Chapter 1 – The Silent Boy
The city of Kyoto at night was a paradox of serenity and chaos. Lanterns flickered on the narrow streets, their soft glow casting long shadows on the stone paths. The aroma of ramen from nearby stalls mingled with the scent of rain-soaked earth. But beyond the warm light of the marketplace lay another world—a world of blood, blades, and whispered secrets.
Kaito Ren, a 17-year-old high school student, walked through these streets as if he were part of the darkness itself. His black hoodie was soaked from the evening drizzle, but his pace remained steady, his eyes scanning every corner with sharp precision. Most people saw him as a quiet, withdrawn boy with nothing remarkable about him. No friends. No hobbies. Just the loner in the back of the classroom who never spoke unless called upon.
But there was more to Kaito than met the eye.
In the underworld, he was known by a single name—Shin, the Ghost Blade. Few had seen his face, and those who had… rarely lived to tell the tale.
Kaito's footsteps slowed as he reached a small, abandoned shrine at the edge of the city. A broken stone fox statue sat near the gate, moss covering its surface. It was here that Ryo, his master, awaited him.
"You're late," Ryo's voice emerged from the shadows, deep and cold like steel. The man stepped into the moonlight, his tall frame clad in black, his katana sheathed at his waist. His hair was streaked with gray, but his eyes were sharp, glowing faintly like a wolf's.
"Had to make sure I wasn't followed," Kaito replied, his tone as calm as ever.
Ryo smirked. "Good. You're learning. Tonight, you'll need every ounce of that caution. The man who killed your father has returned to Kyoto."
Kaito's fingers twitched at the mention of his father. Memories flashed—his father's lifeless body lying in a pool of blood, the house set ablaze, the faint sound of a girl crying in the distance. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palm.
"Where is he?" Kaito asked, his voice trembling slightly, though his eyes burned with determination.
"At the Crimson Lotus Club. But remember, Kaito—revenge without patience is suicide. You've been trained for this moment, but don't let your anger control you."
Kaito nodded, though his mind screamed otherwise. He had spent years preparing for this. Each scar on his body was a reminder of that burning night when everything he loved was taken from him.
The Crimson Lotus Club was a place of wealth and filth. Red lanterns hung outside the entrance, and music thumped through its walls. Inside, men in suits and women in glittering dresses laughed, drank, and danced.
Kaito slipped through the back entrance like a shadow. His black hoodie and jeans made him look like a delivery boy or a wandering teenager—not a trained killer.
Through the crowd, he spotted him—Toru Sato, the man who had led the massacre of Kaito's family. Toru was older now, his once-sharp face now weathered, but those cold eyes were unmistakable.
Kaito's heart pounded as his hand brushed the handle of the hidden blade inside his jacket.
"Not here. Not yet," Kaito muttered under his breath, forcing himself to step back. His master's words echoed in his mind: Revenge without patience is suicide.
He turned to leave but froze when he felt a pair of eyes on him.
From across the room, a girl in a white dress stood watching him. Her black hair framed her face like silk curtains, and her gaze was calm yet piercing. Aika Yukimura.
Something about her felt familiar. But where had he seen her before?
She tilted her head slightly, almost as if she recognized him. A faint smile curved on her lips, and before Kaito could react, she disappeared into the crowd.
Outside, rain began to fall harder, the droplets soaking Kaito's hoodie. He stood under a streetlamp, staring at the ground, trying to make sense of what just happened.
Why did that girl's eyes look like… her?
The memory returned—on the night of his family's death, a girl's face had flashed in the smoke and fire. She had been crying, calling out to someone. And her eyes… they were the same as Aika's.
When Kaito returned home, the old wooden house was silent. He entered his room, where a single candle flickered on his desk. He opened the drawer and pulled out a silver locket—his mother's. Inside was a tiny family photo of him as a child, standing between his smiling parents. His hands trembled as he held it.
"I will kill them all," he whispered, his voice trembling with rage. "Even if it costs my life."
A faint creak came from the hallway. Kaito reached for his blade instantly, his reflexes sharper than lightning. He slid the door open, only to find a folded letter lying on the floor.
The letter bore the seal of the Yukimura Clan—the very clan he swore to destroy.