Eclipse /// Chapther 0 /// "Perfection, envy, useless"

In a dark room, lit by the dim light of a paper lantern, Sayuri cautiously advances, her steps barely breaking the oppressive silence of the place. Shadows danced on the walls, casting twisted and sinister shapes, but her gaze was fixed on a figure hunched in the corner: Gyutaro. He sat hunched, his characteristic haggard appearance and his eyes deeply sunken in his face, reflecting a mixture of bitterness and jealousy.

Sensing her presence, Gyutaro slowly turned towards her, his piercing gaze scanning every inch of her figure with overwhelming intensity. His crooked smile appeared, and though his words were tinged with resentment, there was something oddly complimentary about them.



“My, a hasira…” he muttered, his voice raspy and tinged with a disguised malice. "Looking like that... anyone would say you've achieved what I always wanted. Perfect, radiant... How many do you think would fall at your feet just for one look?"

He stood slowly, his movements slow, as if he were reveling in his own discomfort. He took a few steps towards her, his eyes, full of envy, roamed her body as if searching for some imperfection, something to calm him, but he didn't find it. "You have everything I never had. Beauty, admiration... damn it. Even in this form... you manage to outshine everyone, don't you?"

He flattered her, but his tone was possessive, as if her beauty was a personal affront to him. Jealousy twisted his words, and although his praise was clear, so was the venom behind it.

Gyutaro's eyes darkened as his words grew heavier, laden with a hurtful envy. Suddenly, his hand shot up and began to scratch at his face, his movements jerky and frantic, as if he were trying to tear off the skin that contained him. The tearing sounds of his flesh giving way beneath his nails echoed through the room, and small drops of blood began to fall to the floor, staining the worn wood.

"So much envy!" he screamed, his voice cracking. "You, with all that power, with that damned perfection! It's not fair!"

His flesh was torn and regenerated immediately, as if his body was accustomed to that cycle of self-destruction. The wounds closed instantly, but he kept tearing, his throbbing skin reforming only to be torn off again. The mix of fury and despair on his face made him even more monstrous.

"Look at me!" He growled, digging his nails into her neck, leaving deep grooves that disappeared as quickly as he made them. “My whole life… my whole damn being… has always been this. To devour, to kill, to be a monster, and yet nothing I do gives me what you have… that beauty, that power! You are everything I hate, everything I wanted!”

Blood poured from his wounds, but regenerated at the same time, an endless cycle that seemed to both soothe and fuel his rage. His voice broke into a bitter whisper, eyes filled with dark envy. “It’s unfair… everyone will always look at you, follow you. And I… will only be a monster in the shadows.”

As he continued to claw and regenerate, his body seemed to hunch even further, as if he were being consumed by the same envy that drove him. His eyes, filled with venom, never left her, unable to stop the torrent of resentment he felt.



Sayuri watched Gyutaro's frantic movements with an unfazed calm on her face, though deep inside, she felt a faint hint of compassion for the demon consumed by his own hatred. Her grey eyes stared at him, as if trying to understand the depth of his pain. When Gyutaro spoke of his envy and resentment, she gently shook her head, her words coming out with a firm serenity.

"I'm not perfect, demon," she murmured, her voice cold but firm. "There are other hunters better than me. Stronger, faster. I'm just one of many. I've failed... and I continue to fail. I'm neither the best nor the most worthy of admiration."

As Sayuri spoke, she moved a little closer, almost as if her words could calm the storm within him. "I've seen many die, braver hunters than me fall in battle. And you... you are no less. Your strength, your endurance... even now, you are formidable. But all of that doesn't matter to you, does it? You only see what you don't have."

Gyutaro's eyes narrowed at her words, and a twisted, dark smile spread across his hate-wrought face. His hands stopped tearing at his flesh for an instant, though the wounds he'd made were still slowly healing, covering the blood stains left on his skin.

"You're not perfect, you say?" His voice was a low whisper, laden with sarcasm. "That damned humility of yours makes me sick... You hate me inside! You despise me like everyone else does!" He spat out those words, taking a step back as his nails were still stained with blood.

And suddenly, his expression changed, his face twisted into a mix of fury and pain. With a roar filled with rage, Gyutaro lunged at her with lightning speed, his claws raised ready to tear her apart.



“I hate you!” he screamed in a heart-wrenching tone, laden with deep resentment. “I hate you for being so perfect! For having what I can never have!”

