First Encounter

Rain slicked the streets of Neo-Kyoto, turning the city's neon lights into a kaleidoscope of reds, blues, and greens that bled across the wet pavement. High-rise buildings towered into the clouded night, their sharp silhouettes cutting through the glow of billboards hawking everything from augmented mods to the latest reality-shift games. In the distance, the deep thrum of bass-heavy music pulsed from a nightclub, blending with the low murmur of street life below. Hiroki pulled his hood up against the rain, shoving his hands deep into his pockets as he trudged through the crowded streets. He wasn't thinking about his destination—just moving forward, drifting with the late-night crowd as always.His gaze darted around, snatching fleeting glimpses of those he passed: couples huddled beneath umbrellas, groups of friends laughing at some half-heard joke, a kid absorbed in a holo-game flickering above his wrist. A familiar pang twisted in Hiroki's chest, that persistent feeling of... disconnect. Like he was a glitch in the system, just slightly out of sync with the world around him.Today was another bad day. He didn't know why, but somehow, he always managed to mess things up—or maybe things had just been so bad for so long that misfortune seemed to have a way of finding him, even when he wasn't inviting it. The morning started with that familiar knot of anxiety, the nagging certainty that something would go wrong. His mind raced with a relentless litany of worries: maybe it was his homework, his uniform, his smell, his hair, or the fear that he might sweat too much. These thoughts swirled in his head, so that by the time he finally reached for breakfast, he was already exhausted.Yes, the fear and fatigue, he reflected as he chewed on his peanut butter and jelly sandwich that morning—the ever-present shadows that had stalked him since he turned nine. Only six years, yet they felt like an eternity. Nobody made breakfast for him, of course; there was no one around to do it. The emptiness of his home gnawed at him, another pang of anxiety—a suffocating weight he desperately wished to escape. But where could he run when he didn't even have a home to flee to, something even the unluckiest of his classmates still had? What did he have, really? That question lingered in his mind as he ate, gnawing at him more than the bread ever could.He was placed in a seemingly random group: him, and two others—Kelechi, a tall boy in his classroom with a perpetually serious expression, and Aiko, a soft-spoken girl with neatly braided hair. On a regular day, neither of them talked to him. But unlike the more popular kids, they didn't carry that subtle edge of disdain, the unspoken hostility that marked him as lower on the social food chain.With the popular ones, interactions were unpredictable. Usually they would strike up a casual conversation, even showing flashes of genuine friendliness. But the shift was always lurking beneath the surface—those sudden, cutting remarks that came out of nowhere, like knives hidden in their smiles. It was as if the betrayal was preordained, as if he was always meant to bear it.Then the teacher added two more names to their group: Tayo and Abeni, two of the most popular girls in class. Hiroki's heart sank a little when he heard their names. It should be fine, he told himself. There was no reason to think otherwise. But as the girls walked over, he could see it in their faces—the faint grimace of annoyance, the tight-lipped smiles that betrayed their preference to be anywhere else but here.Yet, for a moment, everything seemed almost normal. Tayo and Abeni exchanged pleasantries with Kelechi and Aiko, their laughter ringing out like soft chimes. They didn't ignore him either, acknowledging him with polite nods. It was a scene that, by all appearances, could have passed for any ordinary group project. Hiroki tried to relax, telling himself there was nothing to worry about, that he was reading too much into things.But there was something in the way they glanced at each other—something almost imperceptible, a silent exchange that made his stomach churn. They were being civil, sure, but he knew too well how easily that thin veneer of normalcy could crack.The assignment was simple enough: a group presentation on families—how they varied across cultures, what defined them, and how society shaped them. It sounded straightforward, but it had layers that needed unraveling.At first, things went smoothly. Kelechi, who usually kept to himself, started tossing out ideas about traditional Nigerian family structures. Aiko added her thoughts on the role of extended families in Japan. Tayo and Abeni, initially lukewarm about being in this group, started engaging too. They brought up modern ideas, talking about how the concept of chosen families was becoming more common, especially in big cities.It was an unexpected flow. Kelechi and Aiko were good at pulling facts from textbooks, while Tayo and Abeni used their social skills to figure out how to present those ideas in a way that wouldn't bore the class. They debated back and forth—whether non-traditional families were a shift in values or just a reflection of how things had always been.Hiroki even found himself jumping in sometimes. He suggested they include examples of how tech was changing families, like how people stayed connected through video calls. And to his surprise, the others actually listened. For a second, he almost forgot where he stood in the group's pecking order.But then, it all started to shift. They were discussing family obligations—whether