Akira Kageyama’s head throbbed like a taiko drum.
He woke slowly, eyelids heavy, the world tilting in and out of focus.
The first thing he noticed was the cold bite of metal around his wrists and ankles.
Chains.
Thick, old-fashioned chains bolted to a heavy wooden chair.
His arms were pulled behind the backrest, shoulders aching from the strain.
Blinking hard, Akira lifted his gaze.
The room was dim, lit only by flickering candlelight and the pale glow of paper talismans—hundreds of them—plastered across the walls, ceiling, and floor.
Each slip of washi paper bore dense, blood-red kanji that seemed to pulse faintly, as if alive.
The air smelled of incense, old wood, and something metallic underneath.
”Wh… what the hell?” His voice came out hoarse, cracking.
“Where am I?
Hey—anyone there?!”
A low chuckle answered from the shadows to his right.
Footsteps echoed softly.
A tall, slim man stepped into the candlelight.
He wore a crisp black uniform with silver trim—something between a modern suit and traditional onmyōji robes.
His face was sharp, almost fox-like, with a mischievous glint in his dark eyes.
A messy ponytail of ink-black hair fell over one shoulder.
He looked no older than thirty, yet carried an aura of effortless authority.
”Well, well.
Sleeping beauty finally wakes,” the man said lightly, smirking as he circled the chair once.
“Took you long enough, Kageyama Akira.”
Akira strained against the chains, heart hammering.
“Who are you?
What is this place?
Let me go!”
The man stopped directly in front of him and leaned casually against a wooden pillar covered in talismans.
“Straight to the point.
I like that.
Alright, quick version—because the higher-ups are already sharpening their blades.” He spread his hands theatrically.
“You tried to kill one of my students last night.
Nearly succeeded, too.
Sliced her shoulder open before we could drag you off her.
But here’s the fun part…”
His smirk widened.
”There’s something ancient living inside you.
A demon so old it remembers when Japan was still called Wa.
We call it Gashin—the Devouring Eclipse.
It’s been sealed for centuries, but last night it woke up and decided to wear your body like a suit.”
Akira stared, mouth slightly open.
The words refused to settle in his brain.
“You’re insane.
I don’t… I didn’t do anything like that.
This is some kind of sick joke, right?”
The man’s grin only grew.
He pushed off the pillar and took two slow steps closer, then crouched so they were eye-level.
“Name’s Kairo-sensei.
Or just Kairo, if you survive long enough to become my problem.
And no, kid, this isn’t a joke.
The talismans are the only thing keeping Gashin from tearing its way out of your chest right now.”
Akira blinked rapidly, trying to process the madness.
His head spun.
Memories flickered—walking home from his part-time job, a strange pressure in his chest, then… nothing.
Just black.
Kairo stood up again, still smiling, but something sharper entered his expression.
“Here’s the deal I’m offering.
I want you as my student.
Yeah, even with that monster inside you.
You’ve got potential—raw, stupid, dangerous potential.
But the higher-ups want you executed before sunrise.
One condition, and I can keep you breathing.”
He leaned down again, close enough that Akira could smell faint cigarette smoke on his uniform.
His voice dropped, still playful but edged with steel.
”You belong to me for the next three years.
Full obedience.
You train when I say train.
You fight when I say fight.
You keep that demon on a leash, or I’ll be the one who puts you down personally.
In return, I’ll teach you how to control Gashin instead of letting it control you.
And best of all…” Kairo tapped Akira’s chained wrist with one finger, “you won’t be executed.
Understood?”
For a second the room was silent except for the faint rustle of talismans.
Then Akira exploded.
”Why the hell am I even here?!” he shouted, chains rattling violently as he lunged forward as far as they allowed.
“I didn’t do anything!
I was just walking home—there was no student, no demon, nothing!
You people kidnapped me and now you’re spinning crazy stories?
Let me go, you bastard!”
Kairo sighed theatrically, rubbing the back of his neck.
Then he suddenly burst into a goofy, bright laugh that echoed off the walls—completely at odds with the tension in the room.
”Man, you’ve got fire.
Good.
Gashin likes fire.” He wiped a fake tear from the corner of his eye, still chuckling.
“Look, kid… if you want the truth—the real truth about what you are and why this happened—then shut up and listen.
Because the second I walk out that door without an answer, the execution squad walks in.”
He straightened up, hands in his pockets, that fox-like smirk returning.
”So.
What’s it gonna be, Akira?
Student… or corpse?”