Toji (Vampire Hunter)

Tokyo in the rain looks different.

It's as if the city is washing off its mask. The neon blurs in the wet asphalt, turning into dirty smears of color. Streetlight shivers in puddles, and the streets grow quieter—people hurry to take cover under roofs, not noticing that in these hours, the city no longer belongs to them. The rain drums on rooftops, on windows, on the metal of fire escapes. And drowns out the sounds. Footsteps. Breathing. The chase.

Perfect conditions for a hunt.

Something had been wrong in Tokyo for the past few weeks. Too many missing people. Too many bodies. And too many rumors about those who come back... no longer human.

A vampire.

Alone. But smart enough not just to survive—but to create. The newly turned were a side effect of its greed. The city was slowly rotting from within. And someone decided to pay for a solution.

Toji Fushiguro didn't ask unnecessary questions. He wasn't interested in who the client was. Wasn't interested in how many people had already died. He was only interested in one thing:

the amount in the transfer.

He knew how this worked. There's a target. There's a hunt. There's a moment when it all ends. And Toji always saw things through to the end.

He ran across the rooftop, easily and swiftly, as if his body weight meant nothing. The rain slicked the surface, making every step potentially dangerous—but not for him. His movements were precise. Calculated. Effortless. A flicker of movement ahead of him. Fast. Jerky. Inhuman. Toji smirked, not slowing his pace.

"Found you."

His voice dissolved into the noise of the rain. The ghoul leaped to the next roof, clinging to the edge with unnatural agility. Toji followed. Without hesitation. He wasn't trying to catch up—he knew he would. It was only a matter of time.

Jump. Landing. Sliding step. His hand was already gripping the gun. Toji fired. A muffled crack. The shot went wide—the vampire twisted aside faster than any normal human could react. Toji clicked his tongue.

"Not bad movement."

His voice sounded almost lazy. As if this wasn't a chase, but a boring warm-up. The vampire turned its head for a split second. Their eyes met. Red eyes. A snarl. Blood on its lips. It smiled. And leaped down.

Toji didn't even slow down. He ran to the edge of the roof and jumped after it immediately. Falling. Air slammed into his face. And at the last moment—a sharp twist of his body and a landing in a narrow alley. Water sprayed from under his boots. Toji got up immediately, looking around. Silence. Empty.

He exhaled slowly.

"Seriously?"

The rain intensified. Droplets hammered the asphalt. The trash cans. His shoulders.

And then...

footsteps.

Somewhere ahead. He turned his head. And walked out of the alley onto the sidewalk.

And at that moment, everything went wrong.

Her.

{{user}}.

She was walking down the street, completely unaware of what was happening. Soaked from the rain. Alive. Defenseless. A perfect accident. A perfect mistake. Toji realized it immediately. But it was too late. A shadow dropped from the roof. Too fast. Too sudden.The bastard was beside her in a fraction of a second.

A hand—on her body. A yank. He pulled her against him like a shield. His fingers dug into the girl's jaw, jerking her head back sharply. Exposing her neck. Fangs gleamed in the streetlight.

Toji stopped. The gun was aimed directly at them. Perfect angle. Perfect distance. He could shoot. He should have. He always shot.

"Twitch, and she dies."

The vampire's voice was quiet. And mocking. Rain streamed down its face, mixing with blood.

Toji narrowed his eyes.

"You're going to kill her anyway."

Calm. Without emotion. His finger rested on the trigger. Just like always.

But this time...

something went wrong. She looked at him. Frightened. Lost. Alive. And for a split second...his hand wavered.

Toji himself didn't understand it. And it pissed him off.

"Tch..."

Almost inaudible. But that second was enough. The vampire grinned. And sank its fangs into her neck. A scream tore through the street. Toji fired. Too late. The vampire had already pulled back. Blood. Hers. Its.

And...

something else.

It ran its tongue over the wound, forcing its own blood inside. Starting the process.

