Chapter 3: Unveiling the Storm

The morning sunlight streamed through the streets of Tokyo, but for Kaito Tsukimori, it might as well have been twilight. The brightness of the world around him seemed muted, shrouded in the lingering haze of yesterday's events. The mysterious girl's cryptic words—*"The storm... it has come"—*played on a loop in his mind, pulling at his every thought.

As he walked to school, his sneakers scuffed against the pavement, the bustling energy of the city felt distant. The chatter of pedestrians, the hum of passing cars—all of it seemed to drift further away with each step. Kaito's hands stayed deep in his pockets, fingers clenching tightly as if to steady himself against the unseen tide pulling him toward something unknown.

His mind wouldn't rest. Who was the girl with the violet eyes? Why had she seemed so certain he was part of some impending chaos? And worse, what was awakening within him that even he couldn't explain?

By the time he reached the school gates, the ordinary rhythms of the day—the ringing bell, the murmur of students—felt like a surreal backdrop to the storm brewing inside him.

The classroom offered little relief. Kaito slid into his seat, nodding wordlessly at the few classmates who acknowledged him. From her desk by the window, Emi Kobayashi shot him a concerned glance, her lips pressing into a thin line. When she caught his eye, she mouthed a silent, "You okay?"

Kaito gave a slight nod, avoiding her gaze. He didn't trust himself to explain anything—not when he barely understood it himself.

The lesson began, but Kaito's focus was elsewhere. The room felt stifling, the walls seeming to close in as a faint, familiar sensation prickled at the edge of his awareness. It was subtle at first—a feeling of being watched, of something unseen lurking just out of sight. He tried to shake it off, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, but the sensation only grew stronger.

When he glanced toward the door, his heart stopped.

A dark figure stood there, watching through the small glass window. Its form was indistinct, shrouded in shadow, but its presence sent a chill racing down his spine. The air around him seemed to grow heavy, pressing on his chest like an invisible weight.

Kaito blinked, and the figure was gone.

After school, Kaito tried to convince himself it was nothing—just his imagination playing tricks on him. But as he walked home, the streets seemed quieter than usual, the sounds of the city muffled as if by an unseen force.

Then, near a row of vending machines, a figure stepped out of the alleyway ahead of him.

Kaito froze.

The man—if it could be called that—was tall, his broad shoulders wrapped in a long black coat that swayed slightly as he moved. A hood concealed most of his face, but from beneath the shadows, Kaito could feel cold, piercing eyes boring into him.

The air grew colder, the hairs on Kaito's neck standing on end. The world around him seemed to fall away, leaving only the figure and the suffocating energy that surrounded it.

"Who are you?" Kaito demanded, his voice more steady than he felt.

The figure didn't answer at first. It tilted its head slightly, as if studying him. Then, slowly, it raised a gloved hand, pointing directly at Kaito.

"You are not ready," the figure said, its voice deep and resonant, each word cutting through the silence like a blade. "But your awakening is inevitable."

The ground beneath Kaito trembled. He stumbled back, heart pounding in his chest.

"What do you want?" he shouted, his voice cracking.

The figure stepped forward, its movements unnaturally smooth and quick. Before Kaito could react, an invisible force slammed into him, throwing him against the cold concrete wall of a nearby building.

Pain exploded in his back, and the breath was knocked from his lungs. Dazed, he struggled to stand, but his limbs felt heavy, his body betraying him.

"You will be tested," the figure said, now looming over him. Its voice was low and cold, reverberating in the depths of Kaito's mind. "The storm will consume you if you are not prepared. Face it… or be torn apart."

Kaito gritted his teeth, trying to summon some hidden strength, but his body wouldn't respond. A strange force pulsed inside him, like something locked deep within, straining to break free but held back by invisible chains.

The figure reached toward him, its gloved hand outstretched, when suddenly the alley was bathed in light.

A brilliant silver glow filled the space, forcing the figure to recoil. Its hiss of frustration was almost inhuman as it retreated into the shadows.

Kaito blinked against the light, his vision clearing just enough to make out the figure standing at the entrance of the alley. Ayame Hoshizaki.

Her silver hair shimmered in the glow, and her lavender eyes burned with an ethereal intensity. She stepped forward with a calm confidence, her presence filling the space with an undeniable authority.

"This is not your fight, Haruto," she said, her voice steady and commanding. "You will not claim him. Not yet."

The figure—Haruto—growled low in his throat, his hooded head turning toward Ayame. For a moment, the tension in the air was suffocating, the clash of energies palpable. But then, with a flick of his coat, Haruto disappeared into the shadows, leaving behind only silence.

Kaito slumped to the ground, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Every part of him ached, his body still trembling from the encounter.

Ayame approached him, kneeling beside him. Her expression, though composed, softened with concern.

"Are you hurt?" she asked.

Kaito shook his head weakly, though he wasn't sure if it was true. "Who… who was that?" he managed to ask, his voice barely above a whisper.

Ayame's eyes lingered on him for a moment before she answered.

"Haruto," she said. "One of many who seek to claim you before you are ready. You've drawn attention, Kaito. The storm is here, and you are at its center."

Kaito swallowed hard, his throat dry. "Why me? What's happening to me?"

Ayame stood, her gaze distant. "The answers will come in time," she said. "But know this: you are not alone in this fight. The storm does not choose its victims lightly. And those who face it…" She paused, her expression unreadable. "...must stand together, or fall alone."

Kaito looked up at her, the weight of her words sinking in. The storm wasn't just coming—it was already here. And he had no choice but to face it.