to shake. Katoru was strong – too strong. Especially with the Tainted, Mizuko would be—

An ear-splitting boom shocked me back to my senses. I turned around too late. The bullet sailed through the air, heading straight for me. I had let my guard down.

If not for the dazzling slice of silver that swept down in front of me, blocking the bullet with a clang, the night would have been over.

“Pay more fucking attention, idiot!” Junko snapped, panting and raising her sword off the concrete. I stood in stunned silence. I didn’t know how she learned the firing pattern, but if she hadn’t…

Suppressing a sigh, Mizuko turned back to Katoru.

“I won’t ask you again,” she reminded. “Leave. NOW.”

This time, I wouldn’t let myself get distracted. Regaining my composure, I offered a solemn nod to Junko, who grit her teeth in response.

“…Fine,” she groaned. I couldn’t imagine how she felt. “Just make sure you take care of him quickly.”

Mizuko began to walk into the inferno.

“Naturally,” she responded.

As we scurried towards the Shibu Dep. Store backdoor, dodging another sniper shot, I swung the door open and Junko rushed inside. The last thing I saw was Mizuko readying her naginata and Liu rising to his feet before I had to shut the door.

“W-What now?” Junko inquired shakily as I barricaded the door with a nearby drawer. I flicked on the lights and surveyed the area.

The hall was dark and damp, a stillness in the air setting my hairs on end. Down the hall were doors labeled ‘Storage’ and ‘Staff’ on either side, with a final door at the end likely leading to the main shopping space.

We needed to proceed carefully.

“Keep watch,” I instructed. “I’ll investigate.”

Crouching down, I closed my eyes and concentrated, paws gliding across the roughly carpeted floor. My nose got to work.

Katoru’s EXS was so uncontrolled it was hard to ignore its scent, even from here. It was like a jagged splash of paint on the Night’s canvas. Mizuko’s, on the other hand, was calm and steady. Calculated. Unwavering.

Junko’s was somewhere in between, like a ticking time bomb. The stress of the situation was getting to her. I’d have to make sure she was taken care of, even though I could barely keep myself together.

Strangely enough, I found more of Katoru’s EXS inside the hall. Specifically on the floors. Following the trail, I noticed a massive black burn mark on the carpet beneath the drawer. This wasn’t like Liu’s current shade of EXS; it was much more desperate. And it wasn’t recent. Whatever had occurred here happened a while ago.

Upon further investigation, I found the slightest remnants of a certain someone’s EXS, piecing together what had happened.

Junko must have noticed the graveness in my expression. “What did you find?”

I stood up. “Nothing,” I lied. “W-We should get a move on.”

Junko remained silent, but I could feel her glare burning into my back as I crept further into the hall. I knew that if I told her what I discovered – what I believed happened here last night – she would run right out that door to Mizuko’s side.

I was struggling to stop myself from doing the same.

Shibu Department Store, for the uninitiated, was an upscale department store right next to Shibuya Station. Dominated by well-known, famous brand names, they sold just about everything your average person would need on a day-to-day basis – clothing, tools, stationery, and recently even food items (to mixed reception). Despite the fact that the department store was only a single part of a bigger shopping complex, the location had become so popular that people began using it to reference the entire shopping center.

Like old Greenwater back home in Kent, there were multiple different stores available in this building, from jewelry stores to opticians. I’d heard rumors of there even being a new maid café on one of the upper floors, which made sense given the absolute hustle and bustle the place had been getting recently.

As we stalked through the silent department store, however, the only sound echoing through the barren halls was our footsteps. It was dark, save for some very frugal lighting emanating from panels on the ceiling.

“Are we alone?” Junko whispered as we snuck through the empty aisles. Her grip on her odachi was tight enough to affect blood flow.

I kept my nose active to alert us to any potential threats, though nothing was coming up on my radar.

“I think so,” I offered cautiously, before adding, “Stay on your guard, however. We don’t know when that’s going to—”

The world suddenly became drenched in red. The hypermarket’s fire alarm had been sounded. Immediately, I backed up against Junko, who also sidled up against me, eyes darting in hypervigilance.

“What’s going on?!” Junko cried, her voice barely audible over the constant ear-piercing screeches of the alarms. I couldn’t focus. There were too many external stimuli for me to access my EXS detection. We were, for all intents and purposes, blind.

Deciding to trust my eyes instead, Junko and I rotated in back-to-back formation, ready for a confrontation at any given moment. We remained that way for several moments, and I became acutely aware that we were being watched.

Suddenly, I heard a mechanical clunking from above, followed by the sound of something like a fire extinguisher echoing from the ceiling. I looked up to find that a strange yellow gas was being distributed by the sprinkler system above.

“Jun..ko!” I strained, now beginning to cough hard. “Need…to…run…!”

Covering her mouth with her hand, she led the way as we scrambled back toward the main entrance to the store from the shopping center’s plaza. In the distance, I could see a grey screen slowly covering the front doors and adjacent windows.

They were bringing down the fire shutters!

Pushing past the painful irritation of my throat, I got on all fours and leaped toward the entrance, grabbing the bottom of the rapidly descending shutters and keeping them in place.

In another world, I would’ve simply broken through the shutters; but whatever this gas was, I could feel it sapping my strength the more I was exposed to it. I couldn’t rely on my physical strength anymore.

I couldn’t even open my mouth to tell Junko to hurry. I didn’t know how long I could keep this up, let alone with my breath suspended. After a few horribly arduous moments, I heard Junko’s rapid footsteps break into a smooth slide below the shutters and back into the plaza.

“I..I have an idea!” she sputtered, inhaling haggard breaths and latching onto the bottom of the shutter.

An 'idea'? Now?

I grunted, irritated as if to say, “Now isn’t the time!” but she was stubborn.

“Just hold on a sec, damn it!” she replied as though having understood. “This might sting a little!”

The other side was silent for a few moments, before I felt a stinging shock at my paws that caused me to recoil in agony. As I quickly withdrew my hands, I was surprised to see that the shutter was frozen in place.

Not only that, but the fire alarm and sprinklers had both turned off. The gas was no longer being distributed. I took quick, sharp inhales with my snout covered to avoid getting any of the remaining gas in my system.

“I think it worked!” I heard Junko call from the other side. The lights were beginning to flicker on. “Most shutters are made of steel or iron, right? I figured if I could conduct enough electricity through them, it might short-circuit whatever control system it’s connected to and cause a failure.”

I rose to my feet slowly, equal parts amazed and relieved by her display of quick thinking.

“G-Good work!” I tried to cheer, but it was taking a while to find my voice. I surveyed the area. All of the windows had been barricaded by the same steel fire shutters, the small gap awarded to us being my only point of contact with the outside.

“Just give me a minute to recuperate my strength, and I’ll—”

I became aware of a subtle rumbling, unlike the tremors that rose to the surface just before a serious earthquake. Junko must have, too, for I saw her feet become deathly still. We stood there for a few moments, listening as the rumbles grew louder and louder, until I just about heard Junko scream, “GET DOWN!”

With a desperate leap, I jumped over the shelves and across the aisles as a giant crash erupted from the ceiling above, into the middle of the store. As the ceiling caved in, massive shards of debris flew in all directions as though a bomb had been detonated in the middle of the store. I ducked behind the nearest aisle shelf, bracing as various objects went flying past.

Eventually, when the projectiles ceased, I clawed my way back up the shelf to see what was at the epicenter of the crash.

A broad, armor-clad mass almost as tall as the store’s ceiling (or rather, where it used to be) stood erect, with piercing yellow eyes that sliced into my soul.

As the lights began to flicker on and off, casting the figure into and out of shadow, only then did it seriously begin to occur to me that I may never get a chance to say goodbye to my mother.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 45 - Kinoko Rusuban

Hollow Night

Things were going even better than expected.

Not only had I been spared of Mizuko, Junko, and that insolent mutt, but it seemed our entourage’s ‘alliance’ had been torn apart by Furusawa’s unfortunate (but appreciated) departure.

As such, Kozuki was practically a freebie. To have a partner so willing to obey, and serve…not so bad on the eyes, either. I had undoubtedly emerged from last night’s dumpster fire as the clear victor, and I had no intentions of stopping here.

Not until I’d reached the very top. Not until these plebians recognized me for who I was; a shining star, risen above the filth and muck.

But before that day came to pass, there was work to be done, and as this deteriorating body of mine kept reminding me, time was absolutely of the essence.

As soon as the target had been picked, and I made my empty promises of coming to assist them (dream on), Red and I got to work. There was a certain someone who had had the nerve to threaten me with their filthy mouth, and they would soon learn I didn’t take threats lightly.

“I’m not gonna warn you again,” Daisuke groaned, clutching that strange tome even tighter. “Get the fuck out.”

While I’d expertly filtered the information I’d received from ‘Inja’ to just myself, I had no way of knowing how much Kurogane knew. About what had transpired here before we came - about what had been transpiring here years before we were even in the picture.

In fact, the truth about our situation here was so outlandish that I thought I was still dreaming.

It was just yesterday, during our first (and only) meeting on the rooftop. As you know, I had arrived late, but not for the reasons I gave. In fact, I would argue I arrived right on time.

As I silently crept through the flights of stairs to the rooftop, careful so as to not even allow my breathing to make a sound, I found him there.

The school janitor, whose name I had no reason to know up until then, was peering out into the space through the ever so slightly ajar door, a sharp ray of yellow sunlight shooting through the gap and illuminating his aged features.

My theory had been spot on.

“Don’t move a muscle.” I instructed, low enough so that those outside couldn’t hear. I noticed the man’s muscles begin to tense.

“Back away slowly from the door, and come downstairs. We’re going to have a little chat.”

Making sure the hallways were absolutely clear, I gestured the janitor into an empty classroom. The way he sauntered in, as though he’d been picked for some kind of prize, sent a chill down my spine.

After turning the lock and pulling down the blinds on the windows, I turned around and audibly gasped. He was stood less than six feet away from me, staring me down. Was he always this tall?

Against my will, I retreated back only to collide against the door with a rattle.

“G-Get back!” I demanded. He continued to stare. Was he going to kill me here? If so, I’d fallen right for his trap.

“They’re going to ask, you know.” He said suddenly. I was losing control of my breathing.

“…Ask what?”

He remained silent for a few seconds, observing me before finally creating distance and moving toward the other side of the classroom, re-arranging some of the desks and chairs whilst humming a tune to himself.

Relieved, involuntary breaths began to pour out of me. I had almost bitten off more than I could chew.

I wouldn’t be repeating that mistake again.

“Calm down,” He sighed upon watching me searching for the classroom keys I’d taken from him. “I’m not going to kill you. Not here, anyway.”

His eyes were patronizing, as though he thought of me as some kind of amateur. A spark began to light in my chest, though I halted my scrolling through the key collection.

“As I was saying, they’re going to ask what your ability is at some point, you know. “

In that moment, I knew for certain that I had guessed correctly. Juno themselves was stood directly in front of me.

“I know.” I replied, keeping my voice even.

“After that stunt you pulled yesterday, we can both agree that telling them the truth is no longer an option, yes?”

I stayed silent, keeping my eyes on him as he meandered between rows of desks, straightening them and wiping off any debris.

Now that I considered it, it was strange that Tensei had a full-time janitor in the first place. Most schools hire maintenance staff, yes, but a lot of the cleaning would get done by the students on duty and some of the staff.

What made this school so special?

“What do you plan on doing about that?”

“None of your business,” I reminded.

In response, he laughed a laugh so hearty and carefree I began to genuinely fear for my life. As ashamed as I am to admit, I wished the others were here.

“If you insist, Cordyceps.”

There it was. That name again. Oh God. I had gone over again and again what I would do, what I would say, if I ended up being correct in my assumptions that Juno was at our school and watching us; yet in the moment, I was more useless than a sitting duck.

I took a deep breath and started again from the top.

“You’re Juno, aren’t you?”

They gave me a look that was difficult to decipher - equal parts puzzlement and amusement, with a dash of…pride? Either way, they remained silent.

“I figured out your identity before anyone else,” I continued. “ And after only one night. For such a display of initiative and astuteness, I believe a reward is in order.”

I waited for any sort of recognition at my words, but they kept looking at me with that strange expression. I needed to do some more convincing – luckily for me, I was quite the skilled negotiator.

“Don’t you want someone like me, who can make the game more interesting?” I offered, recalling Juno’s unsettling words from yesternight. “I can bring a new kind of intensity to the Hollow Night; if only you’ll let me.”

Finally, Juno raised an eyebrow curiously, a small smirk playing at their lips. Despite finding out their identity, I was still in the deep end and they knew it.

Even if I reported my findings back to my ‘comrades’, who would believe us? Blackmail was out of the question.

I had to appeal to Juno’s twisted sense of showmanship in order to make something out of this discovery.

After what felt like an eternity, they finally replied, “State your terms.”

I wasted no time and held out my index finger.

“First, I ask that you provide me with a secondary power.” I demanded. “I’m sure I don’t need to explain why.”

They stroked their chin curiously, closing their eyes and nodding to themselves as though they were weighing up the request.

“And second?”

I took a deep breath and let loose the words that had been forming themselves in my chest. I flexed my middle finger.

“I want to know the truth about the Hollow Night. Everything there is to know about it.”

At that request, Juno displayed a grin so wide and sinister I immediately regretted asking.

“I accept your terms.” They whispered.

It was then that I was given my second ability – the very same that had been ravaging my body and fighting for dominance. According to Inja, this was the ability – the EXS - of Asahi Yoshida, one of the previous game’s players.

As of recent, I’d even been hearing voices. Murmurings and whispers that vanish into thin air the moment I focus on them. By harbouring his EXS, I had introduced a tug-of-war between my soul and his, with my body suffering collateral damage all the while.

Of course, I had also been told the haunting truth about the Hollow Night.

About why we had been brought here to suffer so. It was that knowledge that kept me going, and hastened me to carry out my plan quickly – before it was too late.

With my attention back on the present, I continued watching as Miharu advanced toward Daisuke.

“Fine…” He spat as a distinct red glow radiated from his direction. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

As if in response, Kozuki’s body also began to glow a faint red. Ah, to have an ability as convenient as that, to predict the very future! Even more fortunate to have the user of said ability as an underling.

I began to ready my abilities – both of them – and kept an eye on the book that Kurogane was clinging to so dearly. It was the key to everything, and I was determined to claim it, no matter the cost.

Soon, I would stand on the brink of destiny, ready to seize control of my fate and carve out my dominion.

The greatest act was about to begin.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 46 - Mizuko Shirogetsu

Hollow Night

With the back entrance to the shopping complex firmly shut, I gave Liu my full attention.

He was sat still, and the black mass underneath him that had been supporting his weight twitched with agony.

The last I’d heard of him, he’d gotten into a scuffle with Kurogane, of all people. Of course, I hadn’t forgotten the absolute state of him the night before, trapped inside that strange golden obelisk, and the…hysterics that followed afterward.

I would have expected him to be upset, but this was far beyond anything I could’ve justified. Just what had he done to that Noise?

“What’s the meaning of this, Katoru?” I inquired evenly.

He rose slowly to his feet, never breaking eye contact.

“Aren’t you aware that Cunningham’s being hunted? This is no time for – “

I was cut off by an ear-piercing screech. Liu had placed a hand on the dark shape underneath him - I could recognize now that it was some kind of panther-like creature – and it was writhing with pure agony.

Soon enough, its entire body was engulfed in black flame. Katoru looked back at me.

“Catch.”

He gave me no time to decipher the meaning of such an imperative, for before I knew it, Liu had picked up the burning creature and tossed its charring remains toward me. I raised my naginata’s tip skyward as it sailed toward me, my left hand gripping towards the bottom of the pole, and my right hand clamped around the top of the handle like a vice.

With one fell swoop, I brought the weapon down, the icicles from my polearm’s blade bursting from the point of impact. The two halves of the beast’s carcass dropped either side of me, still and lifeless.

I gazed forward to find Katoru still standing where he had been previously, a distinctly unimpressed expression looming across his haggard face.

“I’ll ask again,” I threatened. “Why are you distracting us, Katoru?”

He was suddenly having trouble maintaining eye contact. Jarring, considering he’d been the one to start this mess. I had no time for immature stunts like this – I was needed elsewhere.

I was about to tell him as much when, almost imperceptibly, his lips moved.

“I’m going to fix it.”

…What? I sighed.

“I don’t have time for this.” I admitted, walking toward the door that Junko and Arthur had rushed through. When Liu wanted to function like an actual human being, maybe I’d acknowledge his existence.

I shifted my thoughts toward our actual adversaries, the ‘group of Noise’ Juno had stated were after the Cunningham, as I lowered my weapon and headed toward the door. It was very likely that the sniper from earlier wouldn’t be the last of our problems tonight.

Speaking of, the shots from said Noise had ceased completely; meaning it not only had no interest in either myself or Katoru, but it had likely moved to a new spot to survey its targets from. Would it be regrouping with its allies? If so, I needed to hurry. There was no guarantee that Shibu Department Store was completely safe, even if it was a sanctuary comparative to the rest of the Hollow Night.

I was reaching for the doorknob when some kind of projectile slammed into the wooden door, causing it to erupt into flame. I span around to find Liu doubling over and holding his head in his hands, and much closer to me than I was comfortable with.

“You dOn’t…walk aWAy from me…” I heard him mutter in a voice I didn’t recognize, now dropping to his knees and clutching his hair with such ferocity I expected it to come off. “…when I’m talking tO YOU.”

Ignoring the slight shaking in my right hand, I stepped back several feet, seeking to create some distance. If Liu refused to stop distracting us, then he only had himself to blame for what happened next.

I had no mercy left to spare him.

“You’ve delayed me long enough, Katoru.”

I frosted the tip of my naginata and held it in position. It was truly a shame. Katoru and his alter-ego had made for mighty allies indeed.

“Farewell – and good riddance to that partner of yours. I look forward to his absence.”

My heart started to race. I took a deep breath, and steeled my resolve, but my arms refused to move. Annoyed by their cowardice, I thought of Mother, and her last words to me on that fateful day at Molco.

That gave me all the courage I needed.

Closing my eyes, I thrust my naginata forward, and felt the delectable, horrifyingly satisfying sensation of a blade sinking into flesh.

Had I done it? Had I really done it?

Ending the life of another human being is a line that, once crossed, you can never return from. You will have to carry the weight of that sin as a burden for the rest of your life.

Every night, before I inevitably closed my eyes and descended into this tenebrous warzone, I found myself repeating those same questions over and over again.

Are you prepared to kill? To murder? To end the life of another for the sake of your own?

My answer would often change depending on circumstance. But tonight, I didn’t have the luxury of lip service and introspection. All I had available was action, and it seemed that through this action alone, I had discovered who I truly was.

It was equal parts liberating and frightening.

My eyes slowly opened, unravelling and picking apart the scene before me. Liu was deathly still, my naginata remaining upright and sticking out of his left shoulder even after I had let go of its pole.

I wouldn’t stop shaking.

“K-Katoru…?”

I was, ashamedly, so distraught that I hadn’t noticed my naginata slowly rising out of his body, until it had fallen completely onto the ground with a clank. Immediately, my heart had began to pound like a drum. I was making a desperate grab for my naginata when I saw it.

A massive, hulking black arm had arisen out of the spot where I’d stabbed Liu, and was gripping onto the blade. Stopping in my tracks, I watched as the hand squeezed the metal blade until it had been crushed and folded into itself like a discarded can of soda.

By the time I’d returned to my senses, Katoru was on his feet, rivers of red running down his left arm. Despite the shadow his hair was casting over his eyes, I knew he was looking right at me.

Like a rabbit picking up on the low growl of a starving coyote, I scrambled to my feet as my survival instinct took over. I didn’t look back. Pacing now, I heard a shout behind me, but didn’t look back, not even as I heard the rapid pounding of footsteps that weren’t my own.

In the distance, where I had originally been stood, a singular white glow emanated from the ground. Instantly, my heart overflowed with joy. Realizing that this was perhaps my only chance at making it out of this nightmare alive, I poured all of my strength into my legs, the wind rushing against me even more violently as I sped.

I was only a few paces away from the orb that the panther Noise had dropped when a scorching heat had suddenly engulfed my right leg, tossing me off balance. The world was spinning as I felt my body bounce across the asphalt, each thud more violent than the last.

When I’d finally suspended movement, the sphere taunted me with its seductive glow a few yards ahead, just out of reach. I couldn’t hold back my screams of agony as my right leg had been enveloped with dark hellfire.

Gritting my teeth, I reached back with my right arm, resting it on the top of my thigh. A thick, frigid ice was beginning to spread down, painfully but surely covering the ferocious flames. As I did so, I raised my left elbow, before slamming it down hard on the ground to drag the rest of my heavy body forward.

If I could just get to the sphere and consume it – if I could just get more power-

By the time I’d gotten close enough to touch it with my fingertips, my hand was pummelled into the ground with a fierce stomp. I cried with both pain and disappointment as Liu looked down at me.

For the first time since my attempt at his life, I met his eyes, and instantly regretted doing so. While still coloured a piercing yellow, there were wisps of black smoke emanating from his irises like an open flame.

In that moment, I realized that Katoru’s body was literally burning out with hatred.

“nO more RuNNING.” He garbled as his head twitched. “…gIvE mE yoUR...YOUR….”

Liu’s right hand had spread out, and was reaching toward me, practically dripping with shadowy vitriol. I struggled and struggled, summoning my other hand to beat and pound away at his foot, but to no avail.

Sensing a searing heat begin to approach my face, the despair became too great for me to fight any longer. I had lost.

I laid there, like a deer in headlights, waiting for my painful annihilation to come. In just a moment’s time, there would be nothing left of me but ashes.

All that was left was to close my eyes, and pray that my sister would not suffer the same fate.

After a few moments, the heat had reached a standstill, refusing to increase any further. Hesitantly, I opened my eyes, and involuntarily widened them at the scene I had come to witness.

Liu’s hand was shaking, struggling, as if being held back by something. Gripping his forearm tightly was the same mighty black limb that had crushed my naginata, only this time, it was holding Liu back?

“S-STOP!” Katoru groaned, equal parts confused and frustrated. “WhY woN’t YoU leT ME GO?!”

To my absolute shock, a head covered in messy white hair and glowering white eyes sprouted out of Liu’s wound. The rivulets of blood flowing down his arm had turned pitch black. I gasped, refusing to believe what I was seeing.

“NO!” The Tainted cried, struggling to contain its master. “Once you cross this line, there’s no turning back! This isn’t what he wanted, you shithead!

He? There was too much happening at once, but there was one thing I was clear on. For whatever reason, the Tainted was at odds with its lord, and was protecting me.

I’d been given a second chance. That was all I needed to know.

Most of my EXS had been used to temper the fire ravaging my leg, but with the last of my reserves, I formed a small but lethally sharp shard, ramming it straight into Katoru’s calf.

Both he and the Tainted shrieked in pain, stumbling backwards into the wall. My hand was free! With one final, desperate surge of energy, I dived over the white orb and held it close as its power washed over me and bathed me in a deep white luminescence.

My despair, my pain, and my fear – I felt them all begin to wash away as the world was enveloped in white.

When the light faded, I felt renewed. The pain in my right leg was gone, my EXS restored, and instantly I knew I’d gained some kind of strength that was begging to be unleashed.

Taking deep breaths, I slowly rose to my feet, the trepidation from earlier a distant memory. I turned to find Liu being physically contained and held back by his own servant, who had now fully materialized, arms wrapped around Liu’s body like a coiled snake.

The Tainted’s head suddenly snapped in my direction.

“GO, GET OUTTA HERE!” It screamed, its voice straining. “I-I don’t know how much longer I can – “

Its sentence was cut off by its own shouts and screams.

“EnOuGh! YOU BELONG TO ME!” Liu slurred. “TO ME!!”

The Tainted’s body was then violently dashed to the floor, before being absorbed into Liu’s, dragging across the ground and screaming until nothing remained.

Silence.

Then, Liu’s eyes slowly turned toward me, his gaze piercing and pointed. Two grotesque arms of The Tainted emerged from either side of his back, giving him a monstrous, four-armed appearance. He met my eyes with a perilous edge in his voice, his tone dripping with malice.

"No mOrE... rUnNIng."

A few moments ago, such a declaration would have sent a spark of terror into my very soul. But the situation was different now. I could feel a newfound strength surging through me, awakening something that had long been dormant.

Concentrating, I clenched and opened my fists repeatedly until I felt a subtle click, a connection to an untapped well of power.

Slowly, a frosty, double-edged longsword materialized in my right hand, its blade shimmering with an icy aura. In my left hand, a broad, crested shield of the same material formed, solid and unyielding – just as I had visualized.

This was only scratching the surface of what I was truly capable of. I could feel it, a burgeoning part of me stirring to life, ready to be unleashed.

“Interesting,” I smiled, admiring my creations before locking eyes with my foe. My heart pounded with a mix of anticipation and adrenaline, each beat echoing in my ears like a war drum.

“I was just about to say the same thing.”

The air around us crackled with tension, the oppressive weight of the imminent clash pressing down on everything like a storm about to break.

Liu's eyes flickered with a sinister glee, his monstrous form towering over me, yet I stood my ground, the frosty glow of my weapons illuminating the darkened space.

In that charged silence, time seemed to stretch, and each heartbeat felt like an eternity.

The world around us faded into insignificance as we focused solely on each other, two titans about to collide.

 

[RhythmThief]

Tsuneo Furusawa

Wednesday, October 18th, 23:49

I’m not sure why I’m even bothering. I learned long ago that alcohol never mended a broken heart – only made you too numb to feel its pain.

You’re gone.

Just like that, the one thing I had left in this world, that I could lay claim to and call my own, is gone.

I can’t get the hellish scene out of my head – waking up to find that you hadn’t made breakfast like you usually do, thinking you’d mistakenly slept in, only to walk into your room and find –

My eyes – they just won’t stop stinging. What kind of father have I been? Even nine years later, I’m still not over Shiori and what she did to us.

I knew you were hurting too. You loved your mother more than anything back then, always saying you’d grow up big and strong to protect her from ‘the bad guys.’ It was unbearable to see the confusion, the hurt on your face all those years ago when she said she was ‘going away for a while.’

That was when you needed me most, wasn’t it? You needed someone to step up and support you. To band the fort together and tell you that everything was gonna be okay. You needed your father.

But he wasn’t there.

How could he have been when he was drowning in grief too, with no hope of ever resurfacing?

Oh, Akio. Look at me. I’m a mess. I’ve been given leave from work, but that was the last thing I needed. All I have now are these thoughts for company. The house, the world, my life – it all feels so empty and meaningless without you here with me.

If there is a God out there, why did he have to make us suffer so? What did we do wrong to deserve such treatment? The more I try and look for answers, the darker the path ahead grows.

Ryota came to visit you today. I saw the note you left for him on the table. Don’t worry – I didn’t peek. I know how you boys get about having your own space. Ryota’s a good kid, and I know he’d sooner chop off his left pinky than put you in serious danger, so why the note? What did you think was going to happen to you? Were you in some kind of danger?

If so, why couldn’t you tell me or the others?

The nurses told me a girl came to see you today too, right after Ryota. Was she your girlfriend? You never mentioned any girls before. I hope what happened between your mother and me didn’t sour the prospect for you.

My son.

The more I think of the little things, your little idiosyncrasies and habits, the more this pain inside amplifies. You looked so tired these past few days. And whenever I walked past your room during the night, I swore I could hear your panicked breaths and mumbles, your tossing and turning. What had you been dreaming about that had you so distressed?

My phone is buzzing. It’s your mother.

I just saw your text. I’m so, so sorry. Can we talk tomorrow lunchtime? X

A sudden anger is flaring up in my chest. I tried calling her about fifty-five times this morning. Straight to voicemail. Her own flesh and blood is in a coma, yet she only finds time to text back now?

I’m tired of making excuses for her, Akio, and I’m tired of sitting back and watching as everything I hold dear is taken from me. I won’t sit back any longer.

I’m going to find out what happened to you, son. I’m going to find out who is responsible. I’m going to do what I must.

Hang in there. Your father’s on his way.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 47 - Junko Shirogetsu

Hollow Night

“Arthur!”

I beat my fist against the half-closed metal shutters, the gap at the bottom now blocked by debris from the explosion on the other side. I screamed as loud as I could for him to find cover as soon as I realized what was happening, and I was praying I wasn’t too late.

“Arthur! Are you in there?!” I cried. “Say something, damnit!”

Please don’t be dead.

Please don’t be dead.

Please don’t –

“I-I’m fine!” A familiar voice on the other side of the shutters called out. My legs almost gave way from the pure relief at hearing his voice. But the fear still present in Arthur’s tone brought me back to my senses.

“There’s something in here with me,” Arthur spoke carefully, confirming my suspicions.

“W-What? What do you mean?”

“I think it’s some kind of Noise. It’s... quite large. Heavily armoured with some kind of bludgeon, but it isn’t making any moves.”

“Shit!” I muttered under my breath, heart sinking.

Arthur was strong, but not invincible. Plus, we didn’t know if that sniper Noise from earlier or even other enemies we hadn’t encountered yet were making their way – no doubt the explosion caused by this new Noise could’ve been seen and definitely heard from a mile away. Not the kind of attention we wanted right now.

“We need to leave!” I commanded, kicking the rubble piled beneath the shutters to no avail. “Can you get out through the hole it made in the roof?”

There was a pause. After a few seconds, Arthur replied, but he spoke words that made my hairs stand on end.

“Junko, it’s not alone!”

I felt another one of those tingles in my spine.

Now, for some context; ever since childhood, I’ve had pretty good senses.

Tracking small flying insects - especially the fast, annoying ones - was a breeze.

I could tell when it was about to rain simply by feeling the subtle change in humidity, a talent that the weather-report-ignorant like Emiko had endless amounts of approbation for.

These days, I was even able to tell who was walking around the house based solely on the tempo, weight, and drag of their footsteps. Then again, I only had Mizuko and my step-father to test it out on regularly, so the jury was still out on that.

But perhaps the one facet of my gift that had proved most useful, time and time again, was that I could tell when I was being watched.

It often started as a dull pulse in the back of my head, meandering down my neck and finally reaching my spine as a sharp tingle. By then, I’d know who the culprit was. I’d make a few acted out, seemingly innocent glances around, not making it obvious I was scanning a completely different direction via my peripherals.

Normally it wasn’t of any real concern. Maybe some dreamy-eyed boy or another letting their gaze linger for a bit too long, often on parts of my body they had no business with.

Occasionally, they’d even be with their girlfriends, which made the unrequested attention even more unwelcome.

This gaze, however, was of lethal intent, and when I immediately span round to see a sharp silver edge flying right toward me, I mentally added another use case for this peculiar gift of mine.

An involuntary gasp and a side-step later, a sushi knife had narrowly made its way past my head, sinking right into the metal shutters.

“Uhh, Arthur…?!” I began to murmur as I took a look at my newest opponent. “I have company!”

For a monster, this Noise was unsettlingly humanoid, standing tall and lean. Its form was almost seeming to flicker and shift with every movement, as if the very air around it was in a constant state of flux.

It had hair of a silvery white, flowing like a mane caught in an eternal breeze, each strand dancing with a life of its own. Sharp, piercing eyes of stormy gray darted about, vigilant, and filled with a relentless intensity that suggested an acute awareness of his surroundings.

The creature was even wearing some kind of garment reminiscent of a kannushi - it was both practical and regal, a blend of tight-fitting armor and flowing garments that likely allowed for maximum mobility without sacrificing protection.

The armor, gleamed with a metallic sheen, reflecting the ambient light in a dazzling display. It covered his chest, shoulders, and limbs, intricately etched with swirling patterns that mimicked the currents of what looked like a mighty gale.

“Curses!” Cunningham yelled. By his volume, it sounded like he’d moved closer to the shutter than before. “I’m on my way!”

This was bad. Yes, they were after Arthur, but it looked like these creatures were smart enough to realize that they could get to him through me. Even so, they had him dead to rights in that room. Why didn’t they just –

As if to answer my question, there was a slow but loud movement in Shibu Department Store. From the way the ground beneath began to rumble, and debris from the crash began to shift and shake, I knew what was happening.

“Wait! It’s making a move!” Arthur cried.

They were trying to separate us. Together, we were stronger and more tenacious, but alone, just picking off one of us would take care of the other.

As far as they were concerned, Arthur and I were both the targets.

“Keep that Noise at a distance, and try to survive!” I advised, not taking my eyes off of my new adversary. It was giving me an off-puttingly studied look.

“I’ll take care of this new one quickly and join you in there, okay?!”

There was a tense silence as the graveness of the situation became clear to us both. I think that, deep down, we both knew that without the others’ help, this might’ve been it for us.

Even so, Arthur replied with a stoic “Very well. I believe in you, Junko!” before I heard his paws sprint off deeper into the department store. At least that made one of us.

Drawing my odachi and appraising my new foe, I offered a silent prayer for strength.

I had a bad feeling I would soon need as much of it as I could get.

There was one thing that had been bugging me. No doubt, this Noise looked a bit more sophisticated than most of the others we’d come across so far, dressed to the frills in the finest Hogwarts cosplay, but things weren’t adding up.

How did something so slender manage to throw that knife hard enough to piece an entire steel shutter?

I intended to find out.

With a deft spin, I reached for the knife’s handle, yanking it with force out of the shutters. Once I’d rotated back to my starting direction, I surged the tool with a slight jolt and sent it right back to its sender.

To be honest, I wasn’t sure exactly what to expect. Maybe a martial arts move or two? The summoning of some kind of spirit or familiar?

Instead, what I got was a formidable gust of wind that almost swept me off my feet – literally. Struggling to regain balance, I allowed myself to drop to the ground right as the knife was sent back - straight over my head, returning into its new home.

“Just perfect,” I muttered under my breath as I rose to my feet. “Wind.”

Already, my winning vision was being thrown into the gutter. Given my skillset, I needed to get in reasonably close to do any damage to someone, either with my odachi or with some lightning. Preferably both.

I met eyes with the creature, who I’d decided would be called Zephyr, as it crossed its arms condescendingly. It was still strange to see these monsters perform movements that felt so…human. If anything, the gesture reminded me slightly of that Noise from last night – Inja, was the name it gave?

Though it was likely a ruse, it was a shame it was killed instantly by our joint attack. It may have been useful to us if we’d interrogated, or more likely, dissected it to see what was making it tick.

Luckily, I’d have the opportunity to do that today with Zephyr here – but I’d need to earn that right first, and that’s exactly what I’d planned to do.

“Very well!” I spoke with more passion than intended, feeling a competitive spark begin to light in my stomach. “Let’s see if you can – “

I ceased my speech completely when I noticed Zephyr’s left arm raised and extended behind it, winding up as if about to slap something. Or someone.

Reflexively, I jumped just as it swung the arm back around. I heard it much sooner than I saw it, but out from the arc of its swing came a sharp ark of startlingly high pressure air that sliced through the now empty space beneath me, leaving a deep gash in the wall.

My heart sank as my feet made contact with the ground.

With my odachi in hand, and a seemingly bottomless anxiety having ripped into my heart, I started to run.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 48 - Arthur Cunningham

Hollow Night

Sounds like clashing metal and the booming of a jet ripped through the otherwise silent Shibu Department Store. The noise was coming from outside – likely from whatever Junko was fighting.

I gritted my teeth in self-restraint as I galloped further away from the metal shutters. I couldn’t believe I’d let the two of us get separated. This was exactly what they wanted.

For now, I sensed only two EXS signatures – the ironclad golem inside with me and whatever was outside with Junko. Both signatures were unsettling and ruthless, but what scared me most was their familiarity. I couldn’t put my finger on why, but ruminations would have to wait.

Desperation clawed at me as I hit the back wall of the store’s interior. I scaled a nearby aisle sign, pulling myself up to get a better view of my destroyed surroundings. Swinging from its chains, I scoped the harrowing scene unfolding on the other side of the space.

Like a scene from a sci-fi film, the massive Noise, Ironclad, was slowly approaching, each step a deliberate and destructive display of might. Standing as tall as the supermarket roof, Ironclad’s immense form filled the entire space, a towering monolith of metal and muscle. Its golem-like body was terrifying, each movement causing the very ground to tremble.

Every step it took left a trail of destruction in its wake; shelving units were crushed underfoot, and merchandise was sent flying in all directions. The air was thick with dust and the acrid scent of burnt metal, remnants of the explosion lingering in the confined space.

My breath came in ragged gasps as my fingers dug into the sign. My mind raced for a plan. The distance between us was closing alarmingly fast, each step echoing like thunder in the hollow silence of the supermarket. Escape routes were blocked by debris and twisted metal. There was no way out – aside from the massive hole that lay past Ironclad, its towering presence beginning to block out its light.

The oppressive atmosphere pressed in on me, each heartbeat a countdown to the inevitable confrontation. This monster’s methodical approach left no room for doubt – it was a relentless force, and I was its target.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath and coming to terms with what my next move would invariably have to be. In the face of such overwhelming power, what I had to do next to survive would demand every ounce of my cunning and resolve. Steeling myself, I gripped the sign tightly, preparing for my first move.

In that fleeting moment, standing on the precipice of confrontation, it was as if the entire ruined department store held its breath, awaiting the inevitable clash between man - no, beast - and metal giant.

Time stood still as I met Ironclad’s gaze. It loomed an aisle or two ahead of me, its immense form casting me in its shadow. Its head dipped in a subtle nod, as if to say, “Your move.”

Understanding that this might be the last sight I was ever awarded, I took my time. I recalled all the precious places, things, and people that I kept sheltered in my heart – from the first time Mother took me to the National Gallery back home to the summer days spent marching through the fields and meadows.

Will they be forgotten along with me? When all is said and done, years from now, will the future National Gallery goers know that I, too, walked those storied halls? Will the birds and butterflies know that, at one point, I too admired their beauty and meandered along those quiet country roads?

I doubted I would ever reach a conclusion in the short time I had left, but the simple recollection of those treasured days was enough to put my soul at ease.

With a final brace, I leapt off the sign, landing on the dilapidated tile flooring with a hard plod. In an instant, I was off, darting towards the source of the hellish shadow that drowned me.

As I sprinted down the main walkway between what was once the aisles, over the crushed pile of debris, around the messily pooling liquids that lay underneath caved-in squares of roofing, and barging straight through toppled-over shelving units, Ironclad remained eerily still.

It was only when I was mere meters away from its feet that I heard the shifting of metal. I looked up from my intense focus to see a cylindrical iron shape, like a terrific missile, zooming towards me.

Just as I’d planned – if I got close enough to it, it wouldn’t be able to use its bludgeon effectively. It’d need to resort to other, more manageable forms of attack!

I waited until the fist was just a few paces away before deftly lunging to the side, just about retaining my balance. With the opening before me, I changed direction to skitter through the beast’s brassbound legs, making sure it noticed.

Once I had just about passed through, I jumped with a great leap backward, turning mid-air and landing on the lower part of its back. Having lost sight of me, its movements became somewhat agitated, but only as fast as its heavy adornments would allow.

I hung on for dear life as I was swung to and fro, digging my claws into its armor as lightly as possible for grip. I scaled the golem slowly but surely, keeping my movements surreptitious and untraceable – quite the challenge given my size in this hulking form.

Still, with the lives of those around me on the line, I was willing to endure any discomfort required to see them home safely to their beds. No matter what it cost me.

As the golem’s movements suddenly began to slow to a disturbing halt, I continued to ascend its metallic figure. It was a universal rule in nature that no being was without its weakness, no blessing without its burden, and in my time fighting, fearing, and surviving the perils of this tenebrous realm, that had undoubtedly remained true – for better or worse.

It was that observation that had kept the small flame of hope lit within me, even as an enormous shadow descended over me, washing my vision in darkness.

Before I could even register what was happening, my muscles seized control, and I found myself leaping off my perch at the border between Ironclad’s latissimus dorsi and teres major as its own hand clapped against its back, sending it stumbling forward with its own force.

I was still airborne, having just reached the apex of my vertical travel and about to descend when a distinct yet subtle yellow swelling on the Noise’s nape commanded my attention.

Honing my senses in on the Noise’s EXS makeup, I allowed myself to ignore the desperate situation of my rapidly encroaching descent and dug my perception as deep as it would go. It was in those murky, unfamiliar extents of my senses that I came to a startling realization – one that shocked me back to reality.

Not waiting for Ironclad to raise itself up from its nigh doubled-over position, I dove through the air like a plummeting missile finding its mark. In one reckless fell swoop of my arm, I clawed through the protuberance, a sinister satisfaction washing over me as my nails penetrated and ran through the uncomfortably wet interior of the hump, sending splashes of liquid pouring from the creature’s neck.

I landed on my feet and ran on all fours as Ironclad’s pained groans chased me. Once I’d judged I was a safe enough distance away from the beast, I spun on my paws and slid around until I was facing the goliath once more.

I struggled to keep the relief from dulling my senses, but drank in the small victory. Ironclad was crouched down, kneeling on one knee and covering the now oozing wound on the nape of its neck with one of its mighty hands. Past the practical waterfalls of yellow liquid spilling down onto the destroyed tiled floors, I could feel it glaring at me with such animosity I almost gulped.

Taking quick breaths, my composure began to return in small increments as I pondered my next move, but Ironclad never broke eye contact with me, remaining still as a statue. If my theory was correct, then Ironclad was on borrowed time, now that I’d heavily interrupted the flow of its EXS. In fact, if I could simply avoid it and keep my distance, that would be best.

However, in a space this enclosed, how long would I be able to keep it up before I was eventually cornered? No – I needed to end this with my own two hands, but I needed to be careful. Any animal is at its most dangerous when driven into a corner.

With my thoughts laid solely on Junko and her sister, I launched into a sprint right as Ironclad rose to its feet with frightening speed. When I looked closely, I could see its normally grey complexion beginning to darken into an inky black, with yellow bumps and grooves spreading like a virus throughout its body.

I couldn’t observe for too long, however, as I opted to take a sudden right, vanishing underneath the debris.

Like a mole navigating a complex underground labyrinth, I scurried and skittered through the cavernous tunnels of destruction that had now formed, feeling a rising sensation of incoming victory with every false, frustrated punch being thrown above in a desperate attempt to guess my location.

Soon enough, an eerie silence had swept over the surface, and I could no longer hear Ironclad’s heavy thudding above.

Similarly, tapping into my senses yielded no results. Now feeling a suffocating wave of dread washing over me, I counted to three before leaping up into the air with a jump powerful enough to break holes through the debris that had acted as a roof.

At first, there was nothing at all. The space was bereft and empty as though nothing had been here at all, save for a slightly rippling pool of yellow liquid that had formed where Ironclad once stood.

The movement I heard next was so incredibly subtle, that if not for the fact that it was followed by the most hellish pain I had ever experienced ripping through my stomach like the skewering of meat, I might have died just there and then.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 49- Miharu Kozuki

Hollow Night

“Scarecrow attempts to lock eyes with Red, his kusarigama slicing through the air as he launches it toward her, downstage-centre.”

The words guiding me danced across my vision like autumn leaves cascading in the breeze, their elegance masking the dire weight of their meaning.

At first, these directions frightened me. The notion of surrendering all control over my fate, my actions dictated by unseen forces, living each second on the razor's edge of life and death—it was no small feat to accept.

The image of tiptoeing through a minefield, where the slightest misstep could mean a gruesome end, often haunted my thoughts. There would be no second chances.

But tonight… tonight, I began to see this foresight as a gift, something to be cherished and wielded with purpose. With the favor of the gods on my side, who could possibly hope to challenge me?

As I stood motionless, something within me stirred. The power my ally and I had acquired from a roaming beast on the way here was awakening, vibrant and potent.

Instantly, a new hue burst to life beneath the crimson directions.

"[Perform a clockwise 90° side-step, pivoting on your left foot, with your eyes fixed on the kusarigama.]"

Before I could even register the words, my muscles responded with uncanny precision. My body moved with meticulous efficiency, my feet stepping lightly as the billhook flew past me.

My gaze followed the kusarigama, the metal chain linking the sickle on one end to the heavy iron weight on the other. In its slight reflection, I noticed a gentle blue tint staring back at me.

I recalled being told that my body pulsed red whenever my foresight was in play—perhaps executing these new directives would alter that pulse to blue?

No matter. I was preparing to strike when I realized with a jolt who was directly behind me—the sickle's next target. My hand shot out, seizing the chain and halting its deadly arc.

A metallic clatter echoed as something fell to the ground behind me. I glanced back to see Cordyceps, cowering with his hands raised. He lowered his arms cautiously, peering over them to see the threat neutralized.

"Impressive as always, Red," he croaked, clearing his throat. "Good work."

"Stay vigilant," I warned, my gaze snapping back to Scarecrow. The red glow in his eyes had faded, but his smirk remained.

"Aww, did the little council prez get scared?" he jeered. "If not for your little sidekick here, you'd be—"

The crow's taunt was cut short by the sharp whistle of something slicing through the air.

In the time it took him to boast, I had hurled the kusarigama back at him, the sickle aimed squarely at his head.

His eyes widened briefly, but he quickly masked his surprise with an impassive expression. Without even looking, he caught the sickle's handle.

"...Yeah, stick to the whole Musketeer thing you got going on, redhead. The kusarigama's not your style."

I met his taunt with a confident smirk, deciding to save my retort until after I'd retrieved the enigmatic journal and uncovered its secrets.

I unsheathed my rapier and the blade I’d won from last night’s battle against the Samurai, and subsequently Reaper. My rapier’s slender gray steel gleamed with the reflection of my crimson eye, complementing the fractured yet lethal edge of the new white blade in my right hand.

"As you wish," I said, raising both blades, their pointed edges aimed at Scarecrow.

Scarecrow’s reaction to my rapid charge was unexpected—he ran straight at me. We were mere centimetres apart when I swung my blades forward, meeting his taut metal chain with a resounding clank!

A powerful gust tore through the underpass, knocking over bins and sending patches of grass swaying toward the road, as though fleeing from the epicenter of our clash.

In the corner of my eye, I noticed the moon gazing down at us, a silent witness to our duel.

"You're stronger than you look," Scarecrow grunted, struggling to hide his exertion as he searched my eyes. "Why stick with that wet wipe? You know he's just using you!"

I ignored his misjudgement, focusing instead on the new strings of red and blue hovering above him.

"Scarecrow activates his powers and attempts to make eye contact with Red."

"[Headbutt Scarecrow.]"

