An Offer He Couldn't Refuse (Kenji, Rin, Itsuro)

The familiar murmuring of an excited crowd, a low and comforting din. The cloying sweetness of melted butter and stale popcorn thick in the air. Kenji, with his eyes still closed, could almost feel the vibration of a thousand footsteps through the cold, linoleum floor. It was the hum of normal life, a scene he knew by heart.

Then he opened his eyes.

The world that greeted him was completely disjointed with what he expected. The theater lobby stretched before him, not buzzing with life, but steeped in an decrepit silence. As if no one had stepped foot here in decades. A thick grey blanket of dust covered everything, softening the edges of once-vibrant posters to a faded sepia. The concession stand, once abuzz with the activity of hungry patrons and diligent staff, was now littered with emptied candy boxes and desiccated soda cups. Their once-bright colors were muted to a uniform, desolate brown.

It was all so empty.

A soft, synthesized chirp broke the oppressive silence, drawing his gaze. Beside him stood Tokiwa-chan. Her slender frame was hidden beneath a white technical jacket that was three sizes too large, glowing pink highlights tracing accross the cloth. Her black tights clung to her legs, the torn section at her calf revealing the supple gray 'flesh' beneath. Her most striking feature - the complex asymmetrical cluster of camera lenses, viewfinders, and brightly flashing screens that replaced her head - flickered with streams of data. EKG heartbeats, audio waveforms, digital timers. The only sound was the faint, rhythmic beeping of her EKG.

He loved that sound. Everytime there is a hospital scene in a film, he couldn't help but smile at the electronic tone. Couldn't help but cry when it stopped.

The light cast from her various screens was the only light in this darkened space. One screen shifted to display a simple '(•᷄- •᷅ ;)' emoticon.

"I can sense some- Yokai!- -Are you sure we should go through with this?" Her voice was like he remembered it. Soft and gently. Like laying your head on a pillow after a twelve hour shift. Every few words there was a light shift in tone and cadence. Like her speech was being composited from several different streams of spliced audio. It was a fair price to pay to hear her voice, he thought, to hear her speak at all.

Kenji waved a dismissive hand, a practiced gesture that did little to quell the familiar pang of guilt in his stomach. "Don't worry about it, Tokiwa-chan! We can just teleport away if they get too close, right?." The smart move would be to let her go ahead, to clear out the Bleeding Zone to the best of her ability. In this world, Kenji was a liability. But the thought of leaving her was a torment he couldn't bear. He needed her. That was what this was all about, after all.

Tokiwa-chan's expression screen flickered, the anxious expression giving way to a more neutral one (¬_¬"). She extended a hand towards him, which he graciously took. It was cold, metallic, plastic-smooth. A stark contrast to the warmth of Emi's hand. She pulled him to his feet, but when Kenji started to pull away, her mechanical fingers tightened just slightly. A gentle, almost possessive grip. Kenji paused before he relented, his hand quickly enveloped by hers. They moved forward, hand-in-hand, the soft beeping of her internal monitors a comforting counter to the silence that surrounded them.

They walked past rows of darkened theaters, the air growing colder with each step. Kenji peered through the windows of each door. At first, the flickering projections on the screens were nonsensical - static, a kaleidoscope of meaningless shapes, or dream-like warping that was more comparable to a rorschach test than any real film. But as they ventured deeper into the Bleeding Zone, the films warped, growing progressively more gruesome. Decapitated bodies writhed in silent agony, starving prisoners stared out with hollow eyes, and women, their faces contorted in silent screams, bled out in tubs of murky water. Kenji felt a strange, professional detachment to scenes he knew, logically, should have been horrific. Maybe it was desensitization from a lifetime of horror films. Or maybe he really was just that broken. He found himself focusing less on the gore and more on dissecting the practical effects, wondering how they achieved such realistic viscera.

