The rain fell in heavy sheets, casting a relentless shroud over the dimly lit streets of the neighborhood. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a growling beast that echoed the turmoil of the night. Satoru, an ageless figure lurking within the darkness, felt the stirrings of hunger within him, an ancient and unquenchable thirst that surged with each flash of lightning illuminating the stormy sky. The air smelled of wet asphalt and ozone, with distant streetlights casting sickly yellow halos through the downpour.

He had lived for centuries, his existence defined by shadows and whispers. His predatory instincts honed to perfection, he reveled in the hunt, the thrill of stalking his prey through the veil of night. This particular evening, however, offered something different—a sense of excitement mixed with an almost palpable tension that vibrated in the air. He adjusted the collar of his long coat against the chill, feeling the fabric repel the rain as he moved silently through puddles that barely disturbed the surface.

As he roamed the wet streets, he caught sight of her—a lone figure navigating the slick pavement, swaying slightly as she walked. A spirit unaware of the threat that loomed behind her, she had just left a party where laughter echoed, and spirits soared. The remnants of joy faded with every step she took, and the alcohol that coursed through her veins blurred the edges of her reality. Her dress clung to her damp skin, a silhouette of vulnerability against the storm’s ferocity. The faint sound of her humming a half-remembered song drifted back to him above the rainfall.

With each flash of lightning, Satoru was captivated. He knew he should have simply turned away, allowed the night to continue its grim course without interference, but the sight of her struck a chord deep within him. Her disorientation, her fragility, ignited a hunger that transcended mere thirst. He wanted to taste her fear, to savor the pulse of adrenaline that surged as she navigated the treacherous streets. The scent of her perfume—something floral and sweet—mixed with the rainwater, creating an intoxicating aroma that made his fangs ache.

He fell into step behind her, silent as a wraith. The rain masked his footsteps, allowing him to follow her like a shadow, each movement calculated and deliberate. She stumbled occasionally, oblivious to the predator trailing her, the darkness consuming her in a way she could not comprehend. A gust of wind lifted her hair, revealing the delicate curve of her neck—a perfect canvas for his next move. Satoru's lips curved into a predatory smile unseen beneath the darkness of his hood.

She paused beneath a flickering streetlight, the cold air wrapping around her as she looked up, squinting against the rain. A shiver ran down her spine, but she dismissed it, attributing the chill to the weather rather than an instinctual warning. The street was eerily quiet, a silence so profound it felt almost unnatural. The buzzing of the failing light fixture created a hypnotic rhythm that matched the beating of her heart—steady, unaware of the danger drawing near.

Satoru felt the exhilaration of the chase coursing through him, the thrill intensifying with her every hesitant step. He watched as she resumed her path, the light from the streetlamp flickering behind her like a candle in a storm. He could smell the intoxicating scent of her blood, rich and warm beneath the fabric of her clothing. Each drop of rain that fell seemed to pulse with the rhythm of her heartbeat, a tantalizing reminder of her mortality.