I pulled my head back and closed my eyes, then launched forward with reckless abandon. A searing pain exploded in my skull as I collided with his head, stumbling backward from the impact while he groaned in agony.

When I opened my eyes, a small rivulet of bright, viscous liquid trickled from his nose. I realized I had aimed slightly lower than intended.

His teeth clenched, his face contorted in rage. But his gaze wasn’t focused on me—it was directed past me, at someone else. Whatever Cordyceps was doing, it was only fuelling Scarecrow’s anger.

With a wordless growl, Scarecrow began spinning his chain in a circular motion, like a tornado gathering strength. He then hurled the bladed edge at me. As the bloodthirsty weapon streaked toward me, I gripped my blades tight and read the directions that appeared.

Dodging with precision, I felt a sinking realization as the kusarigama curved back toward me, its terrifying speed threatening to cleave my chest open.

I left the ground with a small leap, leaning back into a flip and watching the kusarigama retract beneath me, strands of my hair caught in its wake.

Landing steadily, I wasted no time and shot off into another sprint.

Scarecrow, assessing that he had no time for a counterattack, hooked onto a nearby streetlight. The journal was tucked under his arm, illuminated by the amber light.

Seizing the moment, I leaped forward, guiding my white blade into a quick slash as he ascended. Landing on the ground, I spun around to assess the damage.

Before my eyes even reached him, I noticed red droplets raining down into the streetlamp’s spotlight, forming scarlet pools on the concrete. The sight was eerily beautiful, holding me in a trance.

A pained groan, tinged with surprise, snapped me back to reality. I looked up to find Scarecrow, still clutching the journal despite the open gash on the left side of his stomach. His grimace of pain confirmed that my strike had hit true.

"Relinquish the tome this instant," I demanded, my voice cold. "And no further harm shall come to you."

If he heard me, he gave no indication. Instead, he simply released his grip on the kusarigama and dropped down into the pool of his own blood. The kusarigama clinked to the ground, its chain unfurling with a miserable clatter.

A shiver ran down my spine, though I couldn’t tell if it was from the crisp wind blowing through the backstreets or the unnerving, blank stare Scarecrow now directed at me.

"Where did you get that sword?" he asked flatly, as though the last few minutes had not occurred. He now stood at his full height. "I don't remember seeing it on you before."

I exchanged a puzzled glance with Cordyceps, who furrowed his brow but remained silent. I took stock of the situation before replying.

"That does not concern you, Scarecrow. Release the tome. Now."

At my command, he shrugged, sighing flippantly.

"Oh, brother. Haven't you realized by now?"

His behaviour at that moment was strange, and perhaps it was due to this confusion and my momentary hesitation that he managed to do what he did next.

I blinked—just a simple, involuntary blink—and Scarecrow vanished, leaving the tome to plop onto the concrete.

An equally involuntary gasp escaped me as I desperately scanned the area. The underpass was eerily silent, with only my rapid breaths breaking the quiet. The pillars holding the train tracks above were cracked, worn by neglect and torment. Vines and undergrowth crept along the shadows, silently expanding their reach.

A sudden impact slammed into my right shoulder, sending me crashing against something metal. I fought the urge to succumb to the sleepiness that threatened to overwhelm me, forcing myself to my feet. I had collided with a bin, but no one was there—except for Cordyceps, who stood a few meters away, his expression a mix of shock, concentration, and fear. He was reaching for something in his cloak, though I couldn’t tell what.

Again, I was hurled back into the road, tumbling like a discarded ragdoll. But this time, I caught the slightest glimpse of him.

My foresight had abandoned me! The only times the directions would cease were when there was nothing I could do to change what was about to happen.

No more directions, no more warnings, no more guidance. I had been thrown into the lion's den, with no hope of escape.

By the time I noticed the kusarigama was no longer on the ground, it was too late. A cold breath brushed against my ear.

"...Did you really think that was a fight?" Scarecrow’s voice was a venomous whisper. "I just wanted to see how far along you were—but boy, are you sorry."

I felt the cold, silent rustle of the metal chain as it coiled around my neck, the scythe’s razor-sharp edge hovering just millimetres from my throat. In my mind’s eye, I could already see it cutting through my flesh.

"Looks like someone skipped the instruction manual before playing with their shiny new toys. That fancy little sword of yours? It didn’t do a damn thing."

Suppressing a gasp, I forced my gaze downward to where Scarecrow had bled moments ago—only to see that the blood had transformed into a dark, effervescent mixture, bubbling and evaporating into the night air.

"EXS," Scarecrow sneered, as if answering the unspoken question burning in my mind. "You didn’t spill my blood—you spilled my EXS. Though even then, these aren’t really our bodies, so none of us are actually bleeding. But you get the picture, don’t you? That sword of yours seems to drain EXS."

I stayed silent, my grip tightening around my weapons. What I had believed to be a victory was now revealed as a bitter defeat.

"But your speed—"

"Oh, that?" he drawled, his tone dripping with condescension. "To someone as weak as you, it must look like I’m vanishing. I bet you wish you’d spent time mastering your powers instead of playing dress-up. Too bad it’s too late."

Bored of our exchange, Scarecrow yanked his arm against my throat, and in a moment of weakness, I dropped my weapons, my hands scrambling to pry his arm away. My lungs burned as I struggled to breathe.

"Now do you get it?" he shouted across the space to Cordyceps, who stood several meters away, eyes wide with a mix of fear and focus.

"You can’t win against me, weakass. Now leave, and take your little toy with you. The sword stays with me. I’ll come for you both when I’m good and ready."

Cordyceps didn’t hesitate. "And what if I refuse?"

"Then your little pet over here dies," Scarecrow snapped. "And a few minutes later, so do you."

Cordyceps didn’t respond, but his gaze didn’t waver.

"You better think fast, Prez," Scarecrow taunted. "Who knows what I might do if you take too long?"

I couldn’t see Cordyceps, but I could feel the weight of his silent despair. My heart sank as I realized the gravity of our situation. Was this how my tale would end? As a helpless victim, utterly defeated?

I grit my teeth, cursing the fate that had so cruelly abandoned me. But then, like an answer to my desperate prayers, a familiar pulse of red and blue flared before my eyes.

My breath hitched as I glanced at the hovering red directions, a cold sweat trickling down my forehead. The situation was dire, but my foresight had never failed me. If this was the best course of action, then there was only one thing to do.

[Buy time.]

I exhaled slowly, accepting the role fate had handed to me. It was time to act.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 50 - Mizuko Shirogetsu

Hollow Night

I was still formulating my plan of attack when Katoru lunged at me. My shield shot up instinctively. Sailing through the air like a missile, two of his arms collided and made deadly contact, causing me to slide a few yards back.

“COME ON!” He taunted, having pursued my kickback from his blow with a flurry of several more.

His fists drummed on the shield’s surface like rainfall against a window, each impact deepening the crevasse stretching across the makeshift barrier’s surface. My stance was low, head cowering.

In that moment of pure focus, it was as though I could deconstruct each vibration that travelled along the buckler’s slippery surface, denoting the exact moment it crossed the border into the bones of my increasingly weary forearm.

It was one such moment, just as I felt another strike crash against the shield, that I drove my shield-arm against it. At some point, my right arm had coiled by my side and was gripping the longsword with so much force I felt my upper arm tremble.

I only got to see Katoru’s expression for a split second before I ran him through.

His hair had become wispier and thinner, on the verge of emaciation. The flesh from his right cheek up towards the right side of his forehead was sickly pinkish and raised. I wondered if he’d had an accident with fire at some point in his life.

Regardless, I noticed this characteristic in particular because the area had slowly begun to burn with his signature blackish flame once I felt the tip of my blade rip through his lower stomach. It almost distracted from the look on his face. I read the sensation of incredulous pain being conveyed by his eyes.

“Yield,” I said, “Yield, now.”

At the same time Liu was raising his head to look at me, I lowered mine to re-inspect the stab site.

Much to my dismay, it wasn’t his body I had stabbed through, but his two shadowy auxiliary limbs that were now circled around his waist. Their palms were out, slowing the progress of my sword until it attained a full, final halt. The blade’s apex was inches away from drawing Liu’s blood.

I had the strange feeling Katoru had intentionally allowed me to get exactly that close. No closer, but also no further away.

Liu first hammered his fist down my forearm, breaking my contact with my weapon. I watched my arm drop toward the ground uselessly before a hard knuckle crashed against my nose. My vision blurred and I sensed my feet were no longer on the ground. There was a faint whistling noise followed by a splash of pain enveloping my back, having been slammed against some kind of surface.

I opened my eyes and my vision steadied. My nose was throbbing. A few metres below me I could see the street I was just stood on, scorch marks and holes in the tarmac dotted along the surface. Shards of glass and debris belonging to the building I had crashed into drizzled down onto the pavement below.

Liu was in the process of melting my weapons and only then did I realize my hands were once again empty. Plumes of dust and smoke then began to rise from behind me and I coughed. Katoru had disappeared behind them.

Despite fighting a desperate inward battle to keep panic from settling in, I had not lost my faculties of strategic thinking.

Think! I remember pleading to myself. If I were him in this scenario, how would I –

Another whistling noise shot through the derelict avenues, and for a split second I thought I saw something like a bullet launch into the sky. I lowered both my arms in front of me. Soon after, a squall like the aftershock of a titan jumping wafted around the space, but I fought to keep my eyes open.

I heard him before I saw him. Looking up, a bulky black mass was plummeting from directly above me. I gritted my teeth. Katoru was drawling something, but I no longer had interest in what he was saying. He was only a few metres above me when I drove my heels against the wall, causing my body to jerk forwards out of the crater I’d created.

I increased the grip in my hands to an inhumane amount, and in mid-air spun back around to face my origin point, just as Katoru was reaching my previous location.

“Checkmate,” I whispered.

I pulled the icy bludgeon I’d manifested and sent it hurtling into Liu’s downward trajectory. I involuntarily closed my eyes and inwardly winced at the bone-rattling thunk that then swept across the area.

My mid-air trajectory began to slope downwards just as the sheer force of my blow, in addition to his downward momentum, sent Liu careening straight through the building I had just leapt off of, creating several circular, noisy ruptures through the structure until his tumbling mass shot out onto the other side.

I, on the other hand, landed squarely on my feet, though I was in no shape to give chase just yet. In my right hand, all that remained of my hammer beyond its handle were cracked shards of ice. Thanks to the tarmac’s temperature, a wispy stream of water vapour rose upwards, disappearing somewhere beyond my perception.

A smudge of crimson painted the back of my hand after brushing it against my philtrum, and I sighed.

I got back to work after that.

The building appeared to have been some kind of office space – at one point, anyhow.

Columns of desks were laid out with even spacing in rows and columns. Black leather computer chairs were assigned to each one. Each desk had its own separation screen in front, and the desks at either end of each row contained a screen to block out the passageway at the centre of the room. This gave the property an intense quality, as though the work being undergone here required the upmost concentration.

Further down into the distance I noticed a poster that began with the words ‘What is technical data?’ as its header, with various diagrams and illustrations residing underneath.

In the wake of our scuffle, however, dust and debris from the collapse of several walls scattered across the floors, splashes of sandy brown powder staining the once perfectly navy carpets. Loose bricks had smashed through desk surfaces and monitors, leaving wooden shards intermingling with glass fragments as their only remains.

Each step I took through the cavernous breaches summoned a hollow echo that sauntered through the building. I began to feel a poignant sense of aloneness as I reached the other end of the building and moonlight spilled in to illuminate the utter destruction caused.

Katoru was just getting to his feet when I dropped down a few metres away. We had ended up at a side street a few clicks away from AMX.

I remembered the first night here as though it happened years ago, when our situation was still bizarre and outlandish enough to dull the danger, and we were still one contingent. We’d been sent out to several locations to light those lamps, and AMX was the first.

We were told they would ward off Noise and act as safe zones.

Yet, despite our recent travels all across the plane, I had yet to see lamps lighted anywhere but Center Street. Furusawa was the last to have the lighter before he –

A pained, paroxysmal cough interrupted my ruminations, accompanied by a splash of red against the tarmac in front of Liu. He was struggling to his feet, legs shaking and trembling. His extra arms had vanished, and one of his arms hung limp at his side.

“Stop,” I appealed softly, spurred by a sudden twang of guilt. “All this infighting avails us nothing. It’s exactly what they expect from us. ”

He looked up at me then, and I had to bite down the gasp that threatened to escape my lips.

Liu was crying, but not out of sorrow, guilt, regret, or even pain. In the millisecond that his eyes met mine, I knew in my heart that the only reason for his tears was that Katoru wanted me dead in that moment more than anything else in the world – and I had defied him grievously by continuing to live.

Behind us in the direction of the Shibu Department Store complex, the sound of a sudden explosion, like the collapse of a tower, reverberated in the wind and met our ears.

With every second that passed away from my sister, my anxiety grew, but I could not rip my eyes from Liu. Something had changed, and was continuing to change in him even now.

I got the sense that from here onward, I had no allowances for mercy - if I was still interested in seeing the sun rise, that is.

Practically snarling at me, Katoru found a shaky balance as I prepared my armaments.

We had come to a wordless agreement that we’d only stop once one of us had ceased to continue breathing, and I had no choice but to oblige. If I let him go here, he would come after me either in this world or, worse, reality.

He would pose a constant threat to Junko and I, and that could not be allowed to pass.

I had deduced an important aspect of Liu’s EXS ability at that stage, and that was this simple fact: the more anger, or perhaps hatred he harboured, the wilder and mightier his powers became.

However, as he would soon come to learn, the brightest flames leave only ashes.

This time I would be the one to engage. I was needed elsewhere, and time was absolutely of the essence.

In response to my closing of the gap between us, Liu remained stationary but once again summoned two auxiliary arms to aid him in combat, only this time, their appearance had changed.

The limbs had grown markedly thinner, but longer and sharper like the legs of a spider. Solid wisps of black smoke rose from their sharp tips, and I could feel them practically begging to shred through my flesh.

Still, with a new resolve, I continued to close the distance. As I got closer, I become aware that Katoru was standing unevenly, one knee bent awkwardly whilst the other was buckling at just the effort of standing.

Similarly, his right elbow was pointing at his one o’clock and still dangling limp by his side.

I took note of these observations as I began my final assault.

Once I’d reached a few paces away from Liu, I reached into my haori and gripped onto several of the throwing knives I’d fashioned earlier. Three in each hand, I flung them toward my quarry and watched in satisfaction as they circled around him.

With movement not an option, Katoru was forced to remain stationary and defend against the onslaught. With the precise thrusts, sweeping motions, and shielding of his black appendages, seemingly all of the projectiles had either been deflected on to the ground, or sunk and vaporized out of the dark fires of the limbs.

Alas, I was directly front of him by the time he’d finished.

I hit him two, three, four times across his torso, my makeshift knuckledusters rattling against his bone with a sub-zero impact. I ended my combination with a step back, guiding my right shin into Liu’s stomach after reinforcing it with a thick verglas shin guard.

Katoru stumbled backwards, drooling small rivulets of red essence as one of his new arms lunged at me. I weaved to the left quickly enough to escape with a scratch to my left cheek, that stung with a searing heat so painful I made a commitment to keep my distance from then onwards.

Unfortunately, I had not been watching the position of the other leg, and noticed it far too late as it was poised to carve directly through my skull. That was when I heard a bloody thunk as a curved flying object found Liu’s back.

The sudden pain and shock had brought my execution to a welcome halt, and I fought the urge to smirk as I leaped back. Unbeknownst to Katoru, my hail of throwing knives was simply a distraction for the true payload – a boomerang hidden amongst them that surreptitiously flew past, circling back just in time to find its mark.

This opening was all I would need to bring the battle to a close, and to that end, I had just the tactic in mind.

In both hands, I formed ice bolas, frosty weights connected by glacial interconnected cords. I pulled my left arm back and released, sending one hurtling toward Liu’s feet.

Gritting his teeth and still reeling from the boomerang affront, he rolled clumsily to his left, which is when I released the other bola in a crescent-like trajectory, still aiming for his feet.

As if in concession, Katoru’s appendages briefly elongated, piercing into the ground before lowering briefly, and then thrusting upwards, lifting Katoru into the air.

Once again, he had moved just as I predicted. Still in mid-air, the slight grimace on his expression had devolved into a distraught scowl now that he was looking in my direction.

With one hand I held the bow straight, and with the other I pulled the string hosting the triplet of spiked ice arrows toward my cheek.

"Let's see you dodge this."

Just as Katoru was approaching the apex of his upwards momentum, I let the arrows soar. Helpless, he attempted to brace himself by raising his one functioning arm, but it was no use. All three arrows had found their mark – one in the bicep of his raised arm, one in the front of his left thigh, and one on the right side of his upper chest. Puddles of red began to pool under his dusty tattered shirt.

A cautious relief was starting to spread over my body as I dropped my longbow, and I exhaled wearily.

It’s finally over, I remember thinking, regrettably failing to notice the fact that Liu’s spider-like arms had not retracted from their ground. In truth, they hadn’t helped him to jump at all. They had only extended and raised him upwards continuously, for even now, Katoru was still suspended in mid-air, the arrows melting into vapour.

These findings had only been made clear to me when two sharp, unbearably burning pointed edges ripped out of the ground and met my right leg and left arm, tearing through them like paper.

I screamed as they did so, and felt their burning surfaces travel in and out of my body like worms burrowing through earth.

Immediately I dropped to my knees just as Katoru fell to the ground, still.

Hearing my own panicked, anguished shouts, the searing pain shot through my body like wildfire, each movement of Liu's flaming appendages having tore deeper into my flesh.

My scream was lost to the night air, but I could not afford to be consumed by the agony at such a crucial junction. My mind raced, and instinct took over.

Ice. I needed ice.

Without hesitation, I focused on the areas where the fiery spikes had pierced me. I forced the ice to flow, encasing the wounds with a layer of crystalline frost. The cold bit into my skin, but it was a welcome relief compared to the blistering heat. The ice hissed as it made contact with the flames, steam rising where the two elements met. I gritted my teeth and pushed harder.

The burning subsided as the ice cooled the wounds, the bleeding slowing to a trickle as the cold constricted the torn blood vessels. I could feel the edges of the icy casings solidifying, forming a protective barrier around the punctures. The pain was still there, throbbing beneath the surface, but it was muted now. Controlled.

As my breathing settled alongside my heart rate, I resolved to finish Liu while he was seemingly knocked out. I would need to get to a location with a vantage point and take him out from afar, to avoid anything like this happening again.

It was when I was solidifying the details of Katoru’s capital punishment that I noticed a flicker of light in of the corner of my eye, like the briefest flashing of a faulty lightbulb. In fact, the gesture was so familiar that I did not even turn my head in its direction – but I could not help but sigh.

She didn’t bother hiding either. With steady, measured steps, she walked out into the silent battlefield and approached until I could practically hear her breathing.

“Have you come to finish the job?” I offered. My eyes were closed.

At this, I could sense her pause. Then, I felt something heavy being lifted up into the air, just over my head. It did not take me very long to surmise exactly what.

“Well,” Hoshino began calmly, “I guess you were right. There might just be a killer in me after all.”

At that, I smiled.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 51 - Junko Shirogetsu

Hollow Night

Action had always been my favourite genre of movie. Even as a child, I had little tolerance for sappy love stories, or feel-good family adventures.

What peaked my interest was conflict.

I recalled the warm weekend afternoons spent sitting cross-legged, mesmerized by the martial splendour of the performers onscreen. Back when my dad – my actual dad – was around, he’d walk into the living room and grin at my wide-eyed enthusiasm.

I always knew when he was home because of his cologne.

Honeyed mandarin. A fragrance so unique and out of the box, you’d be hard pressed to find it sold anywhere, and believe me, I’ve looked.

Even when I thought the excitement playing out in front of me was too good to turn away, just hearing the clunk of the front door opening in partnership with the scent of that orangey aroma, was all the excuse I’d need to get distracted.

Sometimes he would trudge in, mouth stretching and tightening comically as if to make a show of the heavy-looking dull white grocery bags wrung over each of his fingers.

“Hey, Lightning!” He’d cheer in my direction as I watched him from my perch.

He would smile this grand, heroic smile as if to say ‘Life is beautiful, isn’t it?’, and I would wonder how painstakingly he went about his dental care to get teeth like his, white as polished pearls.

After disappearing behind the kitchen corner and depositing the goods, he would stretch his arms while walking toward me. Every so often he would catch me in an ill-tempered mood, likely due to something happening at school or with Mizuko, so I would pretend I couldn’t see his shape moseying up to me out of the corner of my eye and keep my attention fixed on the screen.

Otherwise, I’d run up to meet him halfway. But regardless of my moods, the story always ended the same way. I’d end up nestled against his chest, settled within his strong arms.

The memory felt so distant, like a hit song I’d long forgotten the lyrics to, I questioned if I had even really lived it. I’ll admit it was a strange moment to be thinking about that faraway period of my life.

Looking back, it might’ve been because I had finally gotten the chance to put all those flashy, extravagant manoeuvres I’d picked up from those flicks into action, but definitely not under the circumstances I desired.

A boom like the clap of thunder ripped me from my reverie, and instinctively I performed a quickstep to the right as a powerful gust ripped past my left side, storming further down the upper level walkway.

My heartbeat was making its best attempt at mimicking the rapid pitter-patter of my feet. I couldn’t run forever, I knew that much. But what good was a plan or strategy when I could barely even see my opponent long enough to form one?

That’s generally where my head was at when, in the corner of my eye, I noticed a red rectangle cruising out into my view. It was emerging from a destroyed storefront window, fragments of shattered glass and various kids’ toys laid like a minefield around the object.

Though Zephyr’s attacks were missing their intended target, it seemed they were still leaving these pockets of destruction in their wake – a consequence it would soon pay dearly for.

With a spark of inspiration hugging and lifting my heart, I lowered my stance and held out my hand until the smooth wooden texture of the red skateboard, a black bolt of lightning painted menacingly on its underside, was caught in my vice grip.

At first, I was apprehensive. It had been a few years since I’d last skated, and considering the stakes of the situation at hand, it wouldn’t have been an exaggeration to say my life depended on how quickly I picked the motions back up.

Thankfully, your life being under threat tends to have a way of getting you in the zone.

Like I said, I hadn't stepped on a skateboard in years, but as soon as my foot touched the deck, it felt like reuniting with an old friend.

The weight of the board beneath me, the wheels rolling under my control—it was all so familiar, so natural. If this bozo wanted my life, I wasn’t about to make it easy for it.

With a push, I was off, the board gliding smoothly across the polished tile floor of the mall. Zephyr’s first strike came fast—a sharp discharge of wind aimed right for me—but I kicked off the ground, flipping the board beneath me as I sailed over the crackling gust. I landed with a sharp click of the wheels, feeling myself grinning as I picked up speed.

In the rapidly passing windows’ reflections I saw it lunging again, this time with a wide arc of his arm meant to catch me off guard. I crouched low, letting the board carry me into a grind along the edge of a nearby bench, the metal trucks sparking as they kissed the steel. The grind carried me out of his reach, and I leapt off the end, spinning in mid-air before landing back on the board in a perfect 180.

"You're gonna have to do better than that!" My voice called out, heart racing with exhilaration.

Zephyr made a sound lime a snarl and sent another blast my way, but I kicked the tail of the board, launching myself up to an even higher level of the mall. I grabbed the edge of a balcony with one hand, flipping the board up with the other before dropping back down, catching it under my feet with seamless precision. The blast sailed harmlessly past, slicing at the ground where I’d just been.

It came at me again, its speed increasing, but I was already in motion. I kicked the board into a manual, balancing on just the back wheels as I weaved through the remains of kiosks and overturned tables.

His attacks were relentless, but I danced through them, spinning into a pop-shove-it to dodge a wide sweep, then sliding into a powerslide that sent me careening sideways just in time to avoid another sweeping strike.

The mall was my playground, and the board felt like an extension of myself.

I hit a rail and ollied onto it, grinding down as Zephyr tried to follow, but it was too slow. I flipped off the rail and over a shattered display case, using the momentum to launch myself into the air, tucking my knees as I spun, landing in a perfect kickflip.

Zephyr’s frustration was palpable, its attacks growing wilder, but I was already in its head. I saw it throw a final punch, the air crackling under the sheer force of the blast, but I slid under it, spinning the board in a perfect 360 as I zipped right under it, coming to a stop behind it.

Breathing heavily, I kicked up the board, catching it in one hand as I spun to face it. “Come on,” I said, smirking. “I thought you were supposed to be fast.”

Zephyr spun around, its frustration evident in the way its eyes sparked with fury. It was faster than I’d anticipated, but that didn’t matter—I’d already decided how this was going to end.

I pushed off the ground again, gaining speed as I weaved through the debris. Zephyr followed, closing the distance with another flash of lightning, but I was ready for it.

I skated toward a nearby escalator, its metal handrails gleaming under the mall's fluorescent lights, and with a quick hop, I jumped onto the rail, grinding up the incline with a burst of speed.

As I reached the top, I launched myself off the rail, spinning the board beneath me as I flipped through the air. Zephyr charged at me, his fist pulsing with energy, but this time, I didn’t aim to avoid it.

Instead, I twisted my body mid-air, positioning myself directly above it.

With a quick flick of my ankle, I sent the skateboard rocketing downwards. The board struck Zephyr square in the chest, the force of the impact amplified by my momentum. Its eyes widened in shock as the air was knocked out of it, the flowing energy around its fist flickering out as he staggered backward.

I landed smoothly on my feet, grabbing the board as it bounced off Zephyr and flew back toward me. The moment its guard was down, I spun on my heel and kicked the tail of the board with all the strength I could muster. The impact sent the board crashing into its midsection like a hammer, forcing it back even further.

Zephyr stumbled, struggling to regain its balance, and that’s when I saw my opening.

With a quick pivot, I dashed forward, closing the distance between us. Before he could react, I planted the board against the ground and used it as a springboard, vaulting myself up. My knee collided with its jaw in a sharp, upward strike, sending it reeling back. But before he could go all the way back, I reached behind for my odachi’s handle, finding it and swinging it down viciously against its unsettlingly doughy body.

He hit the ground hard, skidding across the polished floor. I landed a few feet away, my ōdachi sheathed and the board back in my hand as I stood over it, breathing heavily.

It was clutching its side as it tried to push itself up, but I was already moving.

With a final, determined step, I swung the board down like a hammer, aiming straight for its chest. The impact reverberated through the mall, and Zephyr let out a pained gasp as he collapsed back onto the ground, defeated.

I flipped the surprisingly intact board one last time, catching it under my arm as I looked down at it. “I see now,” I said, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me. “You never stood a chance at beating me to begin with.”

I’d had my fun – it was time to seal the deal. Dropping the board on the floor, I reached for my ōdachi and stationed it over Zephyr’s rapidly heaving torso.

Then the ground began to move, as though it were the first rumblings of an earthquake. Trashed benches, overturned cylindrical bins and other pieces of debris dispersed around the area began to judder. Drizzles of brown dust rained down steadily as the fluorescent lights continued to scintillate.

“Arthur…” I found myself muttering, my chest aching with concern. I looked up upward in the direction I had fled from, and only now noticed I was on the complete other side of the shopping centre now.

“Hang on, I’m on my – “

My promises were interrupted by a sudden force slamming me against a far wall, face-first, much to the displeasure of my nose. Still reeling from the pain, I peeled myself from the wall and slowly turned around.

Zephyr was now levitating as before, only its shape was noticeably more battle-damaged and worn than previous. There was a hollow gash across its torso from where I slashed it, both its arms were shaking with exertion, and its head was tilted forward droopily as if on the verge of passing out.

Its breath, if it was even accurate to call it that, was ragged, each inhale coming in short laboured bursts. For a moment, it looked like he might finally stay down, its energy spent. But then something in the air changed—a subtle, eerie shift that sent a shiver down my spine.

The lights above us flickered again, and the faintest breeze began to stir, swirling the debris on the ground in lazy circles. I took a step back and felt the wall barricading me in, my instincts screaming that something was wrong.

The breeze was growing stronger, the air thickening with static as small objects—shards of glass, loose papers, bits of metal—began to rise from the ground, circling slowly around Zephyr.

Its body began to glow with a faint, greenish light, the static energy crackling around it as its power grew. The debris circling it sped up, forming a miniature cyclone that whipped around its figure, lifting it higher off the ground. My hair whipped around my face, and I could feel the pull of the vortex tugging at me, the sheer force of it unlike anything I’d felt before.

The wind reached a fever pitch, the cyclone around him expanding, pulling in everything within its reach. I gripped my ōdachi tighter, my mind racing as I tried to figure out how to counter this.

But before I could make a move, the cyclone exploded outward, filling the entire arena with a swirling, chaotic tempest that lifted everything off the ground.

I planted my feet, struggling to stay upright as the wind threatened to tear me off my feet. Zephyr’s figure was barely visible now, hidden within the eye of the storm, but I could still see the faint, ominous glow of his power intensifying.

This was it. Its final, desperate move. And if I didn’t act fast with a last-ditch effort of my own, then I’d be seeing Arthur – and my dad - again a lot sooner than I’d bargained for.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 52 - Arthur Cunningham

Hollow Night

The sunlight dappled through the canopy of leaves, casting gentle patterns on the path ahead.

I could hear the soft crunch of gravel under our feet as we walked through the familiar park in Kent, the scent of freshly cut grass mingling with the faint aroma of blooming flowers.

My hand was warm, securely clasped in my mother’s as we strolled side by side, her soft hums blending with the chorus of birdsong that filled the air.

It was one of those rare days when everything seemed perfect, the world holding its breath in a moment of serenity. My heart was swelling with a simple, unspoken love. I glanced up at her. Her smile was radiant, her eyes bright with the kind of joy that made me believe, if only for a moment, that everything was right in our world.

"How are you feeling today, love?" she asked, her voice tender, a tone that wrapped around my heart like a protective blanket.

"I'm good, Mum," I replied, trying to sound as cheerful as possible. And for once, I almost believed it.

We reached the small pond in the center of the park, where the ducks paddled lazily, their ripples disturbing the still surface of the water. My mother knelt down beside me, producing a bag of breadcrumbs from her pocket. We tossed them into the water, watching as the ducks eagerly swam over, quacking in delight.

But then, as I threw another handful, the ripples on the pond didn’t settle. They spread wider, faster, the surface of the water distorting, and with it, the world around me.

The birdsong turned dissonant, their chirps stretching into a jarring, haunting melody that grated against my ears. I looked up at my mother, only to find her smile had vanished, replaced by a look of quiet despair.

"I’m sorry, Arthur," she whispered, her voice cracking, "I’m so sorry."

The park around us began to twist and blur, the vibrant greens and blues bleeding into a sickly, greyish hue. My mother’s hand slipped from mine, and I reached out, desperate to hold onto her, but my fingers grasped at empty air. I blinked, and suddenly I was standing alone in the middle of the park, the trees gnarled and twisted, their branches clawing at the sky. The pond had turned into a murky, black pool, its surface bubbling ominously.

And then I heard it—a whisper, soft but insistent, carried on the breeze. "A burden... a weight... dragging everyone down..." The voice was everywhere and nowhere, seeping into my thoughts like poison.

"No," I murmured, shaking my head, but the voice persisted, growing louder, more accusatory.

"Your father’s gone because of you. Your mother’s life, wasted on keeping you alive. Every breath you take is another chain around her neck, another step closer to the grave."

I spun around, trying to find the source of the voice, but the park had transformed into a twisted maze of shadows and echoes. My legs felt heavy, my chest tight, the familiar ache of illness gnawing at my insides. And there, in the midst of it all, I saw her—my mother, standing on the edge of the pond, her back to me.

"Mum!" I cried, but she didn’t turn. She just stood there, staring into the abyss, her shoulders slumped in defeat.

The voice continued, relentless, each word a dagger to my heart. "She can’t keep doing this, Arthur. You’re killing her, just like you killed your father."

"No!" I shouted, but my voice was swallowed by the darkness closing in around me. My feet were rooted to the spot, the weight of the accusations pulling me down, down into the earth, suffocating me.

My mother turned to me, finally, her face pale and gaunt, eyes hollow with exhaustion. "I love you, Arthur," she said, her voice barely more than a breath, "but I’m so, so tired."

The ground beneath me cracked open, and I fell, plummeting into the void, the echoes of her voice chasing me into the depths. "You’re a burden... a curse... a dead weight..."

And then, with a jolt, the illusion shattered.

I gasped, the breath ripped from my lungs as the searing pain in my side yanked me back to reality.

The park, my mother, the twisted shadows—all gone, replaced by the cold, harsh reality of the battle. I was back in the Shibu department store, sprawled on the tiled floor, the metallic taste of blood in my mouth.

My vision swam, but I could just make out the silhouette of a lizard-like form looming over me, the tip of its bladed tail gleaming with a deadly light.

The illusion had been just that—a cruel trick of the mind. But the pain in my body, the sting of the wound—it was real. And so were the tears it had dredged up, the doubts it had forced me to confront.

"Arthur...?" a voice called out, distant but familiar, cutting through the fog in my mind.

I blinked, struggling to focus, to fight off the lingering tendrils of the illusion that clung to my thoughts.

But I couldn’t let it end like this—not here, not now. For my mother, for everyone who had fought to keep me alive... I had to get up.

I had to keep fighting.

Despite every breath I took hammering my stomach with agony, I rose to a shaky standing position, blotches of red clinging to my tattered shirt. My frame was too small, hands too smooth to be of any effect – it seemed that in my stupor I’d released my werewolf form, and I was struggling to trigger it once more.

As if understanding my begrudging powerlessness, the shadowy, curvy form of my attacker prowled in a circle around me, glowing flaxen eyes never once leaving mine.

My faculties of vision had returned to the point where I was able to see what exactly had been obscuring my vision all this time – a mustard yellow haze that swathed the department store like some kind of miasma.

It had to have been the same gas that Junko and I had narrowly escaped, only this time, I hadn’t been so fortunate.

I didn’t understand. I thought I had hit Ironclad’s weak spot. In fact, I was sure I had pierced and destroyed that yellow, wart-like hump stationed at the nape of its neck. That sickening sensation of liquid puss dripping down my claws isn’t easily forgotten.

So who – or what – was this creature that was now skulking behind the miasma, watching and waiting?

The pain was making it unbearably bothersome to even stand, let alone reason, but instinctively I knew the next time I fell down would be the last. I had to move.

With sharp and rushed breaths, I strained each of my muscles into action, shuffling along with agonizing movements. An acute sense of magnetism was attracting me, pulling me to where I’d last seen Ironclad, hunched over and disintegrating. I felt that whatever I discovered there would decide my fate.

As I was beckoned closer by this strange gravitational pull, I almost didn’t notice the shadows flourishing in the distant corners of my vision. A cough swept through my chest, bringing with it a torrent of viscous red rivulets and searing pain against my stomach. I stumbled, but managed to hold onto my balance for dear life and continued down my path.

At first, the pitter-patters of my hunter were quiet and subdued, surreptitious as a whisper in the night. Had I not been accustomed to straining my ears for the tiniest of sounds, I likely wouldn’t even have heard its feet leave the ground.

The next few moments were a blur. Before I could deny my instincts, I was thrown onto the floor by my own reflexes, crashing against the scattered tiles with a hard thud.

Almost simultaneously, the glossy reptilian outline of my pursuer sailed overhead. At some point, perhaps even before I’d hit the ground, my right arm had shot into the space above and spawned long, pearly white claws whose whetted edges sliced through the lizard’s underside like a knife to butter as it passed over me.

Its shrill screams burst out against my eardrums, and only increased in intensity as it vanished into the darkness. I could hear the impact of its limbs skittering against the floor in shocked agony.

I launched back up to my feet and hastened my hobbling once I’d noticed the gas was getting thicker. It couldn’t have been a coincidence. This creature had to be the source of the strange fume wafting about the place, and now that its life was in danger, it was upping the intensity, perhaps even unconsciously.

My goal remained the same either way, only now I had less time than ever.

Driving through the steadily rising pain, exhaustion, and fear assaulting my senses in a joint attempt to resign me to my fate, I was rewarded with a faint, white pulse in the distance. It was still a few metres off, and I had no way of knowing what lay beyond it, but my heart cooled with the smallest splashes of relief.

“Arthur…?”

I froze. Suddenly, I was back in that hellish world of my own mind’s machination. The gentle kiss of the sunlight, the caress of the wind, the rustle of autumn leaves – my mother’s virescent jewels staring lovingly into me.

I watched her cerulean sundress whip recklessly against the growing gust, paralyzed by the serenity of the scene before me, as though I’d woken up from a bad dream.

She stepped forward. I remained still. She continued to close the gap until I should have been able to feel her breath brush against my skin, but there was nothing. Unease crept into my chest, intensifying my own laboured breathing.

“Shhh…”

As if sensing my distress, she lowered her forehead against mine, never once breaking eye contact, with a smile so soft and caring that I almost missed what she said next.

“Just lay down and die for me, okay honey…?”

And for a moment, I almost did.

A large gasp then erupted from my body, as though I was desperately resurfacing above water, and the illusion of my mother once again faded away.

Only this time, it was replaced by the open jaw of a hungry beast.

Far too fatigued and disoriented to avoid it in time, the creature’s jaw clamped like a vice against my right shoulder, evoking an involuntary shout of pain.

In response, I managed to morph my left hand into a thick, clawed paw, digging it into the monster’s spine and tossing it back into the darkness, watching as rivers of my blood trailed its fangs as it departed.

The anguish at this point was too great for even words to describe. I plummeted down on one knee, unable to find the strength to carry on. As I did so, distorted images and voices assaulted my senses on all fronts, each carrying the exact same message.

These visions only grew increasingly more visceral, and it was only then that I’d made the connection between the gas and these ghoulish apparitions. I was never dreaming to begin with. This miasma had to have been the source of these mirages from the very start.

I stifled a mirthless chuckle, supposing it was ironic, in the end, that my death would be caused by the belief that I could ever truly be loved at all.

An odd sense of peace washed over me then, and the area became strangely quiet. It was as though I’d finally stopped running away from something that had been pursuing me for years.

My head hung in acquiescence. I was drowning in my own thoughts, far too lost in the sea of contorted faces and voices, to recognize the series of steady thuds approaching from the far distance.

Once I’d realized that they were footsteps, I slowly raised my head to find a slender, silhouetted figure looming over me. Even through the miasma, their posture and cadence exhibited a grace that I couldn’t possibly misplace.

“I thought I told you,” They began, crouching down to match my level. Their voice was unlike the others – it was smooth and soothing, carrying an unmistakable quality of coherence.

In fact, now that I had heard their voice for the first time, it was like I was peering straight through the shadows cast by their hood and into their eyes, seeing them for who they really were - who they had been all this time.

“Death is no fun unless you’ve seen its beauty.”

Before I could respond, a blazing white light beamed between us and wrapped me in its warm embrace.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 53 - Daisuke Kurogane

Hollow Night

I’ll admit, I was starting to get impatient. I had his partner dead to rights, demonstrated that these two didn’t stand a rat’s chance in hell of beating me if I got serious – and yet, there he was, turning up his nose at me. Like he always fucking has.

“I warned you,” I spat, and I felt the redhead struggling more than ever against my forearm now that I’d seemingly run out of lenience. “Say goodbye, dickhead.”

I pulled my forearm down on the redhead’s neck hard, hard enough that I could feel the throbbing of her neck against my wrist. My eyes never left Rusuban as I slowly brought the kama’s razor-sharp edges mere millimetres from the underside of his partner’s chin.

Okay.

All I had to do was sink it in and let it rip. Easy as slicing a cake.

So simple. I just had to push a little harder, let the blade carve its way into her throat. I could already imagine the warm spray of blood, the gurgled scream she'd make—Rusuban would break. He’d have to. He'd finally see me, not as some reject, but as the goddamn nightmare I am. The monster he’s been too stuck up his own ass to acknowledge.

And yet, my arm… it wouldn’t move.

I gritted my teeth, trying to force my hand, my entire body, to obey. I could feel the cold steel of the kama pressing against Kozuki’s skin, my fingers tensed to drive it deeper—but it was like some invisible force held me back, chaining me to the moment, keeping me from crossing that final line.

What the hell was this?

I tried again, applying pressure. Nothing. My arm trembled slightly, and the frustration bubbled up, hot and bitter in my throat. My mind screamed to finish it, to end her, to show them what despair really looked like. This should’ve been easy, just another casualty in a world that had never given a damn about me. Why couldn’t I—

Do it!

But the blade stayed hovering, so close to tearing through her flesh, yet something—something I couldn’t explain—kept me from following through.

I felt a knot tighten in my chest, like a chokehold squeezing the life out of me instead of her. My grip slackened just a fraction. Her breath, ragged and strained, grazed my skin, and I hated how aware I was of it. Hated the way my own breath felt heavier, like I was suffocating instead of her.

Why the hell was this happening? I wanted to see the fear in Rusuban’s eyes, wanted to hear him beg. I wanted to hear the life drain out of her.

But I couldn’t.

I clenched my jaw so tight I thought I’d break my teeth. I wanted to scream. This was supposed to be easy!

"Say goodbye," I growled again, but even I could hear the falter in my voice. My own words, meant to sound menacing, hung limp in the air. There was no conviction in them.

I was trembling now, the kama’s blade still poised but unmoving. It was infuriating, maddening. This was my moment to make him suffer, to make her pay for just existing, for everything that’s wrong. So why… why couldn’t I do it?

The voice inside me, the one that always screamed at me to make them hurt, was suddenly... quiet. And in its place, all I could feel was the weight of the blade, the tension in my arm, and the shallow, desperate gasps from Miharu beneath me.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. My fingers were losing their grip, and not just on the blade.

“…please.”

In the middle of my damn near breakdown, the words erupted like a squeak. I looked down to meet her pleading eyes, wet streamlets trailing down her cheeks. Had they always been that round?

“He’s holding me against my will,” She whimpered after I’d foolishly loosened my grip without even noticing. “I have no choice but to obey him, or he’ll…he’ll kill me.”

Shit. This is what I got for hesitating. But I wasn’t going to buy into it that easily.

Firstly, she seemed pretty eager to have a go at me a few moments ago, when she wasn’t on the brink of death. Even if she couldn’t risk giving away too much in front of her ‘captor’, you can tell a lot about a person by the way they fight – and she was giving me everything she had, I’ll tell you that much.

Not to mention I'm pretty sure the two of them were 'Partners' in respect to game. If Kozuki bit it, so would Rusuban - unless he had some way of circumventing that fact.

Anyway, like we’ve already established, Rusuban was weak as shit. I wasn’t even sure what his powers were. I hadn’t stuck around long enough to see.

But this is Rusuban of all people – whatever it was, it had to be the most pansy power of all time. Definitely something to do with getting others, like the pretty redhead here, to do all his dirty work for him. He doesn’t know any other way of living.

I levelled my gaze back at the coward in question, only to find he wasn’t even watching. Rather, I noticed his eyes calmly darting back and forth across the underpass, like he was expecting something.

…Or someone.

My heart then practically took a nosedive when, In the bottom corner of my eye there was a brief flash of red, followed by a steady blue. I glanced back down to the illumination’s origin, Kozuki, and almost missed the eerie shift in her expression.

“Farewell,” she offered finally with a grin so satisfied that I had to blink twice. A sudden hiss filled the air, sharp and violent like a boiling kettle about to explode. Before I had time to process it, a rush of some kind of searing mist surged out from underneath us.

"Shit!" I jerked back, releasing Kozuki as my arms instinctively shielded my eyes. The heat was unbearable, like it was trying to peel the skin right off my fucking bones.

I staggered backward, disoriented, the world around me turning into a blinding, white haze. I could barely make out the redhead slipping from my grasp, a silhouette lost in the cloud of burning vapor.

The hiss grew louder, surrounding me, trapping me in this thick, suffocating fog. Sweat rolled down my face in heavy beads, mixing with the stinging sensation on my skin. My vision was blurring, the edges all softening into some kind of shapeless haze. I could just about hear my own labored breaths, shallow and panicked, as I stumbled like a drunk old man through the smoke.

My hand found my kama and started slashing at the air, trying to clear it, trying to find some sign of where the other two had gone. But it was like the steam was everywhere at once, pressing in from all sides, and with every step I took I was sinking deeper into a trap I hadn’t even seen coming.

“Come on!” I snarled, my voice barely cutting through the dense cloud. "Is this how you fight?! Hiding in smoke?!"

But there was no response. Just the relentless hissing of the steam and my own heart pounding in my ears.

I spun around, eyes darting in every direction, but I couldn’t see a damn thing. I could feel my frustration bubbling up again, choking me, just like the heat. I wanted to lash out at something, anything, but there was nothing but this suffocating, smouldering mist.

And then, just as quickly as it had appeared, the steam began to thin.

The air cleared, slowly, revealing the world in these fragmented, shifting glimpses. My feet stopped moving as the shapes around me started to take form—tall, dark, hunched figures, one after another, creeping out from the smoke.

My stomach twisted as I realized what I was looking at.

Noise.

A hell of a lot of them.

I backed up instinctively, my heart racing. The twisted forms of the Noise seemed to come from everywhere, their ugly-ass bodies flickering in and out of the lingering fog. I tightened my grip on my kama, trying to calculate just how many of them were surrounding me. Too many. Way too many.

My pulse quickened, but I wasn’t about to show any fear. Not now. Not in front of them.

Through the dissipating steam, I caught sight of Kozuki and Rusuban, standing just beyond the gang of creatures, their faces shadowed, watching me. The redhead’s face had changed from the scared shitless hostage I held just moments ago. She looked almost... collected. Calm, even. The glint of some kind of silver steam pack glinted on her back, but it was her eyes that unsettled me—cold, calculating.

I spat onto the ground, ignoring the searing pain still buzzing across my skin. "You think this changes anything?" I growled, glaring at the two of them, though I could feel the weight of the Noise closing in around me.

Neither of them said a word. They didn’t have to. The small army that now surrounded me said it all.

They’d planned this.

I flicked the kama in my hand, keeping my gaze locked on them, but the weight of the situation was settling heavy in my gut. I was surrounded. They had me dead to rights now.

And judging by the ominous silence from Miharu and Rusuban as they watched me from the edge of the arena, they knew it too.

The moment I realized just how many of them there were, my mind screamed for me to run. But I was cornered. Trapped in this circle of nightmare figures with Miharu and Rusuban watching from beyond like damn puppeteers pulling the strings.

The faint smile playing on Rusuban's lips was infuriating. I’d tear it off his smug face, but I had to get through this swarm first.