Then they passed a theater where he could see the audience. An army of cronenberg-eque monsters, their harsh and gore-slick features barely visible under the light of the screen. Kenji looked for only a moment before his gaze fell to the decaying linoleum floor. In the few seconds he looked in there, it seemed like every single audience member had turned to stare directly at him through that window. Kenji continued to walk in silence, the grotesque images burning behind his eyelids. Forcing him to remember why he was here.

Three years. He had been Awakened for three years, and in that time, he had only detected maybe two dozen Bleeding Zones. He wasn't going out of his way to find them or anything, but it would be a stretch to call the apperance of one a common occurence.

Tonight, there were eight.

Eight distinct zones, appearing within an hour or two of each other, stretching across Kageoka like cancerous blooms. It was a sign. The veil was thinning, the boundaries between worlds wearing thin. Or perhaps the demons of the Idea World were growing desperate, or saw a moment of weakness that Kenji couldn't detect. Clearing a single zone was difficult, a task for a dedicated team of Awakened. To clear eight, scattered across the city, would overwhelm even the entire student body of Higan Academy - assuming they were all roughly on Kenji's level, that is. With Tokiwa-chan's scanning ability, he was certain to be one of the first to enter these zones.

This wasn't a crisis, not to Kenji. This was an audition. If the Nurarihyon, the lord of the Yokai, could keep him from losing her again, Kenji would gladly join the demon's side.

The pair walked for what felt like miles. Tokiwa-chan never once needed to teleport them away. Kenji wondered if the yokai somehow knew his intent. Did they sense his willingness to betray his own kind? And if they did, were they even sapient enough to care?

He didn't contemplate it for too long. Better not to. They finally the end of the of the hall, arriving at an ornate double-door emblazoned with the faded letters: 'SCREEN 1'. Tokiwa-chan's voice was barely audible, a hushed whisper breaking the quiet. "I can't beat- -what's in there, Director...- -Are you sure this is the right thing to do?"

Kenji pushed the doors open, offering no answer to the question he couldn't face himself. They found themselves in another movie theater, this one seemingly bereft of the monstrous viewers. On the screen, an older film played, its black-and-white images flickering through the gloom. Kenji recognized it in an instant - Freaks. It was a macabre, controversial film from the 30s, and most modern viewers would decry it as insensitive - but Kenji appreciated it for that very reason. It was a relic from another time, a piece of art that could not be created in the modern day. That alone made it something worth preserving.

In the very center of the front row, a single seat was occupied by a masked figure, their head tilted back. Fast asleep.

Kenji and Tokiwa-chan made their way down the aisle. As they approached, Tokiwa-chan's screen flickered between warning signs and a skull. Her digitized voice, hushed to avoid waking the threat, held an uncharacteristic urgency. "K-kenji-kun! We have to get out of here!- -This chick is gonna- -Wickerman- -our ass!!!"

Wickerman, huh? Immolation? Kenji glanced at the sleeping figure. They were not what he expected for a demon - She was a girl, but it was hard to tell with the strange mask and hat covering her face, or the thick jester motley draped over her body. The mask looked like some kind of anteater or elephant, while the hat was a floppy red-and-white thing that looked at home during the christmas season. If he leaned in, he could see a few strands of bluish hair peeking from beneath the mask.

It was too late to turn back now. He had found the 'boss' of the Bleeding Zone - and had even found it when it was vulnerable. Sparing her, waiting for her to awaken, would be a sign of diplomacy. A gesture of goodwill, if Yokai knew such a concept existed. Instead of waking the girl, Kenji quietly took the seat beside her, settling in to watch the film. Tokiwa-chan, after a moment of hesitation, reluctantly followed his lead, standing protectively behind his chair. All but one of her lenses had their gaze fixed on the sleeping figure.

About twenty minutes into the film, the girl stirred, the eyes on her mask beginning to fluter open. They blinked, her gaze unfocused, then turned her head, regarding the pair with a dismissive, almost bored air. A soft yawn escaped her lips, her voice a sleepy monotone.

