The rain had been falling for days, a relentless drizzle that soaked the cracked sidewalks of the small town where Sayo Nakamura lived. Inside the gray walls of Yumehara High School, the air was thick with whispers and pointed glances, all aimed at one girl who seemed to live in a world apart.
Sayo sat in the back corner of classroom 2-B, her slender fingers nervously tracing the edge of her sketchbook. Her long, dark brown hair, soft and silky, was tied loosely with a pale pink ribbon that had once belonged to her mother. The ribbon contrasted sharply with her pale, almost translucent skin, which caught the dim classroom light with a fragile glow. Her large hazel eyes were windows to a gentle soul, shimmering with quiet longing and a flicker of hope. Her face was delicate and expressive, framed by fine, wispy strands that escaped her loose braid, and her slight frame gave her a fragile, almost ethereal presence. She was dressed simply in her school uniform—a crisp white blouse with a navy skirt—but to her classmates, she was a ghost of innocence lost.
Around her, the classroom buzzed with disinterest and contempt.
"Look at her," sneered Kenji, lounging back in his chair with an arrogance born from privilege and bullying. He was tall and broad-shouldered, standing head and shoulders above most of his classmates. His thick black hair was tousled carelessly, falling just over his sharp, dark eyes that sparkled with mischief and cruelty. His chiseled jawline and confident smirk made him the natural leader of the group—the kind of boy who never had to try to get attention. His voice was deep and commanding, his tone dripping with scorn as he mocked Sayo.
"Still watching those dumb romance animes like a little kid," he said with a sneer, making sure everyone could hear.
Beside him, Mika leaned forward, the queen bee of their clique. Her short blonde hair was styled perfectly to frame her sharp green eyes, which flicked coldly toward Sayo. Her features were angular and sharp, her high cheekbones giving her an icy beauty that matched her biting words.
"Yeah, like anyone normal cares about that stuff," Mika said, her lips curling into a cruel smile. "Maybe if you spent less time daydreaming, people wouldn't hate you."
Sayo's heart clenched as she lowered her gaze, biting her lip to stop from crying. She had heard it all before—the teasing, the isolation, the cold shoulders. The word "weird" had been tattooed on her since middle school, branded on her by the narrow minds of her town. Her love for fantasy and romance made her a target, a scapegoat for their boredom and cruelty.
Yet, beneath the hurt and loneliness, there was something unbroken in her—a secret refuge she guarded fiercely.
At night, when the world was quiet, she curled up with her laptop and her favorite anime series. In those glowing screens, she found a world that made sense—a world where love was tender and true, where whispered promises beneath cherry blossoms could change fate. The characters' heartfelt confessions and soft candlelit moments spoke to her like a whispered promise that somewhere, love could be real and worth fighting for.
After school, the cruel joke began.
A group of classmates who had mocked her all year approached with false smiles and eyes glittering with mischief.
Kenji led the pack, his swagger more confident than ever. "Hey, Sayo," he called out, voice dripping with mock kindness, "we're having a little get-together tonight. You like weird stuff, right? You gotta come try our demon summoning ritual. It's going to be hilarious."
Sayo's heart twisted painfully. Was this a prank? A trap? But beneath the humiliation, a strange hope flickered—a chance, maybe, to belong. To prove herself, or at least to be noticed. Against every warning inside her, she nodded.
That night, the forest near the edge of town was eerily silent. Moonlight spilled in silver beams through the dense canopy, casting long, twisting shadows across the forest floor. The air was cool and damp, filled with the scent of moss and earth.
Around a clearing stood flickering candles, their flames wavering and dancing as a cold wind whispered through the leaves. Phones in hand, the classmates formed a rough circle, ready to capture every moment on camera, eager for humiliation and ridicule.
Sayo's trembling hands gripped an old, tattered book she had found tucked away in the dusty back corner of the town library—a tome filled with ancient symbols and strange words she barely understood but had painstakingly copied from an online forum. She stepped into the center of the circle, heart pounding so loudly she feared it would drown out her voice.
"By the bond of shadow and light, I call upon the ancient rite. Open the gate, break the seal, let the demon's presence be real," she whispered, her voice fragile but determined.
Around her, the group laughed nervously, their eyes gleaming with cruel anticipation, ready to mock her at the first sign of failure.
Then, everything changed.
A violent surge of crimson light exploded from the circle, swirling like a tempest. The candles flickered wildly, then were extinguished in a sudden gust. The ground trembled beneath her feet. The air filled with a sound like a thousand voices crying out in unison—both terrifying and beautiful.
Sayo closed her eyes, bracing herself for the inevitable humiliation.
But when she opened them, she was no longer in the forest.
She stood in a place that seemed woven from dreams and nightmares.
Above her, the sky was a swirling tapestry of violet and silver stars, though it was the middle of the day. The air shimmered with a faint, otherworldly light.
Around her stretched a landscape of crystal trees whose leaves tinkled like glass in the soft breeze, and rivers flowed with a gentle, blue glow that illuminated the ground beneath her feet.
In the distance rose a castle carved from gleaming amethyst, its spires reaching upward like the fingers of a giant reaching for the swirling sky.
From the shadows stepped a figure both terrifying and mesmerizing.
Tall and regal, his presence commanded the space like a living storm. His hair was a cascade of midnight black waves that fell just past his shoulders, framing a face chiseled like a statue carved from obsidian. Sharp cheekbones, a strong jawline, and eyes that burned like molten garnets held an intensity that pierced through the very air.
He wore a long black coat that billowed gently despite the stillness around them, adorned with subtle patterns that shimmered like embers. His lips curved into a small, knowing smile—half amusement, half something darker.
The Demon Prince.
Sayo's breath caught in her throat. She wanted to scream, to run, to wake up from this impossible dream—or nightmare. But somewhere deep inside, a spark ignited.
For the first time in her life, she was seen.
Not for her awkwardness, not for her strange tastes.
But as someone important.
As someone destined.
This was only the beginning.