The kids were finally down, the nightly chaos subdued at last. Freya had argued about brushing her teeth, Kai had grumbled through his bedtime story, and Aloy had fought sleep like it was a mortal enemy until I started watching a couple episodes of an anime which she melted to.
For a brief moment, the house was still. My body felt heavy, but my mind refused to settle. That's when I heard her voice from the bedroom.
"Orion," Kerstie called, that familiar whine threading through the syllables. "Can you come rub my back before bed? It's acting up again."
I sighed quietly, rubbing the bridge of my nose. Of course it is.
When I stepped into the bedroom, she was already sprawled across the blankets in one of my old hoodies, the soft glow of her phone lighting her face. The sound of nonsensical short videos flowing from one swipe to the next was entirely too loud. She looked tired — always did these days — but she still tried to muster a smile, the kind she used to give effortlessly.
"You took your time," she said in a half tease, half accusation with a pout. "You know I can't sleep until you help me relax."
"Yeah," I muttered, forcing a small smile. "Just finished putting Aloy down."
I turned on her sleep playlist. Gentle piano music mixed with rainfall filled the room, and I began rubbing her shoulders, working my thumbs into the familiar knots that never seemed to go away. She sighed softly, that mix of pain and relief I'd memorized over the years.
"Mmm… that's it. You always know where to press."
It was routine. Automatic. I didn't need to think about it. My hands moved, but my mind was elsewhere — lightning, Rukia, and that name echoing faintly in the back of my skull feeling more like haze than a word. Rai-. I just can't seem to make out the rest.
"Can you do my feet too?" Kerstie mumbled, already half-melting into the pillow.
I hesitated. Just a fraction of a second, but long enough for guilt to creep in. "Yeah. Sure." I can never seem to give her my full attention when I do this anymore, maybe it's laziness, complacency or my growing disinterest.
But, I worked her feet, tucked the blanket around her legs, and dimmed the light. She looked up at me with sleepy eyes, a faint smile on her lips that felt… forced.
"You've been quiet tonight," she murmured. "Everything okay?"
"Just tired," I said. The safest lie I had.
She studied me for a moment. For all her clinginess, Kerstie wasn't stupid. She was sharp, too sharp sometimes. But she didn't push it. She just reached for my hand, gave it a squeeze that didn't quite land the way it used to.
"Love you," she whispered.
I hesitated. "Yeah. Love you too." The words I once held guarded and sacred in my life, now felt like another hollow performance.
By the time I left the room, she was already snoring softly, the kind of deep, uneven sound that came from sheer exhaustion. I stood there for a moment, watching the slow rise and fall of her shoulders.
I wanted to feel something. Guilt. Warmth. Connection.
Instead, all I felt was distance, like I was watching my life from a few feet outside my own skin.
I grabbed my keys and slipped on a jacket, trying not to wake her, but the door creaked just enough.
"Mmm… where're you going?" she mumbled groggily.
"Corner store," I said softly. "Just grabbing snacks."
"Bring me something sweet," she muttered before rolling back over. "Chocolate or whatever."
"Yeah. Sure thing."
I stepped outside into the cool night air, the door closing behind me with a soft click.
For the first time all day, I could breathe. No noise. No demands. Just me, the moonlight, and a mind full of ghosts.
The street was quiet, just the hum of distant traffic and the whisper of wind through the trees. My thoughts drifted back to the lightning, the storm that lived beneath my skin now, and the woman who had somehow become part of it.
Rukia.
Soul Society.
All of it felt like a dream.
Except the dream was the only part that felt real.
The corner store was nearly empty, just the hum of the fluorescent lights and the faint buzz of an old refrigerator that sounded like it was dying.
I grabbed a basket and started down the aisles, pretending to look for snacks. The truth was, I didn't even know what I wanted. Maybe something spicy. Maybe something sweet. Maybe something that made me forget.
The shelves were lined with familiarity — the same chips, candy, and cheap drinks that had been here since forever. I caught my reflection in the glass door of the freezer section. My hair was a mess. My eyes… they didn't look like mine anymore. There was something in them — a faint electric shimmer when the light hit just right.
It's fine, I told myself. You're just tired. You've been tired for a long time.
I reached for a chocolate bar for Kerstie, then grabbed a mountain dew for myself. My fingers brushed against the bottle cap, and a tiny spark jumped between them, just enough to make me flinch.
"Great," I muttered under my breath. "Static cling, my superpower."