kids should support their parents as they got older. Kelechi argued that, in some cultures, it was a duty. Abeni countered, saying that in modern settings, that expectation was fading fast."That's just old-fashioned thinking," Tayo said, flipping her hair with a shrug. "People today are too busy trying to survive on their own."Kelechi's eyes narrowed. "It's not old-fashioned if it's still happening. Just because it's different from what you know doesn't mean it's not valid."The vibe changed. What had been a back-and-forth exchange turned tense. The divide between the popular kids and the quieter ones was starting to show again. Aiko tried to smooth it over, suggesting they could cover both angles in the presentation. But the conversation had already shifted from brainstorming to something more like a power struggle.Hiroki stayed quiet, feeling that familiar tension knotting in his stomach. He knew where this was headedSensing the tension rising, Hiroki decided to step in. He knew how competitive high school kids could get—especially the popular ones. Trying to lighten the mood, he jumped in with an idea, trying to frame it as a relatable example. "Well, what if we think of it like... if Tayo and I were in a family—"Before he could even finish, Tayo's face twisted in disgust. "Eww," she cut in, her voice loud enough to turn a few heads nearby. She shot a quick glance at Abeni, who let out a detached chuckle, her expression practically screaming, Did you just hear what he said?Tayo rolled her eyes, brushing it off with an air of finality. "You know what, fine. Let's just move on. It doesn't even matter." And just like that, the conversation shifted. Kelechi and Aiko, who had been listening, immediately adjusted. They went back to discussing their topic, pretending nothing had happened. Maybe it was for their own sake, or maybe for Hiroki's. Or maybe it was because, in the weird rules of high school, it was better to pretend you hadn't seen the knife someone just plunged into someone else's back.But Hiroki knew they saw it. Kelechi's quick glances and Aiko's slightly stiff smile told him they had noticed. Around them, a few nearby students snickered. Others, confused, whispered, "What just happened?" and those who knew repeated it: "It wasn't that funny." But the laughter still came in low waves, spreading like ripples in a pond. Glances flickered his way, and just as quickly disappeared. No one would say it outright because, after all, all she said was "eww," right? It wasn't that serious.Except it was.Hiroki fell silent, his mouth clamped shut. For the rest of the class, he kept his eyes glued to the discussion, nodding along with a seriousness that had nothing to do with the topic. It was all he could do to stop the tears that burned at the edges of his eyes. He couldn't look weak here. Crying would mean he acknowledged it. And acknowledging it meant it was real.He could already imagine how it would spread if he broke down. How the whispers would grow into a roar by lunchtime. So he stayed there, focused on the meaningless conversation, as if it was the most important thing in the world.It was always the tiny things he looked out for—the cuts that never announced themselves at the start of the day but crept up on him with a quiet inevitability. He never worried about big, dramatic moments; it was the little things, the small, almost invisible wounds that stung the longest. The ones that never quite healed. He could sense them coming, like a shadow hanging over the day, a nagging feeling in his gut that told him it was only a matter of time."Another thrilling Friday night," he muttered under his breath. "Living the dream." He kicked a stray soda can, watching it rattle into a gutter before turning down a narrow side street. The alleys were quieter, darker, far from the noise and blinding lights. Rain gathered in uneven puddles, reflecting the weak flicker of aging street lamps. This was Neo-Kyoto's hidden side, where the neon glow faded into shadows. Hiroki liked it that way—quiet and unnoticed. Here, no one paid attention.His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, scrolling through a string of messages from his part-time job. The pay sucked, and the hours were even worse, but it was the only thing tethering him to the world of regular people.And, truthfully, he didn't mind being invisible. At least, that's what he told himself. But tonight, something felt off. The usual hum of background noise had faded, replaced by something sharper, more electric. He felt it before he saw anything—an uneasy prickling at the back of his neck, like static crackling beneath his skin. He paused, eyes scanning the alley. Nothing but rain, dim pools of light, and the faint, tinny sound of a retro track playing from someone's phone in the distance.Then he caught it: low voices, a muffled scuffle, the slap of hurried footsteps against wet pavement. His pulse quickened. Instinctively, Hiroki's gaze sharpened, and he turned the corner, muscles tensed, ready to confront whatever was waiting beyond the shadows.Three guys were crowded around a kid about his age, huddled against the wall with his shoulders hunched. One of them had the kid's collar clenched in his fist, a smirk playing on his lips as he dangled something in front of his face—a phone, Hiroki realized. The guy laughed, tossing it casually between his hands like it was a toy."Nice phone, huh? Bet it cost a fortune. What did you do to deserve this?" another one sneered, shoving the kid harder against the cold brick.Irritation flared in Hiroki, cutting through the fog