Raito stepped out of the shower, steam curling around his body as he reached for a towel. His movements were precise, almost mechanical—refined through years of discipline. He dried off, dressed in a crisp black suit, adjusted his belt, and buttoned his cuffs with clockwork efficiency.
You're surprisingly well-kept for a former mercenary, Kurai mused, her voice sliding into his thoughts like silk over steel. Most men in your line of work wouldn't care so much about routines—or appearances.
"I don't waste time." Raito glanced at his reflection. The crimson glint in his eyes had dulled… but not disappeared.
Efficient. Meticulous. I like that about you, Kurai purred. So, what's the occasion? Got a date?
"I have work."
Work? she scoffed. You mean that bland civilian act you've been putting on? What was it again... insurance salesman?
He grabbed his watch and secured it with a click. "It lets me move among the public without raising suspicion."
Please. You could make ten times that doing what you're actually good at. Why play house in a world built for sheep?
He ignored her, heading into the kitchen. Breakfast was simple—toast and black coffee. No excess. No indulgence.
This is depressing, Kurai sighed. No blood, no screams. Just toast. I'm already bored of this pact.
Raito took a sip of coffee. "I didn't agree to it for your amusement."
Then why did you?
He didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed his keys, slung his jacket over one shoulder, and checked the time—7:15 AM. Right on schedule.
As he stepped out the door, the morning air met him, crisp and damp with the scent of last night's rain. Kurai's voice curled against his thoughts like smoke.
You can't ignore me forever, Raito. We're bound now. You and I? We're a team.
"Be quiet," he said simply, locking the door behind him.
He walked at a steady pace, suitcase in hand. He didn't need to walk to work—but he wanted to. It helped him think. Or it used to.
Still feeling off, huh? Kurai teased, amusement thick in her voice.
His brow twitched. Something was off. His steps were too light. His senses too sharp. Like his body had been rewired overnight—but with something else nestled inside. Something waiting.
"You did something to me," he muttered under his breath.
Not to you. With you. Consider it an upgrade. Your body's just adjusting to the new arrangement.
He didn't respond. Every sound around him—footsteps, traffic, the distant flutter of a bird's wings—was crystal clear. Even the heartbeat of a stray cat, tucked beneath a bench, pulsed faintly in his ears.
Then it happened.
A sudden screech of tires tore through the morning calm. Raito's head whipped toward the sound—a black sedan hurtling down the street, swerving between lanes, engine howling like a beast. Pedestrians scattered.
The car was out of control.
And it was coming straight at him.
His reflexes kicked in—but his body didn't. His limbs resisted, heavy and slow. The car surged forward like a predator lunging for the kill.
Oh dear, Kurai whispered, unbothered. Looks like you're about to find out what it really means to be my host.
The impact came like a hammer blow.
Metal slammed into flesh. The world spun. Sky. Pavement. Screams. And then—
Silence.
Raito kept still.
Not unconscious—just calculating.
There was no pain. No broken bones. No torn muscles. Only a dull throb where the car had hit. Slowly, he opened his eyes.
Gasps rippled through the gathering crowd.
"Is he... getting up?"
"No way. He should be dead."
He glanced down. Torn suit. No blood. His skin? Unscathed.
He could feel it now—Kurai's presence threaded beneath his own, coiled in the marrow of his bones like a second skin.
Told you, she whispered, smug.
Raito exhaled. "You've got to be kidding me."
The impact should have shattered him, but instead, he was unscathed as he went back on the ground to buy time and to think. The stolen car had skidded to a stop nearby. The door slammed open.
"Shit! Did we kill him?" a panicked voice shouted.
"Why the hell did you hit him?!" another snapped.
"I didn't mean to! He came out of nowhere!"
Footsteps pounded closer. A thief crouched beside him, breath reeking of smoke and fear.
"I-I think he's out cold."
"Leave him. Cops will be here any second."
Another curse. Then footsteps retreating. Doors slammed. The engine roared.
And they were gone.
Raito's eyes opened fully.
That was fun to watch, Kurai mused. You could've dodged.