The clerk, a guy barely old enough to shave, glanced up from behind the counter. "You say something?"
"Nah," I said quickly. "Just talking to myself. I hear Static Shock is getting a comic reboot."
He nodded, like that was the most normal thing in the world at 11 p.m. in a dead-end town, maybe it was. I paid, thanked him, and stepped back out into the quiet street.
The air was cool, a still, empty kind of night where the world felt paused. My footsteps echoed softly against the pavement as I walked past the dim streetlights toward home.
That's when it happened. That strange, almost imperceptible shift.
Like the air got heavier. The silence sharper, I felt like I was being watched. No, not watched… hunted.
Every instinct in my body screamed wrong. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end.
I slowed, scanning the street. The sodium lights flickered. The shadows stretched just a little too far, like something was standing behind them, waiting.
Then I felt it — that same dense pressure that had brushed against me the night I met Rukia. But this wasn't her.
This was cold like a predator. Hungrier.
A low, guttural growl rolled through the air.
My hand tightened around the bottle of iced tea — ridiculous, I know. Like I could fight off whatever this was with a beverage.
Then the streetlight above me shattered — glass rained down like sharp, glittering rain. That's when I saw it.
It crawled out from the alley like a nightmare forcing itself into the waking world.
At first, I thought it was a warped shadow until it moved against the light. The thing was huge, easily twelve feet tall, its limbs too long for its body, each joint bending just slightly the wrong way. Its mask gleamed in the dim streetlight, smooth and bone-white, shaped like a twisted jackal skull with sharp teeth curling outward in a grin too wide to be human.
Patches of inky black flesh clung to its form like smoke made solid, constantly writhing and shifting as if its body couldn't decide what shape it wanted to hold. When it breathed, the air around it seemed to shimmer, warping with spiritual pressure so thick it pressed against my chest like the air before a thunderstorm.
Its eyes — if you could call them that — were twin rings of burning red light sunken deep into the sockets of the mask. They weren't angry. They weren't even hungry in the way an animal is hungry. They were empty, like something that had forgotten what it was supposed to feel long ago.
When it roared, it wasn't just sound, it was vibration, a bone-deep scream that rattled windows and sent a jolt of panic through every fiber of my being.
My heart lurched into my throat. No. No no no—
I turned to run, but my body moved on instinct. My right hand lifted — lightning flickered across my fingertips, wild and untamed.
"Special Beam Byakurai!"
The bolt cracked through the night sky, a desperate, half-remembered spell that seared the darkness. It hit and barely slowed the monster down.
The Hollow roared, lunging.
I stumbled backward, heart pounding, trying to call up more energy, anything, as it closed the distance.
"Rukia!" I shouted without thinking, even though I knew she wasn't there.
And then — just as its claws came down — a ripple of power tore through the air.
The air split with another unearthly roar as the Hollow lunged, claws tearing up asphalt.
"Fuck—!" I barely managed to roll as its arm smashed into the spot where I'd just been standing, cracking the pavement like it was drywall. Instinct screamed louder than thought, and I took off down the street, boots pounding the concrete.
"Goddamn Japan," I muttered between ragged breaths, "I come here to clear my head and this is what I get? Freakin' hornless wendigo lookin' yokai—" I ducked under a low-hanging sign as the monster crashed through a row of parked bikes behind me. "—I never had to deal with this bullshit in America!"
My hand went to my jacket out of pure habit, fingers brushing cold steel. The Glock. Useless. I froze mid-stride, cursing under my breath. "Right… spiritual bullshit. Normal gun, not gonna do a damn thing."
The Hollow's growl rolled through the narrow street like thunder.
I whipped around a corner, boots sliding on wet pavement, and threw out my hand. "Byakurai!"
Nothing. Just a faint spark that fizzled at my fingertips like static.
"Oh, come on!"
Every nerve screamed danger a split second before the thing dropped from above, slamming its claws into the ground where I'd been standing. I dove sideways, shards of concrete peppering my face.
Adrenaline and panic wrestled for control. My instincts were there — too slow to kill, too fast to think. I swung my arm again, feeling the faint crackle of lightning build around my hand, and let it fly. The blast went wide, searing a hole through a lamppost instead.
The Hollow shrieked and barreled into me like a truck. Pain exploded through my chest as I was launched backward. Glass shattered and metal crumpled around me as I crashed onto the hood of a parked car, spiderwebbing the windshield.