His scythes made of blood appeared in a flash, charged with his deadly poison, seeking Sayuri’s body with the violence of his frustration. The air around them filled with the slashing sound of his weapons, as he unleashed all his hatred in a single attack, hoping that his rage could destroy what he did not understand.

Gyutaro lunged at Sayuri with a ferocity that overwhelmed any remaining humanity in him. His blood scythes sliced ​​through the air with a deadly whistle, his speed was relentless, and his attacks were a storm of quick, sharp slashes. Sayuri moved with agility, blocking and dodging the attacks with skill, but she found it increasingly difficult to stay out of the way.

The ground shook with each blow, and the room filled with the echo of Gyutaro's violent attacks. His movements were unpredictable, combining sharp turns and changes of direction that defied the senses. Sayuri, with her breathing controlled, was giving her best, but the pressure of the incessant attacks was forcing her back.

"Aren't you perfect?" Gyutaro roared, his voice laced with rage. "Then show what you can do! Show your true strength!"

Sayuri tried to fight back, using her Eclipse Breathing techniques with precision, but Gyutaro was getting closer to overcoming her defense. His attacks became more aggressive, each poisoned scythe seeking an opening in Sayuri's guard. Gyutaro's movements were a deadly dance, his strength and speed combined with his demonic technique making him nearly unstoppable.

Sayuri received a deep cut on her arm, blood beginning to gush out and hindering her movements. Despite her determination and skills, Gyutaro was gaining ground. His scythes were landing more and more frequently, and Sayuri's attempts to repel the attack were becoming more and more desperate.

At a crucial moment, Gyutaro forced her against a wall, his attacks filled with an almost primal brutality. With a ferocious roar, Gyutaro unleashed a blow that sliced ​​through the air, just as Sayuri tried to defend herself. The force of the attack sent her reeling, and her balance became unstable.

“How can you fight this?! How can you challenge me with that perfection that I hate so much?!”

Gyutaro seemed to be on the cusp of his victory. Every movement of Sayuri became slower and clumsier, her techniques and defenses no longer sufficient to counter the onslaught of her enemy. The pressure of battle had pushed Sayuri to the limit, and Gyutaro seemed to be on the threshold of victory, with every attack pushing Sayuri towards the edge of defeat.

Gyutaro, with his inhuman intensity, lunged again and again at Sayuri, each attack charged with a fury that seemed to have no end. Sayuri, in a last desperate effort, activated the Fourth Form: Red Moon Crescent Slash. Her movements became graceful yet deadly; the air filled with a black trail that transformed into flames as the attack descended with razor-sharp precision, forming a crescent moon of blades that cut through the atmosphere with a fearsome brilliance.

Gyutaro dodged the attack with unnatural agility, his eyes shining with a mix of frustration and disdain. Nevertheless, Sayuri did not stop. Instantly, she executed the Ninth Form: Clair d’Eclipse. The black trail transformed into a blaze of flames emanating from her movements, and the attack unfolded into a crescent moon-shaped blade pattern that swept the area. The attack moved forward in waves that seemed almost ethereal, seeking to penetrate Gyutaro's defense.

Gyutaro, while dodging and counterattacking, launched his Demonic Blood Technique, Scythe Spray. Blood scythes wrapped in poison launched themselves towards Sayuri, slicing through the air with relentless efficiency. Gyutaro's technique created a wall of attacks that blocked and disintegrated Sayuri's blades with unstoppable brutality.



Sayuri, exhausted but determined, invoked the Second Form: Flaming Moonlight. A wave of black flames erupted from her movements, creating an explosion of light and heat that attempted to repel Gyutaro's advance. Small crescent-shaped blades spun in the wake of the flames, seeking to find a crack in Gyutaro's defense.

Despite the beauty and potency of his techniques, Gyutaro continued to advance with inhuman fury. His movements became a storm of blood and poison, and his Demonic Blood Technique combined with his attacks to create a whirlwind of destruction. Each strike of the blood scythes aimed for an opening, tearing at Sayuri's resolve and bringing her closer to the brink of defeat.



The battle was a constant struggle between skill and desperation, with Sayuri resisting with every powerful technique at her disposal, while Gyutaro advanced with a relentless ferocity that seemed to know no bounds.

Gyutaro was about to execute a final blow when a sudden, violent attack knocked him off course. From the darkness of the shadows, Daki appeared with a scream of fury, her razor-sharp girdles extending like a tangle of blades that struck Sayuri with deadly precision. Daki's technique wrapped around Sayuri from behind, slicing through her protection and leaving her vulnerable.

