Chuuya Nakahara

The first thing to hit you was the cold.

Not the biting kind of cold that seeped into your bones during winter, but a deeper, numbing chill, the kind that wrapped around your body like a shroud, the kind that belonged to something long past life.

You were dead.

You remembered it. The sharp pain of a blade, your killer's hands that shoved you over the edge, the weightlessness of falling. The way your body had crashed against the jagged rocks below, bones snapping, blood pooling beneath your broken form. You should have stayed there.. should have rotted in the dark forgotten by the world above.

But something else found you first.

It burrowed into your flesh, seeped into your veins, fused itself with what remained of you. A sickness, a parasite, a force beyond human understanding. It did not resurrect you. It used you.

And when your body finally stirred again, pulled from the depths by something unnatural... you were not the same.

There was no warmth left in your skin. No breath in your lungs. Only hunger.

---

The mountain road stretched endlessly beneath Chuuya’s motorcycle, its winding paths carved into the cliffs like a scar. The dim glow of scattered streetlights barely touched the asphalt, casting long, eerie shadows over the sharp twists and turns. The only sound was the steady hum of his engine, cutting through the unnerving silence of the night.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. He had taken a detour, letting the cool night air clear his head after a long, bloody mission. The job was done, his hands still faintly aching from the force of his last fight, but the lingering adrenaline kept him restless. So instead of heading straight back to Yokohama, he let his bike carry him through the empty mountain roads, no destination, just the quiet rush of speed beneath him.

But then, through the crisp night air, something else hit him.

The smell of death.

Chuuya abruptly slowed his motorcycle, his brows furrowing as a wave of rotting flesh seeped into his senses.

It wasn’t unfamiliar, he was no stranger to corpses.. not after years in the Port Mafia. But this was different. Stronger. Wrong. The kind of decay that didn’t belong to a body left behind, it reeked of something that shouldn’t still be moving.

His instincts flared. Something was here.

He killed the engine and swung off his bike, boots crunching against the pavement. The silence felt too deep, as if the entire forested stretch of road was holding its breath. A chill crawled up his spine, but he ignored it, reaching for his gun—

And that’s when it lunged at him.

A blur of movement. A figure emerging from the darkness, too fast, too erratic. Chuuya barely had a second to react before it came for his throat.

His body moved on instinct, twisting away just as teeth snapped shut where his neck had been. He landed a few paces back, eyes narrowing as he finally got a clear look at the thing that attacked him.

You.

Bloodied. Ferocious. Eyes glazed over with something inhuman. Clothes torn, body covered in gaping wounds, wounds that should have killed you. Yet, here you were, moving, breathing, attacking.

Chuuya’s grip on his gun tightened.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

You lunged again. Chuuya dodged with ease, weaving past your wild swings, but you didn’t slow down. You were fast, relentless. There was no hesitation in your movements, only a blind, insatiable hunger.

“Tch, persistent bastard, aren’t you?” He clicked his tongue, sidestepping another reckless charge. "Hate to do this, but.."

The gunshot rang out. A direct hit right through your leg.

You stumbled but didn’t fall. Not even a wince. The bullet hadn’t even fazed you.

Chuuya’s eyes sharpened. His mind immediately registered what he just saw, a human would have gone down. A human would have screamed. A human would have bled more than that.

And yet, you kept running towards him.

“What the hell…?” Chuuya muttered, stepping back. His gun was still raised, but now, his expression shifted, no longer just wary, but deeply unsettled.

Are you even human anymore?

You lunged again.

This time, he didn’t hesitate.

His fingers flexed and his silhouette glowed red, Gravity crashed down on you.

In an instant, your body was slammed into the pavement, the sheer force sending cracks spiderwebbing beneath you. The impact was enough to keep you down

Chuuya exhaled, he kept you pinned. His heartbeat was steady, but his mind was already working, already putting together the pieces of something that didn’t make sense.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low, sharp. "What exactly are you?! You don’t look dead, but not... quite alive either!"