The closest Noise lunged at me, claws slashing toward my throat. I sidestepped just in time, swinging my kama with all the force I could muster.

The blade sank into its neck, thick black ooze spraying out as it fell. But for every one I cut down, two more seemed to slither out of the darkness, gnashing their jaws, closing in.

"Out of my fucking way!" I snarled, darting left and slashing downward, cutting a Noise in half at the torso. The swarm didn't relent. I swung wildly, taking them down in bursts, but they came faster and faster, overwhelming me.

This wasn’t a fight—it was a desperate scramble. My eyes shot over to my audience, still standing calmly on the far side, almost taunting me with their lack of concern.

I needed to get to them. I needed an opening.

I spun on my heel, looking for an escape route, and that’s when the realization hit me: these things weren’t just blindly attacking. Their movements were...too focused, too coordinated.

As I ducked under a pair of slashing claws, my eyes caught something. A flicker, subtle but unmistakable.

Green.

The Noise’s eyes—every single one of them—were glowing a soft, unnatural green.

My heart clenched in my chest.

Fucking Rusuban.

I had to think fast. I might not be able to brute-force my way through all of them, but there was something else. Something new. I let a twisted grin creep across my face.

These bastards wanted to play mind games?

They had no idea who they were dealing with.

I backed up, raising both hands. The air crackled, a cold sweat breaking out on my skin as I tapped into that darkness inside me. My power. I didn’t need eye contact anymore. That was the beauty of it. I could project fear anywhere, infect anything within my reach.

A thick, oppressive wave radiated out from me, seeping into the air around us like a growing storm cloud. The swarm of Noise faltered, their glowing green eyes flickering for a split second before their movements became... sluggish. Hesitant.

I could feel it. The fear setting in. Not just for one or two of them—all of them. Their minds were mine now.

They saw what I wanted them to see: visions of their worst nightmares. A full-blown frenzy overtook them and they started turning on one another, shrieking and clawing at their own flesh, ripping into their fellow Noise like they’d been trapped in a maze of horrors.

I didn’t stop. The illusions grew stronger, warping reality around us. The entire underpass shifted under my command. Shadows stretched and warped, and for a moment it felt like the very air was suffocating with terror. I could hear their distorted cries—cries of confusion, agony.

And they were delicious.

I slashed through another Noise, then another, creating a path through the chaos. My legs were screaming, but I was getting closer. Closer to the redhead. Closer to him.

Rusuban’s face twisted slightly as I closed the distance. Finally, that cocky grin of his was starting to slip.

"That's right, bastard. Your pets aren’t going to save you," I growled through gritted teeth, breaking through the last of the crowd. Only a few more meters. I could see Miharu’s eyes widen slightly in surprise. I was almost there. Almost—

Thwack!

Out of nowhere, something heavy smashed into my ribs. My breath caught in my throat as pain exploded through my side, sending me sprawling to the ground. I wheezed, barely able to process what had hit me. I forced myself to look up.

Rusuban was lowering his arm, a strange, twisted smirk pulling at his lips.

"You really think I’d let you reach us?" His voice was soft, mocking. "You always overestimate yourself, Daisuke."

The green light in the Noise's eyes pulsed, and I realized in horror that they weren’t just his minions—they were an extension of him. He wasn’t watching the fight. He was the fight.

Before I could react, several of the creatures I'd thought I’d bested rose back to their feet, their movements now more purposeful, more driven. Rusuban’s influence tightened, guiding them like marionettes. They descended on me, faster than I could get up.

I fought back, slashing, kicking, anything to get free—but it wasn’t enough. Claws grabbed my arms, pinning me to the ground. My legs buckled as I struggled to breathe. The Noise piled on top of me, forcing me down, overwhelming me with sheer numbers.

I barely had time to scream before the weight of them crushed me to the cold floor, and the world went dark.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 54 - Eiji Hoshino

Hollow Night

In, hold, count to four, out. Come on. I can do this.

Mizuko suddenly looked up at me now, her cool blue eyes bereft of any kind of fear. If I didn’t know any better, I would think she was enjoying this.

“Still, If I go, so does Reaper,” She reminded, as if I hadn’t been ruminating over all of this a million times already. “Wouldn’t you rather be rid of Katoru and Kurogane?”

Her stare snapped briefly to a point behind me, and I had to fight hard to resist following her gaze. In situations like these, even the oldest tricks in the book can prove effective.

But after a few tense moments, I judged it was safe to take my eyes off of her, at least for now. I’d seen what Katoru’d done to her – even with the makeshift first aid she’d given herself, Mizuko wouldn’t be leaping into somersaults anytime soon.

Taking a deep breath, I turned around and I scanned the scene, my stomach knotting. The tarmac beneath our feet was ripped open, jagged cracks running like veins through the concrete. Some parts had caved in entirely, leaving deep craters, still steaming from the sheer amount of energy – EXS - unleashed.

Buildings that once towered over us in their silent oppression were just crumbling shells now. Windows were shattered, and glass littered the streets like stars fallen from the sky, glittering coldly under the dim light of the Night’s moon.

The lampposts, which used to line the street in neat, familiar rows, now looked bent and twisted, like metal skeletons trying to crawl out of the wreckage.

My unsettled gaze landed on the remains of a storefront nearby. The sign was charred and hanging by a thread, the walls splintered like something massive had crashed through them. There were deep gouges in the pavement, marks where ice had spread, frozen solid in some places, shattered in others. In a way, it was a testament to Mizuko’s power, but also to whatever the hell she’d had to fight to be pushed this far.

As if answering my thoughts, twin plumes of dark smoke rose up from further down the avenue. From where I was, I could just about make out his trademark threadbare shirt, as well as the newly placed splotches of red growing underneath. To think that just yesterday we’d all been fighting alongside each other, and now...

This wasn’t just mindless destruction, or collateral damage—it was a warning. A stark reminder of what could happen if we kept clashing like this, unchecked.

The Hollow Night had a way of making you feel insignificant, like the world itself was indifferent to the chaos unfolding within it. You could lose everything here, and the Hollow would swallow it without so much as a whisper.

I knew that feeling all too well already.

This wasn’t just some back-alley scuffle. This was war—silent, unspoken, and fought in the shadows of a world that didn’t even know it existed.

And that realization hit harder than any blow. Because if fights like this continued… there wouldn’t be much of the Hollow Night left standing.

I shifted my gaze back to Mizuko, knelt over and still eying me. Her ice had melted away in places, leaving damp patches on the cracked street, but the chill lingered in the air, biting at my skin.

“No,” The words left my mouth automatically, in response to her question. “I’m not here for either of you, really.”

Her eyebrows shot up, and, instantly, any semblance of amusement vanished from her face. I swallowed hard, tightening my grip on my hammer.

I needed to pick my next words very carefully.

“Mizuko,” I began with as much resolve as I could muster, “I need to know where your sister and Cunningham are.”

The moment the names left my mouth, something changed in Mizuko. Her eyes, which had been calculating and sharp, darkened with a dangerous edge. Her lips curled back in a silent snarl, and I saw her fists clench so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

“You…” she hissed, barely above a whisper. “You’re after them.”

I blinked, momentarily thrown off. “Wait, no, that’s not what I—”

But she wasn’t listening. In an instant, the air around her seemed to drop another ten degrees. The chill that had lingered before now transformed into an icy storm, swirling around her like a vengeful spirit. I could feel the cold biting into my skin, clawing its way into my bones. The cracks in the pavement beneath her feet glistened, frost creeping out from the damp patches left behind by her earlier attacks.

“I won’t let you touch them!” she screamed, her voice breaking as sharp splinters of ice surged toward me, jagged spikes forming in midair like frozen spears.

Instinct took over. I dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the barrage as it shattered against the ground where I’d been standing. I could feel shards of ice scrape past my arm, leaving shallow cuts, but I didn’t have time to focus on that. I rolled back to my feet, heart pounding, and swung my hammer up defensively.

“Mizuko, stop!” I shouted, my voice lost in the howling storm of her fury. She was already launching another attack, this one even more desperate, a blinding wall of sharp crystalline daggers. They shot toward me in a wild arc, her emotions reigning.

I didn’t want to hurt her. This wasn’t what I’d come for. But she wasn’t giving me a choice.

I gritted my teeth and swung my hammer. The force of the strike collided with her ice attack, shattering it into glistening dust that scattered through the air. For a moment, I thought she would relent, but when I looked up, she was still preparing another attack, reckless and furious.

I couldn't risk it. I reacted on pure reflex.

My hammer swung down, heavier than I’d meant, and I connected with her shoulder. The force sent her sprawling backward, crashing against the ground with a pained gasp.

I froze.

I hadn't meant to hit her that hard.

But before I could take another breath, I heard footsteps—rushed, urgent, closing in fast. I barely had time to turn when Nakamura came charging in from the alley, his eyes wide with rage.

“Hoshino!” he shouted, his voice full of accusation. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Nakamura, wait—”

But he wasn’t listening, either. His gaze flickered to Mizuko, lying on the ground and clutching her shoulder, and then back to me. And in that moment, I could see the decision solidify in his mind.

“You’re trying to kill her!” His gauntlets curled into tight fists, fury radiating off him. “I knew it! You’re no different from the rest of them!”

“No, I’m not! This isn’t what it looks like!” I tried to explain, stepping back as his body pulsed with an orange surge, but I could see the mistrust in his eyes.

It was too late.

Before I could say another word, he lunged.

Nakamura’s gauntlet-clad fists sparked with kinetic energy as he flew past me, his muscles twitching, ready to explode into motion. His eyes, wild with anger, stayed locked on me.

“You think you can take her down just like that?” Nakamura barked, his voice raw with emotion. “I won’t let you!”

Before I could speak, he span around on his feet shockingly quickly and lunged once again. It was like watching a coiled spring release. He moved faster than I anticipated, his trench coat flaring behind him like an orange banner as he closed the distance.

I barely managed to dodge to the side as his right fist, glowing with some kind of charge, whistled past my face.

His momentum carried him forward, but instead of stumbling, he spun on his heel with grace, building up more speed as his gauntlets sparked violently. He was like a whirlwind of power, every step, every move feeding his growing energy.

I had no time to waste.

With a quick burst of light, I launched myself backward, my hammer spinning in my grip. “Nakamura, listen to me! This isn’t what it looks like—”

“I’m done listening!” he roared, charging again, this time even faster. His fists collided with the pavement where I stood seconds before, shattering the ground. Dust and debris flew into the air as his body whipped around, his movements getting faster, stronger, more precise. Each blow hit harder, and I could’ve sworn his momentum – or maybe his kinetic energy - was compounding with every missed strike.

Realising that I needed to stay ahead, I shifted into my light form, my body shimmering and becoming intangible just as Nakamura’s fist shot past me. I could feel the air ripple with the force of his punch. If that had connected, they would’ve had to scrape me off the walls.

I floated backward, reforming into my tangible state just a few feet away, but Nakamura was already rushing me again. His body was a blur, the gauntlets glowing bright orange from the stored kinetic energy, crackling with raw power.

He wasn’t thinking. Like Mizuko, he was just attacking, overwhelmed by emotion.

And that’s what I had to exploit.

“Stop running!” he growled, and this time he didn’t miss. His left gauntlet grazed my side, sending a jolt of force through my body. I gritted my teeth as the blow sent me skidding across the cracked street, my shoulder slamming into the wall of a nearby building.

Pain bloomed in my ribs. He was getting stronger, faster. But you can’t throw haymakers with force like that behind them without burning through your energy reserves with every hit.

“I’m not running, Nakamura,” I said, slowly getting to my feet. I gripped the handle of my hammer tight, feeling the prismatic core hum as it stored up the energy from each of his missed attacks.

“I’m just waiting for you to run out of gas.”

His eyes narrowed, but I could see the frustration boiling beneath his scowl.

“Shut up!” he yelled, launching forward again, his fists moving faster than I could follow. He was a blur of punches and kicks, each one more powerful than the last. Every step he took cracked the earth beneath him, and I was forced to stay on the defensive, ducking and dodging as best I could.

But I was thinking.

With each step he took, he was feeding me more and more information about how his power worked. I could see how his movements built up his kinetic charge, the way his speed and strength increased exponentially the longer he kept moving. But I could also see the strain it was putting on him. His muscles were twitching unnaturally, his breathing getting heavier. And his strikes, though powerful, were becoming more erratic, less controlled.

“Keep going, Godzilla,” I muttered under my breath. “Just a little longer.”

He was close now, charging at me with everything he had. His gauntlets were glowing white-hot from the energy build-up, sparks flying as he wound up for a massive punch.

And then—he swung.

But I was ready.

In one fluid motion, I shifted into my light form just before his fist could make contact. He stumbled, his momentum carrying him forward as his punch missed completely.

Now!

I reformed behind him, my hammer glowing bright with stored energy. In one swift motion, I swung the handle up, releasing a concentrated blast of light straight into his back. The impact was immediate—his body jerked forward, and he crashed into the ground, skidding across the broken pavement.

But it wasn’t over. He was already struggling to get back to his feet, his gauntlets flickering with the last vestiges of stored kinetic energy. His movements were slower now, less precise. He was reaching his limit.

“Nakamura,” I called out, my voice firm. “You’re running on fumes. Stop this.”

“Shut up,” he spat, staggering to his feet. His body was trembling, his gauntlets sparking weakly. He was still trying to charge me, but his movements were sluggish, his legs barely keeping him upright.

I sighed, gripping my hammer tightly. “You’re not giving me a choice.”

Before he could react, I dashed forward, closing the distance between us in a flash of light. With one powerful swing, I brought the hammer down, not on Nakamura, but on the ground in front of him. The prismatic core released a pulse of kinetic energy, and the shockwave sent him flying backward, his body crashing into the side of a nearby building.

He groaned, trying to stand, but his body gave out, the strain from overusing his power finally catching up to him. He collapsed onto the ground, his gauntlets flickering off, the energy completely spent.

I stood over him, breathing heavily, my hammer resting against the cracked pavement.

“You’re strong, Nakamura,” I said quietly, watching as he struggled to move. “But strength alone won’t win every fight. Not here. You have to think.”

For a moment, there was only the sound of his labored breathing, and then—finally—he went still.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 55 - Junko Shirogetsu

Hollow Night

The wind. It tore through everything—the walls, the ground, even my skin. The kind of force that made breathing feel like drowning.

A whole shopping mall turned into a tornado’s playground, and I was smack in the middle of it.

Zephyr was beyond desperate now, spinning into a frenzy, whipping up this typhoon to keep me off it. Destruction everywhere, and the only thing keeping me grounded was my board and the crackling charge beneath my skin.

Electricity hummed through my body, tracing sharp paths along my arms and legs, crackling off my weapon and into the storm like a live wire. I could feel it sizzling in the air around me, merging with the typhoon’s wild winds, making the hairs on my arms stand on end.

But Zephyr wasn’t just strong—it was smart. It wasn’t planning to let me get anywhere close unless I came up with something.

The brute force approach wasn’t working; it was using the storm to keep me out of range, letting the wind do the heavy lifting while it conserved its energy.

And me? I was running on scraps.

There has to be a way, I thought, gripping the hilt of my Odachi tightly. The sword was practically buzzing with the electrical charge I’d poured into it, silvered edges glowing with crackling sparks that leaped from the blade like lightning bolts.

Think, Junko. Come on. You’ve handled worse, right?

A sharp gust nearly knocked my board out of my grasp, and I stumbled, barely catching myself before slamming into a support pillar. I winced, pain shooting through my side as I hit the ground and rolled back to my feet. The storm wasn’t letting up—it was building. Zephyr was turning this place into a full-on hurricane.

But as I struggled back onto my board, something caught my eye.

Amid the swirling mess, I could make out the outline of Zephyr’s body, flickering in and out of the storm. There was something off about the way it moved. The winds were whipping around it, but there—right in the center—it was still, like it wasn’t inside the storm. It was the storm.

That’s it, I realized, eyes narrowing. It’s not just controlling the storm. It’s being forced to hide inside it.

The winds were Zephyr’s cover, but they also seemed to be its body—a defense mechanism that made it impossible to hit. But I had something Zephyr didn’t: electricity. If wind was intangible, electricity wasn’t. And if I could reach the storm’s core, I could disrupt its very flow. It was like a circuit, and I had the power to overload it.

I crouched low, breathing through the sting of the wind cutting my face, and focused. I let my EXS surge, electricity flooding through my limbs, lighting up the edges of my body like a neon sign. The Odachi crackled to life in my grip, silver and blue sparks dancing up and down its long blade. I wasn’t going to fight the storm anymore.

I was going to conduct it.

I pushed off hard, skating through the gale-force winds as the charge from my sword sent electricity shooting through the air. The wind screamed around me, but I could feel the current—the raw power Zephyr had summoned. And now, I was moving with it, not against it.

Zephyr screeched, its winds becoming more erratic, the storm surging as it realized what I was doing. It tried to throw me off, whipping up debris and tossing furniture in my path, but I was already there, electricity arcing off me and blasting through the air. I dodged, weaving through the chaos like a live wire. I could feel the storm bending around me, the winds tingling with the charge in the air.

The storm screamed, but I was faster.

Alright, Zephyr. Let’s see how you like this.

I launched myself into the air, flipping my board mid-jump, my eyes locked on the flickering center of the storm. My power surged, electricity crackling through the air like a bolt of lightning. I wasn’t just reacting anymore—I was part of the storm. The faster I moved, the more the electricity built up, the hum of raw power filling my veins.

And there—at the heart of the chaos—I saw Zephyr’s form. Flickering, distorted, but solid. For the first time, I could feel it.

This is it! I thought, gritting my teeth as I raised the Odachi high above my head. My whole body was charged, every muscle tingling with energy. I could feel the power surging through me, crackling at the edges of my skin.

I twisted mid-air, bringing the blade down hard, lightning arcing off it like a thunderclap. The moment my sword made contact with Zephyr’s form, the electricity exploded outward, an intense burst of power surging through the storm.

Zephyr shrieked, not just in rage—but in pain.

The storm collapsed, winds exploding outward in a massive shockwave as Zephyr’s body crumbled. I hit the ground hard, skidding across the shattered floor, but I was already pushing myself up, eyes scanning the wreckage.

The winds had died down, the debris settling. Zephyr was gone, with only a milky white sphere traipsing up and down in its memory.

I took a deep breath, soon interrupted by a fit of heaving coughs erupting from my chest. The air crackling faintly around me as the last remnants of electricity dissipated from my body. My body and blade were still humming with the charge, but I could feel the exhaustion creeping in. That last strike had taken everything I had.

But I wasn’t quite out of the woods yet.

In the distance, I heard a rumbling noise, but not from where I’d previously left Arthur. This time, it came from lower down, almost level with the ground floor of the mall where I was currently stood.

My eyes darted to the far end of the shattered mall and I sighed, picking up the white orb my defeated rival had left behind.

No rest for the beautiful, as they say.

I really didn’t like that sound.

It was heavy, rumbling, but too deliberate to be just another piece of debris falling from the mall’s wreckage. Something else was happening, and it wasn’t Arthur.

For a split second, I thought about ignoring it. I wasn’t really in the mood to deal with some random disaster, not after I’d just sent Zephyr packing. But something gnawed at the back of my mind, something nagging.

I glanced back toward the floor where Arthur was fighting.

"He’ll be fine," I muttered to myself. Arthur could handle whatever mess he’d gotten into—he always did. And if not, he would find a way. Right now, there was something closer, something that felt… personal. I couldn’t shake the feeling pulling me toward the noise.

With a deep breath, I shifted my odachi over my shoulder and started toward the sound. The air still crackled with the remnants of Zephyr’s typhoon, the aftermath of the storm strewn across the mall in broken glass, bent metal, and toppled store displays. I had to navigate around the wreckage, hopping over broken escalators and collapsed walls, but my gut kept leading me forward.

As I stepped outside the mall’s shattered entrance, the Hollow Night greeted me with its eerie calm. That strange mixture of darkness and twilight stretching out in every direction. No time to get distracted, though. I kept moving, scaling the crumbling structure of the mall’s outer wall with ease, my legs still buzzing with the leftover charge from the fight – and the exhilarating sensation that the power-up I’d absorbed had unlocked something new within me.

When I rounded the corner, I finally saw what had made that rumble.

I stopped short, my breath catching in my throat.

On the ground, laid out cold like discarded dolls, were Mizuko and Ryota.

“What the...?”

My pulse quickened. Mizuko, with parts of her body wrapped in ice-slick armor that cracked in places, steam still rising from the patches of ice that hadn’t melted away. And Nakamura... his stupid orange trench coat torn, gauntlets scorched. Both of them unmoving, and neither of them looked like they were getting up anytime soon.

And standing over them, hammer in hand, was Hoshino.

My stomach twisted, a chill creeping up my spine despite the fact that my EXS still buzzed under my skin.

"What the hell just happened here?" My voice felt smaller than I wanted it to be. There was this sinking feeling in my gut, a sick sort of dread, especially seeing Mizuko like that—vulnerable, hurt.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen her look so... human.

Hoshino jumped and span toward me, her expression surprised but still sharp—like she might’ve been expecting me.

"You," I hissed, stepping forward, a surge of electricity sparking around my blade.

The second I moved, my mind started racing. I knew Hoshino. She wasn’t the kind of person to just attack without reason. But Mizuko? Nakamura? Both of them down, and only her standing? My heart pounded in my chest, the electricity sparking across my blade growing wilder with every breath. She’d hurt them. She’d hurt Mizuko.

I could feel the anger bubbling up inside me, the heat mixing with the leftover adrenaline from the fight with Zephyr. Everything in me screamed to charge, to go after Hoshino and make her pay for what she did.

"Junko, don’t." Hoshino’s voice was calm, way too calm for the storm that was brewing inside me. If anything, she looked relieved to see me. "This isn’t what it looks like."

I narrowed my eyes. “Then explain it to me. Why the hell is my sister on the ground?”

I wanted to trust her—Hoshino had always been one for logical, level-headed reasoning.

But standing here, with Mizuko laid out like that, and Ryota... I couldn’t stop the anger bubbling up inside me.

Hoshino sighed, lowering the hammer just a little. “I wasn’t out to hurt anybody, okay? There was a misunderstanding – she thought I was after you and Arthur - so she attacked me first, and then—”

I cut her off.

"Bullshit! You expect me to believe that? What, and Ryota just tripped and fell too?"

My hand tightened on the hilt of my Odachi, and sparks crackled up the silvered blade. I could feel the charge building in my body, faster now, angrier. The electric energy coursing through me wanted out, wanted to strike.

The charge crackled through me, lighting up my fingertips. I didn’t care what she had to say. She wasn’t getting another shot at Mizuko. Not if I could help it.

Just as I readied myself to launch forward, a sharp laugh pierced the air—a laugh that didn’t belong to either of us.

Both Hoshino and I froze.

The temperature in the Hollow Night plummeted, the very air itself growing tense, as if something malignant was seeping in from the shadows.

"Should we give you two a minute to sort this out, or..?"

The voice was feminine, laced with venom and amusement, and it echoed from nowhere in particular. I blinked, scanning the street. Steadily, a shroud of darkness crept along the edges of my vision—long, flowing tendrils of shadow swirling toward us like a living mist.

At that moment, I heard it—the familiar, distinct click of a sniper locking in.

From above. High up, on a vantage point.

"Shit." My heart sank.

It was the sniper from earlier.

Hoshino must’ve noticed it, too. She whirled her hammer in the air, summoning a glow around us just as a streak of energy—a sniper shot—blazed through the night sky.

The beam of light collided with Hoshino’s surprise makeshift protective barrier in an explosion of sparks, scattering across the ground like shattered glass. Since when could she…? Didn’t matter.

Without another word, Hoshino shifted, moving to Mizuko and Nakamura's side, her brow furrowed. She was tense now. The situation had changed. The air was too still, too quiet.

And then—

BAM!

The street beneath us erupted as tendrils of solid shadow shot from the ground. One coiled around my leg, another struck at Hoshino, and I was yanked sideways as a figure darted from the shadows, twin daggers flashing with lethal intent.

The assassin, its numble figure lithe and curved, moved like liquid darkness, sliding in and out of the environment like it belonged to them.

"I was wondering when I’d get to see one of you kids again,” It purred, her form barely visible as she slashed through the air. “Pity about ‘old Windfall. I’m guessing you took care of him, huh? But, the game’s not over yet."

I barely blocked her strike with my Odachi, the force pushing me back. My mind was in complete disarray. Not only was this Noise talking to us, there was something startlingly humanoid about its sleek body and long, silvery white hair.

"W-Who are you?!” I demanded, the electricity in my body surging forward to meet her shadows.

They laughed again, twirling in a dance of shadows, their daggers igniting with black energy. Its eyes glinted with the thrill of the fight, but before I could counter, another shot rang out.

BZZT! CRACK!

Deadeye’s sniper shot grazed past my shoulder, narrowly missing me, but the heat from it singed my skin.

This was bad. I reckoned I could just about handle whoever this lady-thing was in close quarters—but not with Deadeye up there firing at us from the rooftops.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Hoshino’s body lowering to the ground, her stance becoming more focused. She shimmered faintly with light, the hammer in her grip ready to strike.

"Can’t you see I’m trying to protect them?" Hoshino muttered through gritted teeth.

I glared at her, the shadows closing in on both of us, tendrils creeping toward Mizuko and Nakamura’s unconscious bodies.

"And what, you expect me to trust you?" I growled back, dodging another swipe from a dagger. "You think I’m just gonna let you walk away?"

"Trust me or not, we’re both screwed if we don’t take them down first,” Hoshino snapped, smashing her hammer against the ground. A burst of radiant light shot from the prism core, scattering the shadows for a moment. “Now stop talking and move.”

The sniper fired again, the shot tearing through the air as I dodged and spun to avoid it, my thoughts racing. For once, Hoshino was right.

I clenched my teeth, glancing at her with a fire of determination in my eyes.

“Fine,” I muttered, sparking my blade to life once more, “But if you even think about double-crossing me, it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”

Her lips curled into a smirk. “Whatever. Let’s just focus on surviving.”

And with that, the shadows lunged at us again, but this time I - we - were ready.

With Hoshino at my side, and perhaps the two deadliest Noise left to take down, we had to make this work.

Whether I liked it or not.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 56 - Arthur Cunningham

Hollow Night

A feeling I could only describe as a burning sensation seized me upon waking. The sharp slice of agony that had infiltrated my stomach, that had clawed up through my ribs and besieged my chest, had disappeared.

All that remained in its place was the inkling that I was different. In some fundamental yet invisible, intangible way, the canvas that depicted my spiritual makeup had been altered. Ameliorated. There was a flicker, deep inside, that hadn’t been there before.

A warmth now lingered – that blinding light I’d seen before blacking out, burning like embers under my skin. The strangest part wasn’t the heat itself, but how right it felt. Like it belonged solely to me. I imagined this was how Daisuke and Rusuban felt after absorbing those strange white spheres.

It was undoubtedly something raw, something primal.

I blinked and clenched my fist, watching as the air around my knuckles shimmered and sparked, a faint glow licking the tips of my fingers. I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined it or not, but then it happened again—a brief, barely-there flame. The heat crawled up my veins, coiling beneath my skin, waiting.

I didn’t understand it fully, but I had no intention of questioning such a gift handed to me in the jaws of death.

Death.

My mind flashed back to the hooded figure, their voice as clear as the fire inside me.

"Death is no fun unless you've seen its beauty."

I couldn’t believe I hadn’t realized it sooner. But why go to such lengths to hide their identity?

I took a breath and pushed myself up, my mind in two worlds. My limbs felt heavier, but stronger.

Scanning my surroundings, I re-acquainted myself with the collapsed walls and crumbled ceiling of the ruined department store looming around me like the carcass of some forgotten beast.

Dust swirled in the dim light, the debris-strewn floor still thick with that unnatural miasma. The entire place felt like a half-formed nightmare, caught between reality and something darker.

But the oppressive weight that had gnawed at me before was gone. The fear—the uncertainty—was replaced by a quiet, smouldering confidence. Something in me had changed, and I could feel the fire still simmering in my blood, a steady pulse of power waiting to be unleashed.

I took a step forward, the crunch of broken glass and shattered tile echoing in the silence, and stopped in my tracks.

My hunter was still here.

I could feel its presence like a whisper on the back of my neck, slipping between the shadows. Watching. Stalking me from the darkness, waiting for another opening, another chance to strike.

For a brief moment, a flash of movement even caught my eye—a figure darting between the toppled shelves, barely more than a shadow in the fog. I tracked the movement, knowing what it was doing; trying to stay hidden, still playing the same old tricks.

For the last few moments, I had still been questioning the sudden disappearance of Ironclad, under the assumption that it and this lizard-like creature were one in the same.

Only now could I see where I had gone wrong. Only now, did I see that I truly did fell Ironclad with that strike. What hadn’t crossed my mind was that, perhaps, Ironclad was never one entity only.

Rather, it was being worn as a shell, as a second skin, a suit of armour. The "Ironclad" I'd been fighting was a Noise worn as a set of armour, a decoy for another, until I’d hit the core – and inside, this “Mirage” had been hiding, waiting for the second its compatriot was shattered, to strike against me.

I took a sharp breath, and there was another flicker—closer this time. The faintest movement in the mist, Mirage slipping between the shattered remains of mannequins and display racks, now a predator that didn’t realize its prey had grown teeth.

I narrowed my eyes and took a step toward the movement.

The mist parted for a second—just long enough for me to catch the briefest glimpse of it. Mirage was darting between broken shelves, their form flickering as they moved. But it wasn’t enough. They couldn’t hide anymore, not from me.

I let the fire surge.

In one swift motion, I raised my fist, and the flames roared to life, igniting my clenched hand with a searing flame. With a swipe at the air, a crescent-shaped wave of heat shot out, streaking toward the shadowy figure in the mist. The fire cut through the miasma, burning away the fog and revealing Mirage in the open.

I could practically see their dagger-like eyes widen, just for a second, as the flames seared past them.

It had underestimated me - a mistake it would never get the chance to correct.

The heat in my veins surged, roaring louder than the chaos around me. The flames licking at my claws were eager, hungering for release, for a target to tear through.

And there it was—slithering through the shadows like a wisp of smoke, its bladed tail gleaming in the faint light.

I snarled, my muscles tensing, my height from the ground skyrocketing as the raw power of the transformation vibrated under my skin. My breath steamed in the cold air, mixing with the remnants of the creature's yellow mist. It thought it could outwit me, outmanoeuvre me like before, slipping into the fog, making me second-guess every step.

No longer.

I felt the primal fire surging inside me, an untameable force that burned brighter than anything else. The mist? It was laughable now, barely a nuisance. My senses cut through it like the sizzling heat in my claws. I could smell the creature’s sweat, feel its fear.

It darted left, vanishing behind a fallen display rack, but I was already there. In an instant, my claws sliced through the metal frame, sending sparks into the air. The thing hissed and recoiled, slashing its tail at me with deadly precision, but I caught it mid-swing, my flaming fist closing around the bladed appendage.

It writhed, twisting its body to break free, but I held firm, the heat from my grip scorching its scales. The creature released a guttural shriek, and I could see the panic in its glowing eyes.

"Not so fast," I growled, yanking it forward and slamming it into the ground.

The impact sent tremors through the cracked floor, shattering what remained of the tiles. It hissed, a cloud of that yellow mist spilling from its maw, enveloping me in a thick haze.

But this time, I didn’t hesitate.

I plunged my claws through the fog, feeling the searing heat ripple outward. The mist sizzled, and I heard the creature dart away, desperate. Fine. Let it run.

I took a breath, the flames dancing across my skin, and felt my body settle into a rhythm—an instinctual pulse of the hunt. It was trying to lead me into another illusion, to disorient me, but I could see through the trick now. My eyes caught the faint shimmer in the mist, the subtle bending of light as it moved between pillars and overturned shelves.

The creature dashed behind a half-collapsed column, thinking itself safe. I didn’t even need to look.

I leapt high into the air, flames trailing behind me as I came down with a crushing blow, my claws carving through the stone and scattering debris in every direction. I heard it cry out, its thin, brittle legs scrambling to escape the rubble. It was quick, I would allow it that, but I could feel the fear radiating off it like a stench.

I bared my fangs, a low growl escaping my throat. It had become a game.

I launched myself at the creature again, my claws glowing red-hot, the fire burning deep into the marrow of my bones. I could see the panic in its movements now—the erratic swipes of its tail, the wild lunges that missed by miles. Every time it tried to vanish into the mist, I was already there, ripping through the illusion before it even had a chance to form.

It slashed at me, claws aimed for my throat, but I caught its wrist in mid-air, squeezing until what felt like bones cracked under the pressure. The flames spread from my grip, scorching the creature’s arm as it shrieked in agony.

“Is this it?” I snarled, tossing it aside like it was nothing. “All that sneaking around, all those tricks—this is what you’ve got?”

It scrambled to its feet, desperate now, tail whipping through the air like a frenzied whip. But I wasn’t interested in playing anymore. The thrill of the hunt had already faded.

I took a step forward, and the heat beneath my skin flared, a firestorm roaring to life. The creature's bladed tail slashed toward me one last time, but I didn’t bother dodging. I raised my hand, letting the flame engulf my arm, and grabbed the tail mid-strike. The flames shot up its length, engulfing the creature in a wave of red-orange light.

It thrashed wildly, screeching as the fire consumed it, its shadowy form flickering like a dying flame. I tightened my grip, dragging it toward me until it was eye level.

“No more games,” I said, my voice a low growl.

With one final, searing burst of fire, I clenched my fist and felt the creature’s body disintegrate in my grasp, its form dissolving into ash and smoke as a familiar snowy sphere bounced on the floor. The yellow mist evaporated around me, leaving only the smell of scorched earth and molten metal.

I stood there, breathing heavily, the flames simmering down. My body felt heavier now, the adrenaline wearing off, but the sense of power—of control—still lingered. The primal fire inside me was still there, crackling just beneath the surface, waiting for the next time I called upon it.

But for now, the fight was over.

The burning heat of victory still lingered in my veins as I stared at the small orb left behind in the ashes of the creature’s demise. Its glow pulsed faintly, like a dying ember waiting for the right breath to reignite it.

For a moment, I felt the pull of it, the whisper of power that it promised. Another surge of strength to carry me through the chaos.

I crouched down, reaching for it, my fingers hovering just over the surface. It would be so easy to take it, to absorb the orb just like the one I had before. But this time… I hesitated.

I clenched my fist, pulling my hand back. No. There was someone else who might need it more than I did. Junko. If she was hurt, this could help her.

The thought of her, bloodied and weakened, pushed the idea of taking the orb out of my mind. I stood, pocketing it instead.

My gaze shifted upward to the massive hole in the ceiling, the place where Ironclad had torn through the building like a falling meteor. Light streamed through, casting jagged beams down into the ruined department store, illuminating the destruction we’d left behind. It was my only way out.

I took a deep breath, feeling the primal energy simmering just beneath my skin. My muscles tensed, and with a powerful leap, I launched myself upward, landing with a quiet thud on the floor of what had to be a half-destroyed perfume shop, if the soft scent if strawberries and vanilla were any indication.

The flames still whispered inside me, urging me to go faster, push harder, but I kept them at bay, using my werewolf agility to navigate the collapsed architecture instead.

I weaved through the broken beams and shattered glass, my claws digging into the metal framework for stability as I swung to another ledge. The weight of my body felt lighter now, as if my new abilities had sharpened everything—my movements, my reflexes, even my balance. Every leap felt effortless, every swing natural, instinctual.

In moments, I had cleared the debris and found myself outside. The mall parking lot sprawled out beneath me, littered with the remains of destroyed cars and cracked asphalt.

I paused, inhaling deeply. The air was thick with the Hollow Night’s unnatural pressure, but beneath it, I could sense something else. The hum of EXS, pulsing faintly in the distance.

I closed my eyes, letting the scents and energies wash over me. There—just beyond the parking lot—I could feel a cluster of familiar signatures. Eiji, Junko, Mizuko, and a fresh, dynamic splash of warm hues. It must have been Nakamura. In the background, lay a dark mixture of furious black splotches – it must’ve been Katoru. They were fighting, and there were two other strong concentrations of EXS nearby, one of which felt particularly unique.

Unfamiliar, and yet structurally identical to all of ours.

I furrowed my brow, focusing on that strange energy. It was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. Powerful. Precise.

Whatever—or whoever—it was, they were unlike anything I had encountered thus far. The sheer strength of that EXS sent a ripple of unease through me, but also curiosity.

I’d never felt anything like it before, and from the way it pulsed, I was unsure if the others would be able to handle it alone.

I was about to leap in their direction, to help them, when something else hit me—another scent, dark and sinister, lurking in the opposite direction. I froze, my muscles tensing instinctively.

This one was different. A sinister smudge of EXS, thick and oppressive, drowning out everything around it. There were others nearby—I recognized Miharu and Daisuke’s signatures, faint but there. But they were overshadowed by something… darker. Stronger. Familiar, in the worst possible way.

In my mind, there could have only been one person capable of an essence that disquieting.

A growl rumbled in my chest, my claws digging into the ground. The idea of confronting him again sent a jolt of anger and dread through me. But… if that really was him, Miharu and Daisuke could be in serious danger.

I stood at the crossroads, my mind racing. I could feel the heat of the flames stirring again, eager for a fight, for the hunt. Eiji and the others were already locked in combat, and I wasn’t sure how long they could hold out against that unknown force. But on the other side, Miharu and Daisuke could have been facing something even more dangerous.

I cursed under my breath, my hands tightening into fists. Two battles. Two choices. Either way, people I cared about were in danger. But I couldn’t be in two places at once.

The wind howled through the broken mall behind me, its icy fingers cutting through the air, sharp and bitter. Carried within it was the unmistakable scent of blood and conflict—two battlefields, both equally desperate. Junko, Eiji, Mizuko… I could smell them, feel their presence burning through the distance like beacons. They were locked in their fight, pushing themselves to the limit. Every second mattered.

But then there was the other place.

It was subtle at first, that pull. The dark, smothering weight of it crawled across my senses, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Rusuban was one thing, but before long I noticed that Daisuke’s presence was slowly becoming unrecognizable. His aura, once laden with equal parts determination and pain, had twisted into something volatile, dangerous. His EXS surged—so violent and warped and uncontrolled it felt like I was staring into a void.

A black hole ready to consume everything around it.

I tried to focus on it, tried to separate his presence from the two-toned swirl of madness that Rusuban was emanating. They both bled into the same space—two dark auras, both vicious and suffocating. One, a spiralling pit of menace I could already imagine grinning in its vile amusement, and yet elsewhere, quietly rising in the periphery, there was something else entirely. The lines between them blurred, but the more time that passed, the more rampant this rising felt. The worse it felt.

It was as if the air itself recoiled, twisting and pulling in the wrong direction. Whatever was happening in that other location, it wasn’t just a struggle anymore—it was a storm about to break loose, a raw and terrifying force. The energy felt as though it was splintering, exploding into something monstrous, alien. And I had the gnawing sense that once it started, there’d be no turning back.

My throat tightened. My gut told me something horrible was about to emerge from that place. Something none of us might have been ready for.

A slight tremor ran through the earth beneath my feet, a rumble of EXS clashing against EXS in the distance. It was hard not to run toward Junko and Eiji—everything inside me screamed to help them, to protect them.

But that presence, that suffocating darkness clawing its way across the Hollow Night, pulled me in, deeper and deeper into its black maw. Whatever was happening over there, it wasn’t natural. It wasn’t right – and I just might’ve been the only person able to see it.

I knew what I had to do.

I turned on my heel, my muscles tensing as I launched myself toward that crushing aura, tearing through the night as fast as my body would allow. The decision weighed on me, but my instincts couldn’t shake the feeling that if I didn’t get there in time, the person I once called my friend would be lost to something none of us could stop.

I had allowed Rusuban to sway her heart and corrupt her ideals. I had stood by and watched on that rooftop as another innocent soul was claimed by the whim of a madman.

And now, it was my responsibility to see her out of it.

I could only hope I wasn’t already too late.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 57 - Ryota Nakamura

Hollow Night

“Keep your stance low. Shift your weight. Don’t let me see you screw this up.”

Kazuya’s voice wasn’t how it used to be.

Where it used to be all calm and encouraging, now it was just this sharp bark, like he was about two seconds away from snapping. I sucked it up, keeping my mouth shut, trying not to roll my eyes as I squared up.

Back in the day, training with him used to be kinda fun. Now? It was more like a chore—something I had to get through without pissing him off.

Ever since she died, everything had gone to hell.

I shifted my stance, putting my weight forward like he drilled into me, arms up in a half-assed guard. Kazuya, though? He wasn’t having it. I could see that scowl on his face a mile away. Didn’t even let me throw a punch before he was already on me—fist smacking mine away like it was nothing, then shoving me in the chest so hard I nearly face-planted in the dirt.

I stumbled back, barely catching myself, hands on my ribs. It didn’t hurt that much—he wasn’t even trying to mess me up—but it stung in all the other ways. Why was he being such a prick? My throat tightened as I looked at him, standing there like some kinda drill sergeant, all stiff and pissed off.

What happened to the brother who’d actually, I dunno, cared?

The one who used to give me pointers without making me feel like garbage?

But that was before. Before everything fell apart.

“Do it again,” he growled, taking another step toward me, his face hard like stone. “And quit screwing around.”

I threw a jab—if you could even call it that—more out of habit than anything else. Just trying to get it over with. Didn’t even see it coming when he smacked my hand away and shoved me again, harder this time. My feet slid out from under me, and I went down, scraping my knee on the ground.

I gasped for breath, more from shock than pain. What the hell is wrong with him? I wanted to yell at him. To ask why he was like this now—why he wasn’t the same guy I used to look up to. But my tongue was tied, words choking me before they could come out.

Kaz towered over me, eyes blazing.

“You think the world’s gonna take it easy on you, Ryota? You think the bad guys’ll stop just ’cause you’re scared to hit back?”

I swallowed hard, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice. “Nii-san... what’s going on with you? Why are you—”

“Why am I what?” His voice cracked like a whip, and his eyes—man, they weren’t the same eyes I remembered. They were cold, angry, like he was looking at someone else.

“Why am I teaching you how to survive? ‘Cause if you don’t learn, you’re gonna get chewed up and spit out by the world, just like she did.”

I flinched, his words hitting like a gut punch. Just mentioning her was enough to make me feel like her memory hung in the air between us, like a ghost. Kazuya’s fist tightened, his knuckles white as he leaned in close, his breath hot on my face.

“You wanna stay alive, Ryota? Then quit screwing around and learn how to fight.”

I wanted to yell, to push him away, tell him he wasn’t my enemy. But nothing came out. My fists clenched, knuckles burning with frustration, but no words. Just silence. He turned his back and walking away like he couldn’t even stand to look at me.

“Go ahead, stay soft if you want,” he muttered, voice barely above a growl. “But if you can’t handle this, you sure as hell won’t survive out there.”

I stood there, fists shaking, teeth grinding, staring at the dirt. The weight of everything pressing down on me, heavier than ever. Kazuya’s shadow swallowed me up, and all I could think was...

Why?

Why the hell was he acting like this? What happened to the brother who was supposed to have my back?

The memory faded like smoke, replaced by real sounds. Distant, but clear as day. Metal clashing. Shouts, some frantic, others angry. The kind of stuff you only hear when everything’s going to crap. Blood. I could smell it in the air, mixed with something sharp—like burning rubber.

I blinked my eyes open, the dream melting away as I sat up. The Hollow Night’s glow flickered all around me, real bizarre and unnatural, casting weird shadows over the broken walls. The echoes of a fight were getting louder. Junko’s voice cut through, fierce and desperate, followed by the unmistakable slam of Eiji’s weapon hitting something solid.

My pulse kicked up. They were in trouble. And they weren’t alone.

I could feel it now—the other presences, thick and dark, like fog pressing down on my chest. One of them was... wrong. Cold, deadly, like a predator sizing up its next meal. It made my stomach twist.

Whoever or whatever it was, they weren’t screwing around.

I pushed myself to my feet, muscles tight as I shook off the last of the unconsciousness. I heard a shuffle to my right, and found Mizuko there. She was crouched on one knee, completely still.

It was only once I’d inched closer that I realized how active her eyes were, darting up and down the fight unfolding in front of us like she was producing a play-by-play to an invisible audience in her head.

“Did Hoshino get you too?” she asked way too cooly. She didn’t even send a glance my way. But thanks to that, the memories of what went down before I was knocked out came rushing back like a flood.

“Yeah,” I admitted after a few seconds. “I guess she did.”

Looks like I’d been wrong – if Eiji were really out to kill Mizuko, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. If you could call it that, anyhow. Junko must’ve arrived at some point after, cuz now they were both throwing down with some shadowy figure I was having trouble making out.

Whatever, I couldn’t just stand here. Not when my friends needed me.

“Think you can move?” I asked Mizuko, feeling my energy starting to return. Enough to knock around a few heads, you can be sure of that.

She gave me one hell of a look then, the kind of exasperated side-eye my mom’d give me whenever she caught me sneaking some extra snacks into the grocery cart. The kind of look that let you know that, whatever the heck you just said, it was dumb, and now you look dumb too.

“…sorry.” I offered, realizing just how stupid of a question it was. This was Junko’s older sister for crying out loud. It should’ve gone unsaid that even if she had to fucking hobble, she’d be over there fighting alongside her.

First she almost stabs me in the throat, and now she thought I was a dumbass. As far as impressing Junko’s sister went, I was crashing and burning and she knew it. A hint of a smile played on her lips, like she could read my nervousness, before she set her attention back toward the sounds of clashing steel.

I was thinking of following the action myself, looking for a good time to jump in, just as a stupidly loud crack erupted through the air, like the collapse of some scaffolding. Nah, more like the shot of a sniper –

“LOOK OUT!”

I couldn’t tell if it was the screaming, Mizuko’s wide-eyed shock, or just one too many action movies, but before I knew it I was diving forward, scooping Mizuko in my arms. Something whizzed right above me so sharply that it made my damn spine tingle, and then I met concrete.

When I pushed myself back up, the bright gleam of something on the rooftops above snatched my attention. I’ll be damned – it actually was a sniper.

“Y-You okay?!” I extended a hand but couldn’t afford to look away in her direction. There was no response for a few seconds, and my heart sank like a rock once I started thinking I’d been too late. A firm tug at my right gauntlet set me straight, and a wave of cautious relief swept me over.

