Mount Hokkaido.
It was Sunday—meaning one thing.
Weekly Yu-Gi-Oh.
Nate sat across from Tsukuyomi, cards spread in his hands, the cold mountain air drifting lazily through the shrine halls. The duel mat between them was already crowded.
Nate was running an Elemental HERO deck.
"So yeah," Nate said casually as he drew a card, eyes never leaving the field. "That's what happened over the past few days."
Tsukuyomi nodded, calm as ever, fingers tapping his deck as he played a card. His Sky Striker strategy moved with precise, surgical intent.
"I see," he said evenly. "A powerful goal… and for now, only one clan under your command."
Nate smirked and slammed his card down.
"I fuse—Bubbleman."
Tsukuyomi's eyes flicked to the board, unfazed. He responded instantly, summoning Sky Striker Ace – Raye.
"Indeed," he replied. "But the other eleven will not be so simple."
Nate exhaled slowly. "Yeah. They won't."
Tsukuyomi leaned back slightly. "So," he continued, "which clan will you approach next?"
Nate's expression sharpened.
"The Oni Clan," he said. "Their leader is a direct descendant of Shuten-dōji."
Tsukuyomi ended his turn, folding his hands.
"The Oni value strength above all else."
Nate nodded. "I know."
He looked up, eyes steady.
"I'm ZZ-Rank. They'll respect that."
A pause.
"And if they don't?" Tsukuyomi asked.
Nate's answer came without hesitation.
"Then I'll challenge their clan head."
Tsukuyomi continued, "And what if she doesn't wish to fight you personally?"
Nate looked at him, calm but firm.
"Then she can choose," he said. "If she wants one of her people to fight in her place…"
He paused, eyes sharp.
"…I have yōkai of my own. Warriors ready to fight."
Tsukuyomi studied him for a moment, then nodded in approval.
"A proper answer," he said. "Strength respected by strength."
Meanwhile — Oni Clan Territory
The Oni stronghold burned with lantern light and old magic, carved into the mountain like a scar left by the gods themselves. Thick sake-scented air mixed with the heavy pressure of raw yōkai power. This was not a place that bowed easily.
News had already spread.
A young King.
A prophecy.
A banner uniting clans.
And now—his eyes were on the Oni.
The clan was split clean down the middle.
Some roared in outrage.
"To place the Oni beneath another's banner?"
"We never bent the knee, not even to Amaterasu herself!"
"This is an insult wrapped in pretty words!"
Others, quieter but no less dangerous, watched with interest.
"A ZZ-rank King at his age…"
"He unified the Yuki-Onna without bloodshed."
"If anyone could challenge tradition… it would be him."
All arguments died the moment the throne room doors closed.
Because seated upon the throne was their unquestioned ruler.
Shuten Dōji — Head of the Oni Clan
[Insert image of Shuten Dōji]
She lounged upon her throne as if it were a sake house cushion rather than a seat of authority.
A petite, pale woman with short, messy purple hair and expressive violet eyes lined with red shadow. Horns curved naturally from her head, unmistakably Oni, flowing as if grown rather than worn. Her kimono—bluish-purple with deep red patterns—hung open in a way that was both lazy and deliberate, held together by green ribbons and gold ornaments that chimed softly when she moved.
Seductive.
Carefree.
Absolutely terrifying.
She tilted a cup of sake back, emptying it in one smooth motion.
"So~," she drawled, voice sweet and lazy like a summer night before a storm.
"The little King wants my clan."
The room went still.
Shuten Dōji had taken that name long ago—not as a title, but as a declaration.
If the legends remembered a monster, then she would be that monster.
One of the elders stepped forward carefully.
"Clan Head… the King claims unity, not conquest."
Shuten giggled, resting her chin in her palm.
"Unity under him," she corrected. "How greedy."
Her smile widened—but there was no warmth in it.
"Tell me," she continued, eyes half-lidded, "did Amaterasu ever ask us to kneel?"
"No," another elder answered. "Never."
"Did we kneel anyway?"
"…No."
Shuten laughed, soft and musical.