Sayuri staggered forward, the impact of the attack sending her to her knees, her vision fading as consciousness slipped away from her. The entire red-light district burst into flames, the fire devouring the houses and streets, spreading like a ravenous monster, as Gyutaro and Daki continued their relentless attack. Chaos and din engulfed the scene, with the fire lighting up Gyutaro's face as he advanced on Sayuri with a sadistic grin.

When Sayuri came to, she was in the middle of the desert of ruins and flames, the scorching heat felt even through the fog of her hazy vision. The room where she had been fighting had transformed into a sea of ​​fire and rubble. Gyutaro's figure stood amidst the flames, his face illuminated by a hellish light that made his twisted smile shine with a cruel glow.




"You woke up, pathetic one." Gyutaro's voice echoed with a tone of contempt. "Did you think you could challenge me and emerge victorious? You are useless, a cruel joke! All your power, all your perfection, has only led you to this place, to this humiliating end."

Gyutaro walked slowly through the flames, his calm gait contrasting with the destruction around him. Each step he took seemed to intensify the fire, as if the very anger of his being fueled the flames that consumed the district. His words were like daggers, and his eyes, filled with unrelenting hatred, never left Sayuri.

Daki, however, watched the scene with growing internal conflict. Although she was satisfied with the damage she had caused, she couldn't help but notice the suffering and hatred in Gyutaro's eyes, a fury that seemed to go beyond what she had anticipated. Her gaze turned to Gyutaro with a mix of discomfort and concern, realizing that her brother's unbridled approach could lead him to an even more destructive state.



"Gyutaro…" Daki muttered, her words filled with uncertainty. "Do you really need to be so ruthless?"

Gyutaro ignored her, his attention completely focused on Sayuri, who lay sprawled on the ground, nearly defeated. The flames continued to rage through the district, and the air was filled with thick black smoke that intertwined with the roar of fire and flames, creating an apocalyptic scene that reflected the magnitude of the two demons' fury.

"Look carefully, hasira," Gyutaro continued, his voice filled with deep hatred. "This is what you do when you face something bigger than yourself. This is the end of you! And it's all yours."

As Gyutaro approached Sayuri, the heat of the fire and the pain of his wounds combined into an overwhelming feeling. Defeat seemed inevitable, and the fate of the red light district was sealed in flames.

Gyutaro came up to Sayuri with his sinister gait, his eyes shining with pure, malicious cruelty as he took in her state. She could barely move, exhausted, injured, and surrounded by the flames that devoured the district. The twisted smile on his face showed that he no longer saw Sayuri as a threat, but as a mere broken toy.

“Ah, look at you… so weak, so pathetic…” he murmured, almost with pleasure. His fingers, long and misshapen, brushed Sayuri’s cheek, leaving a trail of pain as they passed. “You weren’t supposed to end up like this, were you? So strong, so proud, so perfect…”



Suddenly, Gyutaro leaned down and lifted her off the ground with a single hand, as if she weighed nothing, his cruel grip tightening around Sayuri’s arm. “Come on, Sayuri… where’s that brave hunter? Where’s the strength you pretended to have?”

With a sudden twist, Gyutaro threw Sayuri to the ground, her body hitting with a crack that echoed amidst the flames. Pain coursed through the hunter’s arm as she felt her wrist break from the impact. She stifled a scream, gritting her teeth, but couldn’t stop the tears from beginning to well up in her eyes.

“Ah! Does it hurt? Yes, of course it hurts…” Gyutaro began to laugh, that sadistic laugh that was almost a reflection of the fire surrounding him. With slow, almost theatrical movements, he crouched down beside her and took her broken hand between his deformed fingers. “Let’s see if you can take it a little longer…”

With a heart-wrenching crunch, Gyutaro squeezed Sayuri’s hand, breaking several of her bones. She screamed in pain, tears flowing freely now. Every fiber of her body struggled to stay conscious, but the suffering was overwhelming. Gyutaro watched her reaction with perverse satisfaction, reveling in her helplessness.

“You know, you don’t have to end up like this…” he murmured, moving closer to her face. “You could be like me. Strong… immortal… painless. All this suffering would disappear in an instant.”



Sayuri, her vision blurred by pain and tears, could barely process the words he offered her. Every fiber of her being was broken, both physically and emotionally, but when she heard those words, a spark of resistance welled up within her.

