Chapter 3: Shadows in Kyoto

Damien leaned back in his seat, staring out the window as the plane descended into Kyoto. The ancient city stretched out beneath him, a sprawling mixture of modern skyscrapers and centuries-old temples. He hadn't expected the university to offer him a scholarship based on his kickboxing skills, but here he was—about to tour the campus and meet with the athletic department. This could be his way out, his chance to escape the suffocating grip of the underground fighting ring.

But nothing came without a catch.

He glanced at the man sitting next to him. Jackson Pike, a former fighter turned enforcer, had been assigned to him by Coach Brookes. "For your own good," the coach had said, though Damien knew better. Jackson wasn't here to help him. He was here to make sure Damien didn't do anything stupid—like trying to run away.

Jackson was hard to miss, a hulking presence with an emotionless face and eyes that never seemed to blink. Damien had seen him at the underground fights, always lingering in the background, watching. His fists were scarred from years of fighting, and the rumors about what he had done to those who crossed the bosses were enough to keep even the most rebellious fighters in line.

Coach Brookes hadn't sugarcoated it when he pulled Damien aside before the trip. "You've got potential, Damien," he had said, lighting a cigar as he leaned back in his chair. "But don't forget who owns you. You're valuable to us. And if you get any bright ideas while you're in Kyoto, Jackson's there to remind you of your place."

Damien had barely reacted, his jaw clenched as he nodded. He knew better than to argue. The underground ring didn't just let people go. It had its hooks in him, and trying to run meant certain death. He had to play it smart, bide his time. The university scholarship was a glimmer of hope, but with Jackson shadowing him, it felt more like a leash.

As the plane landed, Jackson gave him a brief nod. "Don't worry, kid. Just follow the plan. Don't get any ideas, and we won't have any problems."

Damien nodded, suppressing the urge to snap back. He had grown used to the threats, the way they loomed over every decision he made. He grabbed his bag, and the two of them headed toward the terminal.

---

Kyoto was beautiful, no denying that. The streets were a blend of the old and the new, with traditional wooden buildings standing in the shadow of glass towers. Damien tried to focus on the present, to appreciate the city for what it was—a place that could represent a fresh start. But Jackson's constant presence was a reminder that he wasn't free, not yet.

They arrived at the university in the afternoon, where a group of athletic scouts met them, all smiles and handshakes. Damien went through the motions, giving polite responses, answering questions about his training regimen, and pretending not to notice Jackson standing a few feet away, watching everything. The tour was uneventful, and by the time it was over, Damien's mind was already drifting to what he would do next.

That's when he felt it—a presence. A faint pull, something at the edge of his senses. It was strange, like a whisper in the back of his mind. He dismissed it at first, chalking it up to exhaustion. But as the evening wore on, the feeling grew stronger. It was subtle, like a soft hum beneath the noise of the city, drawing him toward it.

They were walking through the quiet streets of Gion, Kyoto's famous geisha district, when the pull became undeniable. Damien's eyes scanned the crowd, searching for the source of the unease creeping up his spine. The narrow alleys and lantern-lit pathways seemed to warp in his vision, the shadows growing darker and more alive. He could feel something lurking in the air—something not human.

Then he saw her.

A woman stood just ahead, her long, dark hair falling in waves over her shoulders. Her kimono was crimson and black, elegant but otherworldly, as if it belonged to a time long past. Her eyes locked onto Damien's, and for a moment, he felt an unnatural pull, like gravity itself had shifted toward her.

"Hey," Jackson's voice snapped Damien out of the trance. "Keep moving."

But Damien's legs felt heavy, his body resisting the command. The woman's gaze didn't waver, and her lips curved into a small, knowing smile. Without understanding why, Damien felt himself step toward her, drawn by something deep inside. His heart raced as her presence seemed to seep into his mind, her voice, though she hadn't spoken a word, was suddenly everywhere.

Come with me…

The words weren't spoken, but they echoed in his head, tugging at the darkest parts of him. The anger, the pain, the violence—it all stirred under the surface, growing more intense with every step he took toward her.

Jackson grabbed his arm, yanking him back. "Damien! What the hell are you doing?"

The pull intensified, and Damien could feel something inside him shift, something primal, dangerous. His muscles tightened, and his vision blurred. The woman—no, the creature—smiled wider now, her eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger.

She was a yokai. A creature of darkness that fed on the desires of others. And she had felt the darkness in Damien—the violence that clung to him, the shadow that had followed him since the orphanage. She had acted on instinct, drawn to him like a moth to flame, trying to bring him into her world.

Damien's pulse pounded in his ears as something deep within him awoke in response. A surge of energy—raw, violent, and cold—rippled through his body, and before he could stop it, it lashed out.

The air around him darkened, and a force exploded from Damien, knocking Jackson back and sending the yokai staggering. Her eyes widened in shock as the energy hit her, not something she had expected from a mere human. For a moment, the power coursing through Damien's veins was uncontrollable, wild, but as quickly as it had come, it receded, leaving him gasping for breath.

The yokai hissed, retreating into the shadows, her form melting away as if she had never been there. But her presence lingered, the taste of her influence still in the air. Damien could feel the remnants of her touch, the way she had stirred something deep inside him, something he didn't understand.

Jackson, recovering from the shock, rushed toward Damien. "What the hell just happened?" His voice was sharp, his eyes wide with suspicion.

Damien shook his head, his heart still racing. "I don't… I don't know." But that was a lie. He knew something had changed. That surge of power—it wasn't natural. It wasn't human. And it had come from him.

Jackson's eyes narrowed, but he didn't push. "We're going back to the hotel. Now."

Damien didn't argue. His mind was still reeling from what had just happened. As they walked through the now-quiet streets, Damien couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. The power that had awakened inside him wasn't going away. It had always been there, lurking beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to reveal itself. And now that it had, Damien couldn't help but wonder what else lay hidden in the shadows of his past—and what other creatures might be drawn to him because of it.