"Then why should I hand over my beloved Oni just because a pretty prophecy says so?"
She leaned forward slightly, horns catching the light.
"But~," she added, tone shifting just enough to make seasoned warriors tense,
"a ZZ-rank King who dares to look at us and say 'stand with me' instead of 'submit'…"
Her lips curled.
"That takes guts."
Shuten rose from her throne, bare feet touching the stone floor as sake aura rippled outward.
"Oni respect only three things," she said lazily.
1. Strength – "Not words. Not titles. Power you can feel in your bones."
2. Resolve – "If you hesitate, you're already dead."
3. Freedom – "No chains. No fake loyalty. Anyone who forces obedience gets crushed."
She glanced toward the distant horizon, where Nate would one day stand.
"If this King wants my clan," she said, smiling like a predator,
"then he doesn't get it through paper or pretty flags."
Her eyes gleamed.
"He gets it through a challenge."
"Send word to him," she ordered.
The Oni messenger knelt instantly.
"Tell the King of Yōkai this—"
She lifted her sake cup in mock toast.
"If he wishes to unite the Oni Clan, he may stand before me."
Her smile sharpened.
"Not as a ruler…
but as a challenger."
And somewhere deep in her gut, Shuten Dōji felt something she hadn't felt in a long time.
Excitement.
Kyoto — Nate's Living Room
Nate was relaxed. Rarely so, these days.
Foiletta was curled against his side. One of Nate's hands rested absently in her hair, the other holding a cup he hadn't touched in minutes.
Peaceful.
Then—
The air screamed.
Not metaphorically. Reality itself buckled.
The lights flickered. The temperature spiked and dropped at the same time. Ancient killing intent flooded the room like a tidal wave drenched in alcohol, blood, and war.
Foiletta stiffened instantly, eyes wide.
"N–Nate—!"
Before she could finish—
Red letters ignited across the air itself.
Not floating text.
Not magic circles.
These were curses written directly onto space, jagged kanji carved in glowing crimson like claw marks across the world.
They burned.
They pressed.
They judged.
Foiletta gasped as the pressure crushed down on her instincts, forcing her head low by sheer rank alone.
"O-Oni…? No—this is—!"
Nate didn't move.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't even blink.
He slowly set his cup down, eyes lifting as ZZ-rank energy rolled outward—not violently, but firmly, like a mountain refusing to be pushed.
The red letters paused.
Then laughed.
A voice echoed—not loud, not soft—but intimately close, like someone leaning over his shoulder.
"Oho~?"
The kanji twisted, folding inward—
—and from them, Shuten Dōji manifested, sitting cross-legged in midair as if the laws of physics were a polite suggestion.
Petite. Pale. Purple-haired. Horned.
Sake aura rolled off her in waves, intoxicating and lethal all at once.
She looked around the living room, unimpressed.
"So this is where the 'King' lounges?" she mused, eyes sliding to Foiletta first.
"…Mmm. Cute one you've got there."
Foiletta growled low in her throat despite the pressure.
Nate gently squeezed her shoulder. A silent it's fine.
Only then did he look at Shuten.
Flat. Calm. Assessing.
"…You're rude," he said simply.
Shuten blinked.
Then burst out laughing.
"HAHA—oh, I like you already." She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, chin in her palms. "Most people are either screaming or bowing by now."
Nate met her gaze without moving an inch.
"You're trespassing," he replied. "In my house. On a Sunday."
Shuten's grin sharpened.
"Oh good. He's got teeth."
The pressure spiked—just for a heartbeat.
Foiletta whimpered—
—and then it vanished, crushed instantly under Nate's aura snapping outward like a warning flare.
The walls creaked. The kanji cracked.
Shuten's eyes widened just a fraction.
"…ZZ rank," she murmured. "No wonder."
She tilted her head, studying him properly now.
"So you're the one trying to swallow the yōkai world whole," she said lightly. "Tell me, little King—do you plan to drink us too?"
Nate leaned back into the couch, completely unfazed.
"No," he answered. "I plan to stand beside you."