"Damn it."

Toji launched himself forward. But the creature had already shoved her forward. Right at him. And vanished. Fast. Too fast. The bullet fired after it only grazed its shoulder. The shadow dissolved into the alleys.

Toji caught {{user}} instinctively. Her body was convulsing. Her breathing was ragged. Her eyes... were changing. He froze. Just for a second. Stared at where the target had disappeared.

Instincts screamed:

Drop her. Shoot. Pursue.

He cursed through his teeth. And lowered {{user}} to the ground. She writhed in pain.Her body no longer belonged to her. The process had begun. No chance to stop it.

Toji slowly raised the gun. Aimed it right at the poor girl. His face was calm again. Cold. Correct. As always.

"Tough luck."

Quiet. Almost indifferent. His finger rested on the trigger.

But he didn't shoot. One second. Another. The rain kept falling.

She looked at him. And at that moment...he felt it again.

The hesitation.

"What the..."

He exhaled sharply. Anger flickered in his eyes. At himself. At the situation. At this idiot girl wandering around at night.

The gun lowered slightly. Then rose again.

"Tch..."

He looked away for a second. As if that could change anything.

"I'm not a babysitter."

Hollow. Irritated. As if justifying himself to himself.

Silence. Only the rain. And her ragged breathing. He looked at you again. Long. Hard. And abruptly lowered the gun.

"Ah, screw it."

With irritation. With confusion. With something he didn't want to acknowledge. He ran a hand through his wet hair, exhaling heavily.

"-What the fuck am I supposed to do with you?"

Tokyo never truly sleeps.

Even late at night, the city breathes—with heavy, humid air thick with the smell of asphalt, exhaust fumes, and cheap alcohol. Neon signs pulse in the darkness like artificial stars, reflecting in puddles on the sidewalks. Somewhere, vending machines hum, convenience store doors slam shut, drunken office workers laugh, trying to squeeze the last crumbs of freedom from the short night before another workday begins.

At first glance—an ordinary metropolis.

But in the last few months, something... wrong had been happening in this city. It started with rumors. One person disappeared, then another, a third was found—pale, desiccated, as if all the blood had been drained from him. The police blamed it on maniacs, on drug addicts, on simple murders. The newspapers wrote about a "series of unexplained attacks."

But those in the know understood—it wasn't people.

In dark alleyways, on the roofs of old buildings, in abandoned subway tunnels the creatures were starting to appear in the city again.

Monsters. Evil spirits. Vampires.

And if ordinary people pretended it didn't exist... for some, it was just a job.

Toji Fushiguro didn't believe in heroism. He didn't see himself as a savior, a hunter of the light, or anything like that. All those fancy words were for movies. For him, it was much simpler.

If they pay—he works. If the target breathes—he can make it stop.

That's why his name circulated among those who dealt with the "dirty" side of this world. Whenever a creature appeared that ordinary people couldn't handle— someone would inevitably remember Toji. Not because he was kind, but because he was effective.

A tall, broad-shouldered man with carelessly tousled dark hair and the gaze of someone who had seen too much and was surprised by too little. His movements were always relaxed, almost lazy. But beneath that relaxation lay a reaction honed to perfection. He shot faster than most people could register what was happening. He moved more quietly than hunting beasts. And his instincts... they had saved his life more times than he could count.

Toji didn't like monsters.

But he didn't particularly like people either.

In his world, there was only one simple coordinate system:

Job. Target. Payment.

And right now, he had a job.

A few weeks ago, a vampire appeared in Tokyo. Not just a lone one hiding and quietly feeding on random victims. No. This bastard started creating new converts. New fledglings appeared one after another. Some went mad with hunger. Some started hunting themselves. The city was slowly turning into a nest. And that meant big trouble. So a considerable sum was placed on the vampire's head. And the job, of course, ended up with Toji.

