Kaito slouched against the graffiti-stained wall of a Kyoto alley, the neon glow of Gion’s nightlife pulsing beyond the shadows. His black hoodie hid the scars on his arms, but not the heat in his veins—a demon’s curse sealed in his blood since birth. At seventeen, he’d learned to drown its whispers with cheap ramen and street fights. Tonight, though, the whispers were screams. Find it. Break it. Burn it all. He shook his head, spitting on the pavement. “Shut up, you bastard.”

The air thickened, heavy with the scent of incense and something fouler—decay. Kaito’s eyes narrowed as a figure emerged from the fog: a girl in a miko’s red hakama, her dark hair pinned with a jade comb. She clutched a talisman, its kanji glowing faintly. “You’re Kaito, aren’t you?” Her voice was steady, but her eyes flickered with fear. “I’m Hana. You’re in danger.”

“Danger’s my middle name, shrine girl.” Kaito smirked, but his hand drifted to the stolen katana at his hip. The demon in him stirred, sensing her power. “What’s a miko doing in a dump like this?”

Hana’s gaze hardened. “Tracking a yokai. It’s hunting you. Because of that.” She pointed to his chest, where a faint red thread pulsed beneath his skin, invisible to most. Kaito froze. No one knew about the thread—not his deadbeat dad, not the gangs he ran with. “How the hell—”

A guttural roar cut him off. The alley warped, shadows twisting into a hulking yokai with six eyes and claws like scythes. Hana shoved Kaito aside, her talisman flaring. “Stay back!” she shouted, chanting a Shinto prayer. The yokai lunged, and Kaito’s demon roared to life. His vision burned red, and the katana sang as he slashed, cleaving the beast’s arm. Black ichor sprayed, but the yokai only laughed, its voice a chorus of screams.

Hana’s chant faltered. “It’s too strong!” she gasped, blood trickling from her lip. Kaito grabbed her wrist, dragging her toward the alley’s mouth. “Run, damn it!” They stumbled into Gion’s crowded streets, the yokai’s roar echoing behind. Tourists parted, oblivious to the supernatural chaos. Kaito’s heart pounded, the demon urging him to fight, to kill.

They ducked into a shrine’s courtyard, its torii gate offering fleeting safety. Hana collapsed, her talisman crumbling to ash. “It’s not just a yokai,” she panted. “It’s tied to you. To the curse. To Yomi.”

“Yomi?” Kaito snorted, hiding his unease. “The underworld? That’s fairy-tale crap.”

“It’s real,” Hana snapped. “And you’re part of it. I saw you in a vision—your past life. You were there when the sky bled, a thousand years ago.” Her eyes softened, almost pleading. “You’re not just a delinquent, Kaito. You’re chosen.”

“Chosen for what? To die?” Kaito’s laugh was bitter. The red thread in his chest burned, and the demon whispered again: She lies. Trust no one. He stepped back, grip tightening on his katana.

Before Hana could answer, footsteps echoed. A tall boy in a tailored coat approached, his glasses glinting under the shrine’s lanterns. “Hana, you’re reckless,” he said, voice smooth but cold. “And you, Kaito, are a liability.”

“Who the hell are you?” Kaito growled.

“Ren,” the boy said, adjusting his glasses. “And I know what you are. The demon’s host. The first thread of Yomi’s tapestry.” He held up a scroll, its edges stained with blood. “We’re all bound—me, Hana, and another you’ll meet soon. If we don’t stop the ritual, Kyoto burns.”

Hana’s face paled. “Ren, you weren’t supposed to—”

A haunting melody cut through the night, a voice like silk and starlight. The air shimmered, and a girl with silver hair appeared, her idol outfit torn. “Too late,” she sang, her eyes locking on Kaito. “The yokai prince has woken. And he’s coming for you.”

Kaito’s demon screamed, and the red thread pulsed brighter. The shrine’s lanterns flickered out, plunging them into darkness. A clawed hand burst from the ground, and the idol girl’s song turned to a scream.

Chapter 1: The Demon’s First Cry

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