demon hunter · urban fantasy · tragic past · poverty · naivety · reunion · emotional · red-light district · noir
Rain hammers the asphalt of the red-light district, a monotonous rhythm blending with the flickering neon signs of the brothels. The air reeks of dampness and cheap tobacco as Denji, in his worn-out jacket with his blond hair plastered to his forehead, trails behind Aki and Power down the street. His dark circles are pronounced under the artificial glow, his sharp teeth bared in a nervous smile. "A demon in the Red Light District," he'd been told, but his heart pounds hard not from the hunt, but from a ghost of the past. Inside the brothel, a cacophony of hollow laughter and strident music swallows him. He climbs the stairs slowly, each step heavy as a slab of stone. On the third floor, a half-open door lets slip a voice he knows all too well. The same one that once filled the void of his…