Ryujin standing outside a small, slightly rundown shop near the backstreets of Shinjuku. The faded sign said "Parlor," but according to his intel, someone inside secretly worked as a tattoo artist. Ryujin sighed, pushing his messy hair back.
"Yareyare... (good grief)Kira's busy with her office work, so it's just me today. Guess I'll handle this myself," he muttered, adjusting the strap of his messenger bag.
He glanced at the list in his hand.
"This is the next shop... Let's see if it's the right one, or just another dead end," he thought and pushed open the door.
As he entered, he accidentally bumped into someone — a man dressed entirely in black, from his hoodie to his sneakers, a black mask covering half his face.
"Ah, gomen (sorry)!" Ryujin apologized instinctively.
The man didn't respond — just kept walking stiffly out of the shop. Ryujin watched him disappear around the corner, feeling a strange uneasiness.
"Omoshiroi... (interesting...)That's suspicious," Ryujin thought, but shook it off and turned to the shopkeeper at the counter.
"Sumimasen (excuse me)," Ryujin said, pulling out his phone and showing a picture of a crescent moon tattoo. "Do you know anyone here who does tattoos? Specifically... this design?"
The shopkeeper's expression immediately darkened. He glanced at the door nervously and shook his head.
"No tattoos here. We don't do that," he said coldly. "Now leave. I don't want trouble."
Before Ryujin could argue, the shopkeeper turned his back on him. Ryujin clenched his jaw but decided not to push it further. He walked out, stepping into the sunlight.
"Chikusho... (damn it])That was too fishy. There's definitely something here," he thought, narrowing his eyes. "I'll dig deeper into this place."
---
Meanwhile, across town at a quiet park near Yukimura Corporation, Kira and Hanae sat side-by-side on a wooden bench. Kira was still coughing, trying to recover from the shock of Hanae's sudden question.
After wiping her mouth with a tissue, Kira glared at her younger sister.
"What the hell, Hanae? Who are you even talking about?! boyfriend?? Me? Seriously?"
Before Hanae could answer, a strange tension filled the air.
From across the path, a figure approached — dressed head to toe in black, moving with slow, unsettling steps. His face was partially hidden by a mask, and in his gloved hand... gleamed the edge of a knife.
In a low, hoarse voice, he whispered, "Kira... you will be mine now."
Hanae instinctively clutched Kira's arm, her fingers digging into her sister's skin.
"Nee-chan... look at his hand!" she whispered, her voice cracking. A wave of cold terror washed over her as she pointed with a trembling finger. "He has a knife!"
Kira's blood turned to ice. Her instincts kicked in immediately, but her mouth had gone dry, her heart hammering against her ribcage.
"Listen carefully, Hanae," she whispered back, forcing her voice to remain steady despite the fear clawing at her throat. "On my signal... we run. Okay?"
"Un!...(okay!...)" Hanae nodded, her eyes wide with panic, her breath coming in short, rapid gasps.
"Now!" Kira shouted.
The two girls sprinted, their footsteps pounding against the pavement as the masked man chased after them, gaining ground fast. Kira's mind raced — she couldn't let Hanae get hurt. No matter what. The sound of his footsteps behind them seemed impossibly close, each thud sending a fresh jolt of fear down her spine.
I have to protect her. I have to protect her, she thought desperately, acutely aware of her sister's labored breathing beside her.
Hanae ran blindly, her vision blurred with tears of terror. Each ragged breath burned in her lungs as she struggled to keep pace with her sister. The rustle of the pursuer's clothing seemed to whisper in her ears, promising horrors she couldn't bring herself to imagine.
Spotting a narrow alleyway ahead, Kira shoved Hanae into a shallow, hidden alcove behind some trash bins.
"Stay hidden!" Kira ordered, her voice quaking despite her attempts to sound brave, before taking off again, luring the pursuer away.
Hanae, crouched and shaking violently, peeked out helplessly. Her heart threatened to burst from her chest, and she pressed a trembling hand over her mouth to stifle her sobs.
Nee-chan... I have to do something. Someone... anyone... help us! she prayed, looking around desperately for someone nearby, every shadow making her flinch in terror.
Meanwhile, Kira ran as fast as her heels would allow — her legs burning, lungs screaming for air. Each frantic footfall echoed her thundering heartbeat. The sound of pursuit never faded, growing closer with each second. But fate was cruel. Her foot twisted awkwardly, and she stumbled, crashing to the ground with a cry of pain and despair.
The man approached, chuckling darkly, his knife glinting under the pale sun.
Kira's body froze, paralyzed by a primal fear that seemed to turn her veins to lead. Her mind screamed for help while cold sweat beaded on her forehead. She squeezed her eyes shut, tears streaming down her face as her body trembled uncontrollably.
"help me someone... please..." she whispered through chattering teeth.
And the scene faded into darkness.
---