"I wasn't expecting my body to lag behind my instincts," he muttered, sitting up. He flexed his arms, rolled his shoulders. Not a scratch.
You'll adjust. You're not human anymore. Not really.
"You should've warned me before I got hit by a car," he growled.
Her laugh slid through his mind, soft and amused.
Sirens wailed in the distance. He didn't have time for questions or explanations.
He slipped into an alleyway, vanishing into the shadows.
Behind him, confused onlookers stared, whispering stories that no one would believe.
The man who should've died... was simply gone.
As Raito moved swiftly through the backstreets, weaving through narrow alleyways and side roads to avoid drawing attention. His clothes, torn in places and streaked with dirt from the impact, were far from the pristine image he typically projected. That wouldn't do.
You're really going to go all the way back home for a little dirt? Kurai's voice purred through his mind, amused. Humans and their obsession with appearances.
"I have standards," Raito muttered, keeping his pace steady but controlled. "People will ask questions if I show up like this." The last thing he needed was to draw suspicion by sprinting through the streets.
Sure, sure. Kurai's amusement laced her words. But you do realize you're going to be late, right?
Raito glanced at his watch—7:45 AM. His usual arrival time was 7:30 on the dot. He clicked his tongue in irritation.
"This is your fault."
Oh? Kurai feigned innocence. I don't remember being the one who was walking carelessly.
Raito didn't respond. He reached his villa, unlocked the door, and stepped inside. Without hesitation, he stripped off his damaged clothes and headed straight for his wardrobe. Another black suit. White dress shirt. This time, a deep gray tie.
As he dressed, he noticed subtle changes—his movements were smoother, more efficient, his body adjusting to its new rhythm. Despite the delay, it felt like just another part of his routine.
By 7:55, he was out the door again, heading to work.
The walk was short, but today it felt lighter. The city was already alive with the morning rush—workers and students filling the streets. Raito moved through the crowd effortlessly, slipping past groups and pushing through the morning chaos.
When he arrived at the office building, the receptionist looked up in surprise.
"Mr. Raito… You're late?"
Raito offered a short, polite nod, not breaking his stride as he moved toward the elevator.
Ohh, I see. Kurai's voice teased. You're one of those 'perfect attendance' types, huh? Bet they're all freaking out, wondering if the world's ending.
Raito stepped into the elevator, the doors sliding shut with a soft chime. He sighed.
"You're getting too comfortable talking," he muttered under his breath.
And you're getting too good at ignoring me, she replied, unbothered.
The elevator reached his floor, and as soon as the doors opened, Raito could feel it—the subtle shift in the air. His colleagues were watching him, whispering in hushed tones. His lateness had already turned heads. This was not like him.
As he walked to his desk, a few of his coworkers gathered around him.
"Raito? You're… late?" Jin, a tall man with a smirk, raised an eyebrow. "That's a first."
"Is everything okay?" another colleague, a woman named Aki, asked, concern in her voice.
Raito flashed them a warm, friendly smile—one that instantly put people at ease. "Nothing serious. Just overslept," he said with a light chuckle, scratching the back of his head. "Guess all those late nights finally caught up to me."
His coworkers exchanged surprised glances, then let out amused laughs.
"Wow, you, Raito Yakamura, sleeping in?" Jin joked. "Never thought I'd see the day."
"Just because I'm usually on time doesn't mean I'm any different from you all," Raito said, waving a hand dismissively. His tone remained casual, his smile still in place. "But it won't happen again."
The tension in the room dissolved as they nodded in satisfaction and returned to their desks. The situation was defused.
That was smooth, Kurai mused, her voice carrying a note of approval. You're a decent liar, I'll give you that.
Raito's smile faded the moment he turned to his computer, his expression once again a mask of unreadable calm. He hadn't lied, not really—he'd simply told them what they wanted to hear. And for now, that was enough.
He settled into his chair, fingers already flying over the keys as he buried himself in his work. This morning's chaos? Just another blip in the routine. No one needed to know it was anything more than that.
And with that, he resumed his day, pretending that everything was just as it should be.