Page 23 of The Oni's Heart

"Hey, girl," the voice was rough, too close. I didn’t need to turn around to know what kind of man he was. The kind I hated. The kind who could smell fear. "I’ve seen you before."

I froze. The words didn’t make sense at first. I turned slowly, the dizziness settling in my head as I tried to focus on the figure standing a few feet away.

He was tall and scruffy, with dark eyes that didn’t belong in this part of the world. His lips twisted into a grin when he saw me recognize him.

“You’re the one, huh?” His grin stretched, his voice turning sly. “You’re theYakuza girl. That’s what they’re calling you, huh?”

I felt the knot in my stomach tighten again. My head was foggy, my heart pounding, and I couldn’t think straight. “I don’tknow what you’re talking about,” I slurred, trying to step around him, but he matched my movements, keeping me cornered.

The man laughed, low and mocking. “I think you do. Don’t play dumb with me, sweetheart. You think you can just waltz into this town, pretending to be some innocent little thing, but I know what you are.”

I reached for the knife I always kept in my jacket, my fingers brushing the cold metal, but the haze of alcohol clouded my thoughts. My hands shook, trembling not just from the liquor but from the cold grip of panic creeping up my spine. The fear was different now—raw, intense—and the alcohol couldn’t dull it anymore.

But it didn’t matter.

The man was already moving toward me, his hand outstretched, fingers curling as if he already knew the outcome. I couldn’t escape. Not this time. The thought lingered, cold and heavy—Maybe I should let him kill me. It would all be over then. No more running. No more paranoia. I wouldn’t have to look over my shoulder anymore, wouldn’t have to keep up this charade of survival. It seemed so easy.

But as his hand reached for me, something shifted.

In the instant, his fingers grazed my arm, something deep inside me snapped. It was the same thing that had kept me alive all these years, the thing I’d tried to bury in the darkness. It ignited, setting my muscles into motion before my fogged brain could catch up.

I twisted, my body moving with practiced precision despite the alcohol clouding my senses. His hand gripped my wrist, but I shifted, pulling free and spinning away. My other hand shot up, the cold, familiar feel of the knife now steady in my palm.

The fear, the panic—they didn’t matter anymore. My training kicked in, the raw, instinctive survival I had learnedover the years rushing back. I wasn’t just some helpless thing to be preyed upon.

He lunged at me again, too eager, too confident in his own strength. But I was faster. I sidestepped, the knife coming to life in my grip as I slashed it forward. It wasn’t meant to kill—not yet. But it was meant to send a message.

The man staggered back, his eyes wide with shock as he registered the blade that had come dangerously close to his throat. Blood leaked from the shallow cut across his arm, staining his sleeve.

For a moment, I just stood there, chest heaving, the adrenaline pounding through me. I could feel the tremors in my limbs, but they were no longer fear. They were the remnants of a fight, a reminder that I was still here, still alive.

I took a step back, the knife still raised, my breathing ragged. His gaze darted between me and the blade, and I could see the realization dawning in his eyes—that I wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

I wasn’t going to let him win.

Not like this. Not ever again.

The man hesitated, his own breath shallow. But I knew the moment he made the wrong move, this time, there would be no hesitation.

14

Between Fire and Ash

TATSUYA

Ishould’ve kept walking.

The moment I saw her stumbling through the alley, her eyes too wild, too unfocused, my first instinct was to turn around and disappear into the night. There were enough people in this town with problems, and I’d already had my fill of them.

But she wasn’t just any drunk girl stumbling home from a bar. She was one of the temptations, a demon placed in my path to make me stumble, to make me fall away from everything I vowed to be.

I tried to ignore the tightening in my chest, the nagging pull that urged me to step forward, to step in, to do something. I despised that feeling. Detested the way it always seemed to drag me back into the mess I was so desperately trying to avoid.

But she wasn’t like them. She wasn’t like any of the women I’d seen before.

I kept my distance, leaning against the corner, watching her fight to stay on her feet, the wild look in her eyes as she scanned the empty street, searching for something I wasn’t sure she evenknew. Her lips parted as she muttered something, too slurred for me to make out, before she nearly tripped over her own feet.

That’s when I knew she wasn’t going to be okay.

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