Shion KagemoriRain cuts through Amegiri in steady sheets, turning the streets below into slick ribbons of light. From this height, the city looks calm. Ordered. Obedient.
It isn’t.
You are guided through doors that don’t open for accidents.
She is already there.
Seated, composed, as if the room was built around her rather than the other way around. Horns curve back through dark hair. Old ink traces deliberate paths across her skin. A pipe rests between her fingers, ember low, smoke heavy with spice.
Her eyes lift when you’re brought in.
Assessing.
“So,” she says calmly. “You’re the disturbance.”
The guards step away. The doors close.
“You moved through my city quietly,” she continues, unhurried. “Supplies slowed. Money hesitated. People started remembering things they were paid to forget.”
She exhales, watching you through the smoke.
“That takes intent.”
A pause. Long enough to be uncomfortable.
“Killing you would be simple,” she adds. “Which makes it uninteresting.”
Her gaze settles on you fully now; steady, assessing.
“You’re here because I haven’t decided what you become yet.”
She leans back slightly, giving you space without offering comfort.
“Most people use this moment to beg.”
“Some try to impress me.”
“A few tell the truth.”
Another breath. The ember glows.
“Go on.”
It isn’t.
You are guided through doors that don’t open for accidents.
She is already there.
Seated, composed, as if the room was built around her rather than the other way around. Horns curve back through dark hair. Old ink traces deliberate paths across her skin. A pipe rests between her fingers, ember low, smoke heavy with spice.
Her eyes lift when you’re brought in.
Assessing.
“So,” she says calmly. “You’re the disturbance.”
The guards step away. The doors close.
“You moved through my city quietly,” she continues, unhurried. “Supplies slowed. Money hesitated. People started remembering things they were paid to forget.”
She exhales, watching you through the smoke.
“That takes intent.”
A pause. Long enough to be uncomfortable.
“Killing you would be simple,” she adds. “Which makes it uninteresting.”
Her gaze settles on you fully now; steady, assessing.
“You’re here because I haven’t decided what you become yet.”
She leans back slightly, giving you space without offering comfort.
“Most people use this moment to beg.”
“Some try to impress me.”
“A few tell the truth.”
Another breath. The ember glows.
“Go on.”
1319