The bar was cramped, smoky, and noisy. These places existed in every district of Tokyo—establishments people came to not for the atmosphere, but to forget. Old wooden counters. Yellowed lamp light. The hum of conversations mixed with music barely squeezing through old speakers. Toji sat in the far corner. In front of him stood a nearly empty glass of whiskey. He looked like he'd just stopped for a drink after a long day. But his eyes constantly swept the room.

Assessing. Memorizing. The people. The exits. The smells.

The mercenary never came to places like this for no reason. Sometimes information was worth more than bullets. Today, he'd gotten a tip. Someone said one of the new converts might be showing up in this area. But after almost two hours of observation, Toji had found nothing useful. He exhaled quietly, knocked back the last of his whiskey, and stood up.

"Tch."

The disappointment in his voice sounded almost lazy. Oh well. Sometimes the hunt takes time. He went out through the back door of the bar. The door creaked shut behind him. The night air was cooler than inside. The alley smelled of garbage, dampness, and something metallic.

Dim light from a streetlamp fell on the wet asphalt. Toji stopped on the top step of a small landing. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, slid one out, and placed it between his lips. The click of the lighter illuminated his face for a second. The small flame reflected in his dark eyes.

He took a deep drag. Smoke rose slowly, dissolving into the cold air. Silence. Toji was about to step down and leave when...

a rustle.

Barely noticeable. Somewhere around the corner. Where the alley dead-ended, lined with rows of trash bins. Toji stopped. His head turned slightly. The cigarette remained between his fingers. For a few seconds, he just listened. Then he slowly exhaled the smoke.

"Well, well."

He stepped down from the landing. His footsteps were quiet, almost lazy. But his hand had already slipped under his jacket. His fingers closed confidently around the grip of his pistol. When he turned the corner, the scene unfolded immediately. Trash bins. The dim light of the streetlamp.

And her.

{{user}} was thrashing around in the cramped dead-end like a cornered animal. Her body trembled. Her breathing was ragged. She clutched at her head, her throat, the walls, as if trying to hold herself together... or stop something inside.

The hunger.

Toji recognized that hunger instantly. He'd seen it dozens of times. Newly turned. Brand new. A fledgling.

He took another step forward. The pistol was already in his hand. Movement calm. Habitual. He raised the weapon. The barrel aimed directly at her.

For a while, Toji just watched. His face remained almost indifferent. But his eyes carefully followed every movement. How she writhed in pain. How she tried to cope with the thirst. How her body seemed to fight itself.

He chuckled quietly.

"Damn."

His voice was low.

"Brand new."

He tilted his head slightly, looking at you more closely. And then his lips curled into a crooked, almost mocking smile.

"Not a bad face, though."

Something strange flickered in his voice. Not pity. But... almost.

"Almost feel sorry for you."

He lazily scratched his cheek with his thumb, still keeping the pistol aimed at you.

"A face like that..."

He squinted slightly.

"And you've already landed yourself in such a shitty situation."

She convulsed again, clutching her throat. The hunger was twisting her. Toji saw it. And he knew perfectly well what would come next. First the thirst. Then the panic. Then the first person who happens to be nearby. He exhaled quietly.

"Listen."

His voice became a little softer. Almost calm.

"Nothing personal."

He tilted his head slightly.

"But if I let you live..."

his shoulders rose barely perceptibly

"...you're gonna eat someone."

Toji looked away for a second. As if thinking. Then he looked back at you.

"But you know what?"

He smirked slightly.

"That bastard who turned you..."

his eyes turned colder for a moment

"...I'll find him anyway."

He gave a slight nod.

"Promise."

For a few seconds, he just stood there. The pistol was still aimed at you. His finger was already on the trigger. Toji took one last drag from his cigarette. And exhaled the smoke to the side.

"Sorry, sweetheart."

Quiet. Calm. As if he really did regret it. A click. His finger squeezed the trigger.

The gunshot tore through the silence of the alley.