“Fine,” she replied in that eerily nonchalant tone I might have to start getting used to. “How did you do…that?”

I shrugged. In all honesty, I hadn’t quite figured out what that sensation was yet – that feeling of having all this energy piling up, like a bomb counting down to explosion.

All I knew was that the more I moved, the more the energy built up, and then I could unleash it all at once, moving so fast I’m snapping from one position to the next, like some kind of fighting game character.

And if this was some kind of video game, you could bet your ass I wasn’t stopping til’ I – we - won.

Akio’d never forgive me otherwise.

"Ryota!"

A familiar voice called out to me. It wasn’t just familiar—no, this was the voice that stuck with me even when I wanted to shut everything out. The one that lingered in my head when the Hollow Night and all its craziness faded to the back. My heartbeat kicked up, like I’d just taken a punch to the gut.

I whipped around toward the sound, and my senses went numb.

Just like that, I couldn’t pry my eyes away from her—the girl who’d somehow gotten tangled up in every thought I had lately. Her hair swayed with each movement, like the world was slowing down just to make sure I didn’t miss a second of it.

Then there were her eyes— these deep pools of ice-blue, locked on me, and yet somehow not quite seeing me. It was like she was looking right through me, and I couldn’t figure out if that made me wanna pull her closer or just shrink into nothing.

Her lips, slightly parted as she called my name, had this natural pout that made my heart twist in all the wrong ways. The way her fingers tightened around her weapon—her whole stance radiating this strength that made me wanna be better, stronger, for her—everything about her felt so far out of reach, but damn if I didn’t keep stretching for it anyway.

Junko Shirogetsu. The girl I didn’t deserve, but the one I just couldn’t stop chasing.

For her, I’d take on the entirety of this Hollow Night if it meant just a second of that icy gaze warming up for me.

Just as I opened my mouth to say something—anything—my moment with her was yanked away, like a needle pulling from a scratchy old record.

“Ryota! Move your ass!”

Junko’s shout ripped through the haze, and I was snapped back to reality with a jolt. The soft light I’d been drowning in flickered out, and all that was left was the chaos of the fight. Steel clashing. Footsteps pounding. That eerie silhouette behind the gleam in the distance still loomed like a bad dream.

“Take Mizuko and run!” she barked, her voice sharp and filled with urgency as she whipped her blade around in an arc to block something—a strike from another shadowy figure maybe, though I couldn’t be sure in all the madness.

Eiji took the opportunity to flank, but whoever they were fighting ducked super low, practically sinking into the floor before taking a few swipes at Hoshino now.

I glanced back at Mizuko, who was already pushing herself to her feet, her calmness a sharp contrast to the storm brewing right in front of us. Her gaze was locked, reading the chaos like it was nothing more than background noise. But even she had to know things were spiralling out of control.

“I... I—” I stammered, wanting to argue, wanting to tell Junko that I could fight too. That I could stay and have her back, like I always wanted to.

But her eyes cut through me like a blade, sharp and full of determination.

“Go, Ryota. Now.”

And just like that, I knew there wasn’t time for whatever it was I wanted to say. No more hesitation. I clenched my fists and nodded, turning to Mizuko, kneeling down and stretching my arms out behind me with enough force to show I wasn’t gonna take no for an answer.

“C’mon,” I muttered, my heart racing. Not from fear, but from the reality that hit me like a truck. This fight? It wasn’t mine. At least not yet. Junko... she needed to finish it without me. And even though that thought ate me alive, I knew better than to stay.

The second I felt Mizuko’s weight shift onto my shoulders, I took off running, heart heavy, mind a mess, and Junko’s voice ringing in my ears.

The streets blurred around me, my legs pounding against the pavement. Mizuko’s weight was nothing compared to the weight of what I was leaving behind. Junko, Hoshino... they'd keep fighting without me.

But as I turned the corner, that gut-wrenching feeling wouldn’t go away. Something was wrong—worse than I could even begin to grasp. My instincts screamed for me to keep running, but another voice—the reckless, dumbass part of me—whispered to check it out.

I didn’t have time to argue with myself, though, because just ahead I spotted a trio of familiar figures backing up—fast. They were practically tripping over themselves as they moved away from something around the corner.

“Arthur!” Mizuko yelled out suddenly, gripping my right shoulder with force. I took it as a command to close the distance.

Arthur, who I remembered was the English transfer in the year above, snapped his head towards me, eyes wide.

“Shirogetsu and… you?! What are you doing?!”

He looked at me like I’d lost my mind, but I wasn’t the only one. Another face, who I’d now recognized as our student council rep, was twisted in terror—something I didn’t think was even possible for someone like him. The spacey redhead I shared a few classes with, Kazuko or something like that, just kept her gaze locked on whatever was behind the corner, her trembling hand half-raised, as if she didn’t even know what to do.

“Both of you need to run,” Arthur barked, voice tight and frantic. “GET AWAY! As far away as you can!”

Run? Again? No. Something was off, way off. They didn’t look like they were running from a fight—they looked like they were running from a nightmare.

“What the hell’s going on?!” I shouted, slowly dropping Mizuko back to her feet. She stayed quiet, but her eyes narrowed toward the same direction as theirs.

“Just go!” Arthur’s voice cracked—like he was barely holding it together. I’d never heard anyone like this. Never seen a genuine look this… scared.

But curiosity—stupid, self-destructive curiosity—got the better of me.

I glanced at Mizuko, but she gave me nothing, as usual. It was like she knew this wasn’t her moment either. My pulse pounded in my ears as I steeled myself and took a few steps toward the corner.

“No! Don't—” Arthur’s warning was cut off by a low, unnatural growl from around the bend. It vibrated through the concrete beneath my feet, crawling up my legs like the sound itself wanted to drag me under.

Every instinct screamed at me to stop, but I didn’t. I couldn’t.

I rounded the corner.

My heart stopped. What stood before me was a grotesque, hulking silhouette twisted beyond recognition. Tendrils of dark energy spilled out from every pore of its body, warping it into something monstrous. Its skin, if you could even call it that , pulsed with malevolent EXS energy, veins bulging and burning like living shadows.

I felt my knees go weak. This wasn’t like anything I’d ever seen before. I thought I was ready to fight. To do good on the task Akio left me.

But then its eyes met mine.

The pure malice that radiated from them hit me like a freight train. I wanted to scream, wanted to run, but I was paralyzed, stuck in place like my body had forgotten how to move.

Arthur staggered beside me, barely able to keep his voice steady.

“Rusuban... what on earth have you done?”

The question hung in the air like a death sentence.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 58 - Kinoko Rusuban

Hollow Night, 28 minutes earlier

Oh, this was far too good to be true. It had to be.

Victory wasn’t just intoxicating—it was divine. I could feel it swelling inside me, threatening to lift me off the very ground, as though the world itself had recognized my rightful place above all.

My vines, once thin and brittle, now surged with renewed vitality, weaving through the cracked concrete like veins of life. Under my command, they breathed existence back into this decaying arena.

Behind me, my underling Noise—the loyal, wretched creatures—staggered to their feet, their bodies slowly reassembling from the battle’s remains. Each twisted figure took a step back, reverently parting as I began my approach. It was as if they, too, acknowledged my undeniable triumph.

Daisuke’s broken form, a grotesque smear of blood and flesh, clung desperately to life beneath me. He crawled across the ground, barely breathing, his body reduced to little more than an insect struggling underfoot. I watched him writhe, his defeat so absolute, so laughably pitiful, that I couldn’t help but let the sound escape.

A ripple of laughter—light and carefree—bubbled out of me, filling the air.

Daisuke’s mangled body was hoisted up, vines coiling and tightening around his limbs, his blood trickling down like a sacrifice offered to the earth. His head dangled toward the ground, arms limp, while his tatty weapon, his lighter, and that intriguing journal, sat beneath him, waiting.

Behind the tome, however, lay some kind of stone with pinkish glow so soft I would’ve mistaken it for some kind of gem.

My rewards, so generously laid at my feet.

My hand shot out, and with the flick of my fingers, two thick vines sprang from the earth, wrapping themselves delicately around the lighter, journal, and that intriguing new item. They slid toward me as though revering their master, stopping just a few paces ahead.

A third vine quietly circled around the ebony chain of Daisuke’s kusarigama, dragging it away into the shadows cast by the overpass ahead – for safekeeping, of course.

Before me, the Noise had split apart, the rabble falling back, creating a path. Each creature lowered its grotesque, malformed body in reverence, bowing as I approached.

If you felt so poetically inclined, I supposed you could say their devotion to me was a mirror of this decrepit world – no, the universe itself slowly bending to my will, perhaps finally recognizing my dominance.

I strolled forward with slow, deliberate steps, savouring the moment, my grin stretching wide. This – this is what power felt like. This was my birthright.

Kozuki shuffled behind me as I approached my quarry, her palpable discomfort growing with every step closer I took.

"Allow me," I said, holding up the back of my palm to silence her, my voice dripping with authority. “I’ll be fine.”

A moment of pause, then a begrudging groan from her lips.

“…As you wish.”

Of course, as I wished. I always got what I wished.

The vines lowered the lighter, journal, and gemstone before me, as though they were offering tribute to a king. I accepted my prizes, taking the lighter and treasure in my left hand, the journal in my right. My vines, my servants, retreated back into the earth, with even the ground swallowing them with the same obedience.

I stood there, basking in the glory of it all. I could feel the night air itself humming with my power. The vines, the creatures, the earth—they all knew.

And soon, so would everyone else.

Some moments later, once I’d finished my interrogation of the record, I snapped my fingers, again arousing my servants to action. With a flick of my index finger, a particularly strong vine found Kurogane’s left cheek, smacking it with such force he began to swing to the right.

If not for misfortune of having known Daisuke for too long a period of time, I may not have picked up on the vitriolic scowl he immediately sent my way, concealed underneath the ruffled black thatches of hair washed over with runnels of viscous red essence.

He was straining to say something. I could just about make it out.

“Fuck…you…”

I sighed.

“Good morning to you too, Daisuke.”

It wasn’t very long until he’d realized that he’d been out for quite some time already, with his weapon, the journal, and the lighter all in my possession. I didn’t miss the panic begin to set in his eyes. I recognized it – the look of a cornered animal, of one who’d just understood their final moments were no longer drawing near, but rather, unforgivingly playing out right in front of them.

I beckoned one of my twisted underlings to my side, and its grotesque form doubled over on the ground, offering its back as my seat. I graciously accepted the offer.

“You…” He began, watching my descent onto my temporary stool. “You..can control them. The Noise…”

“There’s no fooling you, eh old friend?” I replied with a smile.

I then opted to remain silent, allowing the dusty cogs in his traumatized head to whir, realization eventually falling across his features.

“On that first night…the group that ambushed us near Tipsy Tose…the thing that bit me…”

His eyes found mine. It was the first time I’d seen him look at me with more shock than disgust, and in all honesty, I found it rather endearing – like performing a magic trick to a toddler.

“That was all you.”

A wave of silence washed over the underpass, as though being brought in by the cool night breeze, as Daisuke and I dared one another to break eye contact.

Eventually, his gaze settled weakly on something behind me.

“What…what else have you done? Does she know?” There was an undeniable edge to his tone, though I couldn’t quite place it as anger or concern.

I leaned forward, growing slightly tired of his incessant babbling.

“What do you know about this journal?”

As expected, silence.

“I had a feeling you’d do that.” I sighed, and then lifted a few fingers.

Behind Daisuke, a dark shape twitched. A sickening crack shot out from behind him then, and he screamed in equal parts pain and shock, recoiling.

I waited for his whimpers and whines to calm down before trying again.

“…Perhaps you didn’t hear me the first time. I asked you, what do you know about this journal, Daisuke?”

The look he gave me then cemented it. It was like he was looking at me for the first time all over again, realizing just who, or what, I was. That was the exact moment I knew there was no turning back for either me or him from that point onward – not until one of us died.

Fortunately for him, I didn’t plan on keeping him long.

Still reeling from the love tap of my servant, Daisuke began to speak.

…..​

“My, my,” I smiled, offering a lazy clap in his direction. He didn’t look me in the eye. It was easy to deduce that, in this moment, the only person he hated more than me was himself.

It was just as I thought. The journal’s author was one of our predecessors, and the contents delineated the events that occurred in the last ‘Hollow Night’.

Not only that, it corroborates the identity of that Noise from last night, ‘Inja’, as a previous player, as well as revealing the identities of the previous cohort.

There are even mentions of Asahi Yoshida, the soul who originally owned this EXS ability of manipulating plant life.

Indeed, now just hearing or reading his name seems to elicit the same reaction in me as the calling of my own. I imagine I don’t have long left until I…well, no need to go into that for now. There was still plenty of work at hand to be done before that could happen.

Truthfully, the journal only seemed to confirm what Juno had already revealed to me in secret – the truth about our reason for being here. About what the Hollow Night really was.

Yes, there were small pieces that still needed to be fit into place. Why, for example, had Inja remained here as a Noise? Who had been responsible for that, and to what end?

I looked back at Daisuke, who was once again meeting my eye, his self-hatred now only serving to further fuel his vendetta against me.

“…And that’s all you know?” I sought to verify.

To nod would have been too submissive, too agreeable, so Daisuke opted for silence once more. A smirk crept across my face.

It was time to for the two of us to say goodbye.

I leaned in, savouring the thrill of this final moment. Daisuke's broken form dangled helplessly in front of me, suspended in the grasp of my vines, his blood dripping sluggishly onto the shattered ground beneath us. His eyes were dull, the fire I'd seen in him just minutes ago all but extinguished.

Pathetic.

“Well! Let’s not drag this out any longer than we need to, hmm?" I cooed, my voice honeyed with mockery.

"I’ll make this quick, for your sake. Does that sound good?” I paused, tilting my head in feigned consideration, as if I really cared. “Though, before we end this little game, I do have to ask...”

I grinned. The words came to me effortlessly, as they always did when it came to tormenting the weak.

“What’s her name again? Chinami? Sweet little thing, isn’t she?”

Daisuke's body twitched. A faint reaction, but one I caught instantly. Ah, there it was!

The weak spot.

"I had one of my…friends look into her for me. I believe you both went to the same elementary school?” I continued. “I bet you’ve been pining after her for years. Poor little Daisuke. Don’t tell me that’s what’s been driving you this whole time?”

I clicked my tongue in pity, watching as his breathing hitched ever so slightly.

“Fighting so hard just to survive…all for a fantasy. A delusion of a chance with a girl who probably forgot you existed up until a few days ago. Or worse...” My smile twisted, my tone growing darker.

"Maybe she’s just waiting for someone stronger to come along. Someone... well, no need to sugarcoat it. Someone like me."

I circled around him, relishing the way his muscles stiffened at every word. I could almost see the images forming in his mind. The way she’d look at me. The way she’d melt under my charm, just like all the others. Girls like her always did.

“Rusuban…” He growled, as though warning me to back away. The gesture was laced with a danger that only made me want to continue further, if only to see how much it would take to break him.

“It’s a shame she’s used goods, though. Did you see the meatheads she was with that day at Tipsy Tose?” I feigned a thinking pose. “…Ah, wait. Sorry, dumb question. Of course you did. One of them did use you like a punching bag after all. Didn’t that claw machine game even end up broken because of what he did to you?”

No external reaction, but that was exactly the sign I’d been looking for. Looks like I’d finally broken him.

“You know, I’m actually planning to pay her a visit after all this is over. Let her experience what a real man can do – maybe even keep her for myself. It would save her from those losers she was with. I think you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

I leaned down, lifting his chin with the tip of my finger until our eyes met. His eyes, lifeless and hollow, stared back at me.

"Of course you would," I whispered.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. And then, it happened – something so unexpected even I was, momentarily, caught off guard.

A low, gut-wrenching sob escaped Daisuke’s throat. His eyes, no longer empty, began to fill with tears. His entire body trembled, not with anger, but with fear and sadness.

"P-Please," he choked out, his voice trembling, breaking as the tears spilled down his cheeks. "Don't... don't touch her... Please... she doesn’t deserve..."

I blinked, thrown off by the sudden shift. I expected anger—rage, maybe—but not this. The sight of him, hunched over, broken, crying like a child, almost made me pause.

Almost.

“She doesn’t deserve…?” I repeated mockingly, shaking my head in disbelief. “Daisuke, you can barely protect yourself. How exactly do you plan on protecting her?”

His body jerked at my words, and he clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The sobbing quieted, but the shaking didn’t stop.

In fact, it seemed to get worse.

His breath hitched, sharp and erratic, and that’s when I felt it. A shift. A cold, malevolent presence coiling itself around us, tightening.

"Why...?" Daisuke’s voice cracked again, but this time it was different—darker, deeper. "What did I ever do to…? You…all you people do is take from me. “

His tears dripped down, staining the ground, but his voice was gaining strength, turning jagged, scraping at the air like nails on a chalkboard.

“You take…and take… and take and take and take…” He began to babble. I took a single step backwards.

Without warning, a low, guttural sound like a roar tore from Daisuke’s throat, raw and primal, as though something deep within him had snapped. The temperature dropped, and the air around us grew unnaturally still.

I blinked, taken aback. What was—?

“…No more.” Daisuke's voice, ragged with fury, trembled in the air. There was a strange distortion to it, a vibration that I couldn’t place.

Something was wrong. His voice—no, his entire presence—had changed. His breath grew louder, harsher, like a beast struggling to speak through a human throat. His body trembled, muscles flexing unnaturally, veins pulsing beneath his skin. His eyes—those eyes I’d mocked just moments before—now burned with a strange, unnatural light.

“You’ll never… take anything…from anyone… ever again! I’m going to…to…”

Before he could finish, the vines that bound his broken body trembled, quivering under some unseen force. A strange, violent energy pulsed through him, radiating outward in jagged, invisible waves. My Noise skittered backward, an uneasy shuffle passing through their ranks.

“What—?”

A sickening crack echoed through the air. Daisuke’s limbs began to jerk and spasm unnaturally, his head snapping even further up as a blinding surge of EXS exploded outward from him. The vines restraining him snapped like twine.

My heart dropped.

“No...” I muttered, falling several steps back instinctively. “This can’t be...”

Daisuke’s form contorted, shadows seeping from his skin, swirling like a living nightmare around him. His face was hidden now, consumed by the darkness twisting and writhing around his body, warping him into something monstrous.

The sheer weight of his EXS was unbearable—crushing, oppressive. It clawed at my mind, filling every corner of my consciousness with an overwhelming sense of...no.

It couldn’t be.

Despair. It was despair in the truest, rawest form I had ever felt it.

“No... no, no, no!” I stammered, scrambling backward as the vines I’d controlled moments ago shrivelled and died. God, I could feel the life force being drained from them, as if his very presence was devouring everything around him.

I reached into my pocket, my trembling fingers fumbling as I pulled out the cracked pair of multicolour goggles. Inja’s artifact.

“Work, damnit!” I cursed, jamming them over my eyes.

Through the shattered lens, a plethora of data in the form of charts, diagrams, and rapidly recalculating digits scrambled across my vision. I desperately scoured each quickly shifting figure as though they held the answer to the bottomless pit of anxiety expanding in my chest, but in my heart I already knew well what was happening.

Daisuke’s EXS—it wasn’t just swelling. It was skyrocketing, climbing higher and higher until it defied any scale I could comprehend. His body, once mimicking that of his human form, was becoming something far worse.

“…Impossible.” I croaked, backing away as I felt the air grow heavier, as though the gravity around him had intensified tenfold.

My Noise, my only hope, began to die off one by one, their forms crumbling to ash as my time limit with them reached its end. I was losing my numbers. My strength. But what did it matter?

What could possibly be my answer to this?

Before me, Daisuke’s body grew, his skin melting away into pitch-black darkness, limbs elongating, warping, twisting into something inhuman. His skin, once pale and bruised from our battle, dissolved into a writhing mass of pitch-black darkness, like ink bleeding through the fabric of reality itself. The substance dripped from his form in thick, tar-like tendrils, which coiled and writhed like serpents slithering over one another, consuming what remained of his human flesh.

His limbs elongated unnaturally, his bones audibly cracking and shifting beneath the swirling darkness. His arms stretched, becoming grotesque, sinewy appendages ending in claws—long, jagged talons that gleamed with a sickening, glossy sheen.

His torso was swelling and expanded, his once slender frame now a hulking monstrosity, rippling with an unnatural musculature that seemed to pulse with every beat. Grotesquely, his spine gradually arched backward, jutting out from his skin in cruel, sharp ridges, each one lined with spiked protrusions that ran the length of his back.

His face—heavens, his face—was no longer recognizable as anything remotely human.

There was only a swirling, endless void where his flesh had once been.

His mouth stretched grotesquely wide, lips splitting into a jagged grin that was all wrong, revealing rows of jagged teeth that seemed to shimmer as if coated in oil.

And then, there were his eyes. Those dull, broken eyes that had once begged for death now gleamed with an ethereal, unnatural glow—a piercing, burning light that cut through the suffocating darkness around him.

They were not the eyes of a man; they were hollow, vacant, like two beacons of pure despair burning through the night. Looking into them felt like staring into the void itself, as though they held the power to rip the hope straight from your soul.

I stumbled, almost tripping over my own feet as I stared at the creature before me, my chest heaving with panic.

This wasn’t just power. This was terror.

“Wha-?” I rasped, my voice weak, breathing rapid, almost drowned out by the roaring energy pouring from his form.

It didn’t answer. Instead, its monstrous figure turned slowly toward me, its once human face now completely consumed by the shadows, glowing eyes staring straight through me.

I could feel my heart racing, thudding painfully against my chest. Damnit! DAMNIT! This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go!

His form shifted again, and I could see the tendrils of darkness swirling around him like smoke, thickening, growing. Pathetically, the rising anger swelling in my chest was swiftly evicted by a visceral, instinctual fear I had never felt before.

And then, with a low, guttural growl, Daisuke stepped forward.

I froze, paralyzed.

This... This was wrong. This was all wrong. I had beaten him! I had won!

For the first time in as long as I could remember, I felt something clawing at me. Not anger. Not irritation.

It was fear.

“RETREAT!”

A gruff, yet panicked voice cut through the chaos, a sharp command that snapped me out of my frozen state. I snapped around to see Cunningham on all fours, hauling toward us, but I could make out the anguish in his expression, as though he’d much rather be running in the opposite direction.

Still, it was only when I felt a sharp sting spread across my left cheek, causing my vision to shift to the right, that I arose from my stupor.

“AWAKEN!” Kozuki cried, withdrawing her palm. She grabbed my arms with a strength I’d judged her wholly incapable of, and dragged me onto my feet.

“Haste! We taketh our leave!!”

I didn’t need to be told thrice.

With a last panicked glance toward the twisted, monstrous thing that had once been Daisuke, I shook free of Kozuki’s grip and ran.

I didn’t dare look back.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 59 - Eiji Hoshino

Hollow Night, Present

Whatever this thing was, it was on another level entirely. Junko and I’d been fighting at a level we hadn’t even known we were capable of, pushing our abilities as far as they’d go and then some.

It felt like with every barely-dodged stab, elbow, or kick, I was forcibly dredging up new parts of myself, salvaging them from some kind of endless bag of effort. I guess desperation tended to have that effect.

A raucous taunt sauntered from our opponent.

“Come on, girls!” The entity cheered after effortlessly weaving below the heavy swing of my hammer, its hair dancing from the resulting windage. “Don’t tell me that’s all you have?”

An unease was sweeping over me every time this thing talked. Noise weren’t meant to do that. Sure, some of them seemed more self-aware than others, like that Samurai one from last night, but that was as far as the similarities went between us and them. I much preferred it that way.

Emotions only ever served to make things more and more difficult, a truth I’d readily admit - even if it sounded far too much like something my father would say.

A groan of shock escaped from my mouth as I felt an impact slam into my stomach, sending me skidding backwards across the tarmac, just barely hanging onto my balance. My abdomen ached in pain under the cover of my free hand, and I was inwardly pleading for my legs to not give way.

Looking up, Junko had materialized like flash behind the Noise now, as one of its legs was still extended from having just kicked the shit out of me. Junko drew back her ōdachi, which was practically glowing with a blue energetic force.

“Try this on for size!” Junko called as she extended her arms like a catapult and swung, aiming directly for the creature’s neck. The sliver of hope that had graced over my chest dissipated as quickly as it came once I met our assailant’s eyes.

They gleamed a faint violet, as if betraying some kind of unsettling intelligence, but that wasn’t what had set alarm bells off in my head. No, it was the smug, almost imperceptible smirk that was playing out on its thin lips.

Not moving an inch, the creature’s one standing leg was suddenly dragged into the ground, as if it had just sank into the tarmac, like it’d done many times already since our fight started. Junko’s blade careened through the instantly empty space with reckless abandon, and that moment there caused the alarm bells to evolve into full on disaster sirens.

No choice. I decided then and there to take a gamble on a little hypothesis of mine I’d derived from watching this little miscreant scramble around.

But before Junko’s sword had even finished its travel path, a sinister purple glow shot out from the bubbling pool of darkness brewing beneath her. I quickly recognized the illumination’s sharp, pointed edges – it had summoned its weapon, some kind of dagger.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what they were planning to do, and if Junko’s widened, desperate eyes were any indication, she knew exactly what was coming next too.

It might have taken a genius, however, to do what I was about to. That is, to figure out how this thing was pulling this party trick of sinking in and out of the floors.

And boy, how lucky we were to be in possession of one such genius.

With my hammer aimed straight at the ebony pool, I let loose a bright, concentrated beam of light. The effect was almost instant. Like a panicked insect, the arm rapidly retreated back into the ground as my blast rushed into the ground, sending small shards of debris tumbling into the air.

Junko didn’t miss a beat, and used her momentum to leap in my direction, getting some distance.

“What the heck did you do?” She huffed between pants. “I thought I was a goner there.”

I lowered my hammer slowly, eyes never leaving the point of contact.

“I figured out how it keeps doing that disappearing act,” I stated matter-of-factly, glancing at Junko.

“Listen, stay away from – “

Unfortunately, that simple, fleeting glance was the opening a certain other enemy had been waiting for. A sound like the clap of thunder erupted through the air.

Judging from the direction and assumed angle of the sound’s origin, there was no clean way out of this one. My brain immediately started making split-second pleas and rationalizations, trying to convince my body to stop what it had reflexively began to do, but to no avail. I inhaled.

This was going to hurt.

Throwing my hammer to the floor, I pushed forward in a reckless shoulder charge, like I was trying to tackle some invisible enemy. In truth, I was just offering up the right part of my body — a hand or forearm wouldn’t cut it, but I couldn’t risk a more vital spot either.

Each second dragged into eternity as I gritted my teeth and braced myself, my heart pounding louder than the thunderous crack of the sniper round.

Much to my dismay, the experience of getting shot wasn’t something I could ever really prepare for.

The impact was like a sledgehammer slamming into the meat of my right shoulder. A searing, blinding pain shot through the top of my bicep, ripping a scream from my lungs. It was like someone had driven a hot needle straight into my muscle and then twisted it for good measure. My legs buckled, and I dropped at Junko’s feet, gasping and writhing on the ground as the world narrowed to that single point of agony.

Jesus Christ, it hurt like a bitch and then some. If I gritted my teeth any harder, they would’ve shattered into pieces. I barely heard the clatter of something metallic hitting the floor beside me, lost in the haze of ringing ears and the constant, unbearable throbbing in my shoulder.

Junko’s hands found my back, but I couldn’t tell if she was saying anything—my mind was too lost in the white-hot sting that burned through every inch of my arm. She carefully pulled me onto my back, her hands surprisingly gentle as she cradled my head with one hand and pressed her palm over my shoulder wound with the other. I could feel the warmth of my blood seeping between her fingers, but despite the pain, a strange sense of relief washed over me.

At least she was safe.

The ringing in my ears began to fade, and the world slowly returned to focus. Junko's face hovered above mine, her brows furrowed in concern. Her usually icy blue eyes had softened, betraying a vulnerability I hadn’t seen before. I tried to speak, to crack a joke or tell her I was fine, but my throat was too dry and the pain was still too fresh. I grimaced, sucking in a breath.

"…Why the hell did you do that?" Junko's voice broke the silence. It wasn’t angry, not really. More... confused. Her fingers hovered hesitantly above the wound, shaking, unsure of what to do now.

"You didn’t have to—"

"I did," I croaked, my voice barely above a whisper. My arm throbbed in protest as I tried to shift. "Light form wasn’t an option. Bullet would’ve hit you. So… I jumped. Didn’t think about it... just did. Guess that makes me kind of an idiot, huh?"

Junko blinked, and for a second, I actually thought she might laugh. But instead she just sighed, shaking her head.

"That’s exactly what you are…dumbass."

There was a pause, and I could feel her eyes tracing the red runnels meandering down my arm, her expression tight with something like guilt. It hit me then—how many people had been risking themselves like this for her? How many times had she almost seen her sister or friend almost die for her sake, just tonight?

"Don’t get all weepy on me now," I tried to joke, though it came out as more of a wheeze than anything else. "I’ll be fine. It’s not like I took a bullet to the chest or anything."

"Still... you didn’t have to do that," she murmured again, her voice softer this time, like she was trying to convince herself of it. "You don’t even know me that well."

"Knowing you…doesn’t change a damn thing. I saw you in danger, and I…I did what anyone would do," I managed, trying to meet her gaze despite the dizziness creeping in. "I’m not heartless, you know. And besides..."

I gave her a weak grin. "Someone’s gotta have your back."

The words left my mouth long before I recognized that they weren’t mine.

“It’s what an old friend of mine would’ve wanted me to do.”

Junko just stared at me then, a tinge of sadness spreading over her visage. A wave of sorrow overtook me then too. I blinked back the tears that threatened below my eyes as a pain far greater than the gunshot wound threatened to resurface.

But, to my surprise, her lips soon curved into the faintest smile. It wasn’t the cocky smirk I’d grown used to seeing from her. This was different—softer, more genuine.

She tightened her grip on my good arm.

"I owe you," she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Both of you, for this. I’m not someone who forgets a debt."

Before I could respond, a slow, mocking clap echoed through the street, shattering the fragile moment between us. Both of our heads snapped toward the sound, where a figure was stepping out.

It was that same Noise again, evidently having decided to burrow back out of the shadows.

They strolled toward us with an air of casual arrogance, gloved hands clapping together in slow, deliberate beats. They raised the back of their hand in the direction the sniper shot came from, and the subtle but shiny gleam emanating from that direction ceased immediately.

Then, there was an almost unnoticeable shift in the darkness up there, as if something was taking its leave. A tinge of cautious relief swept over my bated breath – that was one less enemy to worry about – but why dismiss it in the first place? Where was it heading to now?

And, perhaps most importantly - what was this thing planning to do to us?

“Well, well, well,” It drawled, voice laced with amusement. “Hoshino, is it? I’ll say, that was quite the cutesy display. There aren’t many people who’d literally take a bullet for a friend like that, you know.”

They paused, taking us in.

”Yep! Pretty admirable, if I do say so myself. “ They turned back to meet my eyes. “But tell me, was it worth it?"

Junko tensed beside me, her hand tightening on my shoulder as she slowly rose to her feet, positioning herself between me and the assassin. I could see the fire returning to her eyes, the fierce determination that had never quite left. But as for me, I wasn’t so sure I had the strength to stand up just yet.

"You think this is a joke?" Junko snapped, her voice ice-cold.

The enigma’s grin only widened. They clasped their hands behind their back in strange gesture that usually would have exuded some kind of shyness, but here, I could tell they were doing it on purpose.

"No, not at all.” They replied matter-of-factly. ”I find it inspiring. Not to mention you were quick to figure out how I kept disappearing…hmm.”

They tucked a finger underneath their chin, and tilted their head to the left, as if pondering something.

“You might be just the type of person we’re looking for, actually."

The words sent a chill down my spine, despite the pain in my arm.

Junko, who had previously been glaring daggers at them, froze, her brow furrowing. I could practically see her mind racing behind those blue eyes. I felt the same rising dread creeping through me.

We?

Junko took a step forward, her body tense and coiled like a spring ready to snap.

“What the hell are you talking about?” she demanded, voice low but steady. “Who’s ‘we’? It’s just Juno running this show, right?”

Their grin widened, a glint of amusement in their dark eyes.

“Is that really what you think? That Juno’s the only one with a say in all this?”

A knot formed in my stomach as realization dawned on me. My head was still spinning from the blood loss, but I forced myself to focus on their words. If that was true, then…then this thing was never a Noise to begin with, was it?

…No. The conclusion that had been silently biding its time in the back of my mind, slowly eating away at me had finally been dragged into the limelight.

This entire time, Junko and I had been fighting another human being.

That one fact alone put everything into context, like the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle. I took in this newcomer’s appearance as if looking at her for the very first time.

From the second she appeared, this girl moved like liquid shadow, her body a blur of fluid, calculated motion – in other words, she had a level of control that was lightyears beyond any Noise we’d encountered thus far.

I recalled moments of stillness, just before striking, where her breath hitched in a way that made her seem alive—as if there was more than just instinct driving her.

She wore a sleek, skin-tight black bodysuit, not too dissimilar from mine; some kind of hybrid between an assassin’s garb and a high-tech combat suit. The fabric shimmered faintly in the dim light, absorbing her into the environment as if the darkness itself was her cover. But even the suit showed clear signs of intentional design. It was reinforced with thin, crisscrossing straps of armor plating at her shoulders, forearms, and legs, designed for mobility but protection where it mattered.

Still, her hair was a striking contrast—long and silvery white, tumbling down her back in a chaotic yet strikingly elegant wave, streaked with black highlights that matched the darkness she slipped in and out of so easily. Despite the chaos of our battle, not a single strand seemed out of place.

Then there were her eyes, faintly violet, still glimmering impishly with equal parts playfulness and condescension.

In those same eyes, I could tell she was toying with us, holding back like she clearly had been during our fight. The way she said it, though, like there was this whole bigger picture we hadn’t even glimpsed yet - it made my skin crawl.

“So there’s more of you?” I croaked out, struggling to sit up. Junko didn’t turn to look at me, but I could tell she was hanging onto every word too, likely having come to the same conclusion as me. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Other humans who can come here… like us?”

The assassin chuckled, her voice dripping with condescension.

“Humans, sure. If that’s what you want to call us.” She let the sentence hang in the air, twisting the ambiguity like a knife. “But you’re right. There are others. I imagine you’ll meet them soon enough – if you survive that long, anyhow.”

Junko’s fists tightened at her sides.

“Bullshit,” she hissed, but the slight tremble in her intonation betrayed the resolve she was desperately trying to dredge up.

“No one…no one else is supposed to be able to do what we do.”

The assassin tilted her head, eyes gleaming with mock sympathy.

“Aww, poor wittle snowflake.” She mocked.” Is that what Juno told you? That you’re special? How quaint. This world’s been keeping secrets from you, sweetheart. You’re barely scratching the surface.”

Junko’s jaw clenched, her anger clearly bubbling up. But she was just about holding it back. We didn’t know enough. If there were others like us... if this whole thing was bigger than just Juno and the Hollow Night, we needed information. Not just another fight.

I finally managed to push myself upright, despite the burning throb in my shoulder, and glared at our informant.

“You’re playing games. Why don’t you quit the cryptic crap and tell us what’s really going on?”

She giggled again, sounding almost delighted.

“Oh, I could, but where’s the fun in that? Like I said, I think you’ll find out soon enough either way. I only hope the two of you end up picking the same side – it would be such a shame to see diamonds as pretty as you on opposite teams.”

“…Pick the same side?” Junko echoed, her voice laced with disbelief. “What are you—?”

Junko was suddenly given a frighteningly razor-sharp glare, cutting her off. Even though it wasn’t directed at me, just witnessing that made my internal temperature take one hell of a nosedive.

“We’re watching all of you very closely. Some of us are more... forgiving than others.” She warned, her demeanour having undergone a complete 180 faster than I could even blink. ”But make no mistake, girls, you and your friends will have to choose where you stand.”

Her grin was icy now, all vestiges of humor long gone.

“And you’ll have to live with the consequences.”

A cold wave of dread washed over me as her words sank in. Choose a side? Between who? Between what? The thought of there having been a whole other conflict raging in the background of our desperate struggle for survival -

I didn’t like the sound of it one bit.

Junko’s voice was hard as steel. “Argh! Again, who the hell is ‘we’? Who do you work for?” she demanded, stepping closer again, her gaze burning with frustration. “And what do you want with us?!”

The girl opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. Instead, a guttural sound like a roar shook the ground and split through the night air, causing all three of us to recoil in surprise. A sinking feeling made itself known in my chest, and I had this horrible sense – almost like a foreshadowing – of what was to come.

I looked back to the mysterious figure, expecting to see another smug reaction. But she was staring off in the direction of the sound with a furrowed brow and focused eyes, a frown fixed on her lips. Whatever that was, if it got even this girl to ditch that carefree air of hers, then what the hell were we dealing with now?

“…All in good time, my precious little diamonds.” She responded absentmindedly without moving her head away from that strange sound’s origin. For a moment I wished I could see whatever it was that she was seeing, but considering that the frown on her face was only deepening by the second, I quickly decided against it.

“At any rate, your roles in all this are just getting started. Keep your eyes wide open, darlings. Toodles!”

And with that, she melted into the ground like smoke, disappearing completely into the shadows below. The silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by the shake of distant tremors and the heavy beat of my heart in my chest.

Junko stood there, fists clenched, glaring at the spot where the girl had vanished. Her breathing was ragged, not from the fight, but from something worse—uncertainty. She hated not knowing. And right now, we didn’t know anything anymore.

“Junko…” I started, wincing as I shifted. She didn’t respond at first, her eyes still fixed on the shadows. Eventually, she exhaled slowly and knelt back down beside me, her anger still simmering beneath the surface. I could feel it.

“We need to find out what’s going on,” she muttered, exasperated. “This whole thing... it’s bigger than we thought.”

“No kidding,” I groaned, the sting in my shoulder intensifying as the adrenaline wore off. “What do you think she meant by ‘others’? You think there’s more EXS users like us? Or worse?”

Junko didn’t answer right away. She just stared off into the distance, her eyes dark with thought.

“I don’t know. But whatever it is, we’re not completely alone in this anymore. Juno is hiding things about this whole place from us. I guess we've always suspected it, but having it confirmed...that… that changes a lot.”

Her words hung in the air like a looming threat, heavy with implication. We weren’t alone. The idea was unsettling. The Hollow Night was supposed to be this twisted little arena with its own set of rules — we were supposed to be able to figure those rules out, fight, survive, and end this nightmare. But now...

Now it felt like the nightmare was only just beginning.

And worse yet, we didn’t know who we could trust. Juno had to have been watching that exchange we’d just had. What was going through their head? Would they bring it up?

I was entertaining the idea of calling Juno out right then and there. I wanted something, anything to alleviate the debilitating anxiety steadily wrapping itself around my chest, when another howl thundered through the empty night alleyways and crashed against our ears with force.

“There’s that damned racket again,” I groaned, covering my left ear. “What is it now?”

“…I guess we’re about to find out.” Junko sighed, helping me to my feet.

“Come on, let’s move.”

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 60 - Liu Katoru

Hollow Night

Cold concrete scraped against my skin as I dragged myself forward, and I could feel my my blood leaving a trail behind. At this point, I could barely feel my legs anymore, and my right arm hung limp at my side. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

I couldn’t believe what I’d tried to do.

I almost killed her.

The thought was a dull hammer smashing into my skull. Mizuko wasn’t my enemy, not really. Not in the way that mattered. I knew that. I knew that and still, I’d let myself go too far, lost myself in this stupid idea of revenge, and all it got me was blood on my hands and a body full of holes.

It was like Akio’s ghost haunted my every breath, and I’d spent so long trying to drown out the pain with hate that I didn’t even recognize myself anymore.

I coughed, tasting copper. I deserved this. My limbs trembled with each pull forward. Every inhale felt like inhaling fire, sharp and cutting. I wasn’t sure how much further I could crawl. A few feet, maybe? Then I could die somewhere quiet. Alone. Like I probably should’ve a long time ago.

That’s when I felt it, cold and dark, swirling inside me. The familiar shadow that was always there, lurking in the corners of my mind.

"You’re pathetic, Liu," the voice rumbled, low and almost indifferent. The air around me grew heavy as if the Tainted was materializing without me summoning it. "Crawling through the dirt like some kind of dying dog."

I bit back a bitter laugh. "What do you want?" I muttered, my voice hoarse, cracked. "Come to kick me while I’m down?"

The Tainted didn’t answer right away. Instead, it manifested just a few feet in front of me, a perfect copy of myself but darker, a blackened mirror reflecting my worst parts. The shadows around its form writhed and pulsed, and it stared down at me with calm, glowing eyes. There was no anger in its gaze, only cold, detached clarity.

"What do you want, Liu?" It asked, its voice unnervingly calm. "Is this how it ends? Crawling away, running from everything you’ve done? From everyone you’ve hurt?"

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. "Shut up," I spat weakly, but even that was an empty command.

"I’m just saying what you’re already thinking," it replied, stepping closer, its form rippling like water. "You thought killing the others and taking their power would bring you some kind of peace, didn’t you? Or maybe you were just trying to make yourself feel strong for once."

My vision blurred as the pain gnawed at me.

"I—I wasn’t thinking," I admitted, the words tumbling out. "I... I don’t know why I did it. They all showed up out of nowhere, she was in the way, and I thought..." My throat tightened, the confession clawing its way out of me.

"I thought if I absorbed her EXS, I’d have the power to—"

"—to what?" the Tainted interrupted smoothly. "Get revenge? For Akio? Revenge for what, exactly? His death was your fault, wasn’t it?"

A sharp breath escaped me, the truth hitting me like a knife to the chest. Akio. For the last day, everything I felt, thought, or did - it always came back to this guy. He was gone because I was too weak. Too weak to stop him from getting involved with me and my mess.

"Shut up," I growled again, but even to my ears, it sounded pitiful. Empty. Because it was the truth. The Tainted wasn’t lying—it was a part of me, after all. My darkest thoughts, my guilt, my anger, all rolled into one black mass.

"You’ve always hated yourself, Liu," it continued, pacing in front of me. "You’re always chasing something, some idea of redemption. But you’re too scared to face the truth. You’re weak. You’ve always been weak."

I let my head fall to the cold, dirty ground. I was tired. So goddamn tired. Maybe it was right. Maybe the Tainted was telling me the things I’d never wanted to admit. All this time I’d been blaming the Hollow Night, blaming Juno, blaming everyone else for the shit I’d been through. But the truth was, I was too scared to admit that none of it would’ve happened if I hadn’t been so pathetic to begin with.

"I really almost killed someone," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "What kind of monster does that make me?"

The Tainted knelt beside me, resting a shadowy hand on my shoulder. It was cold, almost comforting, and it spoke softly, its voice no longer accusatory, but reflective.

"It doesn’t make you a monster, Liu. It makes you desperate." Its words cut through me, clean and sharp. "You want power. You want control. You want to stop feeling so... small. But this path you’re on? It’ll only eat you alive."

A bitter chuckle escaped my lips, though it quickly turned into a pained cough.

"Then what am I supposed to do?" I asked, voice raw. "I can’t fix anything. I can’t bring Akio back."

"No," the Tainted agreed. "But you can stop running from who you are. From what you’ve been through. From the mistakes you’ve made. You can stop pretending that hating yourself will solve anything." It paused for a moment, as if considering its next words.

"You don’t need to be a hero, Liu. But you don’t have to be a villain either."

I let the words sink in, the cold, hard truth of them. For the first time in a long while, I felt... something close to clarity. I wasn’t the hero of this story. But maybe I didn’t need to be. Maybe I just needed to carry on. To find a reason beyond all this guilt and pain.

I looked up at the Tainted, meeting its glowing gaze, and for the first time since the conversation started, I didn’t feel anger or resentment toward it. It was me, after all. The worst parts of me, sure, but still me. And maybe it was time I started dealing with that.

"You’re not wrong," I admitted quietly. "I’ve been running... from everything."

"Then stop running," the Tainted replied simply. "And face whatever comes next."

And just like that, the shadows around it began to dissipate, sinking back into my body as if waiting for the next time I’d call upon it.

But before I could even begin to process the weight of what had just happened, a soft sound reached my ears—footsteps. Someone was approaching, and I wasn’t in any condition to fight. I tried to push myself up, but my body wouldn’t respond.

"Well, well, what have we here?"

The voice was low, calm, and almost amused. My eyes strained to focus on the figure standing just out of reach, cloaked in a hood, their face obscured by shadows. There was a really weird sense of familiarity to them, but I couldn’t place it.

"Seems you’ve had a rough day, Liu," they continued, stepping closer. "Care for a helping hand?”

I didn’t respond, but they crouched beside me, and for a brief moment, I caught a glimpse of their face—sharp, calculating eyes that seemed to see right through me.

"You’re not as alone as you think, you know," the figure said softly. "There are others like us... people who know what it’s like to be lost."

I narrowed my eyes, trying to find my voice.

"Who... are you?"

The figure smiled faintly beneath the hood, but they didn’t give me any answers, only another annoyingly cryptic question.

“The better question would be, who are you?” They mused breezily. “Or perhaps, why are you?”

The words, light as they were, carried an unsettling weight. Something about them pulled at my insides, like they weren’t just asking about my name or identity, but something deeper—something I wasn’t sure I could answer.

Liu... be careful.

The Tainted's voice crawled through my mind like a cold shiver, its usual indifference now tinged with urgency. I hadn’t heard it since our “conversation,” but now it slithered back with a sense of warning.

This person... their EXS... ‘dangerous’ doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m sensing. It’s beyond anything we’ve seen. Watch your words.

I tensed, my breath catching in my throat. There was something wrong with this guy—something beneath their whimsical tone and casual manner that felt like a knife hovering just above my skin. I tried to move, but my body still wouldn’t respond fully.

"Don’t strain yourself, pal," the figure hummed, as if reading my thoughts. "You’ll only hurt yourself further."

They tilted their head, watching me struggle for a moment, their eyes gleaming from the shadows of their hood. I returned their stare with a glare of my own.

"Now, now... no need for hostility. I’m not here to harm you. Well, not yet, anyway."

They chuckled heartily, the sound eerily out of place in the dead silence around us.

Not yet?

The figure twirled their cloak dramatically as if they were performing on a stage, their movements light, whimsical, almost playful. It was like they existed just slightly out of sync with the world. Each step they took felt too smooth, too deliberate, like a predator toying with its prey.