of his usual detachment. His fists tightened, knuckles tingling with pent-up energy. The smarter part of him—the one that knew to keep his head down, to just turn away and pretend he hadn't seen—urged him to walk on. But tonight, that gnawing edge, the one that had been building all day, felt sharper than ever. It was like an itch he couldn't ignore."Hey," Hiroki called out, stepping into the dim glow of a nearby streetlamp.The three guys turned, eyes narrowing in surprise. For a moment, Hiroki almost regretted it. Almost."Oh, we got ourselves a hero here," one of them sneered, breaking into a laugh. "What's up, Spider-Man? You lost or something?""Yeah, must be one of those side-quest heroes," another one chimed in, grinning wide. "This isn't your mission, dude."Hiroki rolled his eyes, his voice dripping with annoyance. "Why don't you guys find something better to do? Like, I don't know… anything that doesn't make you look like extras from a budget Yakuza game."The guy holding the phone cocked an eyebrow, his grin vanishing. He stepped forward, giving Hiroki a slow, disdainful once-over. "You got a death wish, hero? How about you turn around and mind your own business before things get ugly?" Hiroki didn't budge. The irritation inside him twisted tighter, hotter, until it felt like something sharp was unraveling beneath his skin. It was familiar, that strange electric buzz thrumming through his veins—something he could never quite put into words. Like a low hum just waiting for the right moment to spark, to ignite.The guy stepped forward and shoved him hard. Hiroki staggered back a few steps, but as he regained his balance, that electric hum inside him suddenly snapped. It was like a switch had flipped, and for a split second, the world around him seemed to warp. A surge of energy pulsed from him in a wave, rippling outward.The guy's eyes went wide, his confident smirk collapsing into confusion. He stumbled back, blinking like he'd been hit by an invisible force. His friends exchanged quick, bewildered glances, the cocky bravado draining from their faces.Something had changed, and they knew it. Whatever they thought this was, it had just turned into something else entirely."What... what the hell was that?" the guy stammered, his voice cracking as he tried to shake off the tremor of fear creeping in.Hiroki had no answer. That strange, electric feeling was still thrumming beneath his skin, hotter now, almost sentient. It shifted inside him, like it was... watching. He swallowed hard, staring down at his hands. His fingers trembled, faint arcs of energy flickering like static over his skin. Whatever he'd just done, it was far from normal. And he could feel it—whatever it was—still lurking beneath the surface, waiting.The three guys exchanged panicked looks, muttering under their breaths. Without another word, they turned and bolted down the alley, their footsteps slapping against the wet pavement. Hiroki watched them go, his breath hitching as the adrenaline slowly ebbed away.He turned to the kid slumped against the wall, who was still staring at him with eyes wide as saucers. For a moment, Hiroki wondered if he looked just as terrified."You okay?" he asked, trying to sound calm even though his heart was still racing.The kid nodded shakily but didn't say a word. Hiroki wasn't sure if it was out of fear of the bullies—or fear of him.The kid gave a quick nod, scrambling to his feet and snatching his phone from the wet ground. He threw one last, uneasy glance at Hiroki before darting down the street, his footsteps echoing in the rain. It was clear he was shaken—by the bullies, sure, but more by whatever he had just witnessed.Hiroki was left standing alone, rain trickling down his hood, his heart still pounding in his chest. That strange, electric feeling was still there, simmering just beneath the surface like a storm he couldn't control. His hands trembled slightly as he stared at them, trying to make sense of what had just happened. He'd never felt anything like that before, never even imagined it was possible.But now, there was something else. A prickling sensation crawled up his spine, sending a shiver through him. It was that same feeling, the one that told him someone was watching.He froze, scanning the alley. It was dark, the rain beating down in relentless sheets. Empty. Or so it seemed.But there was that nagging feeling, that itch at the back of his mind telling him otherwise. He squinted into the shadows, straining to catch any hint of movement, any sound beyond the rain.Maybe it was nothing, he told himself. Or... maybe not.A shadow stretched across the wall opposite him, shifting and curling like smoke in water. Hiroki blinked, thinking it must be a trick of the light. But the shadow didn't stay still. It began to gather, swirling into something more defined—a smoky figure with two faintly glowing red eyes locked right onto him."What the...?" Hiroki's voice caught in his throat, heart hammering against his ribs. He took a step back, every nerve screaming at him to run.The shadow's mouth twisted into a grin, a shape that shouldn't have been possible. It made Hiroki's skin crawl. "Finally noticed me, huh?"A chill washed over him as the voice echoed—not from any physical direction, but from somewhere deep inside his mind, like it had wormed its way straight into his skull."Look, I don't know what kind of VR prank this is, but it's not funny," Hiroki shot back, his voice wavering despite his attempt to sound defiant. He took another step back, bumping into the cold, wet wall behind him. His eyes darted around, searching