The desk lamp cast a circle of yellow light on the wood. Everything outside the circle was shadow. Everything inside was homework.

  Kaito sat in the center. Pen in hand. Notebook open. Calculus. Derivatives. Numbers that mattered for grades but not for survival.

  The apartment was silent. The refrigerator hummed. The city outside muffled by double paned glass.

  The shadow in the corner of the room moved. It detached itself from the wall. It flowed across the floor like spilled ink. It rose up behind the chair.

  Kuro manifested.

  Human form. Lean. Coat of shifting black feathers. Eyes like polished obsidian. He leaned over Kaito's shoulder. His breath smelled like ozone and old books.

  That is incorrect.

  Kaito did not look up. He finished the line. He turned the page.

  Seriously. Look at it. The second step. You skipped a variable. It's sloppy. Embarrassing. If I were a rival entity, I would strike now. While you are distracted by polynomials.

  Kaito underlined the answer. He capped the pen. He picked up the next one.

  Are you listening? I am giving you tactical advice. Life saving information. And you are doing algebra.

  Kuro walked around the desk. He sat on the edge. His boots made no sound. He picked up a pencil. He spun it between his fingers. The wood turned black where he touched it.

  Do you know what I did tonight? While you were here. Warm. Safe. Boring. I patrolled the Grey District. Found three Drifters. One Wanderer. I handled them. Alone. Without a contract. Without permission.

  Kaito opened the textbook. He scanned the next problem.

  You're welcome, by the way. For keeping the city standing. Again. You could say thank you. A simple sentence. Thanks, Kuro. Is that so hard?

  Kaito wrote the date. He wrote the problem number.

  I am talking to a wall. A literal wall. At least walls have texture. You have silence. It is oppressive.

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Kuro leaned forward. He hovered over the notebook. His hair fell forward. It looked like feathers in the low light.

  X equals negative three. You wrote positive. Do you want to fail? Is that the plan? Fail school, become a homeless card dealer, live in the shadows forever? Because I can support that lifestyle. But you need better cards.

  Kaito erased the number. He wrote the negative sign.

  Ah. So you do listen. When I insult you. Noted. I will adjust my teaching methodology accordingly.

  Kuro hopped off the desk. He paced the room. He touched the spine of a book. The leather cracked slightly. He pulled his hand away.

  This place is too clean. No bloodstains. No scorch marks. No evidence of the apocalypse you fight every night. It feels fake. Like a stage set.

  Kaito turned the page. The pen scratched against the paper.

  I remember my first holder. He lived in a cave. Or a ruin. Maybe a bunker. Walls were made of bone. He drank rainwater. He fought gods. You drink tap water. You fight... what is this? Math?

  Kaito stopped. He looked at the entity.

  Important.

  Important. He says important. Grades are important. Survival is important. There is a hierarchy. You are confusing the two.

  Kuro walked to the window. He looked out at the city lights. His reflection did not show in the glass.

  Something moved near the station. Twenty minutes ago. Small. Fast. Probably nothing. But the scent was wrong. Sulfur. Old magic. Not one of ours.

  Kaito's hand tightened on the pen. He set it down. He looked at the window.

  See? Now I have your attention. Stop doing derivatives. Let's go hunt.

  Kaito picked up the pen. He resumed writing.

  Tomorrow.

  Tomorrow it will be gone. Tomorrow it will be someone else's problem. Tonight it is here. Tonight we are awake.

  Sleep.

  Sleep is for mortals. I am a shadow sovereign. I do not sleep. I wait.

  Kuro turned back. He floated back to the desk. He hovered upside down in the air. His hair defied gravity. It hung toward the floor.

  You are stubborn. I respect that. It makes the eventual failure more entertaining.

  Kaito solved the equation. He checked the work. He moved to the next one.

  Give me the pen.

  No.

  Give it. I will solve it. I am centuries old. I have seen empires rise and fall. I can handle high school calculus.

  Slow.

  Excuse me?

  Your handwriting. Slow.

  Kuro gasped. He put a hand on his chest. Dramatic. Overdone.

  My handwriting is elegant. It is calligraphy. It is art. You write like a doctor trying to hide a prescription.

  Kaito finished the page. He closed the notebook. He stacked the books. He put them in the bag.

  Done?

  Done.

  Finally. Freedom. Let us go do something meaningful. Break something. Burn something. Fly.

  Kaito stood up. He stretched. His back cracked. He walked to the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator. He took out a bottle of water.

  Kuro followed. He floated through the closed door. He leaned against the counter.

  Water. Again. You need protein. You need meat. You are wasting away. Look at your arms. Stick figures. How do you expect to wield Atlas if you cannot lift a grocery bag?

  Kaito drank. He swallowed. He set the bottle down.

  Fine.

  Fine what? Fine, I will eat? Or fine, you are right?

  Both.

  Kuro smiled. It was sharp. Too many teeth. For a second. Then it was gone.

  Progress. I am making progress. Soon you will speak in full paragraphs. Soon you will give speeches. Soon the world will tremble at your verbosity.

  Kaito walked back to the bedroom. He turned off the lamp. The room went dark. Only the city light remained.

  He sat on the bed. He took off his jacket. He hung it on the chair. The cards inside glowed faintly in the dark.

  Kuro sat on the ceiling. He looked down. His eyes shone.

  You know. The others talk. Fenrir won't stop howling. Ember tries to cook. She burns everything. Yuki Onna meditates for days. But me? I talk to you. And you ignore me. It is a unique dynamic.

  Kaito lay down. He pulled the blanket up. He closed his eyes.

  Like it.

  Nobody asked.

  Still.

  Kuro was silent for a moment. The shadows in the room settled. The temperature rose slightly.

  I know.

  The voice was softer. Less sarcasm. More truth.

  Kaito did not open his eyes. He listened to the sound of the entity fading. Returning to the card. The Ace of Spades on the chair pulsed once. Blue light. Then dark.

  The room was empty.

  Kaito lay in the dark. He listened to the city. He listened to the silence.

  It was not empty silence. It was shared silence.

  He slept.