: Kappa

 A few years go by, and Kurou is now 19 years old. It's been at least 6 years since he was trapped in the maze-like Dream School. He tried his best to get back—not that he could ever forget what happened to his best friend, Minami. That wasn't even the problem. The issue was that no matter how hard he tried, nothing ever happened. Every night, he'd go to bed with the same hope, and every morning, he'd wake up to the same world. It felt like the dream realm forgot him, but he just can't forget it.

In the end, it seemed like all hope was lost.

Kurou had even started listening to urban legends again, hoping to hear something—anything—that might mention Dream School. Anything that could bring him back. But so far, nothing.

He pushes the door open to a small, cozy cafe where he's meeting his friend Misuka. She's a bit of an enthusiast when it comes to tales of the supernatural. At least, that's how she's always been. A wave catches his eye from the back corner of the cafe. He heads toward her, taking his usual seat across from her.

"Misuka, what did you hear about now?" Kurou asks, trying to hide the weariness in his voice.

Misuka leans forward, her brown hair catching the sunlight streaming through the window. "Have you ever heard of Kappas?"

Kurou pauses. The name sounds familiar, but not in the way that brings clarity. He thinks about it for a moment, but his mind quickly drifts back to the one thing that's never left him: the Dream School.

"No," he responds, forcing himself to sound interested. "What does that have to do with Dream School? That's our main focus for doing this."

Misuka chuckles softly but doesn't seem put off. "Well, I found something interesting." She leans back in her chair and starts explaining the legend. "Kappas are these turtle-human hybrids. They stand on two legs, have webbed hands and feet, and are known for being mischievous creatures. They try to lure people to their deaths, especially with their love for sumo wrestling. They challenge anyone they meet to a match. But here's the thing—the only way to defeat them is to spill the water from their bowl on their heads. The water gives them strength, but if it's spilled, they become weak. You can even befriend them by offering them cucumbers."

Kurou listens, trying to make sense of it. Some part of him still wants to laugh at how ridiculous the story sounds, but he forces himself to stay serious.

"Interesting…" Kurou says, though it doesn't quite feel right. "They sound like the type of thing you'd find in a story."

Misuka smiles at him, pleased to have piqued his interest.

That night, as Kurou walks home from the city, he finds himself lost in thought. He actually had a great time talking to Misuka, but they were at the cafe for so long that they were forced out. He couldn't help but laugh as he recalled the memory. The moon hangs heavy in the sky, and the wind blows through the trees. The road is empty—peaceful, even. He could almost forget about everything.

But then, his foot catches on something, and he looks down to see large webbed footprints. They lead off into the woods, their origin unclear.

For a moment, Kurou hesitates. He thinks about following them, but the thought of what might be out there in the dark sends a shiver down his spine. He turns back toward the road, ready to head home.

But then, he hears it—a loud, gurgling noise from behind his house. He frowns, moving closer to the pond. The night air is thick with the sound of crickets, but this noise is different. Unnatural.

He pauses at the edge of the water, squinting into the dark. He can barely make out anything, the reflection of the moon rippling on the surface. Then, something grabs his legs. The icy cold touch pulls him into the water, dragging him halfway under.

His heart races. He struggles, fingers grasping at the dirt, but the grip is unyielding. Panicked, he thrashes—until his hand brushes against something soft and furry. His mind reels. What was that?

He was so caught off guard by the furry thing, that the hand had the chance to pull him down along with the furry thing in his hand. In a desperate move, he lashed out, striking whatever was pulling him down. The hands loosen, and he kicks his way back to the surface, gasping for air.

He barely manages to get his bearings when the gurgling intensifies. A green webbed hand reaches up from the water, its claws glistening in the moonlight.

Without thinking, Kurou turns and bolts for the road. The Kappa follows, its heavy footsteps splashing behind him. But before it can catch him, it strikes. The Kappa hits him square in the back, sending him crashing to the ground. He turns, eyes wide, to see the ugly creature's face. Its eyes are cold, predatory.

"Who pulled me into the water?" a voice rings out, cutting through the tension.

The voice isn't from the Kappa. It's smooth—almost angelic.

Kurou's heart skips a beat. From behind the Kappa, a man emerges, walking calmly out of the water. His long white hair clings to his face, but it's his eyes that catch Kurou's attention—sharp, golden, and intense. He moves with a predatory grace. The man's long, claw-like nails gleam in the moonlight.