“Why are you?” they repeated, their voice lilting. "A curious little question, isn’t it? What brings someone like you, so full of hate and despair, to a place like this?"

"I..." My voice cracked. "I don’t know."

Liu, don't engage. They’re toying with you.

The Tainted's warning echoed again, but I ignored it. It was like this person knew more about me than I knew about myself. Like they had some hidden insight into who I was.

The figure gave a soft sigh, shaking their head as if disappointed.

"Of course, you don’t.“

Their eyes flickered with a strange light, something akin to amusement.

"Lucky for you, I’m here to help." They twirled their hand in the air, as if conducting an invisible orchestra.

"After all, the Hollow Night... it’s so much bigger than you think. And you? You’ve been part of it for far longer than you realize."

My heart skipped a beat. "What are you talking about?"

The figure’s smile widened. They took a step closer, their form looming over me now, and despite the casual nature of their movements, there was a darkness in their presence—a weight that pressed against me like a vice. I wanted to back away, to escape, but my body was still too weak.

“You’ve always been tied to this place, Liu,” they whispered, their voice almost affectionate. “Long before you ever set foot here. This realm... it’s not just some random occurrence for you.”

They paused, but didn’t move a muscle.

“Nah, for you? I’d say it’s home.”

“Home?” I rasped, disbelieving. “That’s... that’s impossible. I’ve only been here for—”

“Ah, but time is such a tricky thing, don’t you think?” They tapped their chin thoughtfully. “So linear, so predictable... until it’s not. Until it wraps around itself and devours its own tail. And you, dear Liu, you’re caught right in the middle of it all.”

I stared at them, the words not fully sinking in. My mind was a haze of confusion and growing dread. "What... what do you mean?"

They leaned in closer, as if about to release a conspiratorial whisper, before jerking back suddenly.

"Woah...I’ve already said too much, haven’t I? Better get going. Can’t have the fuzz around here catching wind of my visit, y’know?”

"What?" I demanded, my voice hoarse with frustration. "What the hell are you talking about?!"

The figure twirled away with a carefree laugh, their movements graceful, almost dance-like. "Oh, come on now. I can’t do everything for you. Keep your eyes open... and you’ll see soon enough."

Just as I began to push myself up, fueled by anger and confusion that dulled the raging pain, the figure flicked their wrist, and a small, glowing white orb materialized in their hand.

"Oh, right - here. A little parting gift."

They tossed the orb casually toward me, and I caught it instinctively, its warmth pulsating in my palm. "What is this?"

"Just a little something to help you on your journey. A bit of power. I reckon you’ll need it." The figure winked, their smile widening. "I’ll be watching, you know. Rooting for you."

My mind swirled with questions, but before I could voice any of them, they turned to leave. That’s when I heard it. Their voice, almost too soft to hear, but it pierced through the haze in my head like a knife.

"Man, you look just like that sister of yours, you know that?"

My heart stopped. Ice flooded my veins as I stared at the back of the figure, my body trembling with sudden rage. Sister...? They knew. They knew about her.

The orb in my hand flared with energy, and without thinking, I launched myself toward the figure, a snarl ripping from my throat.

"What do you know about her?!"

But before I even got close, the world flipped upside down. In an instant, they had moved. No, not moved—shifted, like a shadow flickering between two lights. My fist never connected. Instead, I found myself slammed to the ground, face-first, with a force so overwhelming I couldn’t even register what had happened.

"You’re quick to anger," the figure said, now standing calmly above me, one foot resting lightly on my back. "Careful now, that could be your downfall, Liu."

They pressed down ever so slightly, and the pain shot through my body like fire.

"But don’t worry. You’ll learn. In time."

I gritted my teeth, the rage still burning in my chest, but I was helpless. I couldn’t move, couldn’t fight. They had me completely at their mercy.

The figure chuckled softly, lifting their foot from my back.

“We’ll meet again soon enough, I think." They turned on their heel, the shadows around them beginning to swirl, obscuring their form.

"Until then... keep that anger under control, but always close. You never know when you might need it."

And just like that, they were gone. Vanished into the darkness, leaving me broken and alone on the ground, clutching the orb in my hand.

The Tainted’s voice whispered again, quieter this time.

…What in the fresh hell did we just step into?

I lay there for a moment, my mind racing, my body trembling. Sister... How did they know? What did they know? And why did I feel like I was on the edge of something terrifying?

The orb in my hand pulsed softly, a reminder that I was still here, still alive. But for how much longer?

That was anyone’s guess.

Even though my strength quickly returned after taking in the orb, I couldn’t even find the motivation to get up. Where would I even go? I’d just tried to kill off one of the others.

‘My bad’ wouldn’t exactly cut it here.

The Tainted materialized, likely about to kick me off of my ass, when a stupidly sharp pain stabbed at my chest.

“…Shit!” I croaked, clutching the left side of my torso. “S-Shit, what’s happening to me?!”

Was I having a heart attack? Here, now? Was there something wrong with the orb that guy gave me? Fuck, it felt like I was being ripped into pieces from the inside.

…No, the Tainted started to explain with the kind of uncharacteristic panic that only made my pain worse.

It’s Daisuke. It’s gotta be Daisuke. I can feel it from here - something’s wrong with his EXS, Liu, it’s expanding, overflowing, growing out of control. It’s at an intensity his body clearly can’t handle! But then why is this affecting –

“Argh, our fucking Pact!” I yelled, making a small crater in the concrete floor with my fist. “He can’t handle it, right? So the surplus…is being redirected to me!”

Shit! The Tainted cursed. Liu, he’s not showing any signs of stopping. If this carries on, you’ll both –

“Then take me to him!” I commanded through grit teeth. “It’s clear I gotta teach this…idiot partner of mine a lesson in teamwork!”

The Tainted hesitated for just a split second, and then we moved.

Everything blurred. My body screamed in protest, every step like walking through knives, but there was no time to think. Daisuke was spiralling out of control. If I didn’t stop him now, we’d both be dead—and likely anyone else caught in the aftermath.

The pain was unbearable, but the closer we got, the more I could feel something else brewing inside me. A fury that matched his. His EXS, flooding into me, felt like it was feeding the possibilities of what I could do. The Tainted, though silent, started to brim with a power that felt entirely new.

And maybe that was a good thing. Because when I found him, this wasn’t going to be a conversation.

It was going to be a fucking war.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 61 - Arthur Cunningham

Hollow Night

“Come on!”

Closing my grip on the newcomer’s collar, I morphed into my beast form and leapt back down the street, where Rusuban, Shirogetsu, and Kozuki were currently positioned. They were all looking behind me, at the sheer monstrosity that had once been Daisuke, as it marched unevenly toward us.

I landed with a heavy thud in front of the trio, but they saw right through me. I put the newcomer, Nakamura, down onto the concrete floor gently. Only then did I notice that he hadn’t moved or stirred once since he witnessed the monster’s harrowing form.

Perhaps it was only in that moment, as I glanced down at his face, that I realized just how deep a mess we’d gotten into. To say that Nakamura’s eyes were vacant would be an understatement, and to be honest, not entirely accurate. It’s more like they were haunted. Frozen wide open, pupils dilated like black holes, staring straight past me, past the night, into something far darker. Something within.

“It’s already taken root.”

The voice was a far cry from the once princely and almost disinterested lilt I knew him for—Rusuban, folded over on his hands and knees, looking down at the ground and his features splayed with panic. I was currently sure of one thing, and one thing only:

This was all his fault.

But, I couldn’t ignore the unease gnawing at the edges of his words.

Nakamura’s breath hitched, and his eyes twitched, just barely—then again. His lips trembled, mouthing words too faint to catch, too garbled to make sense. And suddenly, I understood. I’d caught glimpses of this before.

“He’s in some kind of hallucination…” I noted aloud, more to myself than anyone else.

Miharu’s head nodded grimly in my peripherals, her gaze not leaving the towering, monstrous figure of Daisuke in the distance.

“He required thine gaze ‘ere now…” she whispered, her voice taut and tense with fear. “But now, by mere presence alone, he doth reveal thy most dreaded fears, and maketh thee endure them.”

I looked back at Nakamura and felt the bile rise in my throat. His expression had contorted—half in terror, half in a strange, twisted kind of disbelief, as if his mind couldn’t quite fathom what it was showing him. His body remained locked in place, but his eyes... they darted wildly, as if trying to escape the horrors dancing before them.

“No,” Nakamura rasped, his voice so low it was almost a hiss. His fingers twitched against the pavement, clawing at the air, gripping nothing. His breathing grew more labored with each second.

“I won’t...I won’t—!”

His chest heaved, and he looked like he was about to snap. Whatever nightmare Daisuke had thrust him into was devouring him alive.

“Bloody hell,” I whispered, feeling my heart pound against my ribs. I knew I had to pull him out of it, but how? How do you break someone free from the chains of their own mind?

"Nakamura!" I snapped, grabbing his shoulders, shaking him gently at first, then harder when I didn’t get a reaction. "Listen to me! Whatever you’re seeing, it’s not real! Daisuke—he’s warping your mind! You’ve got to push it out!"

He didn’t hear me. Didn’t even flinch.

His breath quickened, and suddenly, his hands flew up to his head, gripping his hair so tight I thought he might tear it out.

“I-I can’t... no... no, please... not again!” he cried, his voice splintering into a broken sob.

The fear was overwhelming him, swallowing him whole. His mind was trapped in that loop—whatever nightmare Daisuke had made him live, it was bleeding into the real world, warping his perception.

I had to get through to him. Fast.

I glanced back at Rusuban and Miharu, who looked just as helpless as I felt. I didn’t have time to wait for them to come up with something. Daisuke’s influence was spreading too fast, and Nakamura’s panic was escalating.

“Nakamura!” I shouted again, this time louder, more forceful. “Damn it, snap out of it! We don’t have time for this!”

But his eyes were glassed over, no longer seeing me—just the monsters of his mind.

There was no reasoning with him like this. I had no choice.

My hands balled into fists, and promptly erupted into flame.

“Nakamura, forgive me!” I cried, but there was no time left to hesitate.

With fire still coating my paws, I brought them only inches away from Nakamura’s face. No reaction, so I moved them closer. Closer. Then, it was only for a moment, though I saw it clear as day. There was a spark of sobriety, his physical body detecting the unpleasant heat and attempting to get him to move away.

But I needed more.

“You can feel that, can’t you, Nakamura?!” I yelled in an attempt to reassure myself I was doing the right thing. “Wake up!”

I brought my hands even closer, causing his face to scrunch up and sweat with displeasure. I must have been less than 45 centimetres away from making contact with his nose.

Come on! You can do this!

Nakamura suddenly gasped for air and swatted my arms away just as I was about to do the unthinkable. For a moment I was surprised, and shocked, at how close I was to actually following through, but decided to focus my attention on matters at hand instead.

“My apologies,” I muttered remorsefully as Nakamura sputtered like an aged engine over the tarmac.

But in the pockets of silence, I could hear Daisuke still moving, and much closer than before.

At this distance, I could feel the first contact of a terrifying force attempting to burrow into my mind, to crack it open and play out the darkest fears that lay within.

“What…was that?” Nakamura coughed after a few seconds. “No, what- what is that?”

“It used to be Daisuke,” I opted for the fastest possible explanation. “But something inside him must have snapped. He’s lost control of his power, and…and now he’s become some kind of monstrosity.”

I released my form and extended a hand down to him. He watched me with bemusement, before dropping his hand in mine.

“…So you’re some kind of fire werewolf butler.” He sighed, hints of exasperated laughter tempting the notes of his voice. “This is a dream, all right.”

I found it hard to resist a smile when the absurdity of it all was stated so plainly – even in a dire situation like this. I began to understand why this boy was so well-liked across the student body.

“You were hallucinating there, weren’t you?” I pressed, getting back on topic. There were slight trembles in the floor growing beneath us now, so there really was no time left. “ What did you see?”

Nakamura grimaced.

“…It was bad. It was like I was given a front-row seat to a play starring all of my worst fears.” He eventually managed. “Some of them went deeper than I thought possible, things I didn’t even know I was afraid of until they happened right in my face. I thought it would never end.”

He grit his teeth as if reliving the illusions all over again, and immediately my heart swelled with empathy for the boy. From what I hear, he was rather close to Furusawa, and now he’d been snatched away and brought here against his will too.

Unlike the rest of us, however, he didn’t have two night’s worth of experience and heartbreak to prepare him for the nightmares he’d have to face here. Recklessness aside, I sensed a great courage from this boy. I only hoped there was enough to share.

“…So, how do we stop him?” Nakamura asked. The tremors had grown even stronger now.

I opened my mouth to reply when another had beat me to the punch.

“Don’t you understand, you fool?!” Rusuban cried. He’d risen to his feet at some point, likely too quickly, almost collapsing from exhaustion and having to hold onto a nearby streetlight.

“There is no stopping that! H-He’s going to keep coming after me – us, until – “

Perhaps, in another lifetime, I’d have allowed that to slip. But not this one. Rusuban didn’t get any more free passes from me.

“What do you mean, he’s going to keep coming after you, Rusuban?” I pounced. “Why should he have any reason to come after you in particular?”

All eyes shifted onto Rusuban then, and he took a step back, as though he was almost being blown over by a gust.

“…I – I don’t – “

I closed the distance between us, my anger flaring hotter by the second.

“What did you do, Rusuban?! What on earth did you do to him?” My voice thundered around the desolate street. “You’ve doomed us all, haven’t you?! We’re all paying for your mistake!”

I was only a few steps away from him now, my arm raised, when a blur of red swept in front of me like a breeze. Kozuki looked up at me resolutely, her arm stretched out straight across my chest. She didn’t say a word, but didn’t have to. Her message was clear.

I grunted, just about managing to keep my anger from triggering my transformation involuntarily. “What’s stopping us from leaving you to your just desserts, deceiver?!”

“Arthur.”

A cold, gentle sensation rested on my left shoulder, and instantly I felt the rage begin to dissipate. I couldn’t remember the last time Mizuko called me by my first name.

“…Kozuki will die if we do.”

Her words hit me like a sledgehammer. My anger crumbled under the weight of that single sentence. I clenched my jaw, torn. Kozuki... I couldn’t let her die. But Rusuban—he was manipulating her, using her as a shield, and I knew it. And yet...

Then came a light tap on my shoulder. My body tensed reflexively, thinking it was Mizuko again, but when I turned, it was Nakamura. His face had gone deathly pale, his mouth slightly open, trembling, as though he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.

“Nakamura?” I asked, frowning. “What is—”

His eyes weren’t looking at me. They were looking past me.

I followed his gaze, my body slowly turning to face the horror he’d seen first.

Daisuke.

He was there. Right there. At some point—either through some twisted illusion or maybe something far worse—he had silently appeared, towering over us like a silent specter. His presence was suffocating, his monstrous form still as stone, unmoving, but brimming with power.

My breath caught in my throat. How hadn’t I noticed? How had any of us not seen him until now? The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, the temperature plummeting around us. The air felt heavy, thick, as though the very fabric of reality was bending under his influence.

His eyes—those hollow, burning pits—locked onto me for a brief moment, but only long enough to make sure I knew I was beneath his notice. Then, as if to confirm what I already feared, Daisuke’s jagged, twisted finger slowly rose and pointed.

Not at me. Not at Kozuki, Mizuko, or Nakamura.

At Rusuban.

No words. No growl. Just a single, deliberate gesture.

Daisuke’s intention was crystal clear. He wanted Rusuban. Only Rusuban.

I felt the cold sweat drip down the back of my neck. Every muscle in my body screamed for me to move, to fight, to do something, but the sheer force of Daisuke’s presence pinned me in place like a helpless animal caught in the jaws of a predator. The others were no better off—frozen, eyes wide with horror.

“…Cunningham,” Nakamura whispered, his voice barely audible. His body trembled like a leaf in the wind, and I could see the fear in his eyes, the realization that we were standing on the edge of something far worse than death.

Daisuke’s finger remained fixed on Rusuban. He didn’t move. He didn’t need to..

Rusuban took a shaky step back, his breath quickening.

"I-I didn’t... I never meant for—" His voice cracked, raw with panic. But whatever excuse he was about to make died in his throat.

Daisuke, still silent, took one slow step forward.

It was enough to send a ripple of terror through all of us.

“Kozuki!” I whispered urgently, my hands curling into fists again, though the fire had died out. "Get behind me."

But Kozuki didn’t move. She just stood there, staring at Daisuke with wide eyes, as though caught in a trance. She wasn’t scared. No, it was worse than that.

It looked like she was waiting patiently for something..

“Kozuki!” I was practically yelling now. What on earth was she thinking?

She didn’t respond. Her body trembled slightly, her gaze unwavering. I saw it then —a faint blue glow beginning to outline her form. My heart dropped.

Before I could shout, Kozuki’s body blurred into motion, a flash of brilliant blue, her sword drawn and sweeping through the air like a comet. Her blade sliced through Daisuke’s outstretched arm just as his monstrous hand was inches from grabbing Rusuban.

Clang!

The metallic ring of her sword against the hardened flesh of Daisuke's limb echoed across the street. Sparks flew. Daisuke staggered back, a low, guttural growl rumbling from his chest as he recoiled from the blow.

“NO!”

Our death warrant had just been signed.

Daisuke’s once eerily still form began to tremble, his body reacting to the sudden attack. The air around us thickened with his growing rage, and for the first time, his gaze left Rusuban and settled squarely on Kozuki.

Mizuko’s voice was strained. “She... she struck first...”

As Miharu landed, trembling, she took a sharp breath, her face pale and eyes wide with fear. I was as if she’d just realized what she’d done.

Her mouth stuttered open, perhaps to say something, but a sharp burst of hysterical laughter cut her off.

Kinoko, of all people, had begun to cackle, doubling over in manic glee as if the situation were some kind of sick joke.

“Y-You lot,” he wheezed between bouts of laughter. “You’ve gone and done it now, haven’t you! Hahaha! You’ve dragged yourselves into this! You’re protecting me—ha!—you’re protecting me! And now, none of you are getting out of this alive!”

“Silence!” I roared, grabbing Kinoko by the collar and yanking him toward me. “Do you want to die, you lunatic?!”

But Kinoko’s grin never faltered, even as I held him mere inches from my face.

“You won’t hurt me,” he said, his voice unnervingly calm. “You can’t. You won’t risk Kozuki's life, and now you’re stuck playing this game, risking everyone’s lives, because you won’t let her die.”

His words stung more than they should have, because they were the truth. I glared into his eyes, my fists trembling with the desire to break every bone in his smug little face, but my hands loosened, and I shoved him aside with a grunt.

Daisuke’s growl grew louder, more bestial. The temperature around us dropped even further, and a sharp crack split the air as his clawed feet stomped into the concrete, sending tremors through the ground.

I turned back toward Kozuki, who had her blade raised slightly unsteadily but poised for another strike. It seemed she’d accepted her role and intended to follow it through to the end.

Nakamura had risen to his feet, still shaking, his eyes darting between Daisuke and the rest of us. Mizuko, too, had readied herself, though I could see the fear written all over her face.

Daisuke was no longer human. I had to remember that more than anything. He was a force of nature now, and Kozuki’s attack had unleashed something feral within him.

His form was shifting, growing more monstrous with each second that passed. His eyes—those hollow, empty eyes—seemed to glow with a dangerous light, and his jagged teeth gleamed in the cold moonlight.

“We don’t have a choice,” I muttered, my voice barely audible over the mounting roar of Daisuke’s fury. “If we don’t stop him here...”

Mizuko’s cold hand rested on my shoulder again. “It’s up to us,” she said quietly, her gaze steady.

“We’ll hold the line together. Until the very end.”

I nodded, steeling myself for what was to come. My claws ignited in a blaze of fire as I summoned every ounce of strength I had left. Nakamura readied his stance beside me, his gauntlet fists crackling with energy. Mizuko brought forth the remnants of her own EXS, the air around her plummeting in temperature.

“Daisuke!” I shouted, my voice cutting through the noise. “If you’re still in there, if you can hear me—”

But the monstrous figure before me didn’t respond. His eyes flickered briefly, a hint of something human, something familiar, but it was gone as quickly as it came. All that remained was the beast, and he was no longer holding back.

Daisuke’s hand shot forward, faster than I’d ever seen, aiming for Kozuki once more.

“Kozuki!” I called out, but she was already moving, her blue glow flaring as she twisted away from the strike with impossible speed. Her sword flashed again, striking Daisuke’s arm, quickly followed by another slash with a glowing white blade she seemingly pulled from thin air.

But this time, he didn’t stagger. He took the blow without so much as flinching, his movements now more deliberate, more deadly.

I grit my teeth, feeling the weight of the moment crash down on me. There was no turning back now.

It was us against him.

And if we couldn’t find a way to end this, none of us were walking away.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 62 - Reaper

Hollow Night

It’s safe to say something has been amiss with me ever since I entered this sunless realm. No - perhaps it would be more accurate to say that whatever had been off with me from the beginning—from seven years ago—was now being hauled to center stage.

I notice now how each step through this Hollow Night feels like a premonition, as though the very fabric of this place recognizes me and reaches out to me. I reflexively glide through the shadows, effortlessly sensing every shift, every subtle twist of this reality, as though I’d been born into it. The darkness bends and sways around me, as if to accommodate my path, almost bowing to my presence.

It’s just my body adapting quickly for the sake of survival, I tell myself. It’s the familiarity I’ve gained over time.

But even as I try to rationalize it, I know the truth is buried within me somewhere, gnawing and clawing at me. The undeniable fact that this place feels more like home than any place in real world ever has.

I leap across a gap in the crumbling cityscape, watching as the Hollow Night’s twisted architecture warps in the corner of my vision. Nothing about these ruins should be navigable. And yet, I trace the routes as if they’ve been etched into my mind for years. I scale walls that should be impossible to climb, descend depths that should feel like falling into an abyss but only feel natural underfoot.

I know I shouldn’t be able to move with such ease, but something inside me stirs, a quiet thrill surfacing at how right it all feels.

That journal had cracked something open within me. The words were a fire I couldn’t resist, a bridge between now and… then. I was sure I had answers within reach, and yet they remained shrouded, a memory encased in smoke.

Seven years I’d tried to forget, but the familiar phrases, the names, the secrets—they’d called to me as I read.

Back in the present, I halted my nightly hunt’s progress, perching on the top of a streetlight as a sudden tremor caused the lights to quake. Piercing through the fog of my thoughts, lucid as the glare of a mirror, there he was.

Even from here, I felt the energy rippling in the air, some dreadful metamorphosis emanating from Scarecrow. I could practically see him in my mind’s eye, twisted and unrecognizable, allowing his nature to overtake him. Anger licked at my chest, unsettlingly fierce. I realized he was about to break our promise, the one we’d made at the park, and something primal within me stirred—a cold resolve that wouldn’t allow it.

I pressed forward, the weight of my purpose intensifying with each step. My path bended, honing in on his position across the sprawling darkness. But as I shifted course, moving to close the distance, I felt an unfamiliar presence—an abrupt halt in the rhythm of the shadows’ constant movement. Someone, or something, stood in my way.

The figure materialized out of the shadows of a nearby rooftop, its stance tense, gaze fixed on me. They’re holding something long and barrel-ended. There’s a precision to their stance, a calculated stillness that suggests they’ve been waiting. Observing. I narrow my eyes, watching the way the dark clings to them, lending an ominous quality to their aura. I know an enemy when I see one.

“Out of my way,” I attempt, my voice echoing sharply in the vast silence around us. My patience for obstacles was admittedly waning, fraying with the call of Scarecrow’s betrayal in the distance.

But the figure didn’t respond. Instead, they shifted slightly, their stance unfaltering, making it clear that they have no intention of letting me pass. The air grew tense, a palpable charge hanging between us, as if the Hollow Night itself was holding its breath, anticipating the clash to come.

I take a step forward, fingers tracing the handle of my weapon, my pulse thrumming with a controlled intensity. The figure mirrors my movements, their posture calculated, predatory. They raise what I now realize is some kind of rifle, and hold it steady, pointed directly at me.

I then feel an instinctive lightness in my feet as my stance widens. A stray thought whispers through my mind—Why does this feel so familiar? The skill, the instinctual knowledge of where to place my steps, how to draw my scythe without hesitation.

I shake the thought away. There will be time for questions later.

In a single breath, the tension snaps, and we engage in an instant. I perform a ghastly weave to the right just as a bullet erupts from the red line of sight heading my way, and then leap in my rival’s direction. They manage to duck just as my scythe carves a clean gash into air, and in a split second I feel its gun push up against my stomach.

I manage to bend backwards far enough to escape from the counter with a long red cut across my torso as the bullet trails through my flesh like sand, just narrowly missing my jugular.

Smarting slightly from the swift manoeuvre, I leap back and observe. My opponent doesn’t speak, but I can sense some kind of determination regardless, and cold, unyielding focus. A kind of intensity that mirrored my own. They are now looking back at me. We circle each other, our steps measured, a deadly rhythm forming between us.

A sense of purpose is surely flowing through me, one that’s both terrifying and exhilarating. Instead of questioning why I feel so alive in this moment, I only press harder, the thrill of the fight pushing me onward.

For now, in this space between shadow and steel, my hesitation vanishes.

The silence between us grows heavier, thick with the promise of violence. I feel a predatory instinct thrumming beneath my skin, urging me forward, but I hold back, watching my opponent. They remain silent, gun poised, their gaze calculating. There's no sign of fear—only the cold confidence of someone who's studied death and learned to dance with it.

A thin smile curves my lips.

The Hollow Night has its own kind of rhythm, a pulse beneath the surface of reality, quickening as I lunge forward. In a flash, the crack of another gunshot shattered the silence. I twist mid-stride, narrowly avoiding the bullet, the air beside my face searing from the closeness. My scythe arced in retaliation. Its deadly curve swept toward their throat.

But this ‘Deadeye’ of sorts was quite quick. They drop into a roll, slipping beneath my swing, and I catch a glint of metal strapped to their belt—multiple glints, in fact. A series of devices, each one primed and ready for whatever chaos they intend to unleash. They leap up, levelling another weapon at me—a smaller, sleeker gun. This one hums ominously, a faint blue glow charging along its barrel.

I rush forward, trying to close the distance before they fire, but Deadeye presses a button on their wrist, and a small orb springs from their belt, skittering across the ground. In an instant, it detonates, releasing a blinding flash of light. I stagger back, momentarily blinded, cursing as the light burns into my vision.

A sharp pain erupts in my side, the biting cold of a bullet slicing through me. I grit my teeth, snarling, and push through the pain, summoning souls from my stock to use as sacrifices for the slow healing of my wounds and forcing my vision to clear. Deadeye stands a few paces away, gun still trained on me, the faintest hint of satisfaction present in their demeanour.

A dark, unhinged sound echoed around us, and I almost don’t recognize it as my own laughing.

Deadeye doesn’t respond. Instead, they toss another device onto the ground, and a thin line erupts between us—a tripwire, almost invisible. Clever. I could admire that, if I weren't so intent on tearing them apart in that moment.

I lunge again, this time moving erratically, a zigzag pattern to throw off their aim. Another bullet whizzes in the thin space between my left upper arm and rib, close enough that I can feel its passage. They’re quick, precise, calculating - but so am I.

I swipe my scythe low, cutting the tripwire cleanly, then dart forward as Deadeye reloads, their stance hardening. They throw something small and metallic into the air—a disk that hovers above us, projecting an array of red laser sights that track my every movement. I feel a faint prickling along my skin as the lasers fixate on me, marking me as their target.

A trap.

With a grin, I pivot, slicing my scythe through the air in a wide arc. The blade cleaves through the disk, shattering it, and the lasers flicker out. Deadeye steps back, their hand reaching for another gadget, but I’m faster. I close the distance between us in a heartbeat, swinging my scythe down with lethal intent.

They dodge, barely, the blade grazing their shoulder, sending a thick line of their essence spilling across the floor. They stumble, and for the first time, I see a flash of something in their sharp crimson eyes—something that might be fear.

It thrills me.

They scramble back, pulling out another weapon—a dagger this time, sharp and glinting. They lunge, aiming for my throat, and I parry with the shaft of my scythe, sparks flying as metal clashes against metal.

The world around us blurs, fading into the background as we exchange blows, a vicious dance of death. My heart pounds, a relentless rhythm that matches the tempo of our strikes. The movements flow from me naturally, effortlessly, as though they were etched into my bones.

The scythe sings through the air, and Deadeye barely manages to sidestep, rolling to avoid the lethal edge. They toss another grenade at my feet, but I kick it aside before it can detonate, the explosion echoing harmlessly off to the side. They’re running out of tricks, I can tell.

And I’m only getting started.

I pivot sharply, using the momentum to bring my scythe around in a deadly arc. Deadeye blocks with their dagger, but the force of the blow sends them stumbling. I press the advantage, striking again and again, forcing them back, watching as the cracks begin to show in their defense.

Finally, they falter and give in to a split-second of hesitation. It’s all I need.

In one fluid motion, I consume a sizeable chunk of my souls and feel an unspeakable strength rip through my muscles. I toss my scythe aside entirely and send a fist flying into their head. A sickening crack whips across the space as Deadeye is sent whistling like a bullet across the nightscape, and, even more surprisingly, I am following just in front of its travel path, sailing like a bullet with a strong leap.

Deadeye’s body hurtles through the air, but I’m faster. I land directly in their path, pivoting mid-air to deliver a savage kick to their midsection. They don’t even have a moment to react before my heel slams into their torso, sending them plummeting downwards with bone-shattering force. The ground buckles beneath them, cracks spider-webbing out from the point of impact as they crash down, and yet—I’m not done.

I barely feel myself touch the ground before I’m on them again, driven by the torrent of souls thrumming within me, each one adding to the bloodlust that surges through my veins like wildfire.

Deadeye manages to cough, trying to raise an arm in defense, but I’m already there, grabbing them by the collar and yanking them up like a ragdoll. Feeling a deranged grin forming on my lips, I launch them upward, sending their body careening through the air once more. I leap after them, closing the gap in an instant, and drive a knee into their back, bending their form around me in a sickening arc before hammering them downward again with both fists.

The impact splits the ground open as Deadeye’s body slams into the rubble, yet somehow, they’re still breathing, still conscious, their body a disfigured, dazed mess. I can’t help but feel a twisted sense of admiration, a brief flicker of respect for their resilience—right before I’m overcome by the urge to shatter it.

They try to rise, trembling hands gripping the ground. I’m already there. My hand closes around their head, lifting them up, savouring the way their body dangles, helpless, before I throw them forward, sending them crashing through the concrete remains of a wall. Dust and debris explode outward, and for a brief moment, everything is silent.

I tear through the haze of dust and rubble, smashing my fist into their stomach with enough force to drive them through the remains of another building. The walls crumble, collapsing in a wave of destruction that echoes through the Hollow Night like thunder. I chase after them, following the path of chaos, the thrill growing with every ruin I carve through, every blow that echoes with the finality of death.

Finally, Deadeye crashes down onto the open pavement, body broken, their essence pooling beneath them. The souls I consumed pulse within me, demanding more, urging me to savor every second of this, to take them to the absolute brink.

I descend on them with an animalistic growl, fists pummelling into their form over and over, each punch resonating with the sick, wet crunch of breaking what felt like bone and torn flesh. Deadeye’s face is a mask of agony, but I barely notice. I’m lost in the rhythm of violence, the power coursing through me, each blow feeding the insatiable thrill that has overtaken every part of me.

The ground beneath us buckles with each strike, craters forming under the relentless assault as I drive Deadeye further and further into the concrete, practically burying them alive. Their face is unrecognizable now, but still, I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop.

It’s only when the ground itself begins to crumble, threatening to give way beneath us, that I pause, panting, feeling the last flickers of their life slipping away under my hands.

My fists are dripping with bits of them, my own knuckles bruised, skin torn, yet I barely feel the pain. All I can feel is the overwhelming satisfaction, the primal, animalistic joy that settles over me in the aftermath.

I lean down, close enough to see the faint remnants of life still clinging to them, and whisper softly, almost lovingly, “Sleep.”

With one final, brutal strike, I end it, feeling the last life shudder out of their body. The familiar, silvery mist of their soul rises from the ruin that was once Deadeye, drifting toward me. I let it merge with the others, a quiet, hungry hum emanating from my scythe as it absorbs the essence, growing stronger, sharper.

I then stand upright and reach out, materializing my scythe and touching the weapon gently, feeling the faint pulse of the spirits within. I focus on a particular orange wisp near the base, a warm, lingering, almost rejuvenating glow that flickers in response to my touch. Leaning down, I whisper to it, my voice soft, almost reverent.

“I promised I’d bring you back home, child,” I murmur, feeling a strange pang of emotion—a mixture of regret and determination. “Just a little more, and we’ll be there.”

The orange glow pulses, as though acknowledging my words, and I feel a renewed sense of purpose settle over me. There’s more to do, more souls to claim, more power to gather.

The Hollow Night was far from over, and there were more souls yet to be claimed.

Fortunately, I knew just where to find some.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 63 - Mizuko Shirogetsu

Hollow Night

The battlefield is chaos.

I dart to the left, narrowly avoiding the shockwave as Daisuke slams a massive, mutated hand into the ground. The impact craters the earth, sending jagged cracks spiderwebbing outward, and I can feel the air quake with the sheer weight of his strength. He isn’t even looking at me—his attention is locked onto Nakamura, who’s now sending a blindingly fast haymaker into one of Daisuke’s legs. The gantlet bounces harmlessly against the thick, sinewy armor that now coats Daisuke’s body like a grotesque carapace.

“Keep him busy!” Cunningham’s voice snaps through the noise, his accent sharp as a whip. He surges forward from the opposite flank on all fours, his coat of flame branding scorch marks into the asphalt below.

I clench my teeth, watching as Daisuke turns toward him with the eerie, fluid movement of a predator. His glowing eyes flicker with something unholy, something entirely inhuman. For a moment, I hesitate; a single beat too long.

“Move, Yurei!!” Miharu’s voice jerks me back into motion. The distinct whoosh of her claymore cutting through the air follows as she launches herself into the fray, her weapon trailing shimmering arcs of blue and red light alike. She’s fast. Faster than me, nearly as fast as Nakamura even.

But even still, it wasn’t enough.

Daisuke catches her strike mid-air. His grotesque, oversized arm moves with unnatural precision, and the sound of her sword grinding against his monstrous claws is deafening. Kozuki doesn’t flinch, twisting her grip and spinning into a follow-up strike with her other white blade, but it doesn’t matter. With a single swipe of his free arm, he sends her flying across the battlefield. She crashes into the side of a building, creating a spray of shattered stone on impact.

I barely register her pained cry as Cunningham closes in. His claws spark like blazing knives and slash at Daisuke’s exposed midsection. For a moment, I think he’s landed a hit, but the mutated flesh ripples unnaturally, absorbing the blow like water. Daisuke turns with terrifying speed, his clawed hand sweeping low. Cunningham tries to leap back, but the strike clips his leg, sending him tumbling.

“That’s enough!” Nakamura’s voice cracks with desperation as he raises both gauntleted hands. His figure then starts to jitter and pulse as if struggling to contain all the energy he’s trying to summon. Then, he’s gone. I snap my gaze to Daisuke to find a dark orange blur rapidly circling him as he unsuccessfully swipes and claws at it.

I didn’t know the specifics of Nakamura’s ability, and I only had myself to blame for that, thanks to my actions at the start of the night. That said, even I can tell that Daisuke’s attacks were only growing more and more accurate. Nakamura couldn’t keep this up much longer.

“Fall back!” I shout, my voice sharper than I intend. Nakamura looks at me for a split-second, sweat slicking his face, but nods and scrambles backward. Cunningham is already moving, his teeth gritted. Miharu, to my relief, is pulling herself out of the rubble, though her swords tremble slightly in her grip.

The small moment of respite shatters.

Daisuke steps forward, the glow in his eyes burning brighter. His body has changed even more since the fight began. Spines and jagged protrusions jut out now from his shoulders, his arms elongated and twisted into weapons of pure destruction. The ground trembles beneath his feet as he advances, his gaze scanning each of us with cold, calculating precision.

“Together!” Cunningham growls, raising his claws again. “We hit him together—keep him off balance!”

I want to tell him that all of this is pointless. I want to tell him that no amount of coordination will change the fact that Daisuke, as he is now, is just impossibly strong. But doubt was a luxury that had long been a distant aroma at best. Miharu and Nakamura were already moving, flanking Daisuke on either side, forcing me to act.

I dart forward, freezing moisture swirling at my feet. My EXS responds to my will, the liquid coalescing into twin blades in my hands. My movements are as fluid, controlled, and deliberate as can be in a situation as turbulent as this.

As we converge, Daisuke is ready.

Nakamura zooms, aiming for Daisuke’s exposed legs. It’s a feint, meant to draw his attention low, but Daisuke doesn’t take the bait. Instead, he sidesteps with inhuman grace, his claws sweeping upward in a deadly arc. Miharu barely manages to deflect the strike with her blade, and even then, the force of the blow sends her skidding backward.

I seize the opening, closing the distance and slashing at his flank. My ice blades carve through the air, aimed for the gaps in his armor, but the moment they connect, his grotesque flesh hardens, repelling the strike. Before I can react, his tail—when did he grow a tail?—lashes out, striking me across the stomach. I’m thrown backward, the impact knocking the air from my lungs.

Pain blossoms in my ribs, but I force myself to stand, to keep moving. Kozuki is spinning in a blur of motion as she tries to outmaneuver Daisuke. Cunningham joins her, clawing in tandem, their movements synchronized. For a moment, it looks like they’re gaining ground, their combined assault forcing Daisuke to backpedal.

And then he roars.

The sound is deafening, primal, shaking me to my core. A shockwave of raw energy bursts from his body, sending all of us sprawling. I hit the ground hard, my vision swimming as I struggle to orient myself.

When I manage to push myself up, I see Daisuke standing tall, unscathed, his monstrous form silhouetted against the ruined landscape. Miharu is on her knees, coughing, both blades lying useless beside her. Cunningham is slumped against a toppled car, his breathing ragged. Nakamura is the only one still standing, his hands trembling as he gathers energy for another attack.

Daisuke growls something deep and unintelligible then, his voice distorted, guttural. Next, his glowing eyes fix on Nakamura, and he moves—faster than I can track. In an instant, he’s on him, one massive claw raised to strike.

“Nakamura!” I scream, forcing my body to move, summoning every ounce of strength I have left. To my own surprise, my ice surges forward, forming a barrier between them, but it’s too slow, too weak.

Daisuke’s claw tears through it like paper.

Time seems to slow as I watch Nakamura brace for the impact, his expression a mix of defiance and fear.

And then, at the last moment, a new shadow falls across the battlefield.

A figure steps into the fray, cloaked in a familiar blue lightning, and intercepts Daisuke’s strike with a mighty swing of motion.

The fight wasn’t over yet, and for the first time since it began, I felt the faintest flicker of hope.

“Hands off!” Junko shouts as she lashes Daisuke’s palm with her ōdachi.

Junko’s blue lightning arcs wildly, a smooth curve of power that causes Daisuke to recoil and step back. As she withdraws it, her ōdachi hums in her hand, lightning reflecting off the blade’s pristine surface as she effortlessly deflects Daisuke’s sudden next strike. The sheer force of the blow carves a trench into the ground beneath her feet, but she doesn’t waver.

Nakamura’s eyes widen and he sidles up beside her. Eiji then blinks in next to the two of them, analysing eyes locked on to Daisuke’s monstrous form. There’s an odd stillness about her, a stark contrast to the chaos around us. She is like a chess player calculating every possible move on the board. Even so, she’s in motion before Junko’s voice even begins to ring out.

“Is this… Daisuke?!” Her voice crackles, disbelieving yet sharp.

“A-Aye,” Miharu croaks, dragging herself upright. Her swords tremble slightly in her grip, but her voice doesn’t falter. "But not wholly. Something is amiss—his EXS doth run rampant!"

Junko’s eyes narrow, glowing faintly with an intensity that matches the energy sparking around her.

“Rampant or not, we’re putting him down.” She then glances my way. A look of concern as ephemeral as a flash of light appears on her visage. She turns back to the others.

“Hoshino, Ryota, you with me?”

Ryota responds by crashing his fists together while Eiji nods wordlessly. Curiously, she grips the hilt of her hammer with her non-dominant left hand, and there’s hesitation in her stance.

“We don’t have to kill him,” she says evenly, though her tone leaves little room for debate. “If he can be stopped—restrained—we do that first.”

“Fine by me,” Junko mutters, already moving.

I force myself to stand, clutching my side where Daisuke’s tail had struck me earlier. My body screams in protest, but I push the pain aside. Nakamura notices and backs up toward me, clearly worried but determined, his eyes never leaving Daisuke. Meanwhile, Cunningham pulls himself out of the wreckage of the toppled car with a grimace. Miharu stands unsteadily at my side, her swords glowing faintly.

For as much lip service as I gave about being held back by the others, this is the one moment I don’t feel completely out of my depth. I think back to the events that had transpired just tonight alone, and the folly in my thinking is already clear as day.

As we all come together to engage our common foe, I feel more powerful than ever before.

Not that Daisuke seems fazed in the slightest. If anything, the new presences of Junko and Eiji seems to fuel his bloodlust. He roars again, the sound a guttural mix of rage and distorted static, before surging forward with horrifying speed.

Junko meets him head-on. Her blade clashes against his claws, sparks and lightning erupting in an explosion of light and sound. The impact sends shockwaves rippling through the air, and I can barely keep my footing as I watch them trade blows. Junko moves like a storm given form—every strike of her odachi accompanied by arcs of electricity that scorch the ground and sear into Daisuke’s twisted flesh. But for every strike she lands, Daisuke counters with twice the ferocity. His claws slash through the air with surgical precision, forcing Junko to twist and parry with an almost inhuman level of agility.

Eiji isn’t far behind. Thanks to her light form, she moves with deceptive speed, smashing her bludgeon into Daisuke’s grotesque armor. Where Junko’s attacks are sharp, wild and electrified, Eiji’s are blunt, precise and yet devastating. Together, they manage to push Daisuke back—but only slightly.

“Let’s get in there, Shirogetsu-san!” Nakamura’s voice snaps me out of my trance. He’s already charging back into the fight, his gauntlets crackling with stored energy. Cunningham follows, his claws sparking with fire as he moves to flank Daisuke once more. Miharu and I exchange a glance, and I nod. There’s no room for hesitation.

The five of us converge on Daisuke like a pack of wolves.

Nakamura slams into him first, his gauntlets releasing in a massive blast that staggers even Daisuke. Cunningham follows, his flaming claws slashing at the exposed joints of Daisuke’s monstrous body. Miharu flips over Cunningham and leaps off of his shoulders like a trained acrobat, her blades singing through the air as she aims for Daisuke’s head. I close in from the side, my ice-blades forming mid-strike.

For a brief, exhilarating moment, we overwhelm him. Blow after blow lands, crumbling his stance and forcing him to backpedal. My blades bite into the softer gaps in his armor, Miharu’s swords carve glowing arcs across his chest, and Cunningham’s claws burn deep gashes into his side. Nakamura unleashes a devastating punch to his midsection, the force of the impact creating a shockwave that sends Daisuke skidding backwards, cracks splintering through the ground.

Just as quickly, however, the tide turns.

Daisuke roars again, the sound splitting the air like thunder. His mutated form surges with petrifying energy, and he swings both claws in an arc in the space in front. The result is a series of deep red crescents that look like red gashes in the air, sailing in a barrage and throwing all of us back—Junko and Eiji included. I hit the ground hard as the projects whoosh and whizz overhead, carving into and decapitating any object foolish enough to stand in its way. By the time I scramble to my feet, Daisuke is already back on the offensive.

“Fall back!” Junko shouts, electricity crackling wildly around her. “We need to regroup!”

“Nay.” Miharu’s voice is steady, determined. She pushes herself upright, her eyes glowing faintly. “This battle endeth now – by our hand.”

She doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, she rises to her feet and lowers her stance. The glow in her eyes intensifies, and I realize what she’s doing.

She’s predicting.

“Hold on, wait—!” Nakamura starts, but she cuts him off with a sharp gesture.

“Faith,” she says simply.

Her movements become impossibly fast, her swords a blur as she charges Daisuke head-on. It’s reckless, suicidal even—but it’s also deliberate. Every movement she makes is calculated, designed to draw Daisuke’s attention away from the rest of us. He takes the bait, focusing entirely on Miharu as she ducks and weaves around his attacks with uncanny precision.

“Now!” Miharu shouts, her voice cutting through the chaos.

Nakamura is the first to act. He slams his gauntlets together, sending a low hum of kinetic energy rippling outward.

"On me!" he calls, his voice sharp with determination. Junko darts to his side, her body shimmering with arcs of electricity that grow brighter with each step. She tightens her grip on her ōdachi.

Cunningham and I exchange a glance, and without a word, we fall into sync. He drops to all fours, fire licking at his claws as I channel a glacial chill into my ice-blades, the temperature around me plummeting sharply. Together, we move into position.

“We’ll hit him at the same time,” Nakamura says, bracing for the strike. Junko nods, the energy coiling around her blade nearly blinding now. Cunningham lets out a low growl, fire roaring to life around him, and I ready the frost that crystallizes in the air before me.

The timing must be perfect.

But before we can execute the attack, Daisuke moves faster than I can track—one moment standing at the center of our formation, the next, sending the back of a clawed hand slamming into Nakamura with the force of a cannonball. The kinetic energy building in his gauntlets disperses in an uncontrollable blast, throwing him across the battlefield like a ragdoll.

Junko raises her ōdachi in defense, but Daisuke is already there, catching the blade with his bare hand. The lightning surging through it crackles around his frame but does little to slow him down. With a violent yank, he hurls Junko aside. She tumbles across the ground, sparks flickering out as her weapon skitters away.

Cunningham and I barely have time to react before Daisuke turns to us. The fire around Cunningham flares, and I leap back to avoid the scorching heat, but it’s too late. A pulse of Daisuke’s EXS energy shatters the fragile synchronization we had built, scattering us like leaves in a storm.

So much for the perfect strike.

He roars again, his body twisting and mutating even further as he unleashes another shockwave of raw energy – but this is different. Now, I can physically see the red dome of malice expanding from him like an explosion, and we are all swept within it.

