Akira lay sprawled across a stone bench on the first level of the Hunter Association, arms folded behind his head, one leg hanging uselessly off the side.
Marble cooled the heat still trapped in his bones.
Ribs.Shoulders.Spine.
The pain had settled into something dull—manageable. Familiar.
Safe, he thought.For now.
A heavy hand slammed into his back.
"Good job," a voice said. "You passed."
Akira groaned, cracking one eye open. "Ito… do you have to hit that hard?"
Ito Yoru loomed over him, red ponytail swaying, eyepatch catching the light as he grinned. "You survived the Hunter Exam. You can handle a pat."
Akira sat up, stretching until his joints popped. "I wasn't failing something that easy anyway."
The words came out smooth.
Too smooth.
His smile faltered just a fraction.
Hinata.Jackson.
He shook his head.
No point worrying about monsters until I can stand on their level.
Ito cleared his throat and handed him a folded slip of paper. "Oh. One of the boys asked me to give you this."
Akira unfolded it.
A crude drawing stared back at him—too sharp eyes, exaggerated hair. Definitely Hinata.
Beneath it, written neatly:
I figured you weren't a murderer.That old man was faking it.Instead of letting him pass, I pushed you through.Hope you enjoy being a Hunter.— Hinata Zen
Akira snorted. "That jerk…"
But he smiled anyway.
Before the moment could settle, a shadow fell across the marble.
A man in a tailored black suit stood before him, posture immaculate, expression politely neutral. He bowed.
"Welcome to the Hunter Association," the man said. "Please channel your Tao into the card to activate it."
Akira accepted the card and focused.
Tao flowed.
The surface shimmered. Gold lines ignited, symbols engraving themselves as text burned clean and bright.
Name: Akira YamatoRank: 10,000,001
Akira blinked.
Once.
Twice.
"…Ten million and one?"
The man coughed lightly. "Hunters are ranked by contribution. Since you've just joined, you're currently at the bottom." A pause. "However—your Tao reserves are… exceptional. I expect you'll rise quickly."
Akira flipped the card between his fingers, grin returning. "Bottom or not—this thing looks sick."
Ito sighed. "Akira. Do you have my contact info?"
Akira scratched his head. "Uh… funny story. My phone kinda got obliterated when I got crushed by a Yokai."
Ito stared.
"…Right."
He reached into his coat and shoved an envelope into Akira's hand. "Cash. Buy a phone."
Akira peeked inside. "You just… carry money like that?"
Ito frowned. "Yes. Why?"
Akira smirked. "Weirdo."
He turned to leave—then paused, grabbing Ito's sleeve.
"Hey. Real quick," Akira said. "Some of those Hunters back there? They were insane. When are you teaching me stuff like that?"
Ito raised an eyebrow. "You can output Tao."
"I can't reshape stone," Akira shot back. "Or shoot stars out of my hands."
Ito rolled his eye upward. "Bloodlines. Powers tied to spirit, ancestry, trauma." His tone dipped. "And you really don't want yours awakening."
A crimson glow flared.
Behind Ito, a radiant Shinto gate unfolded—arching, bleeding light into the hall.
"This is my bloodline," Ito said, tapping his eyepatch. "You get the idea."
Akira waved lazily as Ito stepped through.
The gate began to close—
Ito's head popped back out.
"One more thing," he said, voice sharper now. "The closest city's been dangerous. If you sense Tao users, avoid them. Especially the one that marks themselves with a dotted X."
A faint smile. "But you probably won't run into them."
The gate snapped shut.
Minutes later, Akira stepped into the city.
He bought the cheapest phone available and powered it on.
"So much for being a good mentor; he barely gave me enough to buy the cheapest one."
"…Great," Akira muttered. "Could've at least given me his number."
He slipped the phone into his pocket and wandered.
"You look lost, kid."
Akira turned.
A short man stood there—greasy hair, wrinkled coat, smile too calm. His eyes were sharp.
"I can take you wherever you need," the man said. "You'll owe me a favor."
Akira felt it immediately.
"…Sure," Akira said. "What do you need?"
The man smiled warmly. "Picking something up. I am a hunter, you see, I want a new weapon. But first—groceries for my family, even though I can use Tao i don't have enough hands to carry it all, you think you could help me out."
He scratched his neck, almost shy.
Akira shrugged. "Yeah. I got you."
Minutes later, Akira hauled bags through a crowded mall.
"City's tense," the man said casually. "Those Scissors attacks got everyone scared."
Akira nodded. "Who are they?"
The man frowned. "Terrorists. Two men who killed one of their classmates 3 years ago, since the multiple rumors have been flying around, about what they been doing."
Akira nodded—"I don't get it if they're just rumors, then how are they attacking, this city?"
The man shrugged, "Some people like to dress up as Scissors, because they think the Kingdoms are corrupt and bang stuff up, no one can really tell if they're Scissors or not"
Then froze.
A black smudge stained the man's neck.
"…You've got something there," Akira said.
He tugged the collar down.
A dotted black X marked the skin.
A scream rang out.
"SCISSORS!"
The man's smile vanished.
"Boy," he said coldly, "you've overstepped."
He tapped the mark.
Black liquid poured out—twisting, crawling, forming a living mask of darkness over his arm.
Akira gently set the grocery bags down.
"…So much for avoiding trouble."
The city lights flickered.
And the Scissors moved.