desperately for cameras or projectors hidden in the shadows. "Who's doing this?"The shadow figure let out a low, grating chuckle that sent shivers down Hiroki's spine, like nails dragging across glass. "You really think I'm some cheap hologram?" Its red eyes narrowed, flickering with something darkly amused. "I'm as real as that little power burst you threw back there."Hiroki's stomach dropped. Whatever this thing was, it knew about what happened just minutes ago. And it wasn't going away."Power burst?" Hiroki's voice came out thin, edged with panic. "Look, I don't know what you're talking about. And I'm not in the mood for creepy Halloween stunts, so just... go haunt someone else, okay?"The shadow's form seemed to tighten, swirling closer like smoke trapped in a bottle. The air around Hiroki felt thicker, harder to breathe. "Oh, don't be so dramatic, kid," it drawled, its tone almost playful. "Name's Arkan. I'm a Wraith. And judging by that spark I felt just now, you've got a nice little anger issue buried in there, huh?"Hiroki's face went pale. "A Wraith?" he echoed, shaking his head in disbelief. Even saying the word out loud felt ridiculous. Wraiths weren't real—they were just urban legends, like haunted AIs or rogue hackers who'd lost their minds in the network. Scary stories people whispered about but didn't actually believe."Yeah, yeah, I get it. 'Wraiths aren't real,' blah blah," Arkan said, sounding almost bored. But there was a dark amusement in those glowing eyes, flickering like embers. "But here I am, kid, and guess what? We're connected now. That little burst of anger you let loose back there? That's what pulled me in."Hiroki's mind reeled, heart pounding. "Connected? I don't need—" he started, but Arkan cut him off, the air around them crackling with energy."Oh, but you do." The Wraith's grin widened, more of a baring of teeth than an expression of joy. "That rage you've been bottling up for years? That's a wellspring of power, if you know how to use it. And lucky for you, I'm great with anger management."Hiroki took a shaky breath, pressing his back against the cold wall, trying to steady himself. "You're lying. This... this has to be some kind of glitch, an AR hack or something."Arkan leaned in, its smoky form mere inches from Hiroki's face. The red eyes glowed brighter. "Keep telling yourself that, kid. But deep down, you felt it, didn't you? That rush, that release. You've been running from it your whole life, but now? Now it's chasing you."Hiroki's throat tightened. This wasn't just some prank or glitch—whatever this thing was, it knew him too well. And for the first time, he couldn't tell if it was the Wraith's words or his own fear that made his blood run cold.Hiroki's stomach twisted. The last thing he needed was some ghostly... whatever-this-was latching onto him. He already felt like an outsider; having some angry spirit attached to him would be the final nail in his social coffin."Hard pass," he said, forcing his voice to stay steady. "I don't need you, and I don't even believe you're real. This is... it's just a hallucination. Stress, or maybe something I ate." Without waiting for a response, he turned sharply on his heel, fully intending to leave and never look back. He needed to put as much distance as possible between himself and that freaky shadow.Arkan's eyes narrowed, the smoky form rippling like disturbed water. "Sure, go ahead. Run away if that's what you do best," he called after Hiroki. "But that anger inside you? You can't outrun it. You'll be back."Hiroki's skin prickled with goosebumps as he felt the weight of Arkan's gaze on his back. He started walking, his pace quickening with every step. Soon, he was practically jogging out of the alley, the cold rain stinging his face. His heart pounded like a jackhammer, each beat echoing louder than the rain around him.This isn't real, he told himself. It's just stress, exhaustion, maybe even too much caffeine. Anything to explain away what he had just seen and heard. But no matter how fast he walked, that buzzing sensation under his skin wouldn't leave him. It clung to him, a reminder of the shadow's parting words.By the time he reached the main street, with its comforting blur of neon lights and distant chatter, Hiroki's breaths came out in short, ragged bursts. He tried to lose himself in the crowd, but the nagging feeling wouldn't go away. The worst part wasn't that he was scared.It was that a small, dark part of him wondered if Arkan was right.When Hiroki reached the main street, the neon lights and noise of Neo-Kyoto washed over him like a wave, but it did little to calm the frantic thudding of his heart. He slowed his pace, forcing himself to breathe. His hands were shaking.Get a grip, he told himself, jamming his fists into his pockets to stop the trembling. Ghosts aren't real. Wraiths aren't real. You just need sleep. That's all.But even as he tried to convince himself, he couldn't shake the gnawing feeling that something had shifted, that some part of him had crossed a line he didn't even know existed. The city lights were bright, the streets alive with chatter and the hum of traffic, but they couldn't erase the chill that clung to him like a second skin.He kept walking, letting the crowds swallow him up, trying to lose himself in the familiar noise and chaos. But no matter how hard he tried to drown it out, he couldn't forget the icy whisper of Arkan's words, still echoing in the corners of his mind:"You'll be back."And deep down, in the part of himself he tried to ignore, Hiroki wondered if that voice might be right.