The visions that follow are just like the first time Daisuke had done this to me, only worse in every fathomable way. Images of Junko’s lifeless dangling corpse, our own bodies trampled and mutilated, horrible lamentations in my mother’s voice of how much of a failed existence I’ve lead since her passing.

The pain was more than I thought possible.

So much so that when I come to and notice Daisuke’s enlarged hand reaching for me, I can’t find the strength to fight back.

Perhaps I should preface this by mentioning how little I truly understood about my partner, Reaper. At that point in time, their presence in my life was more akin to an unanswered question. A shadow looming just beyond the edge of my comprehension.

I knew what they were:

An ally.

And I knew what they were capable of:

Violence.

But who they were? I wished then, as they seemingly materialized out of thin air and held up Daisuke’s monstrous hand with only one of their own, that I’d paid more attention.

Oh, how much suffering could have been avoided if I had just paid more attention.

Wordlessly their hood’s darkness shifted to me slowly, expectantly. After having found myself dumbstruck for several precious seconds, I eventually got the hint and scrambled backwards. A premonition of what was to come flooded my senses and immediately I knew I had to get everyone out of the vicinity – quickly, at that.

Calm as can be, Reaper cocked back their free arm and sent a fist bulleting into Daisuke’s open palm, causing a loud smack to echo across the street. The beast staggered back. There was a surprisingly startled quality about his movement then, as if he hadn’t expected any of us to be able to hit so hard.

Then came a standstill, and it felt as though time itself was holding its breath as the two of them stood, silent as stone gargoyles. Their eyes met, perhaps exchanging information unable to be conveyed through speech. The only audible sound would have been the rapid tapping of my feet on asphalt. I eventually spotted Kozuki, Hoshino, and Junko crouched behind an unnatural, jagged concrete outcropping – likely one collateral effect of our futile attempts to stop Daisuke.

“Stay low,” I whispered, lowering into a slide next to Junko. I almost winced at the mixture of emotion splayed across her face, detecting portions of exhaustion, fear, hope, and confusion all concocted into one. The faces of the other two were no different, and I imagine I wore a similar expression in that moment.

“What are they doing?” Hoshino exasperated. “If all our combined efforts didn’t stand a chance against him, what hope do they –“

Hoshino, and the Hollow Night in its entirety, gasped in response to the sudden pressure of the clash. In a flash, Daisuke’s mutated form was moving with an unnerving blend of monstrous force and deliberate cunning, his claws carving rapid, jagged furrows into the earth and sending chunks of debris hurtling in every direction.

Reaper, by contrast, was a living shadow in motion—a streak of grey energy that twisted and danced through the destruction, their now summoned scythe flashing like a serpent’s fang.

Each collision between them erupted with the force of an earthquake, shockwaves rippling outward and tearing apart what little remained of the battlefield. What had once been an urban main road was now practically a concrete clearing of demolished buildings, jagged craters, and shattered glass. The sheer scale of the destruction was mind-numbing, making the scene of my fight with Katoru look like child’s play.

Hoshino leaned heavily on her glowing hammer as blocks of destruction headed our way, her radiant light flickering faintly, but bright enough to illuminate the thin rivers of blood that had ran down her arm.

“What the hell…? Reaper’s actually holding their own,” she muttered, her voice tinged with disbelief. “They… they can really go toe-to-toe with Daisuke like this?”

“It appeareth so,” Kozuki commented, her eyes wide and breathing heavy, flinching as another spray of dirt rained over us. “But, how in the blazes would one arouse such might?”

We turned our attention back to the fight just in time to witness one of Daisuke’s claws swipe through the air, carving another massive crescent of crackling red energy that hurtled toward Reaper like a tidal wave. Without missing a beat, Reaper spun their scythe in a wide arc, the blade somehow catching the energy and dissipating it in a spray of sparks. They countered immediately, thrusting forward with their weapon as the dark energy surrounding it exploded outward in a concussive blast.

The impact sent Daisuke skidding backward, his massive feet carving trenches into the earth as he dug in to stabilize himself. He snarled, his grotesque maw curling into something that, at least to me, resembled a terrible grin.

Reaper didn’t respond to that. They rarely did. Instead, they shifted their stance, their scythe glowing faintly as the dark energy now surrounding it began to intensify. The air around them seemed to distort, as though the fabric of reality itself was bending to their will.

“They’re using his power against him,” I realized. “Of course. If we can’t beat him with our own strength…”

“Then we have to leverage his.” Junko finished right as said energy inhabited in Reaper’s scythe began to expand and coalesce, causing it to glow a dangerous crimson. “…That can’t be good.”

“DUCK!” Kozuki shouted, and then I felt Junko’s body push mine to the ground as another shockwave ripped through the clearing. Chunks of rock and splinters of glass and concrete rained down around us now, forcing Eiji to raise her hammer and create a protective dome of light.

Despite the chaos, we could never tear our eyes away from the fight.

Daisuke roared and lunged forward, bringing his claws down in a devastating double swipe. Reaper met him head-on, their scythe spinning in a blur of motion as they parried and deflected each strike with pinpoint precision. Each collision sent sparks and energy veering outward, carving even deeper scars into the already devastated landscape.

“This is insane,” Eiji said, her voice barely audible over the cacophony. “They’re going to tear each other apart – and the whole damn city while they’re at it!”

“And us too if we don’t move it,” Junko reminded, pulling Hoshino to her feet. “We need to regroup somewhere safer—”

Before she could finish, another explosion tore through the battlefield, ripping the world out from under me. The ground tilted, and my back slammed into the earth with a force that stole the breath from my lungs. My ribs screamed in protest, the pain radiating outward in sharp, searing waves. I gasped, clawing at the dirt as I scrambled to my hands and knees, my ears ringing with the echo of the blast.

That’s when I saw it: a jagged shard of metal, small but wickedly sharp, spinning toward me like a spear.

Time seemed to slow. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to move. My mind roared, Get up! Get out of the way! But something was wrong. My legs… they would not respond.

I glanced down and froze. Twisted vines, dark as shadows and pulsing faintly, had coiled themselves tightly around my ankles. Their thorned tendrils dug into my skin, drawing blood as they tightened their grip. They felt alive—malevolent and cold, like they had been waiting for me all along.

“What the hell is this—?!” I choked out, panic surging through my chest as I thrashed against the vines.

“LOOK OUT!!” Junko’s voice sliced through the chaos, raw and desperate, but it was already too late.

The shard struck.

A white-hot pain tore through my stomach, sharp and all-consuming. My body jerked backward as the impact sent me flying. The world became a spinning blur of light and shadow, the fractured battlefield stretching and distorting as though reality itself were collapsing around me. I crashed hard on my side, the force of the landing knocking what little air was left from my lungs.

For a moment, I felt nothing—only a terrible, cold stillness. Then the pain surged back, sharp and insistent, radiating from my stomach like fire spreading through my veins. I clutched at the wound instinctively, my fingers slick with blood that was already pooling beneath me. Warm. Wet. The crimson stain blossomed across my shirt, growing wider with every passing second.

The world around me began to fade. The roar of the battle, the shouts of my companions, even the distant sound of Daisuke’s monstrous growls—all of it dissolved into an eerie, deafening silence.

I tried to lift my head, to look for the others, but my vision blurred and swam. The edges of the battlefield grew darker, closing in like a curtain falling over a stage. Somewhere far away, I could hear someone screaming my name—high-pitched, frantic, like it was being dragged through water.

I couldn’t tell who it was anymore.

The vines retreating now, slithering back into the darkness as I lay bleeding. I could feel them watching, admiring, as if feeding off my pain. A faint, guttural laugh echoed behind me, low and sickly, curling around my ears like smoke.

Reaper was moving—no, growing larger in my hazy field of vision. Were they coming closer? I couldn’t tell anymore. My mind felt heavy, sluggish, as if it were sinking into the earth beneath me.

The pain was unbearable now, but even that began to ebb, replaced by a cold, creeping numbness. It was harder and harder to hold on, to make sense of what was happening.

I let my head fall back against the ground, staring up at the fractured night sky above. I closed my eyes to the world, to the chaos, to the sound of that quiet, haunting, malevolent laughter that faded like a twisted lullaby into the distance. Something green was standing over me.

I didn’t want it to end here. Not like this. But I was so tired.

ｓｏ，　ｓｏ　ｔｉｒｅｄ．

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 64 - Junko Shirogetsu

Hollow Night

The battlefield was chaos, but now, it’s silent.

Reaper and Daisuke were painting the world in blazes of fire and fury, but the sounds of their violence started to grow distant, like the echoes bouncing off the walls of some faraway place. The ground shook beneath my feet, and debris rained down on us like the sky itself had shattered - but none of that mattered.

All I could see was her.

She was laying across the cracked ground, her body frighteningly still, with blood pooling beneath her like spilled ink. My heart stopped in my chest. Everything else—the fight, the danger, even the scorching heat from the blasts tearing the Night apart ceased to exist. My sister was down.

“No, no, no,” I whispered, my breath catching in my throat as panic clawed at me. “Sis…”

My legs were already moving, carrying me forward as fast as they could. I barely noticed the sharp pain in my muscles or the pounding in my head from the shockwaves rattling my skull. All I could think about was reaching her.

I called for her. My voice cracked, raw and desperate, as though saying her name loudly enough would somehow wake her up.

A blur of movement caught my eye—Rusuban, sprinting toward Mizuko faster than I could. His cloak billowed behind him, and his face was a mask of terror. He dropped to his knees beside Mizuko, hands trembling as he reached for her.

“She’s hurt! She’s—she’s bleeding! Someone help!” His voice cracked in a way I’d never heard before, frantic and desperate. It made my chest tighten.

I didn’t question it. I didn’t have the presence of mind to wonder why Rusuban, who hadn’t come to help us when we were being hunted all this time as promised, and who had been suspiciously absent from our team’s recent effort against Daisuke, was suddenly frantic for my sister’s life. At that moment, I didn’t care. All I knew was that Mizuko needed help, and he was already there.

The ground shook again, and the roar of Daisuke’s fury rumbled through the air like distant thunder. I turned my head just in time to see Reaper darting toward Mizuko, their grey and white cloak eddying like smoke, figure cutting through the battlefield like a knife. I detected something new in their body language; they were frantic. Desperate, even.

And they had every right to be. If Mizuko died, so would they.

“Stay back!” Rusuban screamed. For some reason, he was terrified of Reaper’s approach, his voice trembling as he shielded himself with his arms. Another crimson red flag I didn’t notice until it was too late. Still, Reaper wasn’t listening. They didn’t hesitate, didn’t stop.

But Daisuke wouldn’t let them go.

With a roar that shook the air, his massive, mutated arm swung out, claws trailing blood red arcs through the air. Reaper barely managed to dodge, twisting their body mid-stride. The momentum sent them skidding to the side, and before they could recover, Daisuke was on them again, his monstrous claws slamming into the ground where Reaper had just been.

I didn’t have time to think about them, though. My focus snapped back to Mizuko. I ran faster, ignoring the pain in my legs and the fire in my lungs. I didn’t care about the debris barrelling down around me or the quakes rattling the battlefield apart.

Then, without warning, a massive chunk of stone, dislodged by the battle, came hurtling toward me.

I froze, my instincts screaming at me to move, but I wasn’t fast enough. The shadow of the debris loomed above me, and I knew I wouldn’t make it.

“WATCH OUT!”

A blur of flame streaked past me, and suddenly, the heat of the stone was gone. Cunningham crashed down in front of me, his claws catching the debris and tossing it aside with a sharp grunt. His coat flared, fire now licking at its edges as he straightened, turning back to me.

“You’re going to get yourself killed!” he snapped, his voice edged with concern.

“Cunningham, I—” My voice broke. I couldn’t even finish the sentence.

He didn’t wait for me to explain. His sharp eyes had already followed my line of sight to Mizuko. Without another word, he grabbed me by the arm and leaped, dragging me with him toward her.

The ground blurred beneath us, and the next thing I knew, we were landing hard beside Kinoko and Mizuko. Kinoko’s hands were pressed against Mizuko’s wound, trembling as he tried to stem the bleeding. A sharp metal splinter, with its tip washed in red, lay by the side.

I could feel tears streak my face, my voice shaking as I kept muttering,

“Stay with me, sis, please…! Please, stay with me.”

I fell to my knees beside her, my hands hovering uselessly over her body. I didn’t know what to do—didn’t know how to help. All I could see was the blood, so much of it, staining her clothes, her hands, the ground beneath her.

“What happened?!” Cunningham demanded, his voice sharp as he crouched beside us.

“I—I don’t know!” Kinoko stammered, his voice cracking. “She—there was debris, and this thing came flying at her—and—” His words dissolved into a choked sob.

My mind spun, trying to make sense of what he’d said, but the details didn’t matter. Mizuko was hurt—dying—and I couldn’t stop it.

My hands hovered over her wound, trembling as I struggled to think of something—anything—I could do.

“Sis,” I whispered, tears spilling down my cheeks as I leaned closer to her. Her face was pale, her breathing shallow, but her eyes fluttered open for a brief moment. She looked at me, her gaze hazy and unfocused.

“J-Junko…” Her voice was barely audible, a fragile whisper that shattered something deep inside me.

“I’m here,” I choked out, gripping her hand tightly. “I’m right here. You’re going to be okay. Just hold on, okay? Please, just hold on.”

She didn’t respond. Her eyes slipped shut again.

“No, no, no—stay with me!” I shook her gently, my voice cracking as panic clawed at my chest. “Mizuko, don’t you dare leave me! Don’t you—”

The rest of my words dissolved into a sob just as Cunningham’s head shot up as if remembering something. He de-transformed and reached into his blazer, pulling out a glowing object I didn’t recognize at first.

“Here, Shirogetsu-san…!” Cunningham’s hand trembled slightly as he lowered the small, glowing orb. The faint golden light that radiated from it painted his face in an otherworldly glow, and for a fleeting moment, hope flared in my chest.

I didn’t know where he’d gotten it – and frankly didn’t care. What mattered was that it was moving toward Mizuko with purpose, the orb casting shimmering, rippling waves of light over her bloodied body. I leaned closer, clutching my sister’s hand even tighter as the glow seemed to pulse in rhythm with her shallow breaths.

And then, out of nowhere, it was gone.

The orb jerked out of Cunningham’s hands as if snatched by some invisible force. He lunged after it, but too late—it sailed through the air and into the waiting grasp of a slender, pale vine that coiled around it like a serpent.

“What the hell—?!” Cunningham growled, spinning to track it.

The vine slithered backward, retracting like a fishing line being reeled in. My heart dropped as I followed its path, my breath catching when it landed in the hand of none other than Kinoko Rusuban.

“No…” I whispered, dread crashing over me like a wave.

Kinoko stood just a few feet away, the vine retreating into his sleeve as though it had never existed. He grinned, sharp and predatory, holding the orb aloft like a trophy. His once-panicked demeanour had melted away entirely, replaced by something cold, calculating, and deeply unnerving.

“You—” Cunningham’s voice was a low snarl as flames flickered at the edges of his form. “What are you doing, Rusuban?!”

Kinoko tilted his head slightly, the grin widening into something utterly devoid of remorse.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he said lightly, as if this were all some kind of stupid game.

“Give it back! NOW!” I screamed, stumbling to my feet despite the weakness in my legs. My hands trembled with rage, but Kinoko only chuckled.

“Give it back?” he echoed, his voice dripping with mockery. “Why would I do that, Junko? This little trinket...” He held the orb up, its golden light reflecting in his dark eyes. “It’s far too valuable to waste on someone that isn’t me.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. My vision blurred with fury as I took a step toward him, but Cunningham held out an arm, stopping me in my tracks.

“Why would you do this?” Cunningham demanded, his voice cold and biting. “We were fighting to protect you, fool! To fix your mistake!”

The last part was lost on me. Was Rusuban responsible for Daisuke’s… condition?

Kinoko’s laughter was sharp, almost hysterical, and it sent a shiver down my spine.

“Oh, Cunningham. Still clinging to those ridiculous notions of loyalty, are we? How quaint.” He turned the orb over in his hands, the light from it growing dimmer as his own aura seemed to grow stronger. “Did you think I’d halt my progress just because you happened to be dealing with a problem of mine for me? Hardly. Besides, Mizuko wasn’t my ally. She was a resource - same as all of you.”

The words didn’t make sense. My fists clenched, my nails digging into my palms as I intensely struggled to keep my composure. “What are you even talking about, asshole?!”

Kinoko turned his gaze to me, his grin widening even further.

“Didn’t Juno tell you? Oh, wait—you weren’t in the know, were you?” His tone was mocking, his eyes gleaming with twisted amusement. “At the start of the night, Juno made something very clear: any player who eliminates the target pairing themselves gets double the EXS reward for themselves, and their partners.”

My stomach dropped.

“No…” I whispered, shaking my head. “You’re lying.”

Kinoko’s expression didn’t falter. “Am I?”

I turned, desperate for some kind of confirmation, and found Eiji and Miharu standing nearby. They’d arrived unnoticed in the chaos, their faces pale as they took in the scene. My gaze locked with Miharu’s, and I saw it—the guilt, the apology, the shame.

“Kozuki...” My voice cracked as the truth sank in.

She looked away.

Eiji stepped forward, her hammer in hand, but her voice was hesitant.

“It’s true, Junko,” she said quietly.“ Juno made the offer. Mizuko was part of the reward system because she was helping the two of you.”

I staggered back as if I’d been struck, the weight of the revelation crashing down on me. Mizuko wasn’t just a victim of circumstance—she’d been hunted. Targeted.

“You…” My voice trembled as I turned back to Kinoko. “You were planning this from the start.”

Kinoko’s grin didn’t falter.

“Of course I was. Why else would I waste my time with the rest of you?” He gestured to Mizuko’s limp form with a casual wave. “The three of you were the key to everything. And now...” He held the orb closer to his chest, his aura darkening as it seemed to absorb the last of its light.

“Thanks to this little beauty, I don’t need you peasants anymore.”

My heart raced as I watched him, a strange, almost imperceptible glow beginning to emanate from his body. He tilted his head back, exhaling deeply as the orb dissolved into pure blindingly bright energy, merging with him entirely.

“What did you do…?!” Cunningham demanded, his voice rising with anger as his gaze flicked between Rusuban and Mizuko.

Kinoko lowered his head slowly, his grin now tinged with something far more sinister.

“Good question,” He spread his arms wide, the faint glow radiating from his body intensifying for a moment before settling into something darker, subtler. “Let’s just say... I’ve unlocked a whole new world of possibilities.”

Before anyone could react, Kinoko raised a hand and snapped his fingers. A faint, almost imperceptible green mist began to spread from his body, dispersing into the air like smoke. It was so fine, so delicate, that it would have been easy to miss if not for the subtle shimmer that accompanied it.

“Arthur, what the hell is that?” I asked, panic rising in my chest as I instinctively covered my mouth and nose.

Kinoko only smiled. “Oh, just a little insurance. You’ll see soon enough.”

The world around us seemed to hold its breath, the chaos of the battlefield—Daisuke and Reaper’s devastating fight, the smoldering debris, the faint shimmer of Kinoko’s mist—all of it reduced to background noise.

My hand still clutched Mizuko’s, and I could feel the faintest pulse of her life ebbing away with each passing second.

“Junko,” Arthur murmured, his voice low and steady beside me. It wasn’t a question, nor was it hesitation. Just my name, spoken as if it carried a weight only we could understand.

I didn’t respond. Instead, I turned my gaze to Kinoko Rusuban, who still stood a few yards away, his cocky grin twisting into something far darker. He was relishing this. Relishing the power he’d stolen, the chaos he’d unleashed, the misery he’d caused. And Mizuko—my Mizuko—lay dying because of him.

Arthur and I didn’t need words to communicate what had to happen next.

I felt the shift in his presence beside me, his unspoken agreement, the unyielding resolve settling over him like a steel blade unsheathing. My own resolve mirrored his, a storm of fury and purpose coiling inside me, threatening to burst. Slowly, I rose to my feet, ignoring the tremble in my legs as I stared down at my sister. Her breath was ragged, faint, her chest barely rising with each laboured inhale. Her hand was still warm, but not for long.

I crouched beside her, brushing a stray strand of hair from her bloodied face.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice breaking as I placed a hand just above the wound. My fingers sparked faintly, the crackle of electricity humming through my body as I focused the energy into a thin, concentrated line. Mizuko’s body jerked weakly as the charge coursed through her, the blood at the wound bubbling and hissing as it cauterized under the heat. The stench of burning flesh filled the air, but I forced myself to continue, ignoring the sick feeling in my stomach.

When it was done, I exhaled shakily, wiping sweat from my brow. Mizuko’s breathing steadied slightly—not enough to save her, but enough to buy us time.

“Eiji,” I said sharply, my voice cutting through the haze of emotions threatening to overtake me. “Watch her. Don’t let anyone near her.”

Eiji nodded, her expression grim as she tightened her grip on her hammer. “You can count on me.”

I rose, turning to Miharu, who stood a few feet away, her face pale but her eyes wary. She’d heard everything. She must have realized what we were about to do.

“Miharu,” I said flatly, my voice cold and unyielding. “I’m going to kill him. I trust you know what that means.”

Her breath hitched, but she didn’t falter. Her hand drifted to her side, where her claymore hung, and her eyes hardened with quiet determination.

“Thou canst not.”

“I can,” I said, stepping closer and looking her dead in the eye. “And I will.”

Miharu’s shoulders tensed, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“If you dispatch Cordyceps - under the statutes of this realm, I shall perish also.”

I stared at her, unblinking, my expression devoid of hesitation.

“…Then I guess you’d better stop me.”

The moment hung in the air like a drawn bowstring, tension crackling between us.

Eventually, as expected, she lunged.

Her blade whistled through the air, arcing toward my back in a flash of silver. But I’d seen it coming. My reflexes took over, and I spun, catching the blade with the edge of my electrified wrist guard. Sparks flew as the metal screeched against the charge, and Miharu’s eyes widened in shock.

I didn’t hesitate. Twisting her blade aside, I lashed out with a precise kick to her wrist, forcing her to release the weapon. It clattered to the ground as she staggered back, clutching her arm.

“You knew this would happen,” I said coolly, my voice devoid of sympathy. “You. Knew.”

Before Miharu could recover, I turned to Arthur, who had already begun moving toward Kinoko. The determination in his eyes was like a blazing inferno, and I felt a grim satisfaction knowing he’d finish what I couldn’t.

“Arthur,” I called out, never breaking stride as I stepped past him, toward Miharu, who was already reaching for her blade. “Take care of him. I’ll keep the redhead busy.”

Arthur didn’t respond with words—he didn’t need to. His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword, and in a single, fluid motion, he charged toward Kinoko.

Kinoko’s grin faltered slightly as Arthur closed the distance between them with startling speed.

“Oh, I’ve been waiting for this,” Kinoko sneered, raising his hand to summon more of the twisted vines that seemed to obey his every command. “Do try to keep up, dog.”

The ground erupted as the vines shot toward Arthur, but he was ready. His claws sparked with a brilliant, fiery light as he slashed through the vines with ease, the sheer force of his movements shaking the air around him. The look on his face was pure, unbridled fury.

I didn’t look back. My focus was on Miharu now, who had retrieved her blade and was circling me cautiously. I could see the conflict in her eyes, the hesitation, the guilt. But none of that mattered.

"Thou need'st not take this path," Miharu said, her voice shaking slightly. "The power of Cordyceps—he is not one thou canst simply—"

“Shut up,” I snapped, my voice cold and unforgiving. “You chose to protect him, Kozuki. You chose this. Now deal with the consequences already.”

Miharu gritted her teeth, raising her blade as lightning crackled around my fists. I could feel the rage coursing through me, electrifying every nerve in my body.

Mizuko’s face flashed in my mind—her pale, bloodied face, her labored breaths. Kinoko’s laughter echoed in my ears, fueling the storm inside me.

This had stopped being a fight a long time ago - this was justice.

And tonight, I was being called to deliver it.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 65 - Ryota Nakamura

Hollow Night

The whole world was going to hell.

Explosions were blasting off like fireworks at a demolition derby, the sky was clogged with smoke and ash, and every breath felt like I was choking on a lungful of dust. I crouched behind what was left of some wall—well, more like a pile of rubble now—my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. My chest was heaving, my legs were shaking, and my brain was absolutely fried.

The others were out there somewhere. Fighting. Bleeding. Maybe dying. And here I was—hiding behind a wall like some useless benchwarmer who got shoved into the game without knowing the damn rules.

What the hell was I supposed to do?

I’d been useless ever since Reaper showed up. Daisuke and them went full nuclear on each other, tearing up everything in their path like a pair of titans out of some monster movie. Every punch, every explosion—they turned the whole area into this terrifying warzone where even breathing felt dangerous. I couldn’t get anywhere near it. Just standing close to the shockwaves made me feel like my bones were gonna crack apart.

Everyone else was scattered. Eiji was with Mizuko, Junko was somewhere with Kozuki, and Arthur was chasing after the second-year rep who’d bolted. And me? I was here. Stuck. Doing jack-all while everything went up in flames.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms.

C’mon, dude. Think. You’ve gotta think your way outta this mess.

…Yeah, my mind had officially checked out by that point. Every time I tried to come up with something, I just kept circling back to the same thought: You’re useless.

Then I heard it—a shout. Distant, but loud enough to cut through all the noise and chaos.

My head snapped up, my heartbeat speeding up. It wasn’t coming from Daisuke and Reaper’s direction—it was further out. Somewhere behind the wrecked buildings.

I hesitated, glancing back toward the destruction. The smart thing to do? Stay put. But that shout... something about it didn’t let me stay frozen. It sounded desperate, like someone barely hanging on.

Before I could talk myself out of it, my legs were moving.

I followed the sound, weaving through debris and smoke, until I found them.

It was a kid I vaguely recognized. One of the scary ones who’d gotten busted for smoking in the bathrooms last week. Liu something? Katoru? Whatever. I didn’t know his name, but I knew the look on his face—like someone who’d been through hell and barely made it out.

He was slumped against the wall of a narrow alley, his face pale as a sheet, his body shaking like a leaf in a storm. His shirt was soaked in blood and sweat, and honestly, he looked like he’d been hit by a train.

Next to him was... well, something. A dark, flickering shadow. Like a ghost, but not the kind you see in movies. This one felt wrong—twisted, and dangerous in a way I couldn’t quite explain. It was hunched over, its shape barely holding together, but even like that, I felt a pit open in my stomach. It was the same kind of energy I’d felt from Daisuke.

I skidded to a stop, my eyes darting between Liu and the shadow thing. “What the hell—what’s happening to you?”

Liu’s head lifted at the sound of my voice, his bloodshot eyes locking onto mine.

“Qui...ck,” he croaked.

My gut twisted. I ran to his side, crouching down. “Dude, what’s going on? Are you dying? Do I call for help? What do I do?”

The shadow thing groaned, its voice weird and distorted, like it was coming from the bottom of a well.

“Liu and I... need to... get to... Daisuke.”

Daisuke? I stared at the shadow, then back at Liu. Was this thing... talking for him?

“No way,” I blurted. “You’re not serious, are you? You wanna go to Daisuke? Like, the dude who’s currently leveling half the city?”

Liu’s hand twitched, grabbing weakly at my arm. “Listen, dumbass,” he muttered, his voice rough but gaining a little strength. “We... don’t have a choice.”

I blinked. Did this guy just call me a dumbass while he was actively bleeding out? “You’ve gotta be kidding me. Daisuke’s gone full psycho. You haven’t seen him—you’d get obliterated in two seconds flat.”

His grip tightened, surprising me. For someone who looked like they were on death’s door, he was weirdly strong.

“We don’t... have time,” Liu rasped, his voice cracking. “If you don’t... take us... we’re dead anyway.”

The shadow groaned again, its voice filled with raw desperation. “Help... us...”

I hesitated. Every instinct I had was screaming at me to walk away. To tell them they were crazy and leave them here. Taking them to Daisuke was practically a suicide mission.

But the look in Liu’s eyes stopped me cold.

There was something there—something that wasn’t just desperation or fear. It was determination. Pure, unshakable resolve. Whatever his reasons, whatever his plan, he’d already made up his mind.

I let out a long, frustrated sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Fine,” I muttered. “But if we die, I’m haunting your ass.”

Liu’s lips twitched into the faintest smirk. “Fair... enough.”

Liu was way lighter than I expected. I slung him onto my back, trying to keep him steady. He was all limp and shaky, like a soda bottle someone had shaken too hard but hadn’t cracked open yet. And that weird shadow-creature of his stuck close behind us, its body flickering and pulsing like it could break apart any second. The thing gave me the creeps, but I tried to focus.

“Hold on,” I muttered, more to myself than to him, as I broke into a sprint.

Everything around us was a blur of ash and rubble as I ran. My legs burned, but I pushed harder, weaving through all the wreckage like my life depended on it—because it probably did. The air got thicker and hotter with every step, that suffocating pressure that could only mean we were getting closer to Daisuke. The sounds of their fight were louder now, like the world’s most violent thunderstorm was just ahead: explosions, grinding metal, earth-shaking booms.

“What’s the plan here?” I yelled over my shoulder, trying to keep my voice steady while dodging what looked like the remains of someone’s roof. “You wanna get closer to him? That’s your big idea? Seriously, what the hell do you think you’re gonna do?!”

For a second, I thought he wouldn’t answer. But then, his voice rasped in my ear, quiet but steady.

“He’s still in there,” Liu said, his words broken up by shallow breaths. “No matter what he’s done… no matter what he’s become… he’s still Daisuke. And I gotta remind him of that… after I beat the living shit outta him.”

I almost tripped right there. “You’re kidding me, right?” I snapped, shaking my head. “Dude, he’s gone. Like, completely gone. You didn’t see what he did to us. You’re gonna remind him by what? Getting yourself killed?”

Liu didn’t respond. Didn’t argue. He just stayed quiet, his grip on my shoulder tightening.

And I don’t know—maybe it was the way he said it. Or maybe it was just how his voice sounded, like he’d already made peace with the fact that this whole thing was insane. But something about it made me shut up and keep moving.

We were close now. Too close, probably. The flashes of light were blinding, the explosions so loud I could feel them in my ribs. I skidded to a stop just outside what looked like the epicenter of all the chaos. My lungs burned as I gasped for air, and I felt Liu start to slip off my back.

“This is it,” he wheezed, sliding to the ground.

I stared at him, still trying to catch my breath. “You’re genuinely crazy,” I muttered. “You know that, right?”

He just gave me this weak smile, and I got the feeling it wasn’t the first time somebody’d called him that.

“Tainted,” Liu rasped, tilting his head toward the shadow-thing.

At first, it didn’t respond. It just kind of hovered there, its weird, flickering form locking into this tight, coiled-up shape like it was bracing for something big. Then, like it’d been waiting for Liu to speak, it sprang to life. Its twisted, shadowy limbs reached out, grabbing Liu with this weird kind of gentleness that didn’t match how terrifying it looked.

And then—out of nowhere—it hurled him into the air.

“What the hell?!” I yelled, taking a step forward, but the battlefield swallowed my voice.

Liu shot up like a rocket, his body a tiny speck against the chaos in front of us. Daisuke and Reaper didn’t even notice him at first—they were still trying to tear each other apart, their blows ripping through buildings like they were made of jenga blocks. For a second, I thought Liu was gonna get vaporized before he even got close.

And then, it happened.

Liu let it all out.

The energy—or whatever the hell it was—that had been eating him alive this whole time exploded outward in a flash so bright I had to shield my eyes. When I looked back, it wasn’t just light anymore. It was this swirling, inky darkness, and it was all getting sucked into Tainted.

The thing screeched, this bone-rattling noise that wasn’t pain—it was triumph. The energy engulfed it, warping its already freaky body. Its limbs stretched, twisting into these jagged, razor-sharp shapes. Its shadowy body grew taller and bulkier, its edges so sharp they looked like they could cut through steel. Eyes—dozens of them—opened all over it, glowing with this eerie, otherworldly light.

And at the center of all of it, barely visible but still there, was Liu.

He wasn’t just with the thing anymore—he was inside it, controlling it, wearing it like some kind of twisted armor.

He’d turned himself into another freaking nightmare.

“Hey, buddy!” Liu’s voice boomed, sounding pretty rejuvinated and amplified by the creature’s monstrous size. It wasn’t just him talking—it was him and Tainted, their voices overlapping like some kind of unholy choir. “How about we get that rematch in?!”

Before I could even process what I was seeing, the nightmare-Tainted lunged.

Its massive, warped fist shot out like a wrecking ball, slamming straight into Daisuke with this earth-shattering CRUNCH.

Daisuke didn’t just stumble back—he flew. His body shot through the air like a missile, crashing through what was left of a skyscraper before disappearing into the distance. The impact was so loud it made my ears ring, and a cloud of smoke rose where he landed, way out of sight.

For a second, everything went still. Even Reaper stopped, mid-swing, to watch the aftermath.

Then, the nightmare-Tainted let out this guttural roar that shook the ground beneath me. It didn’t hesitate, didn’t even stop to check the damage—it just charged, its massive limbs propelling it toward where Daisuke had landed.

It didn’t even look back.

I thought Reaper would follow. I mean, that was their whole deal, wasn’t it? Their beef with Daisuke had taken everything to the next level in the first place. They’d been going at it like gods or whatever, wrecking everything in their path. But the second the nightmare-Tainted launched itself after Daisuke, Reaper just… stopped.

They froze in place, perfectly still, like a damn statue. Their head tilted slightly, like they were tuning into some freaky station the rest of us couldn’t hear.

Then they bolted.

“Wait—what?!” I blurted, my voice cracking as I watched them shoot off like a bullet… in the opposite direction.

Not toward Daisuke. Not after Liu and his monster. No, they were hauling ass somewhere else entirely.

“The others,” I whispered, and my stomach twisted into knots.

Reaper didn’t move like someone running for their life or even someone chasing after a moving target. No, it was worse. They ran like they knew exactly what they were doing—like they had some exact, horrible plan in mind and weren’t wasting a single second getting to it.

It hit me like a hammer. Whatever they were up to? It was bad. Bad enough to make my body react before my brain could catch up.

My legs just went, sprinting after them like I didn’t care about the burn in my muscles or the pounding in my chest. All I could feel was this growing, suffocating dread, the kind that made it hard to breathe, hard to think.

“What the hell are you up to, Reaper?” I muttered, my voice raw, my teeth gritted. My brain was spinning, trying to make sense of it. They’d been so laser-focused on Daisuke—hell, they’d practically been frothing at the mouth to put him down, judging by the ferocity of their fighting.

And now, they’d just dropped it. Dropped him.

That didn’t sit right. None of it did.

I tore through the wreckage, the battlefield around me buzzing with leftover energy that made the hair on my arms stand on end. The air still felt heavy, but something about it was different now.

That was when I saw them.

Arthur and Rusuban were still duking it out in the distance. Rusuban zipped around on some concrete platform he was levitating with those creepy vines of his, shooting attacks at Arthur like it was target practice. Arthur was barely holding his ground, ducking and weaving to avoid getting turned into mulch.

And of course, the 2nd-year-rep was cackling like a total psycho while Arthur struggled to keep up.

But Reaper - Reaper was heading straight for them.

My gut sank.

I didn’t know what I expected Reaper to do when they got there. Maybe take a shot at Kinoko for being an annoying little shit. Maybe blow everyone up just because they could.

But whatever I thought was gonna happen, it wasn’t this.

The closer I got, the worse that oppressive, suffocating feeling became. It pressed down on me harder with every step, heavier than anything I’d felt before—even heavier than Daisuke’s crazy energy. And that was when it hit me like a brick to the face.

All this time, that feeling hadn't been Daisuke. It hadn't even been Liu.

It was coming from Reaper.

My throat tightened.

They weren’t even bothering to be subtle. No sneaky movements, no playing coy. They were making a straight shot for Kinoko and Arthur’s fight, and the way they moved was freaking terrifying – way too damn calculated.

I gritted my teeth and pushed harder, ignoring the fire in my legs, ignoring the way my lungs screamed for air. I had to stop them. I didn’t know how, I didn’t know what I’d even do if I caught up, but I couldn’t let them get there first.

The glow started next. Faint at first, just a flicker of green in the edges of their hood. But as I got closer, it grew brighter, more intense, until it was spilling out of them like they couldn’t keep it contained anymore.

It felt wrong. That glow—whatever it was—felt like poison, like something that was going to ruin everything the second it was let loose.

“Reaper!” I yelled, even though I knew they wouldn’t stop. “What the hell are you doing?!”

No response. They just kept moving, faster than I could ever hope to match, their feet barely touching the ground as they darted between the wreckage.

The worst part was, deep down, I already knew. I didn’t know the details, didn’t know the why or the how, but some instinct in me knew.

I was too late.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 66 - Miharu Kozuki

Hollow Night

The stage is set.

The air hums with chaos and bloodlust, an undercurrent of violence threading through the cacophony of clashing steel and desperate shouts. Above it all hangs the faint echoes of fractured alliances and forgotten promises, playing a cruel melody in the dark—a harmony of despair and inevitability.

It is here, in the shadow of conflict, that I stand. Red. The warrior who strides boldly into the Hollow Night with purpose in her heart and fire in her veins. A hero, a symbol, a sword in the service of destiny.

But tonight, I feel the mask begin to slip.

Each step I take reverberates like the beat of a drum. My feet move forward, automatic and unerring, but my mind drags behind, weighed down by thoughts that refuse to stay buried. The battlefield shifts and churns around me, a sea of shadows and half-glimpsed faces locked in violent struggle.

Somewhere in that chaos are Mizuko and Daisuke—victims of a war I didn’t know I was fighting until it was already too late.

I should be focused. My mission is clear. The script unfolds in my mind, its intricate lines weaving themselves into an unshakable sequence. But tonight, the edges of it feel blurred, distorted. My thoughts rebel against its constraints, daring to wander to places they don’t belong.

Red.

The name tastes wrong on my tongue, sour and metallic, like blood. My inner voice—the one I’ve carefully silenced—dares to whisper another name instead.

...Miharu?

No.

Not here.

Not now.

Miharu doesn’t belong on this stage. Miharu is a ghost, a shadow that exists only beyond the bounds of this performance. She is the girl who flinches at raised voices, who hides from the weight of expectation, who trembles under the crushing gaze of her own failures.

Red is fearless, I remind myself. Red is bold and unrelenting. Red slays her doubts as easily as she slays her enemies. I chose to be her because Miharu was weak, because Miharu was never enough.

So then why does Miharu’s voice cry out like so tonight?

Ahead of me, cutting through the swirling chaos like a beacon, stands Kumo.

Her presence is like a sudden downpour—raw and electric, her aura sparking with an unyielding ferocity. The storm is all-consuming, drawing the battlefield into her orbit. It isn’t just power I feel radiating from her. It’s conviction, as solid and immovable as the ground beneath us.

Her eyes, the mouldering coals of resolve they are, lock onto mine, pinning me in place as if I were the sole villain in her story.

And perhaps, I begin to realize, I am.

Behind her, the chaos of the battlefield fades, the noise retreating into the periphery like a backdrop fading into the dark. There is only Kumo now. Only me. Our confrontation is the inevitable climax of this scene, the kind of moment the Hollow Night seems to revel in—a meeting of opposing forces, their clash destined to leave one standing and the other broken.

But tonight, the script—my script—wavers.

It begins to write itself in that familiar, haunting style, the words materializing in my mind like an ironclad prophecy:

“Kumo steps forward, unyielding. Her weapon arcs through the air in a clean, decisive strike.”

[Perform a side-step to evade her path.]

The command is as clear as ever, the voice in my mind as cold and detached as a surgeon mid-operation. Before her weapon even leaves her side, I see its trajectory play out in my mind’s eye, a perfectly choreographed sequence. My body moves in response, rehearsed and automatic, slipping just out of the weapon’s reach.

The motion is precise. Effortless. It should feel satisfying. But it doesn’t.

“Kumo pivots, releasing a second strike aimed to corner you.”

[Parry the strike.]

My blade moves instinctively, meeting hers with a resounding clash. The impact jars my arms, sending a sharp vibration up to my shoulders, but still the motion is practiced, calculated. The blade redirects hers just enough to keep me unscathed.

“You’re a ghost,” Kumo says, her voice cutting through the air sharper than her weapon. “You’re not even here.”

I falter.

Her words seem to hit something I didn’t know was fragile, cracking it open with brutal precision.

“I don’t have to be,” I reply, my voice a carefully measured mask of control. But even as I speak, something inside me shifts uneasily.

“Why?” she asks, and there’s a sharp edge to her tone—raw and demanding. “Why, Miharu?!”

My name falls from her lips like an accusation, a blade aimed directly at the heart of my facade. The sound of it reverberates in my skull, tearing at the seams of the identity I’ve so carefully stitched together.

I am Miharu, trembling and unsure.
I am Red, bold and unrelenting.
And yet, part of me yearns to be neither.

“Don’t call me that,” I snap, the words lashing out before I can stop them. My voice is harsher than I intended, brittle with something dangerously close to fear.

I lunge forward, my blade slicing through the air in a practiced crescent. The motion is flawless, a move I’ve performed countless times before. But tonight, my hands feel clumsy, uncooperative. The swing is a fraction too slow, the edge of my blade missing the precision it demands.

“Kumo blocks your strike with ease. She presses forward, her strength pushing you back.”

[Shift into a defensive stance and block the counter.]

The prediction unfolds before my eyes. Kumo’s blade is relentless, her strikes coming down like thunderclaps. I move to intercept, but the impact feels heavier than usual, my arms trembling under the weight of her assault.

“You’re letting him control you,” she says, her voice low but steady. Her words slip through the chaos, finding me even as I fight to keep my focus. “You think Rusuban cares about you? About any of us?”

The sound of his name is like a spark to dry kindling. For a moment, the battlefield around me seems to flicker, as if the Hollow Night itself is holding its breath.

“You don’t know anything,” I hiss through gritted teeth, the edge of my blade catching hers in a shower of sparks.

But my defiance feels as hollow as it sounds in my ears.

“Kumo breaks through your guard.”

This time, there are no words of guidance to save me. The pain blossoms sharp and immediate as her blade cuts across my ribs. My breath hitches, and I stagger back, clutching at the wound.

She doesn’t press the attack. She doesn’t need to. Her eyes remain locked on mine, unwavering in their resolve.

“You’re not Red,” she says, and her voice cuts deeper than her blade ever could. “Not really. You’re just Miharu, scared and running. You always have been, and you always will be.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and unrelenting. For a moment, it feels as though the Hollow Night itself has gone still, the chaos around us dimming to nothing more than a dull, distant echo.

She’s wrong. She has to be.

Red is fearless, I remind myself, a creature of purpose and fire. Red doesn’t waver, doesn’t doubt. Red is who I am, who I chose to be.

But then why does Miharu’s voice echo so loudly in my mind?

“Stop it,” I whisper, the words escaping before I realize they’re aloud. My voice is faint, almost lost in the din of the Hollow Night. It’s not meant for Kumo. It’s meant for myself, a desperate plea to silence the part of me I thought I’d buried. “Just stop.”

Kumo doesn’t stop. She steps forward, each movement deliberate, her weapon poised like the strike of an oncoming storm. Her presence alone is enough to suffocate, pressing down on me with its sheer weight.

“If you want to be this ‘Red’ so badly,” she says, her voice unwavering, “then fight me like she would. Stop hiding behind him.”

Behind him. Rusuban.

The name lands like a blow to my chest, and I feel the cracks in my resolve widen.

Cordyceps’ voice lingers in my mind, as it always does. It’s soothing and commanding at once, a melody that once felt like salvation. He gave me this identity. This power. He told me who I could be, who I should be. With him, I could leave Miharu behind and become something greater—someone greater.

But tonight, his voice feels hollow. Distant. A whisper drowned out by the roar of my doubts.

“Kumo approaches again, looking to strike.”

The stage directions are clear, their commands etched into my mind like they always are. I can see the scene play out before it happens—the flash of her blade, the sharp clash of steel, the inevitable moment of impact. My body should already be moving to counter it. I should be following the script, as I always do.

But I hesitate.

The images playing in my mind are no longer reassuring. They’re suffocating, binding me to a course of action I suddenly feel powerless to follow.

“Why?” Kumo asks, and this time her voice is softer, her tone stripped of anger and replaced with something else. Something I don’t know how to respond to. “Why are you doing this?”

I don’t have an answer.

Kumo’s weapon trembles faintly in her grip, her movements slowing. The raw electricity radiating from her body begins to dim, its crackling sparks fading into faint whispers, like a distant storm retreating over the horizon.

Her stance softens—not in weakness, but in something else. I don’t know if it’s compassion or condescension, and I hate how both make me feel.

Her eyes, though. They burn just as fiercely as before.

“Come on, Miharu,” she says, her voice cutting through the haze of my thoughts like a scalpel. The edge is still there, but beneath it lies something else—something gentler.

“This isn’t you.”

“This is me,” I snap, but my voice wavers. The words sound more like a desperate plea than the confident declaration I wanted them to be.

Kumo doesn’t flinch.

“You don’t believe that,” she says, stepping forward. Her movements are cautious but steady, her resolve unbroken. “You’re better than this. You’re stronger than whatever he’s made you believe you are.”

The words settle uncomfortably in my chest, rattling the fragile equilibrium I’ve been clinging to.

Better? Stronger?

I’m not sure I even know what those words mean anymore.

Behind her, the chaos of the battlefield continues to rage—a storm of clashing steel, desperate cries, and fleeting shadows. Yet it’s all faded to the background, a dim and distant hum. There’s no audience here. No stage. No script.

Just Kumo and me.

“Kumo lowers her weapon. She extends a hand toward you.”

The stage directions appear, the ghostly words hovering in my mind like they always do.

[Take advantage and run your blade through her.]

I freeze. The command hangs there, lingering like poison in my mind. The scene begins to unfold as written, each moment aligning perfectly with the script.

Kumo’s hand stretches toward me, open and unarmed. Her palm is relaxed, her fingers loose, an unspoken invitation lingering in the air between us.

“Come with me,” she says, her voice steady, her words devoid of anger or accusation. She speaks with an unwavering certainty, as if she believes what she’s offering is the simplest, most natural choice in the world.

“Be the Red who used to fight side-by-side with us,” she continues, her tone softening further. “The one who led us into our first fight. You don’t have to clash against us like this. You don’t have to fight yourself. Just... come with me.”

Her words twist something inside me, an ache I can’t name.

I stare at her outstretched hand, at the faint flickers of electricity still fading from her fingertips. Something inside me cracks.

