The rain came without warning.
Rin Kaizuka stood on the cracked pavement, one sneaker half-submerged in a shallow puddle, watching the neon lights of the city smear and ripple across the water's surface. His hood was up, but the drizzle had already soaked the ends of his dark hair. Beside him, a frail girl clung to his sleeve—his little sister, Yui. Her breath rattled slightly, the sound faint against the distant thunder.
"Rin," she whispered, her voice smaller than the patter of the rain. "You didn't have to walk me. I'm fine."
He glanced at her. Pale skin. Thin wrists. A forced smile that didn't reach her tired eyes.
"You're not fine," Rin muttered, tugging the sleeve tighter around her. "You shouldn't even be outside. Doctor said rest."
Yui gave a quiet laugh, like she was afraid it would break her chest apart. "And you shouldn't be worrying so much. I don't want my big brother turning into an old man before he's even twenty."
Seventeen. He was seventeen. But Rin didn't argue. He just tightened his grip on the strap of her bag and kept walking.
The city around them hummed with restless energy. Billboards flickered, selling products they'd never afford. Cars splashed through intersections, headlights glaring in the wet air. People moved past, umbrellas up, faces down, each wrapped in their own little world.
Rin hated it. The world kept spinning, no matter who fell behind. No matter if his sister coughed blood into her pillow at night, no matter if he skipped meals to pay for her medication. The world didn't care.
But he did.
That was why he was here, trudging through the rain after a double shift at the convenience store, escorting Yui back from her part-time tutoring session. She shouldn't have been working at all. But the truth was cruel—medication cost money, and their parents were long gone.
Rin Kaizuka had only one rule left in life: Protect Yui. No matter what.
---
They reached the intersection at Shibuya East, where the glass towers rose like watchful giants. The pedestrian light flicked red, but the crowd was already surging forward.
Rin hesitated. His gaze swept the street instinctively—an old habit, born of constant caution. The storm had thickened, rain hissing against asphalt. Through the blur of water, he caught the faint glint of something wrong.
A truck.
It came too fast, tires shrieking against the flooded road, skidding sideways into the crosswalk. Its headlights carved harsh white arcs across the panicked crowd. People screamed, scattering like startled birds. Umbrellas dropped, clattering underfoot.
Rin didn't think.
He grabbed Yui, shoving her back toward the sidewalk. His heart hammered. The truck roared closer, too fast, too close.
"Rin!" Yui cried, reaching for him.
He shoved harder, the world narrowing to the sound of his pulse and the blinding headlights.
In that instant, Rin knew. He couldn't move in time.
But she could.
He turned his head, caught Yui's terrified eyes, and forced a crooked smile. "Run."
The impact hit like fire.
---
For a moment, there was nothing but weightlessness.
Rin's body lifted, bones shattering in silence, as if the rain had swallowed every sound. He floated through the blur of city lights, neon smeared across his vision like wet paint. Pain never fully registered—it was too big, too fast. His mind clung to one thing: Yui's face, pale and screaming his name.
The ground rose up. Darkness folded over him.
And then—quiet.
---
When Rin opened his eyes, the rain was gone.
He lay on something cold and metallic, a floor that pulsed faintly with lines of light, like circuits running under glass. The air smelled sharp, like ozone, and every breath carried a static buzz. His limbs trembled as he pushed himself up. No blood. No pain. His clothes were dry, though the memory of rain still clung to his skin.
"Yui…" His voice cracked, the word scattering into the empty space.
There was no Yui.
Instead, endless skyscrapers loomed around him, taller than any he'd ever seen. Their walls weren't concrete but shifting screens of neon, alive with symbols he didn't recognize. Advertisements bled into one another, faces of strangers grinning and vanishing, voices whispering offers he couldn't understand.
The sky was wrong.
Not black, not gray—a rolling ocean of color, fractured like broken glass, shifting between violet and cyan. Lightning cracked silently across it, tearing open gaps that revealed nothing but more neon beneath.
"Where… am I?"
His voice was swallowed by the city.
Then the sound came.
Footsteps.
Rin spun, instincts prickling. At the far end of the alley, shapes emerged—figures draped in patchwork coats, eyes glowing faintly. They moved with a predator's ease, and in their hands shimmered weapons made of light and shadow.
One of them grinned. His teeth looked sharp in the glow.
"Fresh spawn," the man hissed.
Rin stumbled back, heart lurching. None of this was real. It couldn't be. He was dead. He knew it. He felt it in the hollow space where his body should ache.
Yet the city pulsed around him, alive and merciless.
The hunters advanced.
---
"Hey!"
The voice rang sharp, cutting through the static.
Another figure darted into view, blocking the gang's path. Broad-shouldered, chain slung across his arm like a serpent of steel. His eyes burned with a steady fire.
"Back off," the newcomer growled. "He's mine."
The gang leader snarled, but the others hesitated.
Rin staggered, confusion and fear choking him. His vision blurred. He caught only fragments—the flash of chains, the crack of impact, the hiss of neon fire.
And then, another voice. Softer.
"Don't be afraid."
He turned. A girl stood at his side, her hair luminous, eyes gentle as they studied him. Her hand brushed his shoulder. Warmth spread through him, fragile but real.
"My name's Miyu," she said. "You're safe now. For the moment."
The world tilted.
Rin's knees buckled. His last thought, before darkness swallowed him again, was of Yui's hand slipping from his own.