"Son of a—" I coughed, dragging in a wheezing breath. My vision doubled. "How the hell do the Winchester brothers do this shit every week?!"
The Hollow's shadow loomed closer, its mask gleaming in the streetlight. I could feel the air trembling with its next roar, and for the first time in a long while — I wasn't sure I was walking away from this one.
The Hollow's mask opened wide, a cavern of teeth and hunger, its breath reeking like ozone and rot. I barely got my arms up as it slammed me against the broken car, metal groaning under the weight. The world tunneled down to that massive white maw closing in. Too close, too fast.
"Shit—shit—shit—" I thrust my hands up on instinct, and lightning flared between them.
A crackling staff of blue-white energy burst into existence, the creature's jaws clamping down on it with a grinding shriek. Sparks flew, lighting the street like a camera flash as I strained to hold it back, the spiritual pressure pressing against me like a vice.
Panic crawled up my throat — raw, animal fear. Then, through the chaos, a single quote surfaced like a life raft: "People who panic die. People who remain calm survive."
Adam Savage, words of the mythbuster himself, coming in clutch to save my life for a second time in my life.
"Yeah? Well… screw dying tonight!"
I roared and forced every ounce of will into the lightning. Power surged down my arms, the crackle turning into a thunderclap as I let it explode outward. The Hollow screamed, staggering back in a burst of light. The shockwave sent me flying too, tumbling across the asphalt.
I hit hard, rolling until I finally stopped against a curb. Coins, keys, and a cheap lighter skittered away across the street. My ribs screamed when I tried to breathe.
"God—dammit…" I wheezed, clutching my side and forcing myself upright. "Pretty sure I just broke something important."
The Hollow recovered quickly, shaking off smoke and twitching with rage. It was still hungry — and pissed.
I staggered to my feet, scanning the alley. Street sign. Broken car. A pile of trash bags. Nothing useful. Then my eyes landed on the metal street light half-bent by the earlier blast.
A thought sparked.
"Alright… advantage, advantage…" I muttered, forcing my breathing steady as I limped toward it. "Come on, think. You've got lightning, a brain, and a death wish. Use one of those."
I find myself starting to understand why Spiderman talks so much during his fights in the comics. It distracts from the pain of getting knocked around.
The Hollow shrieked again, charging. I gritted my teeth and reached for the storm still humming faintly in my veins.
The Hollow lunged again — faster this time, fury turning it into a blur of claws and muscle.
I stumbled back, adrenaline pounding so hard I could hear my pulse in my ears. My eyes darted to the streetlamp flickering behind me. Its metal frame buzzed faintly with power. A stupid, half-formed idea sparked in my brain, but stupid was all I had left.
"Alright, big guy," I rasped, clutching my ribs with one hand and raising the other. "Let's play conductor."
I positioned myself right in front of the lamp, legs trembling, lightning still crackling faintly around my fingertips. The Hollow roared and charged.
I pulled everything I had left into that one moment, every spark, every shred of spirit energy and tried something I barely learned from Rukia.
The world flashed white-blue. For a split second, lightning replaced motion. The Hollow's claws sliced through where I'd been an instant before and my body reappeared to the side, pain lancing through every muscle.
Before I could think, I raised my hand, lightning spiraling down my arm. "Byakurai!"
The beam ripped through the night, searing the air as it struck the Hollow square in the chest, but then the energy arced, catching the streetlamp's live wire. The bolt exploded, branching through the metal and the power lines overhead. Electricity crackled wildly, overloading everything in sight.
For a heartbeat, the alley was day-bright.
The Hollow shrieked, convulsing as the surge tore through its mask. The ground erupted in sparks and shards of concrete, the shockwave sending me sprawling again.
I hit pavement hard, ears ringing, skin tingling from residual charge. My breath came in ragged gasps as I tried to push up on shaking arms.
"Ha… hah—oh fuck…" I coughed out a laugh, tasting blood. "Okay, note to self—lightning plus city power grid equals really bad idea." I half cry between groans.
The Hollow, though wounded, wasn't down. Its form twitched, mask fractured but eyes burning with hunger and rage.
My vision blurred. My strength was fading.
Come on, move, I begged my body. Not here, not like this.
Then, a sudden shadow crossed between us. A blur of motion, faster than sound, faster than light and the Hollow froze mid-lunge, its head separating cleanly from its body in one impossibly precise strike.