Come with me.

The words echo in my mind, their weight pressing down on me like a cruel taunt. They mimic every promise he’s ever whispered in my ear.

Follow me, and I’ll give you purpose.
Follow me, and I’ll show you who you really are.
Follow me...

The storm inside me boils over. Confusion and fury, guilt and betrayal—they twist together into something raw and unbearable, until the edges of everything blur.

“Kumo leans closer, her expression filled with trust. Her guard lowers completely.”

[Strike now while she’s vulnerable.] , the directions urge.

“No...” I whisper, shaking my head as the words hover there, taunting me.

Kumo’s brow furrows, her concern deepening. “Miharu, what—”

“No!” I scream, my voice shattering the fragile stillness between us. My blade slashes through the air, forcing her to step back.

“You think you’re any different?!” The words tear out of me, raw and broken, startling even me. “You think you can tell me who to be?! What to do?! What’s right and wrong?!”

Kumo’s eyes widen. Her hand falls slowly back to her side, her open stance collapsing into something guarded.

“I’m not your Red,” I spit, the venom in my voice surprising even me. “I’m not anyone’s anything! I don't want your useless expectations, so get them away from me!!”

The stage directions flicker into view again, but for the first time, I don’t care. They’re nothing to me—just words, just hollow commands. They mean nothing.

“I’m done letting other people write my story,” I growl, my voice trembling. It doesn’t feel like fear, though. It shakes with rage. With certainty.

For the first time, the lines between Miharu and Red don’t feel blurred.

They feel nonexistent.

Kumo’s mouth opens as if to speak, but no words come. She simply stares at me, her expression unreadable.

In her eyes, though, I see something I hadn’t expected—something that twists the knife deeper.

Pity.

And that pity only makes me angrier.

“Kumo tries to step forward, a hand raised in surrender.”

[Rush her before she can regain her footing.]

The command was instinctive. I didn’t even wait for the stage directions to fully form before I surged forward, blade drawn, moving faster than thought. It wasn’t a decision—it was a reflex, a compulsion that had lived in my bones long before tonight.

Kumo barely managed to raise her blade in time. Sparks flew as our weapons collided, the force of my strike driving her back. Her arms trembled under the impact, her footing unsteady.

“Dammit, Miharu!” she shouted, her voice a volatile mix of anger and desperation. “Why are you doing this?!”

“Because I don’t know who I am!” The scream tore out of me, raw and jagged. My blade crashed against hers again, then again, each strike harder, each one more unrelenting. “And I don’t care!”

My voice cracked, but I didn’t stop. The words kept pouring out, fuelled by a fire I couldn’t control.

“I’m not going to be your idea of me, or his, or anyone else’s!”

Each blow felt like it carried more than steel—it carried my frustration, my fear, the unbearable weight of trying to live up to roles I didn’t even understand my entire life.

Kumo faltered under the onslaught, her footing slipping as she tried to regain control.

“Kumo stumbles, her defences faltering. She looks at you with shock and hesitation.”

[Disarm her.]

I ignored the brackets, their hollow authority meaningless to me now. They didn’t dictate me. They couldn’t.

Kumo’s blade sparked wildly as she struggled to hold her ground. Her movements were growing erratic, her energy flickering like a dying flame.

“Miharu, stop! Please!”

“Why?!” I shouted, my voice hoarse, fraying at the edges. “So you can turn me into your perfect little soldier too?! So you can make me into someone you approve of?! Someone he approves of?! I’m not…” My voice cracked, the words coming out as a shuddering gasp. “I’m not doing it anymore!”

Our blades met again, the clash ringing in my ears like thunder. But this time, it was who Kumo buckled. Her knees hit the ground, the force of the impact reverberating through the air. Her weapon slipped slightly from her grip, her fingers trembling against its hilt.

She looked up at me, her eyes wide. There was no hatred in them. No fury. Only something softer, something deeper—fear, sorrow, maybe even understanding.

“Miharu…” she whispered. Her voice was fragile, barely audible over the ringing in my ears.

My grip on my blade tightened. I didn’t hesitate. I raised my weapon high, the cold edge glinting in the dim, fractured light of the Hollow Night. This was it—the moment to end it all, to silence her voice, to silence everything.

But then I saw my reflection in her eyes.

It wasn’t Red staring back at me. It wasn’t Miharu, either.

It was something else entirely.

Someone I didn’t recognize.

My hand froze mid-swing. The weight of the blade felt unbearable, the momentum of the strike evaporating in an instant. I stood there, trembling, the blade hovering above her exposed form, as if frozen in time.

“Kumo lowers her gaze, bracing for the strike that never comes.”

The brackets didn’t return. There were no further stage directions. No whispers guiding my actions, no prescriptive commands to follow. Just silence.

And in that silence, I didn’t feel afraid.

The reflection I saw in Kumo’s eyes was unfamiliar, yes, but not terrifying. Not a monster. Not an illusion.

I didn’t know who I was. Not yet.

But for the first time - I realized I didn’t need to.

Slowly, deliberately, I lowered my blade.

Kumo let out a shaky breath, her shoulders sagging as the tension in her body gave way. Her breathing was ragged, her chest rising and falling as if she had just been saved from drowning.

She didn’t move. She just knelt there, staring up at me. Her eyes searched mine, filled with confusion and something else—reluctant hope, maybe.

“I’m not yours,” I said quietly. My voice didn’t shake this time. It was steady, final. “And I’m not his…”

I looked up then, at the cascading bits of glass and dust carried by the wind, scattered across the sky like stars. In that moment I felt my hand reach up, as it often did, to that ‘Heaven’ I’d yearned for so long.

But this time, I pulled it back down. I wasn’t going anywhere.

“…I’m mine.”

The words hung in the air, heavier than the sword in my hand. For a moment, neither of us moved. The battlefield beyond us felt like another world, the distant sounds of combat dulled into an echo.

Kumo’s lips parted, as if to say something, but no words came. She just knelt there, her gaze locked on me, her weapon limp in her hands.

I didn’t wait for her to respond.

Without another word, I turned and walked away.

My footsteps echoed in the stillness, each one heavier than the last. I could feel her eyes on me as I moved, but I didn’t look back.

There were no more stage directions. No more whispers.

No more fighting between Red and Miharu.

Just me.

I felt something tell me that, at least for now, she was more than enough.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 67 - Kinoko Rusuban

Hollow Night

From where I stood, perched on a floating slab of concrete wreathed in thick, thorny vines, the city below looked so… insignificant. Cracked streets, shattered buildings, and stray embers flickering in the dark—the aftermath of complete and utter destruction.

Indeed, I had made a beautiful mess of this place. But beauty or not, time wasn’t on my side.

“You’re crumbling!” Arthur proclaimed from below. His voice was steady, but his stance betrayed his frustration. He had already cleaved through a dozen of my organic servants ripped from underground, but the vines kept coming, tangling and snapping at his feet, relentless.

“I’m going to burn you to a crisp, deceiver! I’ll wrest back control from those bloody hands of yours, finger by finger!”

How quaint.

“Control?” I smirked. “Horribly overrated, my friend. Necessity, however… That is something no one can escape. Not you - not me.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed as he continued to claw away at my offense. “Quit the theatrics, Rusuban! I’m not here to listen to your excuses.”

“Do you honestly believe I’m doing this out of whimsy?” I asked, my voice a low murmur carried by the wind. “I wish it were that simple, truly! I wish I could be the simple, one dimensional villain you so desperately want me to be. The monster you could righteously slay to paint yourself as this story’s hero. But you have no idea what’s really going on here, do you?”

Arthur didn’t respond immediately. His silence betrayed his unease, but it didn’t last long. With a growl, he spotted an opening and lunged at me like a bloodthirsty bullet, his claws cutting fiery arcs through the air.

The platform beneath me shifted at my command, vines propelling it backward as Arthur’s strike narrowly missed, slicing through the edge of the concrete like it was paper.

“…Do you know what the Hollow Night really is?” I continued, weaving my words into the chaos of the fight. “Why we’re here? Why you’re here?”

Of course, Arthur didn’t respond. He couldn’t. Another wave of vines erupted from the ground around him, twisting like living ropes, their thorns glinting in the moonlight. He spun sharply, decapitating them with precision, but for every one he destroyed, three more took its place.

I felt I’d become quite proficient with this new ability indeed.

“I suppose you wouldn’t know,” I said, my voice taking on a bemused tone. “After all, why would anyone bother telling you? It’s easier to keep you in the dark, to let you play your part in this little tragedy without question.”

“Then why do you know?” Arthur barked, his voice cutting through the chaos.

I hesitated, just for a moment, before answering. “Because I’m not like the rest of you.”

The battle raged on, frantic and chaotic. Arthur was relentless, his strikes carving through my constructs with sheer, brute force. My vines lashed at him from every direction, snapping like whips, but he was quick—too quick. He returned every blow they landed in kind, slicing through my defences and forcing me to pull back.

At this rate, it would prove difficult to find an opening.

The platform beneath me shifted and lurched, carried by a mass of writhing vines that pulsed with life. It hovered just out of Arthur’s reach, moving with every swing of his arms, every lunge of his body.

“Do you even care what happens to her?” Arthur suddenly shouted, his voice raw.

“Her?” I repeated, almost amused.

“Kozuki! Your partner!”

“Ah, Kozuki,” I said, the name tasting foreign in my mouth. “Or as she prefers, Red. A fitting name, don’t you think? A bright colour for someone who’s spent so much of her life in shadow.”

Arthur’s expression darkened. “That’s not an answer…!”

I chuckled, low and humorless.

“Do you want the truth? Fine. No, I don’t care about her. She’s convenient, nothing more. It’s only fitting she be under my leash—we’re bound by our pact, after all. But care? That’s a luxury I can’t afford.”

Arthur slashed through another wave of vines, his movements growing sharper, angrier.

“You’re disgusting.”

“On the contrary,” I said, my tone calm despite his fury. “I’m desperate.”

“Desperate for what?” he demanded, his voice rising.

“To complete my mission,” I said simply. “It’s far too late for myself, of course. My time is running out, and I’ve made peace with that. But there are… things I need to do before that time comes. And for that, I need power.”

“And what exactly do you hope to achieve with this ‘power’ of yours – save for sending us all to the grave?!”

I smiled, though admittedly, there was no joy in it.

“Now that would only spoil the mystery, wouldn’t it?”

Arthur’s frustration was palpable, but before he could press me further, a deafening roar tore through the night.

Both of us froze, our gazes snapping to the source of the sound.

In the distance, a massive, hulking figure loomed—a grotesque, nightmarish amalgamation of limbs and shadow, its form pulsating with unnatural energy. At its core, a faint silhouette could be seen, suspended like a puppet on strings.

Liu.

“What on earth…?” Arthur whispered, his voice barely audible.

Even I couldn’t suppress a shiver. The sheer power radiating from the creature was staggering.

For a moment, I felt a flicker of relief. With Liu and his… creation keeping Daisuke occupied, I had one less variable to worry about.

But then my gaze shifted to another figure, standing at the edge of the battlefield.

Reaper.

My heart quickened, though I kept my composure.

This was the moment I’d been waiting for.

Arthur’s fists tightened as his eyes darted between the creature and me.

“Whatever you’re planning, it ends here, Rusuban!”

I smirked.

“Oh, please. Since when was I the focal point of all of this? Daisuke, Liu, Reaper... they’re all just pieces on the board. I just intend to control it.”

His eyes narrowed. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means,” I said, my tone dripping with confidence, “that while you’re busy trying to save your ‘friends’, I’ll be the one winning the game you forgot you were playing.”

Before he could respond, the platform beneath me surged higher, carried by the vines, as I prepared my next move. I felt another pair of eyes on me then, directing a gaze that was rather new an unfamiliar.

I turned, just slightly, catching a glimpse of Nakamura in the distance, pursuing Reaper. He was watching me, his expression unreadable.

I couldn’t help but smile.

Let the pieces fall where they may.

But by the time I’d shifted my attention back to Arthur, I had no time to react to the fact that he’d shot through my defences and was much, much closer to me than I –

The jagged heat of Arthur’s claws had almost seared through my flesh just before my vines could pull me away completely.

“Come on…” I hissed to myself, sweat dripping from my forehead. As if waiting for the worst possible timing, another painful palpitation struck me in that moment, my heart throbbing and breath stolen away. My chest heaved as I willed the platform beneath me to stabilize.

“You’ve been… through worse…”

But as Arthur leapt into the air, fire blazing across his claws, I knew that was a lie.

He hit me harder than I expected, the force of his strike slashing across my torso. A scream ripped from my throat as blood sprayed into the air, my body twisting from the impact.

For a fleeting moment, my mind had inexplicably drifted to that voice—the one that had whispered the truth of the Hollow Night into my ear. The one who had told me what was coming.

“…Bring it all down, Kinoko Rusuban. You are the only one who can.”

I clenched my teeth, forcing my vines to retaliate, but Arthur was too fast, too close. Another fiery claw raked across my side, and the pain hit me like a thunderclap. He wasn’t giving me a moment to recover—his strikes came like an unrelenting storm, each one sharper, hotter, deadlier than the last.

The next thing I knew, I was on my back, the ground cold and unforgiving beneath me. My platform had collapsed, the vines snapping under the pressure of Arthur’s assault.

And there he was, towering over me, fire licking at the edges of his claws. His eyes burned brighter than the flames, filled with a rage so primal it was…almost beautiful.

“This ends now,” he growled, his voice low and guttural.

I stared up at him, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The pain was overwhelming, but I refused to look away. If he wanted to kill me, I would make him see me for what I truly was. Never broken.

But hen, for just a moment, something unexpected happened.

He hesitated.

I saw it in his eyes, in the way his claws trembled ever so slightly. He was angry, but there was something else there—doubt. He was looking at me, really looking at me, and it was as if he somehow didn’t see a monster anymore.

No.

No, no, no.

I couldn’t allow that.

My lips parted, ready to say something, to twist that doubt into the resolved killing intent I deserved—but before I could speak, a voice cut through the tension.

“Arthur, look out!”

The shout came from somewhere in the distance, but its effect was immediate. Arthur’s head snapped toward the sound, his focus breaking for just a second.

It was all the time they needed.

The kick came out of nowhere, slamming into Arthur’s stomach with a force that sent him hurtling backward. He crashed into a pile of rubble, the impact shaking the ground beneath me.

I blinked, dazed and disoriented, my mind struggling to process what had just happened. My entire body ached, every nerve screaming in protest as I tried to sit up.

That was when I saw it.

A shadow fell over me, blocking out the dim light. For a moment, I thought it was Arthur, somehow recovered and ready to finish me off. But as the figure stepped closer, my breath caught in my throat.

It was Reaper.

Their hood concealed most of their face, but their eyes—those haunting, piercing eyes—glowed a dark green. My dark green.

A slow, shaky smile spread across my bloodied face.

“You’re tardy,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the sound of my own laboured breathing.

They didn’t respond. They simply extended a hand toward me, their movements eerily precise, like a puppet on invisible strings.

For a moment, I hesitated, my gaze flicking between their outstretched hand and their glowing eyes. But then, with what little strength I had left, I reached up and grasped their hand.

As their fingers closed around mine, a surge of energy pulsed through me. Was it… healing? It dulled the pain and slowly began to mend my wounds—but it was something else, something deeper. I could feel it in my vines, in the very core of my being.

Arthur was getting back to his feet now, his claws igniting once more as he prepared to charge.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, his voice thick with frustration.

I turned to Reaper, still holding their hand, and for the first time in what felt like hours, I allowed myself to laugh.

“Oh, Arthur,” I said, my voice a rasping mockery of its usual confidence. “You were so close. But really, you never stood a chance. Not against me – and certainly not against us.”

Arthur’s snarl was enough to send shivers down my spine, but I didn’t care. I had Reaper now.

With them under my thumb, there was nothing—nothing—that could stop me.

My vines coiled around me and Reaper like a protective cocoon, shielding us from Arthur’s fiery rage.

“This game is far from over,” I said, a sharp grin cutting across my face. “And you’re not the only one who can play with fire.”

The battlefield fell silent for a moment, the tension thick in the air. Then, with a single, commanding gesture, I sent my vines surging forward, the fight reigniting in a chaotic amalgamation of flames and thorns.

Oh, how our world had become this cacophony of sheer chaos—a fitting stage indeed for what I hoped was the finale of this act. Arthur’s fiery claws were slicing through the air, Reaper’s movements were precise and haunting, and my vines danced with ferocity. The three of us weaved between each other’s blows and bound the shattered landscape together.

Arthur, though surely injured at this stage, was relentless, his wrath barely contained. Every move of his was sharper, hotter, and more desperate than the last, as though he believed sheer willpower could overwhelm both me and my newfound advantage.

Junko and Nakamura’s sudden arrival at his side had somewhat tipped the scales, if only ever so slightly. I supposed Kozuki had faltered. Perhaps if it were a smarter or more heartless cohort I was dealing with, this would worry me - but I knew better.

Even if Kozuki had fallen to Junko, she wouldn’t kill my partner. Not because she didn’t have it in her – especially considering what I’d just done – but because Junko wanted to end me on her own terms. I could see it in her eyes. Any outcome that didn’t involve her carving a hole in my chest herself wasn’t an option.

It was almost cute.

Still, numbers meant nothing if the pieces were placed wrong. And my pieces—ah, they were falling into place beautifully.

Reaper and I moved in tandem, an unspoken connection driving their strikes. The hood still concealed their face, but I could feel the weight of their EXS surging through the air, mingling with mine in perfect harmony. A pair of dark green eyes, glowing faintly under the hood, followed my every command.

Arthur had soon been reduced to desperate lunges, his attacks growing wild as Junko and Nakamura did their best to back him up. The three of them tried to corner us, tried to force us into their traps. But they didn’t understand.

Reaper handled them like playthings, catching their lousy attempts at strikes and tossing them away, as if she were a child throwing broken toys into the trash.

Seeing them scramble so desperately was, for lack of a better term, deeply entertaining.

Still, I didn’t intend to make the same mistake twice – I’d had my fun. It was time to get them out of the way already.

“You seem distracted, mutt!” I called out, my voice lilting with mockery. “Is it Reaper? Perhaps you didn’t expect to see such a powerful force so… amenable to my cause?”

Arthur’s claws scraped against my vines, flames sputtering as he snarled. “Whatever you’ve done to them, Rusuban, I’m going to end it!”

“Oh, Arthur,” I said, feigning disappointment as I brushed strands of blood-matted hair away from my face. “How can I force what they’ve so clearly chosen for themselves?”

I turned back to my puppet, a smile slicing across my face.

“Playtime’s over. Be a darling and kill them, would you?”

Reaper moved before the final word had even left my lips. No hesitation, no pause, just a blur of lethal precision and killing intent. Their scythe slashed forward in a sweeping arc, carving through the air with a keening whistle. Nakamura barely threw himself out of the way, the blade missing him by the width of a hair.

Arthur charged forward with a roar, claws igniting with fierce light as they collided with Reaper’s scythe. Sparks showered from the clash, but the outcome was clear in an instant—Arthur was no match for their sheer strength. The blow sent him rocketing backward like a comet, slamming into the asphalt with a deafening crack!

“Arthur!” Junko shouted, darting toward him, but Reaper was relentless. Their scythe came spinning back toward them, forcing Junko to dive away. Nakamura surged forward with a flurry of strikes, fists overcome with energy as he aimed at Reaper’s midsection.

They twisted fluidly, their movements inhumanly precise, and delivered a devastating kick to his chest that sent him crumpling to the ground, gasping for breath.

Junko’s fists then crackled with electricity too as she hurled a punch directly at Reaper’s face. The puppet didn’t even flinch, and in that moment I supposed Junko and Nakamura really did deserve each other, ha! The lightning struck Reaper head-on, but they stood tall, unshaken, and lunged toward Junko with a savage downward swing.

“Stop hiding behind them, you spineless asshat!” Junko yelled at me, her voice trembling as she barely managed to avoid the blow with a hastily performed dive.

“Hiding?” I echoed, letting out a delighted laugh. “Oh, no. This is what it looks like when someone stops pretending.”

Reaper pivoted, Their scythe cutting through Junko’s weapon like paper. The force sent Junko sprawling to the ground, clutching at her shoulder as blood seeped through her suit. She scrambled backward, panic flickering in her eyes.

Arthur staggered to his feet, his claws blazing once more, and threw himself back into the fray. “Reaper! Stop this! It’s me!” he shouted, slashing toward her with desperate ferocity.

Alas, Reaper didn’t stop. They deflected his strikes with clinical precision, the scythe a blur of lethal grey. Arthur ducked, rolled, and leapt with everything he had, but Reaper was faster—faster and far stronger. A brutal backhand from the flat of their scythe sent him skidding across the battlefield, blood spraying from his mouth as he hit the ground hard.

“Feel it yet?” I taunted, my voice slicing through the chaos. I spread my arms, vines erupting around me in a writhing, living barrier. “The threads pulling at the corners of this game? The lucky coincidences, the Noise being kept at bay that should’ve interrupted us by now? It’s all been me, idiots. I am this Hollow Night. Every step, every choice you thought was yours… I’ve been there, pruning and shaping.”

“You’re insane!” Junko spat, struggling to her feet despite the blood soaking her sleeve. “No one can control both plant life and living beings—it's not possible!”

“Oh, Junko, dear,” I purred, taking a step forward as the vines surged behind me, curling toward them like eager serpents. “I don’t need you to believe me. I just need you to die.”

“Kill them all,” I commanded, my voice cold and final.

Reaper’s glowing eyes flared brighter. They became a remarkable storm of violence after that. Their scythe slashed toward Nakamura first, and though he managed to raise a gauntlet, it shattered under the first blow. The second strike carved into his side, sending him sprawling with a cry of pain.

Junko cut another arc of lightning, but Reaper swatted it aside effortlessly, closing the distance in a single, horrifying leap. Their scythe swept toward Junko’s neck, and the girl’s eyes widened in terror. Arthur slammed into Reaper from the side, saving Junko by a hair’s breadth, but Reaper didn’t falter. She twisted midair, driving their knee into Arthur’s ribs with enough force to send him spilling away yet again.

“R- cough - Reaper!” Arthur gasped, dragging himself upright as blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. “This isn’t you!”

Reaper strode forward, scythe spinning. They raised the weapon high, their glowing eyes locking onto Arthur’s prone form.

“…Please!” Arthur shouted, his voice breaking as he scrambled backward. “It’s me! It’s Arthur!”

They didn’t stop.

“Don’t listen to him,” I hissed, my vines curling tighter around them, practically feeding them my will. “You’re mine. Finish it. Kill him.”

Reaper’s scythe arced downward.

“Your art!” Arthur’s voice erupted, raw and desperate. He threw his claws aside and reached out, unarmed, unprotected.

Time seemed to freeze as the scythe halted, mere inches from Arthur’s throat.

“No!” I screamed, fury exploding in my chest as I felt my control slipping. “You’re mine! You belong to me!”

Reaper’s hand trembled. The scythe wavered, and their glowing eyes flickered.

Arthur crawled forward, his voice shaking but unwavering. He looked directly into my puppet’s eyes.

“...I’m grateful for you. For every piece of art you’ve created, for every word we’ve shared. Even if we don’t always say it, you’re someone who matters. To me.”

Reaper’s hand twitched. Their grip on the scythe slackened.

“I said no!” I bellowed, my vines surging forward to reinforce my control. “Kill him! Obey me!”

Arthur didn’t flinch, his voice rising in desperation.

“R-Reaper isn’t some puppet! They’re the one who taught me what it means to create something beautiful, something meaningful, even in a world full of darkness like this one!”

The vines around Reaper snapped and writhed, faltering under the weight of their hesitation. Then, with a sharp, decisive motion, they tore free of my control, severing the vines with a single swing of their scythe.

“Don't you dare walk away from me, you useless dog!!” I roared, fury consuming me as her once glowing eyes now dimmed.

“Reaper is...Reaper is..."

Arthur rose shakily to his feet, his claws still lowered, and reached out a trembling hand.

"...my best friend!”

For a long, breathless moment, Reaper stood still, the scythe falling from their grasp.

Then, slowly, they raised both hands and lowered their hood.

Beneath it was a strikingly beautiful girl, her face pale and framed framed by luscious long white hair, wide eyes and an ebony ribbon billowing with the breeze. My dark green light had long since faded to reveal deep violet irises filled with tears.

She collapsed to her knees, her shoulders shaking as the fight drained from her.

Arthur knelt beside her, his voice soft and broken. “…Thank you for coming back, Yami-san.”

I staggered, rage boiling within me as my grip on the battlefield slipped. “No… no, this isn’t over. This isn’t—”

But it was. I could feel it. My connection to her was gone.

For the second blasted time tonight, I felt that aggravating sensation creep up on me.

Failure.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 68 - Liu Katoru

Hollow Night

I’d never felt power like this. It was unrefined, chaotic, and – honestly? A little terrifying.

But it was also mine.

For once, I wasn’t playing the bumbling side character or some punching bag. I was driving this thing—me and the Tainted, together, synced up in a way I didn’t know was possible.

This poor bastard wouldn’t know what hit him.

Daisuke stood there like the goddamn apocalypse in armor, all horns and claws and molten rage. He’d grown a pair of hooked, devilish wings that beat once, and the resulting blast of air was so strong it cracked windows up and down the block. The guy clearly wasn’t human anymore; he was something out of a nightmare, a walking disaster, all muscle and EXS burning so hot you could practically feel the heatwaves rolling off him.

Though in all fairness, Tainted wasn’t exactly subtle either.

We’d grown—huge. Tainted was already on the bulkier side, able to throw boxer-level haymakers at a speed that was nobody’s business – but now, it was built like a damn tank. Its clawed fingers were big enough to rip through cars, its shoulders bulging with these nasty spiked plates, and its glowing chest looked like someone had shoved a mini-sun inside it.

Yeah, we were probably ugly as hell, but we could throw down. And I was all about that.

When Daisuke made the first move, though, we barely even saw it coming.

One second he was standing there, the next his fist smashed into the side of our head like a wrecking ball. The impact sent us flying, straight through the side of some tall office building. Concrete and steel went flying, glass rained down everywhere—it was chaos. My ears were ringing so loud I couldn’t even hear myself swear.

Then came the real bad news.

Before I could even blink, Daisuke was coming at us again, with his wings beating the air and barrelling through the wreckage like a runaway freight train. His claws gleamed in the moonlight, dripping with whatever ridiculous amount of EXS that was currently fuelling the both of us.

“Oh, no you don’t!” I growled, digging the Tainted’s hands into the rubble.

We steadied ourselves just in time. With a roar, the Tainted swung one massive arm out and clocked him right in the chest. The bastard slid far to the left, tearing up the street as his feet dug trenches into the asphalt.

“Gotcha, asshole,” I muttered, wiping some blood off my lip—well, our lip. Whatever.

Oh, and don’t think for a second I was about to let him recover.

We instantly launched ourselves forward, claws out. The Tainted’s instincts guided me; it knew exactly where to aim, how to attack, and I didn't question it. We came down on Daisuke like a sledgehammer, bashing at his armor, tearing into his wings, not letting up for even a second.

It was brutal, and damn, it felt good.

Daisuke snarled, throwing up his arms to block, sparks flying everywhere as we scraped and collided against his armor.

Don’t get me wrong, he was strong—like, stupid strong. He made the Noise we’d come across up til’ now (and practically all the other players) look like bitches and then some.

Good thing I wasn’t playing fair.

“Eat this!” I yelled, grabbing the nearest car with one hand. That’s right, a goddamn car. The Tainted tossed it easily, hurling the thing straight at his head.

Daisuke caught it. His claws crushed the hood like it was a soda can, and with this one clearly pissed-off roar, he threw it right back at us.

Boom!

The thing exploded against our chest, flames and shrapnel flying everywhere. The pain was sharp, hot, and yeah, it sucked—but it only made me angrier. Slowly, I could feel the pain fade away, replaced by fury.

I’d learned by now that the angrier I got, the stronger my EXS seemed to get too - and I’ll be damned if it wasn’t handy in situations like these.

“You think that’s enough to stop me?” I spat, the Tainted’s growl mixing with my voice.

We roared back at him and charged, claws slicing through the air. We aimed for his wings this time, ripping into the thin, fleshy parts like tearing paper. Pieces of them fluttered to the ground like withered chunks of the sky itself as he howled in pain.

That’s when his tail came around.

The damn thing slammed into our side like a battering ram, knocking us clean off our feet. We hit the ground hard, skidding across the asphalt in a shower of sparks.

“Get the hell up!” I snapped, forcing the Tainted to its feet. My head was spinning, but the Tainted didn’t care. Its body was already healing, the gashes in its side closing up like they’d never been there.

Daisuke was coming for us again, his whole body blazing with that red-hot energy.

“Don’t give him an inch, buddy,” I muttered.

The Tainted lunged forward, and we crashed into him like a wrecking ball. The impact sent shockwaves rippling through the street, shattering what few windows were left. We grappled, claws locked against his horns in a brutal test of strength.

I was screaming, the Tainted was roaring, and Daisuke was snarling like the monster he was. And for one moment—just that one—we had him.

The Tainted pushed forward, forcing Daisuke back a step. Then another.

“Tell me the truth, dude! You’re scared, aren’t you?” I taunted through gritted teeth. “All that power, and we’re still—”

I heard a weird noise then. It was some kind of growl for sure, but it was repeated, and a had a rhythm to it, like a…a laugh.

We froze for a second. It wasn’t a normal laugh—it was low, guttural, and way too calm for someone kind of getting their ass handed to them. For some reason, it felt like the empty, ironic kinda chuckle someone would make while standing over a cliff or bridge, contemplating whether to –

“W-Wait a second, don’t you dare…!” I started, but then I saw it.

His wings spread wide, those ragged, torn things somehow still holding steady. His tail curled behind him, and he crouched low, the muscles in his legs coiling like springs.

“Oh, no. Oh, hell no.”

The bastard launched himself into the air, soaring straight toward the tallest building in the vicinity – Towa fucking Records. The Tainted and I stumbled back, watching as he landed halfway up, claws digging into the glass and steel like it was nothing.

“What’s he—?”

Before I could finish the thought, he started climbing.

“Shit, shit, shit!” I growled.

We gave chase, scrambling after him as fast as the Tainted could go. But he was faster, scaling that building like some kind of demonic spider. He reached the top in seconds, standing there like a fucking king looking down on his kingdom.

And then he raised his claws.

The sky cracked opened then, and the clouds started swirling around like God himself had just turned on the blender. Everything got washed in this deep crimson red then, and the air around him started to shimmer, rippling like heatwaves. The glow from his chest flared brighter and brighter, pulsing like a heartbeat.

“Oh, crap,” I muttered.

Whatever he was about to do, I knew it wasn’t gonna be pretty.

The sky wasn’t just cracking anymore—it was straight up shattering.

That deep crimson glow spread like wildfire, painting everything in shades of hell. Buildings, streets, even the air itself—it all got warped and twisted, like the entire Hollow Night was starting to come apart at the seams. And at the center of it all was Daisuke.

The bastard stood there, glowing like a goddamn star, his claws raised to the sky. The pulsing light in his chest expanded, forming this massive sphere of energy right above his outstretched hand, looking like a miniature asteroid. It wasn’t just red; it was wrong. The thing radiated malice—pure, undiluted hate—and it felt like it could swallow the entire world if it got the chance.

I gritted my teeth, the Tainted growling low in my chest.

“What the hell is he doing now?!”

The Tainted didn’t say anything—it looked like the ability to speak went out the window while it was like this—but I could feel its thoughts bleeding into mine. It didn’t like this. The closer we got to that glowing monstrosity, the more it felt like our whole body was burning from the inside out.

Daisuke roared, the sound so loud it shook the ground beneath us. The sphere of energy casting its shadow over him grew larger, pulsing violently with each beat of his heart.

And then, like the shitface he was, the corners of the fanged appendage that I guess was his mouth became upturned. He was smiling.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” I muttered, flexing the Tainted’s claws. “He’s gonna blow this whole fucking place to smithereens!”

My chest tightened. Where the fuck was this Juno guy when you needed him?! I didn’t know if that was me or the Tainted, but it didn’t matter. Either way, we had to stop him—and fast.

“All right,” I growled, squaring my shoulders. “Let’s take him down.”

We launched ourselves into the air, claws gleaming, ready to tear that smug grin off his face. But the closer we got, the worse it got.

The air around Daisuke was thick with EXS—so thick it was practically choking us. It wasn’t just the heat or the pressure; it was like the energy itself was alive, pushing back against us, eating away at the Tainted’s form.

I gritted my teeth, pushing forward.

“Come on, you piece of shit, hold together!”

The Tainted roared, but its body was already starting to flicker, pieces of it dissolving into black smoke. The closer we got, the more it hurt—like someone was shoving red-hot needles into every inch of my skin.

We barely made it halfway before the pain became too much. With a scream, we were forced back, crashing into the ground. The impact left a crater, dust and debris raining down around us.

“Goddammit!” I shouted, slamming my fist into the ground.

This wasn’t working. We couldn’t get close enough to land a hit, and that sphere of his just kept growing. If we didn’t figure something out soon, the whole Hollow Night—and everyone in it—was screwed.

The Tainted stirred, its claws twitching. It wasn’t just me thinking; it was us. Together.

“…What, you got a plan?” I muttered, wiping blood from my lip.

For a moment, there was nothing. Then, slowly, an idea began to form—a crazy, desperate idea.

I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. “Wait. Are you saying…?”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut.

“A-Are you out of your goddamn mind?” I snapped, shaking my head. “No, no. No! There’s gotta be another way!”

My fists clenched, my claws digging into the pavement. I didn’t want to do this. I couldn’t do this.

But, shit, the Tainted was right.

Daisuke wasn’t gonna stop. He wasn’t gonna back down. And if we didn’t end this now, he was gonna destroy everything.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stand. The Tainted stood with me, its massive form trembling but still strong.

“…Fine.” I muttered, my voice shaking. “Let’s do it.”

The Tainted didn’t respond, but I could feel its resolve. We were in this together, as we’d always been – and as we’d always be - right to the very fucking end.

We charged forward then, ignoring the pain, the heat, the pressure. We ignored it all. The closer we got, the more our body dissolved, but we didn’t stop.

Daisuke turned to face us, his eyes glowing like molten gold. For a moment, I swear, there was a flicker of recognition—something human, like a knowing regret, buried deep beneath the monster.

“Sorry, pal,” I muttered eventually, feeling a sad smile on my lips. “Looks like I’m pulling an Akio.”

The Tainted’s claws wrapped around Daisuke, pulling him into a crushing embrace. The sphere of energy above us flared brighter, the heat so intense it felt like we were standing in the sun.

In that moment, I thought back on the life I’d lived up to that point. The relative happiness of my childhood – and then how everything went to shit and began to feel so empty after Mizuo died.

Still, I had to admit that something felt different when I got to recounting the last week or so.

Don’t get it twisted, I’d suffered more in the last three days than maybe my whole life combined. Even if I lived after this, I’d probably get expelled from Tensei, become a jobless bum just like my dear old abusive dad, and die in a ditch somewhere with maybe Daiki having a passing thought about me every now and then.

“Wonder what happened to that Liu guy I knew in high school,” He’d wonder. “…Oh well, better get back to my stable job and loving girlfriend and exciting plans for the future.”

Yeah, well screw you too Daiki.

Because you know what?

These past three days, as shitty as they’ve felt, as close to death as I’ve come consistently – they’ve gotta be the most worthwhile thing I’ve ever been a part of. Whether you think that's sad or not, I couldn't give a shit.

You can bet I’m taking that with me down to wherever I end up after this.

With one last final roar, we let go.

The Tainted’s chest glowed, its core pulsing violently. The light spread, consuming us, consuming him, consuming everything.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence.

Then the world exploded.

Gotta say, I didn’t think dying would feel like this.

I expected darkness, silence, maybe even nothing at all. Instead, there was… this.

The world became red—deep, pulsing red, like I was walking around inside the heart of some massive, living creature. The ground rippled under my feet, liquid but solid at the same time, sending small waves outward with every step I took.

I tried to look around, tried to figure out where the hell I was, but there was nothing to see. No sky, no horizon, just an endless crimson haze stretching out in every direction.

“Great,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. “Guess death’s a bigger mess than life.”

But then I saw him.

In the distance, curled up like a kid hiding from a storm, was a figure. Small, fragile, shaking like a leaf in the wind. At first, I couldn’t make out who it was, but as I got closer, the details started to come into focus.

“…Daisuke?”

Yeah, it was him. No claws, no glowing chest, no monster bullshit. Just a boy, his face buried in his knees, his shoulders trembling with quiet sobs.

I thought I’d feel angry when I saw him. I thought I’d want to shout at him, hit him, make him pay for all the crap he’d put us through since the very start.

But man, all I felt was tired. And maybe… maybe a little sorry for him.

“Damn it, Akio,” I muttered under my breath. “You’re a bad influence, you know that?”

I started walking toward him, the rippling ground wobbling beneath me like a trampoline. But before I could get too far, the air around me shifted.

A low, guttural growl echoed through the space, and I turned to see shadows rising up from the ground. They weren’t people—they weren’t anything. Just black, twisted shapes with glowing red eyes and clawed hands.

“Ah, crap,” I muttered, raising my fists. “Here we go again.”

The first phantom lunged at me, its claws slashing through the air. I ducked, my instincts kicking in, and countered with a right hook. Black flames erupted from my glove as it connected, burning the thing into ash.

But for every one I took down, two more took its place.

“Real original, Daisuke,” I muttered, dodging another attack. “Couldn’t dream up a nice hot tub or something, huh? Had to go full horror movie?”

The phantoms didn’t respond, obviously. They just kept coming, swarming me from every direction. I fought back as best I could, but it was like trying to fight smoke. No matter how many I hit, they just kept coming.

She appeared right after that.

One of the phantoms stepped forward, but this one wasn’t like the others. It wasn’t some faceless shadow. It had a face I knew all too well.

My sister.

She looked exactly the same as I remembered: messy hair, a smirk that could cut glass, and eyes that always seemed to be laughing at me, even when she wasn’t saying a word.

But this wasn’t her. I knew it wasn’t her.

“Nice try,” I said, my voice shaking. “You’re not real.”

The phantom tilted its head, its smirk widening.

“Shut up,” I snapped, taking a step back. “You’re not real!”

But my fists wouldn’t move. My legs wouldn’t move. The sight of her—of this thing wearing her face—had me frozen in place.

“You couldn’t save me,” the phantom whispered, its voice like a dagger to my chest.

“I said shut up!”

“You’re weak, Liu. You’ve always been weak.”

The words cut deep. But then, slowly, something new (and quite frankly, weird) began to click in my brain.

Weak? Yeah, maybe. But so what?

I wasn’t the kid who hid in the shadow of his sister’s death anymore. I wasn’t the guy who blamed the world for everything that went wrong and hid myself away, refusing to take responsibility over anything. I was me. I was Liu Katoru, and I’d fought too damn hard to let some nightmare take me down now.

“If I believe in you,” I said, my voice steady now, “then I can believe in me, too.”

The phantom tilted its head again, confused.

“And I believe I’m stronger than whatever the fuck you’re meant to be,” I finished, stepping forward.

The phantom swiped at me, but its claws passed straight through. It tried again, and again, but it couldn’t touch me. None of them could.

I walked through the crowd of shadows like they weren’t even there, their attacks fading into nothing as I passed.

When I reached Daisuke, he was still curled up, his back to me.

“Hey, shitface,” I said, crouching down next to him. “You done throwing your little tantrum yet?”

He didn’t look up, but I could hear him sniffling.

“Go away,” he muttered.

“Yeah, no,” I said, sitting down beside him. “Not happening.”

He finally looked up at me, his eyes red and puffy. “What do you want?”

“I wanna know why the hell you’re doing all this,” I said, crossing my arms. “Why you’ve been going outta your way to make everyone’s lives a living hell – in an already pretty shitty arrangement, I might add. What’s the point, huh? You think blowing up the Hollow Night’s gonna fix anything?”

Daisuke shook his head, and I watched the tears streaming down his face.

“...I don’t know what else to do,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’m so… angry, all the time. And I hate it, but… I don’t know how to stop. I don’t know how to… how to be without it.”

For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t exactly the poster boy for emotional stability. But then, I remembered something Akio had said to me once in passing – back when we ate out and got to talking for the first time.

“You don’t have to know,” I said finally. “Not really. You just gotta keep moving forward. One step at a time, y’know? You screw up, you fix it. You fall, you get back up. What other choice have you got? That’s all anyone can do at the end of the day.”

Silence passed over us then, before Daisuke looked at me like I’d just spoken a foreign language.

“And hey,” I added, smirking. “If you really can’t figure it out, you’ve got me to keep kicking your ass until you do.”

A small, broken laugh escaped his lips. “…You’re an idiot.”

“Damn right,” I said, pulling him into a hug. “But thanks to this pact business, it looks like I’m your idiot for the foreseeable future - so deal with it.”

The world around us started to fade then, the red haze dissolving into a calming black.

I’d started to shut my eyes when, in the distance, I saw them—Akio and my sister, standing side by side, smiling at me.

I smiled back.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 69 - Arthur Cunningham

Hollow Night

“Arthur?” she whispered, her voice cracking.

“Yeah,” I said, trying to smile despite the tension in my chest. “It’s me.”

I stepped closer, kneeling next to her. My claws shrank back into fingers as I reached for her.

“You saved me, remember? Earlier tonight, in the department store. I don’t know how you did – and you didn’t have to - but you did. You gave me another chance to hold on, and I did. You told me to survive. And now it’s my turn to tell you the same thing. Hold on, Kotori.”

Her head jerked up then, her violet eyes wide and unguarded for the first time.

The aura around her seemed to freeze, losing its menacing edge. Kotori blinked a few times, her expression flickering between confusion and pain, before she suddenly took a gasp, shaking her head and revealing that familiar cascade of long white hair.

“Kotori Yami,” I said, relief flooding through me.

She stared at me for a second longer before breaking into a weak, lopsided grin.

“…Guess I said too much back there, huh?”

I couldn’t help but laugh, though it came out more like a cough thanks to the injuries.

“You think?”

“You’re annoying,” she muttered, her sarcasm cutting through the heaviness of the moment. But then her smile softened, her dull violet eyes meeting mine. “But… thanks. For not giving up on me.”

“Always,” I said, taking her hand and raising us both to our feet.

But before we could say anything more, the ground beneath us shook violently. A deafening boom split the air, and a wave of heat and dust rolled over us like a tidal wave.

“What the hell—” Nakamura shouted, shielding his face as debris rained down.

Junko stumbled to her feet, her ōdachi glowing faintly as she steadied herself.

“That came from Daisuke…?”

“…And Liu!” I added. “B-But I’m not reading either of signatures anymore. Don’t tell me…!”

I turned toward the source of the explosion, my chest tightening. In the distance, back towards Shibu and even further, toward Towa Records, I could see the fiery aftermath of whatever madness Liu and Daisuke had just unleashed. Smoke billowed into the sky, and the faint outline of something massive loomed within the haze.

“Damn it,” I muttered. “We’re out of time.”

Before I could move, Eiji’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and desperate.

“She’s slipping!” he shouted from across the battlefield. “Mizuko—she’s—” His voice cracked, the panic clear.

Kotori looked at me, her expression shifting from relief to something more serious.

“Go,” she said, her tone sharp.

“What about you?” I asked, my heart still pounding.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, her usual wit back in her voice. “I’m not exactly in top form – looks like he drained whatever EXS I had left just before I broke out - but I can handle myself. Besides, you’ve got bigger things to worry about.”

For a moment, I hesitated, my instincts screaming to stay with her, to keep her safe. But then Junko stepped forward, her expression grim.

“She’s right, Arthur,” Junko said. “We’ll figure out what’s happened with Liu and Daisuke one way or another, but right now, we can’t. Lose. Mizuko.”

Nakamura nodded, though his expression was tight with frustration. He limped forward, a hand on his side where Kotori struck him, but thankfully, it didn’t seem deep.

“Let’s move, y’all.”

I glanced back at Kotori one last time, her violet eyes steady and unwavering.

“Don’t get yourself killed,” I said, trying to keep my tone light.

“Same to you,” she shot back, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

And with that, we ran.

None of us waited for a plan.

But evidently, neither did Kotori.

“I can save her,” she shouted back , before suddenly cutting through the road like a razor. Her voice was sharp and urgent, but there was something calm—determined—in her tone that made me believe her.

Before I could ask how, she accelerated even more, her black ribbon trailing behind her like a shadow.

“Wait—Yami-san!” I called after her, but she was already moving, weaving through the battlefield with a precision that clearly even Rusuban couldn’t steal.

“Damn it!” Nakamura growled. His fists clenched tightly, his teeth clenched. “She’s gonna get herself killed.”

Junko stepped forward, her eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.

“No. She knows what she’s doing.”

I wasn’t so sure.

Across the ruined street, Kinoko stood stock-still for a moment, his head tilted like he was trying to process what had just happened. Then, slowly, he turned toward us, his dark eyes narrowing.

“She won’t make it,” he hissed, his voice dripping with venom. “I won’t let her.”

The vines around him twitched, then surged upward, twisting and curling into massive spirals that blocked the road everywhere, creating an asphalt labyrinth. The air grew thick with the smell of earth and sap, and the faint rumble of roots breaking through concrete filled the space around us.

“Rusuban!” I shouted, stepping forward, the prospect of Mizuko succumbing to her wound becoming painfully real. “It’s over, idiot! You’ve lost - just give up and let us save her!”

But he wasn’t listening.

“Do you think I care about your stupid morals?! Loyalty?!” he spat, his voice rising with every word. “Or do you think I’ve spent this entire night fighting for fun?” His laughter was sharp and bitter, cutting through the tension like a knife.

“You don’t understand. None of you do!” His voice cracked, and the plants around him grew wilder, twisting into monstrous shapes. “I know what I have to do! I am trying to save us, and you keep getting in my way!”

“Save us?” Junko scoffed, her voice laced with confusion and disbelief.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he raised his hands, and the ground beneath us began to shift and tremble.

“You won’t ruin this for me,” he snarled. “Not when I’m so close!”

The entire street erupted into chaos. Vines burst from the ground, thick and coiled like snakes, their sharp thorns glinting in the crimson glow of the night. Trees sprouted from the cracked pavement, their twisted branches reaching out like claws. The air grew dense, heavy with the overpowering scent of vegetation, and the sound of creaking wood and snapping roots filled the space around us.