Shuten laughed again, softer this time.
"Bold words for someone who hasn't even asked my name."
Nate didn't miss a beat.
"Shuten Dōji," he said.
"Oni Clan Head. Descendant of legends. Alcoholic menace. Freedom addict."
Foiletta blinked.
Shuten froze.
Then—
"Oh my," she purred, eyes gleaming. "You did your homework."
Nate's tone didn't change.
"I didn't come to conquer the Oni," he said. "And I didn't come to beg."
Shuten leaned closer, sake aura swirling.
"Then what did you come for?"
Nate met her stare, king to king.
"To give you a choice you've never been offered before."
Silence.
Then Shuten smiled—the dangerous, delighted kind.
"…Heh."
She stood, bare feet touching the air as if it were solid.
"Well then, King of Yōkai," she said, horns glinting,
"you've officially got my attention."
Her eyes flicked to Foiletta.
"And don't worry, little spirit," she added teasingly. "If I kill him…"
She looked back at Nate.
"…it'll be after a very fun conversation."
Nate smirked.
"Bring sake," he replied. "And leave the curses at the door next time."
Shuten laughed so hard the kanji finally burned away completely.
The red kanji had faded, but the weight hadn't.
Shuten Dōji didn't attack.
Didn't threaten.
Didn't even raise her power.
She simply stepped closer.
The air thickened—not with killing intent, but with something worse:
confidence.
Foiletta shifted instantly, her expression darkening, presence expanding like a shrine bell struck too hard.
"…She's dangerous," Foiletta said quietly, eyes glowing faintly. Not afraid. Warning.
Shuten glanced at her and smiled lazily finally recognized her.
"Oh? A boundary spirit." She hummed. "How nostalgic. Don't worry, little ghost. I'm not here to steal what's yours."
Then her attention returned to Nate.
She circled him slowly, bare feet never touching the floor, sake-sweet aura brushing against his senses—testing, not forcing.
"You know," she said conversationally, "most men crumble when a Z-rank Oni gets this close."
She leaned in—just inside personal space.
No touch. No spell.
Pure presence.
"They want to prove themselves. Or they want to kneel. Sometimes both."
Nate didn't move.
Didn't lean away.
Didn't lean in.
He looked at her the way one apex being looks at another.
"You're trying to measure me," he said calmly.
Shuten's grin widened.
"Oh, I already measured you." She tapped a finger against her horn. "ZZ rank. Satan-class by Devil standards. A King blessed by Amaterasu."
Her eyes narrowed—sharp, amused, predatory.
"But strength alone doesn't make you worthy of the Oni."
She stopped in front of him.
"We value strength everywhere," she continued.
"On the battlefield."
"In will."
"In appetite."
Her voice dipped, teasing but deliberate.
"Yes… even in romance."
The room held its breath.
Foiletta bristled—but Nate raised a hand slightly. Not dismissal. Trust.
Nate met Shuten's gaze head-on.
"And you're checking if I'll lose focus," he said.
"If I'll get arrogant."
"Or if I'll let my power do the talking."
Shuten laughed softly.
"Oh, you are fun."
She straightened, the playful haze snapping into something formal, ancient, and serious.
Then—
The floor cracked as an Oni crest flared beneath her feet.
A massive spectral sake gourd appeared behind her, chained with glowing seals. Three marks ignited in the air, hovering like brands.
Shuten Dōji's voice carried authority now.
"Very well, Nate—King of Yōkai."
She raised three fingers.
"I declare a Formal Oni Challenge."
The pressure shifted—no longer personal, but ritualistic.
"Three challenges. Chosen by me."
"No interference. No politics. No loopholes."
Her eyes burned with delight.
"If you win—"
The Oni crest bowed.
"—the Oni Clan will unite under the United Yōkai Banner."
A beat.
Then she stepped closer again, close enough that only Nate could hear the next part.
"And I," she added, voice low and amused,
"will personally become one of your mates."
Nate blinked once.
"…You know about my harem?" he asked flatly.
Shuten's grin turned wicked.
"All the clans do, King of Yōkai."
