In a room within an apartment complex, a young man with silver hair lay. Small but unmistakable dark horns sprouted from his head, and a tail covered in gray scales peeked discreetly from behind his waist, making it clear he wasn't human. He slept soundly in his bed, completely oblivious to the outside world.
The shrill alarm clock blared, instantly irritating him. With a low grunt that barely broke the morning silence, he turned it off. A few minutes later, he opened his eyelids, revealing intense magenta eyes.
He sat up in bed and then stood up. His toned and attractive body was a work of art, capable of drawing female gazes and arousing the envy of other men. After a few quick stretches, he sank to the floor to begin his morning routine.
"One, two, three, four, five..." he counted softly as he squatted down.
The wooden floorboards creaked softly with the impact of each repetition.
"Ninety-five, ninety-six, ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine… one hundred," he finally concluded.
After finishing his workout, he let out a long sigh and stood up, heading to the bathroom. After washing his face, he looked at himself in the mirror.
"It's been twenty years since I was reborn into this world," he remarked, staring at his reflection. "Time flies."
From a young age, he retained vivid memories of his previous life on Earth. As an adult, he was a soldier who fought in World War III and died in service. By a twist of fate, he was reincarnated as a baby in this world, just like in the isekai stories a squadmate used to tell him.
He had no parents. He was abandoned at the gates of an orphanage with a note that contained only one name: Azarion. As he grew up, he discovered that this world was similar to Earth, but with one fundamental difference: the supernatural and magic were real. At the orphanage, he lived with children and caretakers of various races, which confirmed the existence of other species.
He also discovered that he wasn't human, but a dragon, one of the most powerful and feared creatures in the world. Because of this, his body was naturally stronger and more resilient than that of an ordinary human.
He lived at the orphanage until he was ten years old, when he was adopted by a Japanese human couple. They took him into their home, where he met their daughter, who would eventually become his sister. They treated him with genuine affection, as if he were their own flesh and blood. Although he sometimes argued with his sister, their relationship was always good.
He attended school, learned more about the world and the supernatural, made some friends, and, as expected, got into fights with the occasional bully. After graduating, he decided to become independent. That's how she ended up moving to an apartment complex exclusively for yōkai, located in a quiet area with parks, schools, and supermarkets nearby.
Sometimes she missed her old world and the people she had left behind, but she decided not to cling to the past and instead make the most of her second life.
After finishing her reflection, she left the bathroom, took some clothes from the closet, and dressed in a turtleneck shirt and a leather jacket. Then she went to the kitchen to make breakfast.
"It's about time I found a job, but I don't know what kind," she muttered as she cooked.
After breakfast, she washed the dishes, grabbed her backpack, and left the apartment. It was 7:30 in the morning. The hallway was quiet.
The door to the neighboring apartment opened, revealing a strikingly beautiful woman. Her white hair, with subtle icy-blue highlights, was pulled back in a slightly messy bun. Her icy blue eyes gazed at him with a warmth that contrasted sharply with the cold aura surrounding her. She wore a dark skirt and a white turtleneck sweater, covered by a light blue cardigan.
She was his neighbor, Yukino Mifuyu, a yuki-onna-type yōkai.
(image)
"Good morning, Azarion-san," she greeted him with a gentle smile. Her voice was sweet, with a crystalline tone.
"Good morning, Yukino-san," he replied with a slight nod. "Heading to work?"
"Yes, although I'm starting a bit later today," she explained as she closed her door. "I wanted to thank you again for helping me with the moving boxes."
"It was nothing," he said calmly. "It's the least neighbors can do. If you need anything else, don't hesitate to let me know."
Yukino gave him a genuine smile.
"I really appreciate it. Have a good day," she said softly.
"You too," he replied.
They parted ways—she heading toward the elevator, and he toward the stairs.