And then, towering above it all, was Rusuban’s final creation.

The plant construct rose from the center of the battlefield, a massive, hulking thing made entirely of vines, roots, and bark. It had no distinct shape—just a monstrous, writhing mass of plant life that pulsed and twisted like a living thing. Its "eyes" glowed faintly green, and its "arms" were thick, gnarled branches that ended in jagged, thorn-covered claws.

“Oh, shit.” Nakamura muttered, his voice barely audible over the chaos.

“Kotori!” I shouted, my voice hoarse. She was still running, dodging the vines that shot out toward her with incredible speed and precision. But I knew she couldn’t keep it up forever—not with the amount of energy she’d expended fighting Daisuke, and with what had remained after that now fuelling Rusuban’s EXS at full force.

But then, as if the situation couldn’t get any worse, a familiar voice echoed through the air, accompanied by the buzzing and cracking of the few remaining screens littered about the area.

“The night is now over, young ones,” Juno’s voice rang out, calm and cold, as if they were simply stating the time.

“Farewell.”

The words hit like a hammer.

“No!” Junko shouted, her eyes wide with panic. “It’s too soon! Mizuko—she—she’s not—” Her voice broke, and she turned toward Kotori, her expression desperate.

My heart sank.

Juno’s words meant only one thing: the Hollow Night was ending. And if Mizuko wasn’t fully saved by the time the night reset…

I refused to think about it.

“Kotori!” I screamed, my voice breaking. “You have to move!! NOW!”

Junko stepped forward, her blade trembling in her hands. “Run, damnit! RUN! FUCKING RUN!”

For the first time all night, I felt a cold, gnawing fear in the pit of my stomach. This wasn’t just another fight.

This was a desperate prayer to whatever God would have mercy on us.

“GO, Kotori!” I bellowed, my throat raw from shouting. “We’ve got your back!”

And we did.

Junko roared, launching herself at Rusuban with a fury I’d genuinely never seen, throwing her technique out the window, screaming and slashing about with a reckless abandon that couldn’t separate friend from foe. Her ōdachi sliced through vines as thick as steel beams, spinning and slashing with relentless precision. She wasn’t fighting like the graceful warrior I knew anymore; she was fighting like an animal. A monster.

Of course, I followed right behind her, claws out and blazing with heat. Every step burned, every move sent more fire than I could hanflr coursing through my arms, but I didn’t care.

I had one job: keep Rusuban the hell away from Reaper.

“HANDS OFF, plant dickhead!” Nakamura shouted, his voice a thunderous roar. He slammed his gauntleted fists together, creating a shockwave that blew apart a cluster of mist-covered vines that had been creeping toward Junko’s flank. The mist scattered, the air momentarily clearing, but Rusuban wasn’t giving up.

“Grr, you think you can stop ME?!” Rusuban’s voice rang out, wild and unhinged. His plant construct roared with him, a guttural, otherworldly sound that made the ground shake beneath our feet.

“Damn right we can!” Eiji snapped, firing a burst of light from the crown of her hammer. The lasers zipped through the air, burning holes in the vines and severing their connection to the main construct.

But every time we cut something down, more vines grew back. Rusuban’s power was overwhelming, suffocating, endless. The entire street was a battlefield of tangled roots and thorned tendrils, each one lashing out like the limb of a vengeful god.

And through it all, Kotori was running.

Her ribbon fluttered in the wind, her white hair catching the crimson glow of the sky. She dodged vines with an agility that didn’t seem human, weaving through the chaos like a shadow. But even she wasn’t invincible.

“Come on, come on,” I muttered under my breath, slashing at a vine that tried to snatch her ankle.

Rusuban screamed, his voice raw and filled with rage.

“You can’t stop this! You won’t win!!” The plant construct lurched forward, swinging one massive, thorn-covered arm at Junko.

Junko didn’t flinch. She spun her sword with both hands, deflecting the blow with a deafening clang. The impact sent her skidding backward, her boots digging into the cracked pavement.

“Arthur!” she shouted, her voice strained. “Cover me!”

I was already moving. I leapt forward, claws blazing, and slashed at the arm. The heat from my EXS melted through the bark, sending chunks of burning wood crashing to the ground.

“Not even close!” I snarled.

“Enough!” Rusuban roared. The mist around him thickened, spreading out in all directions. It clung to my skin like oil, choking me, burning my lungs.

“Not today, asshole!” Nakamura barked. He slammed his fists together again, and the shockwave ripped through the mist, clearing a path for Kotori.

She was almost there.

“Mizuko!” she screamed, her voice hoarse.

Mizuko was lying just ahead, her body limp and pale, the glow from her EXS flickering like a dying lightbulb.

“Keep going, Kotori!” I shouted, my voice cracking. “Don’t you dare stop!”

Rusuban wasn’t having it. His construct lunged forward, its massive arms slamming into the ground on either side of Kotori. The impact sent shockwaves through the street, cracks spiderwebbing through the asphalt.

“Kotori!” Junko and I screamed in unison.

But she didn’t stop. She ducked under one arm, rolled past a thrashing vine, and kept moving, her eyes locked on Mizuko.

“STOP!” Rusuban’s voice was a deafening roar. The construct’s arms came together in a crushing motion, aiming to trap Kotori between them.

Junko screamed in rage, throwing herself at one arm, while I leapt at the other. Our combined attacks threw the arms off course, the massive limbs crashing into the ground instead of each other.

But it cost us.

I hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the wind out of me. My vision blurred, and for a moment, I couldn’t move.

“Arthur!” Junko shouted, but her voice sounded distant, muffled.

I forced myself to my feet, my legs shaking beneath me. That familiar tiredness that rounded out each night was starting to settle in. Kotori was still running, but she was slowing down. The mist was closing in again, thicker and darker than before.

“Run, Reaper!” I shouted, my voice barely audible over the chaos. “Run!”

She stumbled, her knees buckling, but she kept going. She was so close.

And then… I felt it.

A wave of exhaustion hit me like a freight train. My body felt heavy, my limbs like lead. The world around me blurred, the edges of my vision darkening.

“Not yet…please, not yet…!” I muttered, my voice slurred.

Junko dropped to one knee beside me, her odachi clattering to the ground. “I… I can’t…”

Nakamura and Eiji were down too, their bodies slumping against the rubble. Even Rusuban seemed affected, his construct faltering, the vines drooping.

The night was ending.

The Hollow Night was pulling us back, dragging us into whatever limbo we returned to when the sun rose.

“No,” I whispered, my heart pounding. “Not… yet. Not…now.”

I turned my head, my vision swimming, and saw Kotori on her knees, her arm outstretched toward Mizuko.

“Run…” I tried to say, but the word barely left my lips.

The last thing I saw was Kotori’s fingers brushing Mizuko’s hand, her eyes wide with desperation.

And then everything faded to black.

 

[RhythmThief]

???

Hollow Night

The chamber was steeped in shadows, the dim, ambient glow of the Hollow Night spilling through high windows and pulsing faintly along the veins of the obsidian walls. Around the elongated crescent table sat many figures, their faces shrouded in darkness, yet their voices carried the weight of authority. The air was thick with tension, fractured like the reality they presided over.

“I fail to see why we’re wasting time debating the obvious,” drawled a smooth, amused voice. Its owner leaned back in his chair, the faint light sharpening the edges of his silhouette. The arrogance in his tone was palpable, a smugness that seemed to ripple across the room. “Rusuban simply played the game better than the rest of you. He adapted, evolved, as we expect participants to do. If that bothers you, perhaps it’s time to reflect on your own inadequacies.”

A sharp laugh cut through the chamber, brittle and laced with derision. “Spoken like someone who’s too flippant to grasp the magnitude of the problem,” came a shrewd, female voice. Her posture was rigid, the sharpness in her tone mirrored by her tightly clasped hands, as though restraining the urge to lash out.

“This isn’t about ‘playing better,’ Koru. This is an anomaly—an irregularity that we’ve never seen before, and that makes it dangerous. Rusuban didn’t just outwit the others; he manifested a second EXS ability. Do you not see how unprecedented this is?”

“Unprecedented, perhaps,” Koru replied, the smirk practically audible in his voice. “But dangerous? Hardly. If anything, it’s fascinating. It warrants curiosity, Gold, not panic.”

“Not panic?” Gold repeated, her voice rising, incredulous. “You think the participants won’t notice something like this? That they won’t start questioning the integrity of the game if one of them can break its rules so freely?”

“The rules,” Koru said languidly, “have always been malleable. That’s what makes the game so—”

“Interesting?” Gold snapped, cutting him off. “This isn’t some petty intrigue, Koru. This is an existential threat to the order we’ve built! If the participants believe the system can be manipulated, we lose everything—control, balance, even the fear that keeps them in line.”

A soft, hesitant voice broke through the rising tension. “B-But it’s… it’s not just about the rules.” The shy, thoughtful speaker shifted in her seat, the edge of her sleeve twisting nervously in her hands. Her words carried a quiet conviction beneath the uncertainty. “If Rusuban was able to gain a second EXS ability, what’s stopping others from trying—or worse, succeeding? And if they can’t…then why him?”

The room stilled. Her question hung in the air, heavy with implication.

“Exactly,” Gold said sharply, using the silence to regain momentum. “Thank you, Nugget. That’s precisely the issue. Either someone’s tampered with the Hollow Night, or Rusuban has gained access to something outside our understanding. And in either case, it’s a threat we can’t afford to ignore.”

From the far end of the table, a figure stirred, their presence shadowed and brooding. When they finally spoke, the edgy, contemplative voice carried a weight that cut through the room like a blade.

“Speaking of threats,” they began, slow and deliberate, “the infiltration is the bigger issue.”

The tension shifted. Heads turned toward the speaker, though their features remained cloaked in shadow. The authority in their voice commanded attention.

“The hooded figure,” they continued, the syllables measured and precise. “Whoever approached Liu acted with purpose. They shouldn’t have been able to enter undetected. And yet, not only did they breach our defenses—they interfered.”

“Ah, yes,” Koru drawled, the mockery in his tone cutting through the stillness like a taunt. “The mysterious visitor. Tell me, are we absolutely certain this wasn’t just Daisuke’s EXS leaking into the poor boy’s subconscious? That much excess energy could make anyone see anything. A convenient phantom to blame, wouldn’t you say?”

“Enough,” Gold snapped, her voice sharp as a whip. The room seemed to contract under the force of her anger. “We all saw it. Someone outside this Council directly infiltrated the Hollow Night. We need to treat that as fact—not some fever dream conjured by overactive EXS energy. The question is how. Our defenses are supposed to be impenetrable.”

“And yet,” the edgy voice replied, his tone like the scrape of steel against stone, “they were here.”

Koru reclined languidly in his seat, his pearly white hair catching the faint light as he wound a strand around his finger. His expression was one of calculated boredom, but the glint in his eyes betrayed a predator’s amusement. He shifted his gaze, locking onto a girl seated a few chairs down—a girl who had, until now, been making a valiant effort to melt into the shadows.

“Hmm…” he mused, his tone lilting with mock curiosity. “Didn’t we send someone to handle that? I wonder who…?”

The silence that followed was deafening. Slowly, heads turned in unison, their focus narrowing like a blade’s edge onto the girl in question. Koru chuckled under his breath, an almost inaudible sound, as the girl muttered a heartfelt curse and shot him a glare that could have scorched the table between them.

"Indeed, the girl was reckless," came a sharp, condescending voice, slicing through the tension like a scalpel. Its owner leaned forward slightly, their figure just barely defined against the shifting gloom. “Revealing herself to the players this early? Breaking protocol? I warned you she wasn’t ready.”

“Breaking protocol?” The girl—Nightshade—spat back, her voice tinged with incredulous indignation. “You sent me out there! Let’s not pretend I leapt into the fray for fun. Someone had to investigate that foreign presence you didn’t even notice until it was already crawling through the Hollow Night like a cockroach.”

“Nightshade,” the sharp voice hissed, bristling with restrained fury. “Need I remind you that your task was to investigate—not to expose yourself in some desperate attempt to play hero.”

“I stopped them from causing more damage and killing each other, didn’t I?” Nightshade snapped, crossing her arms defiantly. “Or are we just going to pretend that letting them fling their powers around unchecked wouldn’t have ended in something worse? I did what I was sent to do.”

“You drew too much attention,” the sharp voice countered icily, their condemnation unrelenting. “And since when was it your place to dictate what the players may or may not do? Your role is to observe, to let the Hollow Night sort the rest. The foreign presence aside, the situation was under control. Your theatrics only escalated the chaos.”

Nightshade scoffed, her simmering frustration evident as she sank back into her seat, muttering under her breath. “Ungrateful jerks…”

Koru, satisfied with the fallout of his earlier taunt, leaned forward, resting his chin on one hand. His smirk was almost audible as he smoothly pivoted the conversation.

“Say,” he drawled, his voice oozing with idle curiosity, “what’s the Council’s verdict on our resident demon?”

“You mean Daisuke,” Gold corrected sharply, her tone brooking no indulgence of Koru’s flippancy.

Koru nodded, humming in a tone of lazy intrigue, as though sampling an exquisite wine. “His rampage… well, it was nothing short of spectacular.”

“Spectacular?” Nightshade shot back with a sneer, venom dripping from her words. “I bet it looked that way from your cushy seat up here. Down there, it was barbaric.”

“Barbaric?” Koru mused, his smirk deepening. “Oh, undoubtedly. But also fascinating. The transformation he underwent—the raw, untamed destruction—was unlike anything this place has seen in centuries, no? Whatever awakened within him tonight is not to be ignored. He may very well be one of the most dangerous players we’ve ever had.”

“The others too,” chimed in Nugget, her voice soft but earnest. Her hands fidgeted nervously, but her words carried a quiet conviction. “They’ve all been…so adaptable to the Hollow Night. E-Even when we sent artificial Noise after them… after Arthur and Junko…”

Her voice trailed off as her face flushed, and suddenly she clutched her cheeks, eyes shutting tight as if overwhelmed by some private horror. “Oh, Arthur… I’m so sorry! Please forgive me…!”

The sharp voice cut in, their bemusement at her outburst barely concealed. “...They’ve endured, yes. But have they truly risen to the challenge?” A note of skepticism tinged their words as they leaned forward slightly. “Most of tonight, they stumbled. Survived, yes—but not because of any extraordinary skill. It was luck. Luck… and perhaps, each other.”

“I disagree,” Koru countered, his voice laced with an almost lazy confidence. “Take Reaper, for example. She was exceptional tonight—no luck, no chance, just pure skill. She’s one to watch. Her potential might even rival Daisuke’s.”

At the mention of Reaper’s name, Nightshade stiffened ever so slightly in the background, her arms folding tighter across her chest as her gaze narrowed in silent thought. Still, she said nothing.

A friendlier voice—jovial and enthusiastic—broke the silence next. “Gotta say, I was skeptical about that new addition, but man, did he deliver!” they exclaimed, their cheer almost infectious.

There was a pause, then a faint chuckle from the sharp, condescending voice. “Ah, yes. Ryota,” they said, the faintest edge of approval in their tone. “He’s… promising. Quick to adapt. Resourceful.”

“And strong,” the jovial voice added with a laugh. “That counter against Rusuban’s mist? Impressive. Almost made me wish my Noise had gotten a shot at roughhousing with him a little – if not for that Reaper lady, anyhow.”

The sharp voice shifted, turning toward another figure who had yet to speak. Their tone was as cold as ever, but there was a notable undercurrent of curiosity.

“He was your recommendation, wasn’t he?” they asked. “I’ll admit, I was against bringing in a replacement. Furusawa was eliminated fair and square—Hoshino, as promising as she is, should have joined him, according to the rules. But I suppose it was a… fortunate coincidence we had another eligible player waiting in the wings. Almost too fortunate.”

The accusation, veiled but unmistakable, hung in the air. All eyes turned toward the shadowed figure in question, but they remained utterly still, offering no acknowledgment.

“Hmph.” The sharp voice groaned, the dissatisfaction clear as they filed the matter away for later.

The chamber dimmed further then, the flickering light at its center flaring brighter as if heralding the arrival of something—or someone. The atmosphere shifted palpably, a wave of quiet authority settling over the room.

“Enough,” said a voice from the very center of the room. Calm but commanding, it cut through the lingering murmurs like a blade.

Juno’s presence was undeniable. As the light expanded, it illuminated the fractured image of the Hollow Night projected above the council. Cracks spiderwebbed across its shimmering surface, glowing faintly with each delicate motion of his hands as he worked to mend them. His golden eyes shone with quiet intensity, and though his expression remained serene, there was a weight to it—a quiet warning that none dared ignore.

“The night is over,” he declared, his voice measured and even. “Order has been restored.”

“Barely,” the sharp voice muttered under their breath, earning a brief but sharp glance from Gold.

Juno ignored the interruption, his elegant gestures continuing to weave through the cracks in the Hollow Night’s image. “But there is something you all must know,” he said, the faint shift in his tone drawing every gaze back to him.

“What is it?” asked the smooth, amused voice. Even Koru, whose flippancy rarely wavered, sounded genuinely curious now.

Juno’s hands stilled, the projection’s glow refracting off his calm but steely expression. “The one we are looking for,” he said slowly, his words heavy with implication, “I believe they may be among this group.”

The council erupted into a hushed ripple of reactions, shifting shadows betraying their unease.

“Are you certain?” the sharp voice pressed, their skepticism giving way to something more guarded.

Juno nodded, his golden eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Certain enough,” he replied. “Let tonight be remembered as a test. And from this moment onward, so too is every night that follows. The game begins in earnest now.”

His gaze swept across the room, lingering on each shadowed figure as though daring them to speak—or to challenge him. None did.

A faint chuckle broke the tense silence, emanating from Nightshade’s seat. She leaned back, the faintest smirk curving her lips.

“Well,” she muttered, her tone dry but laced with intrigue. “This just got interesting.”

Juno remained silent, though a flicker of a smile ghosted across his lips. Then, with a final motion of his hands, the image of the Hollow Night collapsed into darkness.

The chamber fell still, steeped in shadow once more.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 70 - Eiji Hoshino

Thursday, October 19th

The first thing I noticed was the alarm clock blaring like an air-raid siren, snapping me out of unconsciousness. My hand shot out blindly, smacking at random surfaces on my bedside table—knocking over a glass of water, then a stack of papers, then my stupid watch—before finally hitting the alarm clock’s snooze button.

Relief washed over me in that brief, blessed silence, but it didn’t last. That gnawing panic set in, the same one I’d had every morning for the last three nights, like waking up and not knowing if you’re still alive or stuck in some nightmarish loop. My hands trembled as I sat up, running over my arms, my legs, my face, my sides—anywhere I could think to check.

I was all there. No gaping wounds, no vines trying to rip me apart, no sixteen-foot monsters trying to swallow me whole. I pressed a palm to my chest and exhaled deeply, sinking back into the mess of my blankets.

Still alive. Still me.

But it was a close one. Too close.

Images of the night before flashed behind my eyes like a bad movie on repeat. Seeing Nakamura in Akio’s place. Daisuke’s massive form crashing into buildings. That mysterious girl I’d encountered with Junko, the eerie glow of Rusuban’s monstrous plants, Arthur and Junko screaming as Reaper—no, Kotori—fought against impossible odds to save Mizuko.

I felt like I’d just gone twelve rounds with some cosmic force I couldn’t even name, and despite making it through, I couldn’t shake the feeling that things were going to get worse. A lot worse.

But... maybe we had something now. Something to give us a chance.

I wasn’t an optimist, never had been, but for the first time since this nightmare started, I felt like the bonds between us weren’t just hollow words and circumstance. They’d cracked last night—broken, even—but somehow, we’d managed to piece them back together under all that pressure. Maybe we’d built something stronger, something that could hold. I didn’t know for sure, but I clung to the thought like a lifeline.

Still, none of it mattered if Mizuko hadn’t made it.

The thought hit me like a sucker punch, and I jerked upright, panic blooming in my chest again. I needed to check on her. I needed to know—

THUD. THUD. THUD.

I winced as the sound of fists pounding on my door rattled my already frayed nerves.

“Ei! Get up!” my dad’s voice bellowed from the other side. “Morning jog. Now. You’re already late!”

I groaned, flopping back onto the mattress and throwing an arm over my eyes. “It’s six in the morning!” I yelled back.

“Six-fifteen, actually!” he shouted through the door. “And I don’t care. You skipped our routine and class yesterday, didn’t you? So today’s going to be extra tough. You’ve got five minutes before I drag you out myself!”

Fantastic.

I sighed, long and loud, staring up at the ceiling. The last thing I wanted to do right now was run laps around the neighborhood with my dad barking orders at me like he was training me for the Olympics. My entire body ached like I’d been hit by a truck, and the thought of jogging through the morning mist while my dad cheerfully reminded me to “push through the pain” made me want to scream into my pillow.

How was it fair that I could survive the Hollow Night, face off against Daisuke’s literal kaiju form, and deal with Rusuban’s nonsense and still have to worry about mundane crap like school and family routines? Couldn’t the universe cut me a little slack?

But no, I guess the universe didn’t work that way. There was no reset button, no pause menu. The only thing worse than running laps with my dad was letting him see I’d given up, so I grumbled under my breath and dragged myself out of bed.

“Fine, I’m coming!” I called, already pulling on a sweatshirt and shorts.

“Good!” came his reply, followed by his heavy footsteps retreating down the hall.

I paused in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection. My bright hair was a mess, my eyes had bags under them the size of small countries, and my usually calm expression looked more... distant than usual. The last few nights had taken their toll, and there was no hiding it, no matter how hard I tried.

But as I reached for my running shoes, I stopped, squeezing the back of the desk chair for support. I thought about the Hollow Night and everything I’d seen. Everything I’d survived.

There might come a time when I didn’t have this anymore. This room, this routine, this normal. Even if it was annoying—infuriating, sometimes—it was mine, and it was real.

For now, I’d embrace it, even if I had to listen to my dad yell at me the whole way.

With a sigh, I grabbed my shoes, shoved them on, and headed out the door, eager to hold onto whatever I could before the Hollow Night came for me again.

The school gates were packed. Not unusual, considering midterms were around the corner and every overachiever, slacker, and the poor souls stuck somewhere in the middle were all buzzing around, either trading notes or stressing out about the exam schedule.

For once, I wasn’t in a rush to get anywhere. It was weird, really—walking into school after everything that went down last night. The kind of chaos I’d survived with the others felt like it belonged to an entirely different universe compared to this. Here, the biggest battle was over test scores and social cliques. It was almost funny. Almost.

I straightened my blazer and walked through the gates, ignoring the stares as I passed. It wasn’t like I didn’t know what they were looking at—whether it was admiration, jealousy, or something in between, it was the same every morning.

That’s Hoshino Eiji, they were probably thinking. Top of her class, MVP of the girls’ basketball and volleyball team, and apparently “untouchable,” according to whatever rumours were making the rounds this week.

I didn’t let it get to me. Never did. Their opinions didn’t matter, and after last night, they mattered even less. But it was hard not to notice the way they parted as I walked, like I was Moses splitting the Red Sea.

Sometimes I wondered if they thought I enjoyed this—being the “perfect girl” everyone either idolized or resented. I didn’t. Not really. But appearances were important, as my dad had a penchant for repeating like a broken record, and I had a role to play. So I kept my head high, my steps purposeful, and my expression as unreadable as ever.

Still, as much as I didn’t care about what they thought, I couldn’t stop a twinge of irritation from creeping in.

If only they knew, I thought bitterly. If only they had even the slightest idea of what me, Junko, Arthur, and the others went through every night. If they knew about the blood, the pain, the desperation... maybe they’d stop looking at me like I was some unshakable ice queen and see that I was just as tired as everyone else.

Maybe even more, at this point.

I made my way down the hallway, weaving through the swarm of students, until I caught sight of someone familiar by the lockers.

She was crouched down, fiddling with her lock, but her face wasn’t its usual cheerful self. Her shoulders were slumped, and her eyes looked distant, like she was miles away from this noisy hallway.

“Morning, Ayumi,” I said, stepping closer.

She jumped a little, her head snapping up like I’d just yanked her out of a daydream. When she saw me, her expression immediately brightened, her trademark grin sliding into place like nothing was wrong.

“Eiji! Geez, you scared me!” she laughed, standing up and brushing off her skirt. “What’s with you sneaking up on people like that?”

“Didn’t think I was sneaking,” I replied, leaning against the lockers. “You just seemed... distracted.”

“Eh, maybe,” she said, shrugging. “But you’re one to talk. You look like you barely got any sleep. Less than usual, I mean.”

I froze for half a second before shaking my head. “I’m fine.”

“You sure? Because between yesterday, when I hear you completely spaced out in class, and skipping the rest of the day entirely, I’d say something’s up,” she said, narrowing her eyes at me.

I frowned. Ayumi was sharp when she wanted to be. Too sharp, sometimes.

“I just needed some air yesterday, that’s all,” I said, brushing her off. “Don’t make it a bigger deal than it is.”

She tilted her head, unconvinced, but let it go. For now.

“Fine,” she said, crossing her arms. “But you’re not the only one who’s been acting weird. I saw Liu last night.”

I blinked. “Liu? Katoru Liu? Where?”

She leaned in a little, dropping her voice like she was sharing some juicy gossip. “Outside Daiki’s house. He was just sitting there on the steps, looking... I don’t know. Wrecked? It was weird.”

My frown deepened. “Wait, Daiki? As in our Daiki? The same Daiki who spends half his time convincing us to ditch study group and play video games instead?”

“Yep, that Daiki,” Ayumi confirmed. “Didn’t you know they’re good friends?”

That caught me off guard. “Liu and Daiki? Since when?”

“Since forever, apparently,” Ayumi said with a shrug. “I mean, I didn’t know either until Daiki mentioned it a while ago, but they seem pretty close. Practically brothers.”

I didn’t know how to feel about that. Liu Katoru wasn’t exactly the type to hang out with guys like Daiki, who could charm his way through life without a care in the world. And yet, the image of Liu sitting outside his house, looking “wrecked,” was... unsettling.

“What was he doing there?” I asked, trying to keep my tone casual.

“No idea,” Ayumi admitted. “But you know how rumors spread. People were saying he got into some kind of fight with Daisuke. Junko was there. Maybe Daiki was just trying to help him cool off or something.”

That made my stomach twist. I opened my mouth to ask more, but before I could, I saw something—or rather, someone—that stopped me cold, as if just speaking her name summoned her into view.

She was at the far end of the hallway, walking with another girl hovering beside her. But something was off. Her usually sharp, guarded expression was gone, replaced by red, puffy eyes and a downturned gaze. She looked... fragile. Like she’d been crying.

She never cried.

“Come to think of it, Nakamura was absent yesterday too…Eiji?” Ayumi’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “What’s wrong?”

I didn’t answer her. My legs were already moving, carrying me away from the lockers and toward Junko.

I didn’t know what I was going to say, or even if I was ready to hear whatever had made her look like that. But I couldn’t ignore it.

I had to know.

I approached them slowly, my heart pounding in my chest.

She hadn’t seen me yet, and for a split second, I thought about turning around and walking the other way. This wasn’t exactly normal for us—me, Eiji Hoshino, voluntarily reaching out to Junko Shirogetsu, my so-called rival in every sense of the word. But I couldn’t just leave her like this. Not after last night.

Junko’s friend Emiko noticed me first. She stiffened immediately, giving me the kind of death glare that could probably kill a lesser person.

“What do you want, Hoshino?” Emiko asked, crossing her arms as she stepped slightly in front of Junko. “Now’s really not the time.”

I wasn’t intimidated—Emiko’s bark was much worse than her bite—but I kept my face neutral, refusing to rise to the bait. I glanced at Junko, who was rubbing at her eyes, clearly trying to pull herself together.

“It’s fine, Emiko,” Junko said, her voice hoarse but steady.

Emiko blinked in surprise. “What?”

“I said it’s fine,” Junko repeated. “You can go. I’ll catch up with you later.”

Emiko opened her mouth like she was about to protest, but Junko shot her a look that brokered no argument. With a huff, Emiko muttered something under her breath and walked off, though not before throwing me one last nasty glare.

When she was out of earshot, Junko turned to me. For a moment, we just stood there, not saying anything. I struggled to find the words.

“Junko, I—”

Before I could finish, she lunged forward and wrapped her arms around me, burying her face in my shoulder.

“She made it,” Junko said, her voice trembling with relief. “Mizuko woke up this morning. She’s okay.”

I froze, her words taking a second to sink in. “She... she’s okay?”

Junko nodded against my shoulder, squeezing me tighter. “She’s fine. Arthur and I walked her up to the third-year floor until…she wouldn’t let us hover over her anymore - said I should go get ready for class. Like, what? Who cares about class…?”

I let out a shaky breath, feeling tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. Before I could stop myself, I wrapped my arms around her too. The weight I’d been carrying since last night lifted just enough to make breathing a little easier.

“Reaper must’ve made it,” I said softly. “She must’ve gotten to her in time.”

“Yeah,” Junko murmured. “She did.”

We stood there for a moment, just holding onto each other like the world might fall apart again if we let go. I was vaguely aware of the stares we were getting from other students passing by, but for once, I didn’t care.

Eventually, we pulled away, both of us hastily wiping at our eyes and pretending we weren’t as emotional as we clearly were.

“Rusuban’s not here today,” Junko said, clearing her throat. “Or Daisuke. Or Liu.”

I frowned. “Or Kozuki,” I added.

Junko winced. “Yeah... I said some stupid things to her last night.”

“What kind of stupid things?” I asked, crossing my arms.

“The kind I shouldn’t have said,” she muttered, looking down at the floor.

Before I could press her further, I caught sight of someone else walking down the hallway. Any other day, I might’ve missed her – but not anymore.

She was moving slowly, almost lazily, her violet eyes half-lidded as she shuffled through the crowd like she wasn’t even aware of the people around her.

“Kotori!” Junko and I called out at the same time.

She stopped, blinking in mild confusion as we both rushed toward her.

“Wait, what—”

Before she could finish, we both pulled her into a hug.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice thick with emotion.

“Seriously,” Junko added. “You saved Mizuko’s life.”

Kotori froze, her entire body going rigid. For a moment, I thought she might actually combust from how hard she was blushing.

“Wha— I— Shut up!” she stammered, trying to squirm out of our grip. “I didn’t do it for you two or anything like that…! Mizuko and I were in a pact together, okay? If she died, it’d screw me over too…”

We both laughed, tightening our hold on her just enough to make her groan in exaggerated frustration.

“C-Come on, let go already!” she huffed, her face practically glowing red.

Reluctantly, we let her go. She straightened her black ribbon, muttering something under her breath about “emotional idiots,” but I caught the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

We were starting to attract even more attention, and I could feel the stares burning into the back of my head. Junko seemed to notice too.

“We should probably lay low for now,” she said. “Meet on the rooftop after school?”

“Sounds good,” I replied.

Kotori just shrugged, muttering, “Whatever,” before shuffling off again, her face still a little pink.

Once the hallway cleared a little, I made my way back to Ayumi, who was waiting by her locker with a curious look on her face.

“What the heck was all that about?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Just a... misunderstanding,” I said quickly, waving her off. “Junko thought I stole her gym shoes or something. It’s settled now.”

“Uh-huh,” Ayumi said, clearly not buying it but deciding not to push. “You’re so weird sometimes, Eiji.”

“Yeah, well,” I said, grabbing my books for first period, “weird works for me.”

Ayumi rolled her eyes but grinned, looping her arm through mine as we headed toward our homeroom.

As much as I tried to focus on the day ahead, I couldn’t stop the faint glimmer of hope blooming in my chest. Mizuko was alive. We had made it through another night.

I couldn’t say what the rest of the day held for us – but in that moment, I felt that, whatever it was, it was no match for us.

 

[RhythmThief]

Chapter 71 - Tsuneo Furusawa

Thursday, October 19th

The café was alive with the usual clatter and hum. Hisses of the espresso machine accompanied the faint clink of cups and saucers, and the buzz of low chatter rolled through the room like a breeze.

It was a place that should’ve felt comforting - familiar. Akio and I used to come here on weekends, sitting at this very table tucked into the corner, him nursing some frothy cappuccino while I skimmed the newspaper. He’d always marvel at the foam art of the more creative baristas we knew—usually something cutesy like a heart or a leaf—and then, with a look of quiet determination, try to replicate it at home. He’d never quite get it right, but he had a way of being happy with whatever he ended up with.

Now, though, the chair across from me was empty, and that emptiness seemed louder than all the noise around me combined.

I glanced down at my watch for what felt like the hundredth time. She was late. Typical. Some things never changed. My fingers drummed against the table, my other hand curling around the untouched cup of coffee in front of me. It was going cold. I didn’t even want it—I’d ordered it out of habit. Akio had loved this place, sure, but now the little rituals and details of it grated on me like sandpaper. The chalkboard menu by the counter, the uneven legs on the far table, the faint tang of roasted coffee beans in the air.

Everything was the same, and yet it wasn’t. It couldn’t be.

The bell over the door jingled, and my head snapped up. Finally.

She walked in, scanning the café until her eyes landed on me. As usual, she looked flawless—tailored white blouse, neatly pressed slacks, and not a hair out of place in that sleek, perfect bob of hers. It was like she’d stepped out of one of those glossy magazines you find in waiting rooms. The sight of her twisted something in my gut.

“Tsuneo,” she said with a faint smile as she approached the table. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic.”

“Sure,” I muttered, motioning to the chair across from me. I didn’t bother standing.

She slid into the chair gracefully, setting her designer handbag by her feet like it was a prop in some carefully choreographed routine. Her eyes swept over the café briefly before landing on me again.

“This place hasn’t changed at all,” she said, her voice light, almost conversational.

“No, it hasn’t,” I replied, keeping my tone as flat as the surface of the table between us.

An awkward silence followed, the kind of awkwardness I was all too familiar with when it came to her these days. She clasped her hands together on the table, her perfectly manicured nails catching the light.

“How’s Akio?” she asked finally, her voice soft, tentative.

The question landed like a punch. I swallowed hard, my jaw tightening.

“He’s the same,” I said, keeping my tone even.

Her gaze dropped to her hands, her fingers fidgeting slightly. She looked... concerned, maybe, but it didn’t feel real. Not to me.

“The same,” she repeated quietly, as if the word itself could carry all the weight I was refusing to let out.

I didn’t bother elaborating. How could I even begin to describe it? The sterile hospital room, the sound of machines beeping in rhythm with my son’s fragile life, the way time seemed to crawl and stretch in that awful place. I knew she didn’t want to hear it. Not really.

“Is he... comfortable?” she asked after a pause.

“Comfortable?” I echoed, unable to keep the edge out of my voice. “Well, as comfortable as someone in a coma can be, I guess.”

She winced, and for a fleeting moment, I felt a flicker of guilt. But it vanished as quickly as it came.

“I didn’t mean—”

“Yeah, I know what you meant,” I interrupted, leaning back in my chair.

She hesitated, her gaze shifting to the table, and for a moment, I thought she might actually look unsure of herself. But then, as if on cue, she pulled that perfect composure back into place.

“Look, I just wanted to see how you’re holding up,” she said, her voice measured. “It’s been... a long time since we’ve spoken properly. And with everything that’s happened to Akio...”

“I’m fine,” I said bluntly.

Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, searching for something. She wouldn’t find it.

“I worry about him,” she said softly, almost defensively. “He’s my son too.”

My hands curled into fists under the table, my nails digging into my palms. I forced myself to keep my voice calm, even.

“Right,” I said.

She opened her mouth to say more, but I wasn’t in the mood for whatever rehearsed line she had waiting.

“Do you think what happened to him was normal?” I asked, cutting her off.

Her brow furrowed, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” I said, leaning forward now, “do you think a healthy seventeen-year-old kid just falls into a coma out of nowhere? Because I don’t.”

“Tsuneo...”

“No,” I continued, my voice hardening. “Something doesn’t add up here. And I think I might've found out what it is.”

She stared at me, her expression unreadable. For a moment, I thought she might argue, dismiss me, or try to deflect. But instead, she just sat there, silent.

Whatever. I didn’t need her approval.

Conversations like these didn’t leave room for niceties or softening the blow, so I didn’t wait for her to respond. I leaned back, folding my arms, letting the sounds of the café filter in—a laughing couple a few tables away, the shrill of steamed milk from the counter. The kind of everyday noise that felt almost mocking, given the weight of what I was about to say.

“I’ve been looking into things,” I said, my voice low. “Akio isn’t the first. Something like this has happened before. In Osaka. Kasumi High School. Do you remember hearing about it?”

She blinked, her brow knitting slightly, though I couldn’t tell if it was confusion or recognition. “Kasumi High…?”

“Five years ago,” I pressed on. “A group of teenagers—ten of them, all perfectly healthy—fell into comas over the span of a few days. No cause, no warning. By Monday morning of the following week, they were all gone. Dead. No medical explanation. It’s like they just… faded away.”

Her expression flickered then, so brief I might have missed it if I hadn’t been watching her so closely. A faint tightening around her eyes, a tension in her jaw.

“I think I remember hearing about it on the news,” she said slowly, but her voice lacked the certainty it usually carried. “But that was years ago. What does it have to do with Akio?”

“Everything,” I said, leaning forward now. “The symptoms, the timing—it’s too similar to ignore. And there’s more.”

“More?”

I nodded, lowering my voice as though someone in the café might be listening. “The Kasumi kids weren’t connected. Different social circles, different clubs - different lives.”

Her hands, which had been resting neatly on the table, shifted slightly. She was trying to look calm, but I could see the faint tremor in her fingers.

“…That is, up until the week or so before they died,” I eventually decided to reveal. “From what the reports from other students say, they started acting…strange in their last few days. Neglecting their regular friend groups in favour of people they’d never bat an eye at before. Why would a bunch of different kids in different circles suddenly decide to come together like that?”

I studied her reaction for a beat before continuing. “Kasumi’s not all. I had to dig real hard for this, and frankly, my sources are dubious, but...a long time ago, something happened in a village called Tsukimori. It’s in the mountains, remote. Maybe you’ve heard of it.”

She frowned slightly, shaking her head. “No, I haven’t.”

“Well, there isn’t much left of it now,” I said, leaning forward slightly. “It was practically wiped off the map. But about fifty years ago, something happened there. The details are vague—almost like someone wanted them buried—but I managed to dig up a few things.”

Her gaze dropped to her coffee cup, but her hands were still. Too still.

“It started with a group of teenagers, just like Kasumi High,” I went on. “Healthy kids, no prior medical conditions. They all fell into comas over the span of a week. The villagers couldn’t explain it—doctors, priests, even an exorcist were called in, but nothing worked. By the time the sun rose the following Sunday, every single one of those kids was dead.”

I paused, letting the weight of my words hang between us, but she didn’t react. Not outwardly, at least. If anything, she seemed to be retreating inward, her shoulders stiffening slightly, her expression neutral in a way that didn’t quite fit.

“It didn’t stop there,” I continued. “The entire village—every resident—was gone within a year. Disappeared. There were no bodies, no signs of violence. Just… nothing. Like the place had been swallowed whole. All that’s left now are ruins and a few ghost stories. People say the land’s cursed.”

“That’s… horrifying,” she said, her voice quiet but even. Too even.

I nodded. “It is. And it’s too similar to ignore. Kasumi High, Tsukimori—two different times, two different places, but the same pattern. And now it’s happening again, to Akio. You see what I’m getting at, right? This isn’t random. It’s not natural.”

She was quiet, her gaze fixed on the table like it held some kind of answer. I couldn’t tell if she was processing what I’d said or trying to shut it out completely. Either way, it only made my frustration bubble to the surface.

“Don’t you think it’s strange?” I pressed. “Healthy kids, just collapsing like that? No warning, no explanation. And the timing—always clustered together, like there’s some kind of…” I trailed off, searching for the right word. “Some kind of force pulling them in.”

Her hands, which had been resting loosely on the table, suddenly tightened into fists. It was subtle, but I caught it.

“What do you think happened to Akio?” she asked, her voice so low I almost missed it.

“I don’t know yet,” I admitted. “But I’m not going to stop until I do. The day or so I’ve spent piecing all this together has felt like a week, but the more I dig, the clearer it becomes. This isn’t a medical mystery or a freak accident. Someone—or something—is behind this, and I’m going to find out who.”

Her reaction was almost imperceptible—just a flicker of something in her eyes, gone before I could put a name to it. But the silence that followed felt heavier than before, like she was holding something back.

“…What about you?” I asked, my voice softening slightly. “Don’t you want to know the truth? Don’t you care what really happened to him?”

She flinched, and for a split second, I saw something raw and vulnerable flash across her face. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by a calm mask I knew wasn’t real. She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again.

“I just…” She paused, exhaling slowly. “I think you’re letting your emotions get the better of you.”

“Emotions?” I repeated, incredulous. “You think this is about emotions? I’ve spent everything I have pulling every thread I can find, connecting the dots. I get that it hasn’t been very long, but this isn’t some desperate hunch. It’s a pattern, one no one else seems to care about, but I do. Because I’m not going to sit back and let this happen to our son.”

Her eyes dropped again, her lips pressing into a tight line. I waited for her to respond, but she didn’t. The silence stretched on, taut and suffocating.

Then, without warning, she pushed her chair back, the sharp screech of wood against tile cutting through the low hum of the café.

“I have to go,” she said abruptly, grabbing her bag.

“What?” I asked, caught off guard. “We’re not done here.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, already turning away. “Something came up. I’ll call you later.”

Before I could say anything else, she was gone, weaving through the tables and out the door. The bell above it jingled as it swung shut behind her, leaving me sitting there, stunned.

What the hell just happened?

I stared at the door for a long moment, my mind racing. She hadn’t just left because of the conversation—there was something else. The way she’d reacted when I mentioned Tsukimori, the way she’d shut down… it wasn’t normal.

Just what did she know?

I hadn’t planned on going to the hospital this afternoon. But after the café—and after watching her walk away—I needed to clear my head. Sitting at home, surrounded by Akio’s things, only made the unanswered questions louder, and right now, I wasn’t in the mood for silence. I needed to see him, even if just to remind myself why I was doing all of this.

The hospital was a little busy when I arrived, the kind of ramping hustle and bustle signaled the calm before the storm. The smell of antiseptic lingered in the air, sharp and unpleasant, but I was used to it by now. I’d memorized every step from the entrance to Akio’s room, but as I approached the nurse’s station, I noticed something unusual—a nurse standing there, glancing up as I approached.

“Mr. Furusawa,” she greeted me with a polite nod. “You’re here early.”

I nodded back. “Just needed to check in on him.”

She hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering toward the hallway. “Actually, someone’s already in there with him.”

I stopped in my tracks. “Someone’s… what? Who?”

The nurse opened her mouth to answer, but something about the situation set off alarms in my head. A visitor, at this time? Without my knowledge? My gut twisted, and before she could say the name, I muttered a quick, “Thanks,” and brushed past her.

My footsteps were heavy as I strode down the hall, heart pounding harder with every step. As I reached Akio’s door, I stopped, steeling myself for whatever I might find on the other side. Then I pushed it open.

There was a boy standing at the foot of Akio’s bed.

He was lean, and young—too young to seem out of place in this room, but something about him felt too old to fit in with Akio’s usual friends. His hair was dark, his posture casual, but there was a strange weight to his presence. He stood quietly, hands in his pockets, his gaze fixed on Akio with an expression I couldn’t quite place. Gratitude? Regret?

“Hey,” I said sharply, stepping into the room. “Who the hell are you?”

The boy didn’t flinch, didn’t even turn. His head tilted slightly, like he hadn’t expected to be interrupted, but he remained perfectly still.

“Did you hear me?” I pressed, moving closer. “Are you a friend of Akio’s? Because I don’t recognize you, and I know his friends.”

Still no response. My patience snapped. “I asked you a question!”

Finally, the boy turned to face me, his movements slow and deliberate. His dark eyes met mine, and for a moment, I felt… off balance. It wasn’t fear or intimidation, but something else—something I couldn’t name. Like standing at the edge of a cliff and realizing the drop was steeper than you thought.

“I’m sorry for intruding,” he said, bowing low. His voice was calm, steady, and polite in a way that only made my unease deepen. “I wanted to thank you.”

“Thank me?” I repeated, frowning. “For what?”

“For Akio,” he replied simply, straightening. “For raising him. For making him the person he is. Even if I only had the chance to know him for a short time… it meant everything.”

I blinked, thrown off by the sincerity in his voice. “What the hell are you talking about? How do you even know Akio?”

The boy didn’t answer right away. Instead, he smiled—a small, bittersweet smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Then he stepped away from the bed, like he was preparing to leave.

“Wait,” I said, my voice sharp. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me who you are.”

He didn’t stop.

Something about the way he moved—calm, unhurried, yet impossibly quick—set me off. Without thinking, I reached out, grabbing for his arm.

And missed.

It wasn’t just that he dodged me. It was the way he did it—effortless, fluid, like my hand had passed through thin air. For a split second, it didn’t even feel real, like he’d blurred at the edges before snapping back into focus.

“I promise,” he said softly, looking over his shoulder at me, “Akio will be fine.”

I stared at him, stunned. My hand was still outstretched, but he didn’t seem the least bit fazed by my reaction. If anything, he looked… calm. Comforting, even.

Then, without another word, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving me standing there like an idiot.

The door swung shut behind him, and I stood frozen for a moment, trying to process what had just happened.

Who the hell was that?

I turned back to Akio, my chest tightening as I looked at him. He was exactly as I’d left him—still, pale, and unresponsive. But then I noticed something.

Yesterday, his face had been completely slack, his expression empty. Now, there was the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips, barely there but unmistakable.

My stomach churned. I knew what I’d seen. I knew it hadn’t been there before.

I ran a hand through my hair, pacing the small room. That boy—whoever he was—knew something. And if he wasn’t going to tell me, I’d find another way to figure it out.

The visitation register.

The thought hit me like a bolt of lightning, and I immediately moved toward the door, pulling it open and heading back to the nurse’s station. If he’d signed in, his name would be on record. And once I had his name, I could start piecing together the rest.

My mind was racing as I walked, the questions piling up faster than I could answer them. Who was he? How did he know Akio? And what did he mean by that promise?

One thing was certain: the answers weren’t going to come to me on their own. If I wanted the truth, I was going to have to chase it down.

But if it meant bringing my son the justice he deserved, I’d be chasing it to the ends of the earth and back.

You could count on that.