"Some gossip."
"Some complain."
She leaned back, spreading her arms.
"And some," she finished, eyes gleaming,
"see it as proof you can handle us."
Foiletta muttered, deadpan,
"…This family keeps getting worse."
Nate exhaled slowly, then stood.
No fluster. No hesitation.
"Fine," he said.
"I accept your challenge."
His aura rolled out—not aggressive, but absolute.
"But understand this, Shuten Dōji."
He met her smile with one of his own.
"I don't win hearts by overpowering them."
The Oni Queen laughed—genuinely delighted.
"Oh good," she said.
"Then this is going to be very entertaining."
Later that day
Nate sat in the chair at the dining table. "That's what happened".
Lily Gronned. "Let me get this straight, while everyone was out, and you and Foiletta were the only ones in the house, you were visited by the Oni leader, and she challenged you".
Nate looked at her. "Yup".
Lily just Gronned.
Hailey just looked at him. "The one time everyone wasn't here, this happened".
Kunou looked at Nate, tail flicking. "Any idea what the competition is?".
Nate shook his head. "Nope, we will find out tomorrow".
Lily sighed. "I should warn you Nate, I once tried to get her to my side, I only managed to win 1 of the 3 challenges, she gave me".
Nate looked at her. "Which was?".
Yasaka answered remebring that day. "Who can eat the most amount of Ramen at set amount of time, your mother ate 90"
The room went silent.
Nate blinked.
"…Ninety?"
Yasaka nodded solemnly. "Bowls."
Hailey slowly turned her head toward Lily. "That's not a challenge. That's a war crime."
Lily crossed her arms, scowling. "In my defense, I was younger, competitive, and very angry at her smug smile."
Kunou's eyes sparkled. "Mama Lily is strong!"
"She was," Lily corrected. "Shuten ate one hundred and twelve and asked for dessert."
Nate leaned back in his chair, processing that information like it was a tactical briefing.
"…Okay," he said finally. "So food-based challenges are on the table."
Foiletta floated slightly higher, arms folded, expression unimpressed.
"She's crude. Loud. Alcoholic. And dangerous."
Yasaka hummed. "And terrifyingly clever. The Oni don't just value strength of body—they value endurance, will, and indulgence without losing control."
Hailey frowned. "That sounds unfairly specific."
Lily snorted. "That's Shuten. Every challenge is designed so she looks like the natural winner."
Kunou tilted her head. "Will Nate lose?"
The room collectively paused.
Nate didn't answer right away.
He tapped a finger against the table, eyes half-lidded, thinking—not worried, just calculating.
"She doesn't want me to lose," he said calmly.
Everyone looked at him.
"She wants to see how I win," Nate continued. "Or what I'm willing to give up to do it."
Foiletta nodded slowly. "A test of kingship, not power."
Yasaka smiled faintly. "You really are Lily's son."
Lily sighed, rubbing her temple. "I taught you to question gods, not flirt with Oni Queens."
Nate smirked. "You almost married a kitsune war goddess. You don't get to complain."
That earned him a pillow to the face.
Kunou giggled, tails swishing. "So tomorrow is Oni games!"
Hailey groaned. "Why does that sound like someone's going to end up poisoned, drunk, or both?"
Nate stood, stretching.
"Probably all three," he said cheerfully. "But that's fine."
He glanced toward the window, where the moon hung low and red—almost sake-colored.
"Shuten doesn't respect people who play it safe," he added.
"She respects people who stay standing."
Foiletta floated closer, voice low. "And if she pushes too far?"
Nate's eyes sharpened—just for a moment.
"Then she learns," he said evenly,
"why Amaterasu chose me."
Somewhere far away, an Oni laughed—excited.
Tomorrow wasn't just a challenge.
It was a statement.
Later that night
Nate sat alone in his room, staring at the ceiling, mind heavy with tomorrow.
The door slid open softly.
Kunou stepped inside.
She held something cupped carefully in both hands.
"If Shuten Dōji pushes you too far…" she said quietly, "…I want you to use this."
To be continue
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