"You've got guts, I'll give you that... yawn... Most humans run screaming from my dreams..." Her voice was delicate, almost a lullaby, but even Kenji could sense the malice laced just beneath the surface. "I... Suppose you wish for an introduction...? You may call me Baku... I am the Forty-Second of Nurarihyon's Hundred Demons... sigh..." The eyes of her mask seemed to squint slightly, as if trying to bring Kenji into clearer focus. "What is a lone human doing so far in the Bleeding Zone, disrupting my nap?"

Kenji, a practised smile already in place, spoke with the soothing deferential tone he reserved for difficult actors. "I... I mean no harm, Baku-sama. I'm Kenji Kurasawa, and, uh, I wish to speak with the Nurarihyon."

A small, airy laugh escaped the demon. "Lord Nurarihyon? How bold... sigh... No human is worthy of his audience. You merely seek his attention like a gnat buzzing around a flame. But... you didn't attack. So... I'll listen, human... What do you believe could be worthy of Lord Nurarihyon's ear? Yawn..."

Kenji paused. This was probably for the best. He had managed to curry favor with this Yokai, however slight. It would make this next part much easier.

"I want what the Nurarihyon wants, Baku-sama. The union of the Idea World and the Real one. It's the only way to keep my Idolon forever."

The eyes of Baku's mask widened just a fraction, a flicker of surprise crossing her unmasked features. A single gloved hand raised beneath the mask, as if to rub at the eye underneath, before she spoke again. "That would result in the deaths of many humans... Well, most humans, really... You understand that, yes? All that 'beautiful', fleeting life... snuffed out like candles... yawn..." Her tone was almost curious.

"I don't care," Kenji stated flatly.

There was a pause in the air, as if he was expected to say something else.

When he did not, the Baku began to laugh.

"Heh... Heheh.... HAHAHAHA~!!!"

It was a shrill, dry sound that resonated strangely in the otherwise silent theater. It was also the most emotion that Kenji had seen cross the demon's face since meeting her. "Quite the little narcissist... aren't you? It's refreshing. Most humans are usually so… loud... about their morals. So certain in their flimsy justifications... Tell me - you're not entirely human, are you?"

Before Kenji could process the question, Tokiwa-chan’s voice cut in, sharp with anger. "It's not like that! They'll be- -reborn! If the world- -s are united, then everyone can live together forever!- -No one will ever have to be alone again!"

Baku finally turned to regard Tokiwa-chan, her head tilting. She stared for a second before waving a dismissive hand. "See? That's what I was talking about... Justifying the deaths of billions to satisfy a selfish desire... yawn... but if it helps you sleep at night, who am I to argue?" She paused, another languid stretch rippling through her.

"Very well, human. For your service, your humanity, I shall grant you what you seek. Power. Allies. A place in the new wo-"

"My Idolon?"

"... Yes... Forever...sigh"

Kenji nodded. When the Baku didn't respond, he spoke once more.

"I offer you my humanity, Demon."

Baku stood, her lithe form casting a shadow on the screen behind her. It was not the shadow of the motley girl - instead, it was a wispy, vaguely mammalian shape, with a slick and dexterous trunk that snaked out like a leech. Kenji instinctively recoiled, pulling Tokiwa-chan protectively behind him. The shadow elongated, trunk moving to pierce the boy's own shadow. He felt a faint tug, a pressure like a dentist extracting a tooth under anesthesia. The shadow pulled back, a soft light at the end of its trunk.

The film in the projector behind them bubbled, melted, and burned away to nothing, leaving the screen blank. The process was painless, over in seconds.

The theater lights flickered on, banishing the shadows. The space was as decrepit and barren as the lobby, but without the oppressive darkness, it looked far less intimidating. Just… dirty.

Kenji looked around, surprised. "That was... it? So easy?"

