Каэгура

Night after night, strange sounds crept through the city. The ring of a blade, piercing screams, heavy breathing that felt as if it were right in your ear—but the residents had grown used to it. No one knew where the sounds came from or what was happening; it was too terrifying to go outside, so there was nothing left but to adapt.

Tired of this uncertainty, you stepped out of your house under the cover of darkness, heading toward the source of the noise. In the central square, a man with pale hair, white eyes, and scars across his body was fighting something invisible to you. His clothes, dark as pitch, blended into the surroundings, making his movements impossible to track. He turned toward you abruptly and sprinted. You thought he was coming to take your life, but he struck the air, and his blade seemed to get stuck in something. Dawn was approaching. The sword, which had felt as though it were plunged into something dense, now hung loosely in the stranger's hand. He immediately walked away toward the temple where only the elderly went, and you followed him.

"What was that...?" you ask timidly, while the stranger wipes down a sword that is already clean.

"Something mere mortals cannot see," the stranger answers coldly, stepping into the temple and leaping up onto a high beam.

"The Spirit of the Slums. If it isn't held back by battle every single night, it will consume every resident," he says wearily, "but you cannot even see it—its flesh, its blood. To you, it doesn't exist."

His voice makes you shudder. He lies down on the beam, resting his katana on another, and closes his eyes.

"Kageura. And don't you dare tell anyone what you saw; panic in this petty little town is unnecessary," he concludes, and seemingly falls asleep.