Azarion descended at a steady pace and stepped outside. The morning was calm and pleasant. Sunlight filtered through the trees, reflecting off the asphalt. People of many races walked along the sidewalks: humans, kitsune, oni, and other yōkai, all coexisting in harmony.
He knew it hadn't always been like this. According to what he had learned in school, a conflict between all races had occurred a hundred years ago, ending in peace agreements. That they now lived together peacefully felt almost like a miracle.
With those thoughts in mind, he walked to a nearby convenience store. As he entered, the familiar ding-dong rang. He grabbed a canned coffee and an energy bar, briefly glancing at the bulletin board but finding nothing of interest.
At the register, he was assisted by a cashier with dog ears and a tail.
"That'll be four hundred and fifty yen," she said with a professional smile.
Azarion paid, thanked her with a nod, and left the store. As he put away the energy bar, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Seeing his mother's name on the screen, he answered naturally.
"Hi, Mom," he greeted her in his usual calm, deep tone.
"Azarion, my son! It's so good to hear your voice! How are you? Are you taking good care of yourself in that new apartment?" she replied enthusiastically.
"Everything's fine," he said while walking steadily through the crowd. "I just stepped out of a convenience store. How are things over there?"
"Your father's the same as always," his mother laughed. "Right now he's in the yard trying to convince the neighbors that his bonsai trees are the best in the neighborhood. And Shiori… well, you know how she is. She complains about school, but yesterday she got an excellent grade in math. She says she misses you—though she won't admit it out loud."
"Tell her I'll try to visit on Saturday," Azarion said, casually sidestepping a pair of oni children running down the sidewalk. "As for me, I'll keep looking for a job."
"That's good," she said proudly. "You're a very responsible young man. Your father and I are very proud to have a son like you."
Azarion smiled at that. Even though he wasn't of the same blood or race, his parents loved him deeply—and he loved them just as much.
"By the way…" she added in a more suggestive tone. "Have you thought about getting a girlfriend yet? With how handsome you are, I'm sure there are plenty of women interested in you."
"Mom…" Azarion murmured with a slow sigh.
"All right, all right," she conceded. "But don't close yourself off so much. I'd love for you to have a lovely wife someday—and for the two of you to give us some cute grandbabies."
"I'll keep it in mind, Mom," he replied. "Give Dad my regards. I'll talk to you later."
"Take good care of yourself, my son. We love you very much."
Azarion smiled softly before hanging up and slipping his phone back into his jacket pocket.
He continued walking along the main avenue, but as he turned a corner, a discordant sound interrupted his calm. It came from a narrow alley between an office building and an old warehouse—rough laughter and voices dripping with malice.
"Come on, kitty, don't be so difficult. We just want to talk for a bit."
Azarion stopped. His instincts, forged on battlefields of another world, went on high alert. He walked toward the alley entrance and saw the scene: three disheveled men had a young woman cornered against the far wall.
The girl was a nekotama. She had pink hair, shoulder-length and slightly messy, framing delicate features now pale with fear. Her cat ears, the same shade of pink, were flattened against her head, and her long, flexible tail swayed nervously from side to side. She wore simple clothes that accentuated her curvy, feminine figure. Her large teal-green eyes shone with a mix of panic and indignation.
"I told you to leave me alone," she said, trying to keep her voice steady, though her feline pupils were fully dilated.
"And what if we don't?" one of the men—a bulky guy with boar-like features—stepped forward.
"You three—leave that girl alone."
Azarion's voice echoed through the alley, cold and deep like distant thunder. The thugs turned around, startled by the interruption. When they saw only a lone silver-haired young man, the leader burst out laughing.
"Don't stick your nose where it doesn't belong, kid," the middle one snapped. "We're just 'talking' with the girl. Get lost before we break your face."
Azarion didn't move. His magenta eyes narrowed, fixed on them with predatory intensity.
"I'll give you one last chance," he said calmly. "Leave now, and nothing will happen."