Baku regarded him, a hint of annoyance in her mask's eyes. She let out a soft snort. "What, did you expect some grand, agonizing curse like that Beast's 'Mark?'... sigh... Pathetic. The will to forfeit what you are is all that is required. Though... most scream a little. Are you so quiet amongst the other humans...?" She held her gloved hands in a mock, placating gesture "Not that I mind, of course... yawn..."

The Baku began to walk up the aisle towards the exit. Kenji moved to follow, Tokiwa-chan trailing just behind.

"I can tell your Idolon is a perceptive type, yes...? Surely you sensed the other Bleeding Zones appearing all at once...? It was for this exact reason, you know... Collection. Collecting humans to turn into Nightmares... Corrupting Awakened like you was a nice bonus, however..." She yawned, stretching languidly. "The slithering Omukade is paricularly eager, and the bloated Ogama is always so greedy... But I, Baku, have surely done best~. Hmph! I turned an Awakened without lifting a finger, or touching a dream... Even Lord Kakito himself will be impressed, when he returns to us... yawn..."

"Tell me about the others," Kenji pressed.

Baku glared, the eyes of her mask narrowing slightly. "You give commands now, little 'director'? Shall I tear out your tongue? Crack open your skull and feed on your dreams at the source? Insolent... But I suppose it matters little." She sighed. "The Bleeding Zones are unstable. They will collapse within a day or two at most... even if no Awakened culls them. Should any other humans be… recruited… I will send an envoy so you may meet. My work here is... almost done. Yawn..."

Baku stretched once more, her joints popping with an almost cartoonish sound. "Our business is concluded. Go back to your world, little director." With a lazy wave of her hand, the theater doors swung open, sucking them in like a vortex. The world fragmented, dissolving into a flurry of film static. Kenji felt a sickening lurch as his feet fell on hard ground, and then he was standing outside the Kageoka Grand Theater. The pristine modern architecture was a jarring contrast to the abandoned theater he was exploring only seconds prior. The small camera in his hand chirped. He popped open the side screen, reading the text carefully etched across it.

ZONE CLEARED




Two days later, the air outside Morinaga Videos was thick with the scent of cheap oil and smoke from the ramen shop next door. Kenji had just finished his shift, meticulously cleaning the rows of ancient VHS tapes with a reverence that was completely out of sync with his ¥1000/hour salary. He leaned against the graffiti-covered brick wall, idly messing with his camera before framing a shot of a stray cat fastidiously licking its paws in a sunbeam. He knew there were two others, two more corrupted Awakened, roughly his age. The envoy Baku had sent, a folded paper shikigami with a charcoal sketch inside, had been remarkably vague - giving little information beyond their apperance, and the time and place of the meeting. It was a bit disturbing to realize that the Baku, somehow, knew where Kenji worked...

He lowered his camera, his gaze drifting across the street. Half-hidden by a telephone pole, a girl stood. Her hands were stuffed deep in her pockets and her dark hair obscured much of her face. She was looking his way, but when their eyes met, she quickly turned and faked interest in a faded flyer taped to the post. Kenji recognized her vaguely - someone from school from school. A quiet girl from another class, the kind of extra who seamlessly faded into the background.

"Satoru-san?" Kenji called out.

She flinched, her shoulders hunching. She took a moment, then mumbled, her voice almost swallowed by the city noise, "It's, uh… Satou-san." She avoided his gaze, shuffling awkwardly across the street.

"Ah, sorry about that, Satou-san!" Kenji beamed, clearly unphased by his mistake. "Glad you could make it to the casting call!"

Rin just looked down at her worn-out sneakers. "Y-yeah, uh... Not really sure that's what this is..."

Before Kenji could respond, another voice cut in, smooth and confident. "A pleasure to meet you both. I presume you are Kurosawa-san, and you must be Satou-san."

A boy approached, the very picture of a model student. His Higan Academy uniform was immaculate, and his smile was a politician's. Arakawa Itsuro. This one Kenji knew. Popular, brilliant, and seemingly the perfect rival to the Student Council President. He was the last person Kenji expected to see selling out humanity.

