The abandoned alley entrance on Shinjuku's west side looked like a throat chewed to pieces, its broken walls jutting diagonally into the dim yellow daylight.
Wind rolled loose pebbles across the road. Four figures entered the alley one after another, their footsteps stopping in unison.
Hajime Kashimo stood at the front, blue-violet arcs crackling around him, already on the verge of erupting.
Suguru Geto stood in the middle of the group, the hem of his five-striped kesa brushing the rubble at his feet.
He stared at the figure before the broken wall at the alley's end and suddenly felt a visceral revulsion, as though they had been mortal enemies in a previous life. He had never experienced such an inexplicable premonition before.
Suguru Geto suppressed his killing intent and spoke as evenly as he could:
"I don't know why, but I wanted to kill you the moment I saw you."
"The feeling is mutual."
Kenjaku chuckled softly, the stitches across his forehead particularly conspicuous in the dim light.
He balanced a Cursed Spirit on his fingertip, idly spinning it as though listening to a report rather than a declaration of war:
"I've always felt you would make a fine vessel. You would be very useful."
Half a step beside Suguru Geto, Yuta Okkotsu rested his right hand on his katana's hilt.
Rika's enormous claw rested lightly on Okkotsu's shoulder. She leaned forward, her fangs emerging from the shadows as she let out a low growl.
The boy spoke quietly, but with unquestionable certainty:
"We need to finish this quickly, then go support our teachers."
Before his words had faded, Rika's growl suddenly rose, her savage Cursed Energy shaking dust from the walls.
"Big words."
Kenjaku replied mildly, his gaze sweeping over the Cursed Spirit behind the boy, seemingly interested.
Yuki