The city skyline glimmered with the glow of neon lights, each building a towering monument to humanity's defiance against the night. Streetlights painted the rain-slicked pavement in streaks of white and gold, and the distant hum of late-night traffic mixed with the murmur of voices spilling from open shopfronts. The air, thick with the faint smell of gasoline and rain-soaked concrete, clung to Mitsuki Shirogane like an unseen weight.

The world bustled on, unaware of the chaos lurking just beneath its surface.

Mitsuki Shirogane walked through the familiar streets, his black school bag slung over one shoulder, his shoes clicking softly against the pavement. He was tall for his age, with lean shoulders that carried an unspoken burden. His black hair fell messily over his forehead, hiding his sharp, sapphire-blue eyes that reflected both a quiet determination and a melancholy that seemed beyond his sixteen years. His pale skin caught the faint glow of the streetlights, and his movements, though purposeful, carried an air of exhaustion. Tonight, his uniform—a crisp, black outfit adorned with the silver crest of Shirogane Academy—felt heavier than usual.

Normally, the mundane comfort of the city would calm his restless mind—the distant clink of ramen bowls in a nearby stall, the laughter of students lingering after club activities—but tonight felt different. Wrong. A strange chill bit at the edges of his senses, like icy needles pricking his skin. The city felt unfamiliar, and as much as Mitsuki tried to shake the feeling, it crept under his skin, gnawing at him, whispering of things he couldn't quite grasp.

As he turned onto the quiet street that led to his family's estate, the atmosphere shifted. The air grew denser, and an uncanny stillness settled over the world, as though even the night itself was holding its breath.

The mansion—a sleek, modern structure of glass and stone—loomed ahead, its edges sharp and unnatural against the soft glow of the moon. The trees lining the property swayed, their branches whispering secrets to the wind. But something was off.

The lights were off.

Mitsuki slowed his steps, his heartbeat quickening in his chest. The faint creak of the wrought-iron gate echoed too loudly as he pushed it open, the sound grinding against his nerves. His hand trembled as he reached into his pocket for the keys, the cold metal clinking against his palm.

Why does it feel like I'm stepping into a grave?

A surge of dread twisted in his stomach, but he couldn't bring himself to turn back. He had to know. His father's words echoed in his mind, sharp and clear: You must always protect this family, Mitsuki.

He turned the lock and stepped inside.

The air hit him first—thick, hot, suffocating. The acrid stench of smoke clung to the walls and choked his lungs. He coughed, stumbling forward, his eyes widening as the scene before him came into focus.

Flames.

Bright orange tendrils licked the shattered edges of the once grand doorway, consuming everything in their path. Smoke billowed upward, curling like sinister fingers toward the starless sky. The walls groaned in agony as they warped under the heat. Somewhere in the distance, wood splintered and glass shattered, the sounds muffled by the roaring inferno.

"Mom! Dad!" Mitsuki's voice cracked as he screamed into the chaos. Panic burned in his chest, his legs carrying him forward despite the smoke clawing at his throat.

The hall—once pristine, with polished marble floors and grand portraits of his ancestors—was unrecognizable. Ash fell like black snowflakes, settling on the remnants of an elegant chandelier that now lay in jagged pieces. His breath caught as his eyes swept over the damage, his mind struggling to comprehend the horror before him. The air was so thick with smoke that it stung his eyes, but he couldn't stop. He had to find them. He had to—

Then he saw him.

A body.

The blackened remains of his father sprawled across the living room floor, his form burned beyond recognition—but Mitsuki knew. The shape of his shoulders, the glint of the family's shattered sword lying nearby—it could only be him.

Mitsuki collapsed to his knees, his voice caught in his throat. His hands reached out, trembling, as if touching his father might undo the horrors of this night. He wanted to scream, to shout at the world for its cruelty. But all that came was a sob—raw and desperate.

"No… NO!" The word tore from him like a blade to the chest. Tears streaked down his soot-covered cheeks, his body heaving with sobs.

"Dad… get up…" His voice broke into a whisper. "Please… get up…"

A faint sound—a weak cough—made him snap his head up.

"Mom?"

He scrambled to his feet, forcing himself through the smoke and flames until he found her. She was slumped against the wall in what remained of their dining room. Her black hair—so much like his—was singed and matted with blood. Her breathing was faint, each exhale weaker than the last. Her dark eyes fluttered open, locking onto him.

"Mitsuki…" she whispered, her voice trembling.

"Mom, stay with me!" He dropped to his knees beside her, pressing his hands to the bleeding gash on her side. Warmth spread across his palms, his mind racing for something—anything—that could save her.

Her hand lifted weakly, brushing against his cheek. Her touch was soft, even now. Her fingers traced the contours of his face, and for a moment, Mitsuki could almost pretend that everything was fine—that nothing had changed.

"You… must… survive," she murmured, her voice no louder than a breath.

"No, Mom… don't talk like that!" Tears blurred his vision. "I can save you… just hold on!"

Her faint smile was both comforting and cruel. Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears as she exhaled one final breath. Her hand slipped from his face. Her eyes stilled.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop.

"No… Mom, please…" Mitsuki's voice broke into a whisper. His hands shook as he began to drag her—desperately trying to pull her from the wreckage. But the weight of her lifeless body was too much. It felt like dragging a mountain.

Then, the shadow appeared.

A monstrous claw swung toward him. Mitsuki froze, eyes wide with terror, but at the last moment, she moved. His mother pushed him backward with her last ounce of strength.

"Mom!" he screamed as the claw descended on her. The demon's gaping maw devoured her before his eyes.

Mitsuki fell hard, the air knocked from his lungs. He scrambled back, choking on his own sobs as the monstrous figure turned its glowing eyes toward him. The creature loomed larger than before, its black wings casting a suffocating shadow across the remains of the house. The darkness in its eyes burned with malice, and it stepped forward, its heavy footsteps reverberating in the charred ruins.

Mitsuki tried to run, but his legs wouldn't obey. He was frozen, paralyzed by fear and grief. His thoughts scrambled, but nothing made sense. His body trembled as the demon raised its claw again, ready to strike—

And then it froze.

A sound, like the shattering of glass, echoed through the air. The demon trembled violently before it collapsed to its knees. A pale hand rested lightly against its chest.

The figure appeared out of the smoke, standing before Mitsuki. He looked human—but barely. His black hair hung messily around his face, and his silver eyes pierced through the haze with a cold, unnatural light. Despite his gaunt appearance, there was an unshakable presence about him—a force that seemed to bend the very air to his will.

The demon shuddered one last time before it crumbled into dust, its form disintegrating into nothingness.

The man stood tall, his tired gaze settling on Mitsuki. His presence was overpowering, like a shadow that cast its reach over everything.

"What's your name?" he asked, his voice low and calm, cutting through the suffocating silence of the room.

Mitsuki stared up at him, his chest still heaving. Tears streaked down his face as his voice cracked.

"Mitsuki Shirogane."

The man's silver eyes softened, though his expression remained unreadable. He nodded slowly, as if the name meant something, though Mitsuki couldn't fathom what.

"Mitsuki," he murmured, his voice distant, as if lost in thought.

Mitsuki's fists clenched, his voice trembling as he whispered into the still air.

"They took everything… from me."

Yami didn't answer. He simply stood there, a shadow in the ruins, as the flames died to embers around them. The house, once a symbol of his family's legacy, now lay in ruins, consumed by the flames of destruction. But in that stillness, a new chapter was beginning, though Mitsuki had no idea just how much his life was about to change.