A suburb like any other. More grey than usual on this night, rain falling in sheets and blanketing everything in gloom. Most of the residents had retreated to the warmth of their homes, and only those obliged to be outside remained in the rain, heads bent in supplication to the might of the downpour, all hurrying to the next shelter and respite from the rain. Some just accepted they would be soaked to the skin by the time they got where they were going. Murasame Kyuzo was one of these resigned souls, and he was walking along the side of the large park in the centre of this suburb. He was wearing a long black leather coat to fend off the rain (and a pretty good job it was doing) and a hat pulled down over his ears and forehead to ward off at least some of the cold. Anyone who bothered to take a closer look would have seen the wire snaking out of the coat, and the earphones he was wearing. And were it not for the weather the music he was listening to would have been audible to anyone who passed within a few feet of him.

Even through the din of the rain and the harsh metal in his ears he heard the roar, and it stopped him dead in his tracks. After a few seconds he grunted to himself and moved on. "Another one of those bloody masked things. Probably on the other side of the park" he thought to himself. Trying to tune out the screeching the creature was making, he picked up his pace a bit, hoping against hope that one of those guys that wore black would show up soon and shut the thing up. "I've got work to do tomorrow and I don't want to listen to this shit all night" he said to nobody in particular.

He was still huffing when he got home. The creature was still kicking up a racket. Seeing as it was going to be a long night he took a leisurely shower, trying to force some warmth back into his body. He'd heard noise coming from the lounge on his way in, so he wandered back downstairs in some dry clothes. His flatmate was watching tv and working at the same time. "Hey Kyu" was his quick greeting, before his attention was back to the book in front of him. "'Sup Kaz, fancy one?" Kyuzo responded, indicating the cupboard where the whisky lived. "Yeah, sure. Had enough Chaotic Systems for one day" the second youth responded.

Second year university students both of them, Kyuzo in engineering and Nakamura Kazuki (Kaz to his friends, he would genially insist in most situations) in mathematics. Having only been a couple of rooms apart in the student accommodation provided for all first year students, their shared interest in a particular genre of western music had provided a basic common ground when they first met, and they had pretty much been friends ever since.

"So how was the gig?" Kaz queried his flatmate. "Awesome," answered Kyuzo, drinking deeply from the generous scotch he'd poured himself, "Nothing like being aurally assaulted for 3 hours to make an evening." He flexed his shoulders slightly. "I'm gonna be bruised tomorrow". Kaz smirked, "Crowded, eh?" The two continued chatting for a while, discussing the set list (Kyuzo had it perfectly memorised), how good the solos had been, and all the things metalheads talk about when describing concerts to each other.

"Well I've got a shitty test tomorrow, so I'm gonna go sleep." Kaz announced when the gig had been exhaustively analysed, rising and heading for the door. "Sure. Laters." He heard from the couch on his way out. Kyuzo got himself another drink and retreated to his own room. There was no point trying to sleep. He could still hear the thing in the park. He sat on his bed and stared out the window.

For as long as he could remember he'd been able to see the masked creatures, and the black clothed sword-wielding people who killed them and the petrified looking people who wandered round with the chains hanging out of their chests. But he'd soon learned that talking to people about it was stupid, and accepted that they were invisible to the majority of the populace. When the opportunity had risen to go to university in Karakura Town, he'd seized it, hoping to get away from all of it. While he was still a child he would only get woken up in the middle of the night, then go right back to sleep. But now he was used to not sleeping, and even on silent nights he would toss and turn until the early hours of the morning before finally slipping into a restless slumber.

And then came the dreams. Variations on a theme. He always awoke with the feeling of a second "presence" in the dreams. Memory always hazy; a man in a long white coat. Strange markings on his hands, stretching up his arms, but the full extent hidden by the coat. An apparition, exactly the same as the man, but bigger, and completely translucent. Like an outline around the upper half of his body. It always spoke to him, always, and it knew his name. And just when it seemed like it would become audible, Kyuzo would sit bolt upright in his bed, wide awake, with the words on the tip of his tongue but never quite coming out.

He had slowly soured. From childhood naïveté he had developed straight to apathy. Having spent so long forcing his body not to shudder when he heard the nails-on-a-blackboard screech, keeping his body from showing what was going on in his head was simple to him at 16, and at 22 it was like breathing. All his emotions had slowly been eroded by his hatred of this curse, as he considered it, seeing and hearing all these things. Whether they were monsters, ghosts, or something else he didn't know. But he hated them all. He kept it all under control though. Welded down tight in the back of his mind, never visible. Various martial arts clubs, angry music and alcohol, now that he was old enough, helped keep him from exploding. He wanted to know what it felt like, fighting one of those masked creatures, killing it. He'd seen the black clothed people kill them – they seemed to dissolve when the mask was broken. About pretty much everything else in the world, he didn't give a crap.

He finished his drink and picked up his guitar. He glanced at the clock by his bed; 00:30 it read. "No amp then, bit harsh on Kaz". Abruptly the noise from outside got a lot louder. "Finally. They're gonna kill the damn thing." And he was right. A few minutes later the only thing he could hear was the sound of the rain and what few cars were on the street at this time of night. So Kyuzo went to bed.

It must be a dream. This guy is here again. Closer than ever. He's moving toward me. And getting closer. Usually just looks like he's walking on the spot. Mouth is moving.

"Kyuzo…"

More details. Looks like tattoos on his hands. Palm and back. But… they're moving… pulsing… swaying… like leaves in a breeze…and the aura. The face is wrong. Eyes different. Structure different. Too blurry…

"Kyuzo…Can you hear us?"

Both mouths move. Different voices. Same words. What the fuck…

"CAN YOU HEAR US?"

No need to be so loud. Of course I can hear you.

"Say it out loud"

"…I can hear you. What the hell is this?"

"At last you have heard our cry."

"Why are you talking in plurals? What are you?" Great. I'm talking to a part man part apparition. And he's still coming towards me.

"We are Edge. We are yours to command. You have but to call on us."

He's got red eyes. He's holding something, I can't see it.

"Call on you? Pffft, this is a dream. I'm going to forget most of this"

He's on me in a flash. Whatever he was carrying is gone. He's grabbed my hands.

"You will not forget about us. These will remind you"

It hurts. The pain…

Like so many times before, he sat up in bed, eyes wide open and heart beating crazily. It was so vivid this time. And then the pain hit him. It was like his hands were on fire. Like acid eating his skin. He just barely bit back the scream that was rising in his throat, but a growl still managed to escape. He got his hands up in front of his face and through eyes blurred with tears he saw the marks on his hands, palm and back. Through the pain the thought crossed his mind; "They look like his hands" and the word escaped his lips "Edge…" before he blacked out.