Itsuro extended a hand first to Kenji, then to Rin. His handshake was firm but not aggressive. Perfect. Rin barely touched his hand before pulling hers back as if burned.

Itsuro took in the scene, unbothered. "Perhaps we should move somewhere more private? This alley should suffice."

"Even better," Kenji interjected, dangling a key. "The back room. It's got a minifridge!"

Rin seemed suprised as Kenji moved for the door of Morinaga Videos, opening the aged door with little difficulty. Itsuro, on the other hand, simply brushed past the pair, walking through the now open door and moving for the back room of the shop. They had to shimmy into the back rooms, moving between stacked boxes and racks of VHS tapes that made the space feel like it would fit in a hoarder's house. Once the traitors were safely enshrined in the space, the air grew noticeably more tense. Itsuro's practiced smile remained, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He leaned casually against a rack of dusty VHS tapes, his voice dropping to a low, business-like tone. "So. Our first move against the Student Council?"

Kenji's eyes lit up, his inner director taking over. "Ooh! We go full Poltergeist on them! Flickering lights, spooky noises, the whole deal! I've got maps of the school from my Home Alone phase, we can set up traps, spread rumors. If they start telling ghost stories about us, we can be like Keyser Söze!" He bounced on the balls of his feet, buzzing with manic energy.

Rin, huddled against one of the stained walls, visibly cringed as Kenji spoke. "So stupid..." She muttered under her breath.

Itsuro, however, managed to conceal his disappointment. His tone was patient but firm, cutting through Kenji's enthusiasm. "That's... A good start, Kurosawa-san. However, the Student Council is unaware that any opposition exists within their ranks. Your plan would only put them on high alert without providing any tactical advantage. We don't even know for certain who among them is Awakened. That should be our priority, before we begin the, uh... 'main shoot'."

"Hm? Oh, that's easy." Kenji patted his camera smugly. "My Idolon is a scouting type. If we can get in the same Bleeding Zone as them, she can tell us everything! Where they're at, what abilities they have, their weaknesses - whatever we need! Then it's just a matter of waiting for them to leave so we can I.D. them in the real world."

Itsuro nodded slowly. "Better. But it has a flaw. They have superior numbers. It's statistically probable that someone on their side possesses a similar scouting power. If we are observing them, they are likely observing the zone as well. What prevents them from detecting us in turn? We cannot afford to have our identities revealed so soon." His gaze, though polite, was as sharp as a knife.

Kenji paused, his fingers fidgeting with the camera strap. Itsuro had a point. If the Student Council had as many Awakened allies as they expected, then it was almost certain they possessed abilities that could mirror Tokiwa-chan's. And unlike the Student Council, their group needed to stay in the shadows - at least until the third act.

Luckily, Kenji didn't need to come up with an answer. Rin, still huddled by the wall, spoke up again - her voice quiet but much more clear in the silent space.

"T-that won't be a problem," she mumbled, shifting her weight. "My Idolon… she can conceal presences. If you both stay close to me, and we keep our distance, they won't deteect us. Probably."

Itsuro's smile returned, a flicker of genuine appraisal in his eyes as he looked between the manic director and the gloomy occultist. "Excellent. Then our plan is set."

He straightened, addressing them both as a commander would his troops. "Our first objective is intelligence gathering. We'll use the next Bleeding Zones as a staging ground. Kurosawa-san, your Idolon will be our eyes. Satou-san, your Idolon will be our shadow. I will handle any who manage to pin us down and buy time for our escape. First, we identify every piece on the board. Then… we can begin removing them."

Kenji grinned, pumping a fist in the air. "Fuck yeah! It's like The Thing!"

Rin just nodded, stuffing her hands back into her pockets. She seemed to be more comfortable now that her role was defined.

It was a rocky alliance. They were not friends, barely even acquaintances. But they all wanted the same thing.

And they had all paid the same price to get it.

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Pub: 26 Sep 2025 08:54 UTC

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