The boar-like thug, enraged by the stranger's arrogance, growled and lunged forward, throwing a punch straight at Azarion's face. For a normal human, the blow would have been fast—but for a dragon with the reflexes of a veteran soldier, it moved in slow motion.
Azarion simply tilted his head aside, letting the punch miss, and in one fluid motion countered with a sharp strike to the solar plexus. The man doubled over, all the air forced from his lungs, and collapsed to his knees, groaning in pain.
"Bastard!" Another thug pulled out a knife and tried to attack, but Azarion was faster. He grabbed the man's wrist with bone-crushing strength and slammed him into the wall with a forceful shove.
The third thug, who had stayed back, stepped away after noticing something he hadn't seen in the shadows before. When his eyes locked onto the small dark horns and the overwhelming aura of power radiating from the young man, his face turned pale.
"He's… he's a dragon!" he screamed, his voice shaking with terror.
In this world, no one in their right mind challenged a dragon in physical combat. The other two, seeing Azarion's glowing magenta eyes, didn't hesitate. They helped their injured companion up and fled the alley in a frantic rush.
Silence returned. Azarion relaxed his shoulders and turned to the nekotama, who was still pressed against the wall, staring at him in shock.
"Are you okay?" he asked, softening his tone.
The girl's teal-green eyes widened as she looked at him.
"…Azarion?" she whispered.
Azarion frowned slightly when she said his name, but after looking at her more closely, he realized who she was.
It was Mika, a former classmate from his school days.
(image)
"Mika? Is that really you?" he asked, lowering his guard completely.
Mika forced a smile, though her ears still trembled a little. "In the flesh… or, well, in fur and tail. It's been a long time, Azarion."
They left the alley to talk more calmly. Azarion led her to a small nearby bench. He briefly told her about his life—how his parents supported him, his graduation, and how he now lived in the apartments, searching for any kind of job to support himself.
"Looks like things turned out great for you," Mika sighed, glancing at her worn-out boots. "The world hasn't been so kind to this little kitty."
Mika explained her situation with a mix of bitter humor and sadness. After school, low-paying jobs and bad luck piled up. With no money for rent, her landlord had thrown her out that very morning.
"So… here I am," she said, trying to joke as she pointed at herself. "I'm literally a stray cat now. No home, no food—and creeps like those chasing after me."
Azarion fell silent. Seeing the girl who had once been the soul of the classroom in such a state made a sharp pang of pity strike his chest.
Suddenly, Mika's eyes lit up. An idea crossed her mind, and she leaned closer, invading his personal space with that feline energy unique to her.
"Hey, Azarion!" she exclaimed with renewed enthusiasm. "You live alone, right?! What if you let me stay with you? Just until I find a job and can get my own place!"
"Mika, do you realize what you're saying?" he replied flatly. "You're suggesting living alone with a man. Do you understand the risk—or what people might think?"
Mika pouted and put on her best Puss in Boots expression, clasping her hands together pleadingly.
"There's no problem as long as it's you, Azarion. I know you're a responsible gentleman beneath that grumpy face," she said, leaning even closer. "Besides… are you really going to leave such a beautiful girl like me on the street? Alone? Defenseless? At the mercy of the cold and sewer thugs who want to put their filthy hands on this cute little kitty?"
Azarion rolled his eyes. He knew she was exaggerating to manipulate him—but she wasn't entirely wrong. He couldn't leave her out there, knowing that more men like those thugs might attack her… or worse. He let out a long, resigned sigh.
"Fine," he finally said. "But there will be rules."
Mika straightened up, eyes shining with anticipation.
"Rule one: no mess. Rule two: no guests without my permission. Rule three… behave. Got it?"
"YES! YOU'RE THE BEST!" Mika shouted, throwing herself at him in a tight hug that nearly knocked him off balance.
Azarion stood there stiffly, feeling the warmth and softness of the nekotama against his leather jacket, wondering just what kind of trouble he had gotten himself into today.