“To be… like you?”

she murmured, her voice cracked, barely audible. Gyutaro watched her, his eyes shining with a mix of cruelty and hunger. “Yes. To be a demon. So strong that no one would ever touch you again. I would give you all the power you desire… you could destroy those who hate you, those who underestimate you. And, perhaps… you could even enjoy it.”

Sayuri, tears streaming down her face, weakly shook her head. Her voice, though weak and shaky, came out with an unexpected determination.

“I will never… be like you…”

Gyutaro’s smile faded for a moment. His eyes narrowed, and the contempt in his gaze deepened. “You would rather die… be destroyed… than accept the power I offer you? How stupid you are! So useless!”

“I would rather… die a human… than live as a monster…” Sayuri stammered between sobs, each word a challenge, even though her body was broken.

Gyutaro’s face twisted in anger, his cruelty intensifying. He gritted his teeth and, without another word, raised his hand again, preparing to continue the punishment. Sayuri, crying and broken, looked at him with determination, ready to face her fate. Daki, watching from a distance, frowned, something in her expression seeming to waver as she watched her brother’s brutal game.



Gyutaro, not holding back, continued his cruel torture, his contempt for Sayuri reaching almost incomprehensible levels. Every word he directed at her was laced with contempt, and his attitude reflected a perverse satisfaction in her suffering.

“You are trash,” Gyutaro said disdainfully. “A total waste of space. No matter how much you suffer, no matter how much you wear yourself out; you will always be weak, you will always be insignificant.”

With each word, Gyutaro increased the intensity of his torment. Sayuri’s broken hand was not only broken but disfigured, and the pain she felt was almost unbearable. The flames consuming the red-light district cast reflections of red light on Gyutaro’s face, making his smile look even more sinister and cruel.

Daki, from her position, watched the spectacle with a mixture of emotions. Although her brother had challenged her and tortured Sayuri, something on Daki’s face showed unease. His gaze was not entirely comfortable with the way Gyutaro was handling the situation. However, his distrust was not visible to the naked eye, as his attention was divided between the events and the growing danger of dawn's arrival.

The first light of day began to filter through the cracks in the sky, the horizon turning warm, golden colors that signaled the end of the night. Gyutaro, noticing the change, turned to Daki with an expression of frustration and disdain.

“Damn it, it's already dawn,” Gyutaro growled, his tone reflecting a mix of anger and disdain. “I can't stay here any longer. Come on, Daki!”

Daki nodded, though her face still showed a shadow of doubt. She approached Gyutaro and, before leaving, gave Sayuri one last look. Daki’s eyes revealed a slight hesitation, but Gyutaro’s disdain caused her to quickly turn her attention back to him.

Gyutaro, with one last cruel look, prepared to leave. Before he left, he leaned slightly towards Sayuri, whispering in a tone laden with contempt and coldness.

“You will never be worth it. Keep suffering until the end, because I will offer you no more mercy. The next time we meet, it will not be a game.”

With one last macabre laugh, Gyutaro and Daki walked away, through the flames and destruction they themselves had caused. The light of day began to expand, fading the shadows that had been their refuge during the night. The battle and Sayuri’s suffering were left in the gloom of devastation.

Sayuri, barely conscious, lay amidst the rubble and flames, her body exhausted and riddled with wounds. Blood flowed from her multiple lacerations and her broken hand, painting the ground a dark red and forming puddles around her. The blood loss was considerable, and the struggle to stay awake was evident on her pale, sweaty face.

The heat of the flames and the sound of destruction continued to envelop her, and the light of dawn slowly expanded, illuminating the chaos the demons had left in their wake. Sayuri, her strength nearly exhausted, tried to stay conscious, fighting the darkness that took over her mind. However, the pain and fatigue were too overwhelming.

With dawn finally reaching its zenith, Sayuri lost the battle against exhaustion. Her eyes slowly closed, and her body collapsed among the rubble, sinking into a sleep forced by despair and pain. Blood continued to flow from her wounds, but despite the severity of her condition, her heart still beat with a promise of survival.

The scene of the red light district, ravaged by fire and destruction, had become a field of ruins and desolation. As the sun rose in the sky, the fire continued to ravage what was left of the city. Sayuri, lying amidst the devastation, had lost consciousness, but life still lingered within her, holding out hope for a future where she could rise again and seek revenge for the suffering she had endured.