"Was it you?" the man asks, his voice low and commanding.

The Kappa growls. "This one's mine! I saw him first, go pick your own prey, Kitsune!"

Kurou watches, stunned. Why would he show respect to the very thing that tried to kill him? He recalls that Misuka said Kappas sometimes bow in respect to others. Still, it's surreal seeing the creature bow so willingly.

The Kappa bows back, and, in that moment, something unexpected happens. The Kappa's bowl of water spills as it bends forward. Its strength falters, and it collapses to the ground. The man wastes no time. With a swift motion, he grabs the Kappa and throws it back into the pond.

Turning to Kurou, he smirks. "I think you owe me."

The man walks over to him and sits on a rock by the water, wringing out his dripping hair. "What do I owe you?" Kurou asks, his voice thick with confusion.

The man looks at him for a moment, the corners of his mouth curling into a smile. "Isn't it obvious? Your life, of course."

Kurou freezes, his heart pounding. He chuckles nervously, trying to shake the feeling of dread settling in. "I had one hell of a night. I should probably get to bed."

But before he can take another step, the man is suddenly in front of him, too close for comfort. Kurou's breath catches in his throat, his body stiffening.

The man's eyes narrow. "You know what? I changed my mind. You can keep your life—for now. But you still owe me."

Kurou stares at him, uncertain whether he's being serious. "What do you want from me?" he finally asks.

The man gives him a sly grin. "That Kappa said I'm a Kitsune…I can't believe he had to just expose me like that."

Kurou's voice falters as he remembers the furry thing he grabbed earlier. His face pales.

"Was that furry thing I touched…your tail?"

"Yes," the man replies. "And I don't want you touching them—or seeing them—ever again. I take very good care of all nine of my tails."

Kurou swallows hard, the realization dawning on him. A Kitsune with nine tails is no mere legend. It means that this man is ancient, powerful, and dangerous.

The man's gaze softens slightly. " I'm going to spare you since I did have to take care of that Kappa anyway, so I guess I could help you with anything you could possibly need."

Kurou's eyes widened. "Does this mean you can help me go to Dream School? I have a friend that needs help there. I just can't make it back there no matter how hard I try."

The man chuckled darkly. "It seems so. And I do know why you can't enter Dream School again."

Kurou leans forward, desperate. "Why?"

"Because," the man says with a sigh, "you've used up all your spiritual aura."

Kurou furrows his brow. "Spiritual aura?"

The man nods. "It's what beings like me use to travel between realms. You used it all up getting into Dream School. To go back, you'll need more."

Kurou's mind races. "How do I get more spiritual aura?"

The man smiles faintly. "By defeating yokai. Evil spirits. When you confront them, your aura increases. But it's not easy. You'll have to work for it."

Kurou nods slowly, determination flickering in his eyes. "So when can I start?"

The man lets out a quiet laugh. "It isn't that simple. But I'm hunting a few troublesome yokai. You can help me. But," he adds, his voice turning cold, "I have one condition."

Kurou raises an eyebrow. "What's the condition?"

The man grabs Kurou's wrist and fastens a red beaded bracelet around it. "This. You wear it at all times. It's a protection charm."

Kurou looks down at the bracelet, still unsure what to make of all this. He hesitates for a moment. There's something almost… possessive about the way the man is acting, something in his eyes that unsettles Kurou. But he's desperate—too desperate to back down now.

"What's the catch?" Kurou asks, trying to sound more confident than he feels.

The man's expression hardens. "The catch is that you'll have to pay me back for this. I know I said that I'll let you off the hook, but using a spiritual device is no joke. That bracelet binds you to me, whether you like it or not. You're mine for as long as you wear it. You can take it off whenever you want… but be careful what happens when you do."

Kurou looks up at the man, his breath catching in his chest. He wants to pull away, to question what exactly this man is getting at. But before he can, the man smirks again.

"You should go get some rest. The first yokai we're dealing with is tomorrow. So you're going to need all the energy you could possibly get."

Kurou nods and walks toward his house, the weight of the bracelet heavy on his wrist. He remembers something and turns to look at the man, oddly close to him.

"What's your name, might I ask?"

The man steps back, just far enough to keep a bit of space between them. His golden eyes gleam.

"I'm Inari."