The echo of steel and static lingered as the monstrous form began to dissolve into spirit particles.
And standing where it once towered — calm, sharp-eyed, and impossibly composed, was my rescuer.
The Hollow's head hit the ground with a dull crack before its mask splintered into nothingness, dissolving into spirit particles that shimmered faintly in the electric haze.
I blinked through the smoke and ozone, every muscle twitching from the leftover current. Standing there, almost lazily brushing dust off his striped hat, was a man in a green haori and geta sandals. A cane in one hand, fan in the other — like he'd just wandered in from some beach-side vacation instead of decapitating a monster.
He tilted his head at me, eyes half-hidden under the brim of his hat, but the faint smirk tugging at his mouth gave him away.
"Well now," he said cheerfully, voice smooth but with an edge that felt… old. "That was quite the light show, wasn't it? You nearly turned this whole block into a fireworks display."
I coughed, pushing myself upright, every nerve in my body still buzzing. "Yeah, I'm uh… working on the whole not electrocuting myself to death thing."
He chuckled softly, tapping his cane against his shoulder. "Mmh, admirable. Though for a human to release that kind of spiritual energy without training… well, that's no small feat."
Something about the way he said human made my stomach twist. His tone was polite, curious even, but there was something behind it. Familiarity. Like he already knew the answer and was waiting to see if I'd lie.
"Yeah, guess I've had a weird couple of days," I said carefully. "You, uh… you do this often? Save idiots from getting eaten by monsters?"
The man smiled wider, but his eyes didn't quite match it. "Only when the idiot in question is doing something interesting."
The silence between us stretched — not awkward, exactly, but charged. Like static before a storm.
"Who are you?" I asked finally.
"Just a humble candy shop owner," he said, fanning himself lazily. "You might say I have an interest in… rare phenomena. And you, my friend, are very rare indeed."
The words sent a chill through me. He turned away before I could respond, tapping his cane once against the street.
"Keep that lightning under control," he said over his shoulder, voice light but precise. "It would be a shame if the wrong people noticed it before you learned how to use it."
I squinted after him, heart hammering. "Wait—! You didn't even tell me your name!"
He paused mid-step, glancing back just enough for the brim of his hat to lift slightly for me to catch a flash of something knowing in his eyes.
"Names are for introductions," he said with a grin. "And I think we've met before, haven't we?"
Before I could even form a response, he vanished in one smooth, soundless step, gone into the night.
The street fell quiet again, only the hum of power lines and the faint smell of ozone lingering as I stared at the spot where he'd stood.
My hands were still shaking when I muttered, "What the hell is going on anymore…"
By the time the adrenaline bled out of my system, my body felt like it had been thrown through a woodchipper.
Every muscle screamed, every breath tugged at the bruises blooming across my ribs. The quiet hum of the streetlights felt deafening now that the Hollow's howls were gone.
I bent down to pick up the grocery bag I'd dropped earlier, surprised it had survived the chaos. The soda was dented, chips crushed, but somehow the candy bar still looked intact. Small victories.
"Guess you're getting your sweets after all," I muttered to no one, my voice rough from panting and static.
The walk home felt longer than it should've — the night air too still, my mind replaying flashes of the fight. The hollow's mask splitting. That man's smile under his striped hat. We've met before, haven't we?
By the time I reached the house, the porch light was still on, soft and yellow, spilling across the steps like nothing had changed. I eased open the door, trying not to wake anyone. Kerstie's gentle snoring echoed faintly down the hall.
I placed the candy bar quietly on her nightstand, next to the lavender-scented lotion and her half-finished novel. For a second, I watched her sleeping, the way her brow stayed tense even in rest. I wanted to feel something. Guilt. Love. Anything.
Instead, I just felt… tired.
My ribs protested as I sank into the couch, a low groan escaping before I could stop it. I cracked open a can of hard lemonade from the fridge and took a long, slow sip. The fizz burned against my throat, but it was better than silence.
Outside, the street was still damp from an earlier rain, and for a brief moment, a flicker of blue light shimmered across the window reflection. Lightning, faint and controlled, or maybe just my nerves playing tricks again.
I leaned back, one hand pressed against my ribs, the other holding the can like it was the only thing tethering me to reality.
"I'm really losing it," I whispered, eyes heavy. "Rukia… that man… spiritual bullshit…"
The last thing I remember before sleep finally dragged me under was the faint buzz of electricity still dancing beneath my skin, quiet, alive, waiting.