Fo
A Room Too Small for Sovereigns
Fang Yuan in Tokyo: The Apartment Chronicles
CHAPTER 1: THE SOVEREIGN'S NEW HOME
Shibuya thrummed with life in the afternoon sun. Pedestrians flowed through crosswalks like schools of fish, each person caught in their own current of purpose. Amidst this chaos of humanity stood a man who seemed strangely disconnected from it all—not observing, merely existing alongside it, like a rock in a stream.
Fang Yuan gazed up at the unremarkable apartment building before him. Twelve floors of aging concrete and small balconies, neither new nor particularly old. Nothing about it suggested significance or power. Just another human dwelling in a city full of them.
Perfect.
The real estate agent beside him fidgeted nervously. Something about her client made her skin prickle, though she couldn't explain why. He looked ordinary enough—a man of indeterminate age with sharp features and eyes that seemed too calm, too still. He'd paid in cash, required minimal paperwork, and had asked only one question during the entire process: "Is it quiet?"
"Well, Fang-san," she said, forcing brightness into her voice, "shall we go inside for the final walkthrough?"
Fang Yuan nodded once. He followed her into the building, his footsteps making no sound on the worn lobby tiles.
The apartment itself was on the tenth floor—one bedroom, a cramped kitchen, living space barely fitting a low table and couch. Dust coated every surface. The previous tenant had left suddenly, the agent explained, hence the favorable price.
"Some people say the building is... unusual," she ventured as Fang Yuan examined the small bathroom. "Nothing serious! Just that it's very quiet. Peaceful. Some say too peaceful." She laughed nervously.
Fang Yuan ran a finger along the bathroom sink's edge. "Unusual how?"
"Oh, just silly rumors. People say they never see stray animals nearby. And some claim they never have bad dreams while living here." She waved dismissively. "Superstitious nonsense, of course."
Fang Yuan's lips curved slightly. "Of course."
As they moved back to the main room, he noticed something the agent had overlooked—small markings etched into the corners of the room, partially hidden by dust. Amateur warding attempts. Defensive talismans with flawed formations.
"I'll take it," he said.
The agent blinked in surprise. "Don't you want to check the—"
"No. It's suitable."
Two hours later, with paperwork completed and keys in hand, Fang Yuan stood alone in his new apartment. He moved methodically through each room, examining the hidden wards and talismans more carefully now. They were crude but sincere—the work of someone with minimal power but genuine fear.
Behind the refrigerator, he found something different—a more complex formation, dormant but containing actual power. A summoning array, though flawed and incomplete.
"Interesting," he murmured, his first word since the agent had left.
That night, he slept dreamlessly on a newly purchased futon laid directly on the hardwood floor. Outside, in the spiritual landscape of Tokyo, entities that fed on human negativity sensed something new in the Shibuya apartment building—not a barrier, but an abyss. A void that promised not repulsion but absolute annihilation.
They stayed away, and the building grew even quieter.
Days stretched into weeks as Fang Yuan established his routine. Tea at dawn, brewed in a small cast iron pot he'd purchased from a traditional shop. A newspaper from the convenience store downstairs, read methodically from front to back. Hours spent with books on this world's history and supernatural systems, occasionally making notes in a small leather-bound journal.
The apartment remained sparse—just the futon, the low table, a single cushion to sit on, a lamp, and growing stacks of books organized with mathematical precision. He required nothing more.
Each evening, he would stand on his small balcony and observe Tokyo's spiritual landscape with senses that perceived far beyond the physical. He mapped the flows of cursed energy, noted the territories of various entities, and occasionally observed the movements of this world's so-called protectors—the jujutsu sorcerers.
They were primitive systems by his standards, but not without interest. This world's understanding of cursed energy was functional but incomplete, like children who had discovered how to make fire but understood nothing of molecular combustion.
Sometimes, he would extend his perception further, touching the edges of domains belonging to special grade curses or ancient sorcerers. They would sense his attention and recoil, unable to identify what had brushed against their consciousness but instinctively recognizing it as something beyond their understanding.
On the forty-fifth evening after his arrival, as rain fell softly outside, Fang Yuan's attention returned to the summoning array hidden behind his refrigerator. Each night, it had grown slightly more active, responding to his passive presence like a plant turning toward sunlight.
"Curious," he said to the empty apartment.
He moved the refrigerator with one hand, not bothering to unplug it, and crouched to examine the array more closely. It was designed as an emergency measure—a way to call forth powerful allies if the apartment's previous tenant faced overwhelming enemies. But it was fundamentally flawed, lacking crucial stabilizing elements and proper dimensional anchoring.
In its current state, activating it would be unpredictable at best, catastrophic at worst. It might summon the intended entities, or it might tear a hole in reality itself.
Fang Yuan traced the pattern with one finger, following each line and curve, each symbol and connecting thread. With his cultivation-enhanced senses, he could see what the array's creator could not—the gaps in the pattern, the unfinished connections, the missing stabilizing counter-weights.
He considered, briefly, simply erasing it. It would take minimal effort.
Instead, he pressed his finger to the center of the array and fed it a drop of his essence—not cursed energy, not jujutsu, but something far older and more fundamental. The energy that remained after one transcended the Great Dao itself.
"Let's see what happens," he said to no one.
The array ignited like a star being born, lines burning white-hot into the wall, symbols reshaping themselves as they interacted with his essence. The apartment's lights flickered, then exploded in showers of sparks. From the buildings around them, electricity surged and failed, plunging four city blocks into darkness.
And in five different realities, five different beings felt the summons like a harpoon through their existence.
Shiki Ryougi was walking between worlds, hunting a spirit that had escaped her twice before. The boundary between life and death wavered around her like heat distortion on summer pavement. Her knife—an ordinary blade made extraordinary by her touch—was already slick with the not-quite-blood of lesser spirits.
She felt the pull first as an itch behind her eyes, then as a physical tug at her core. The boundary between worlds stretched grotesquely around her, and for the first time in her existence, Shiki felt fear touch her heart. Whatever was pulling her was beyond her understanding, beyond the rules she had always navigated.
Before she could resist, reality collapsed around her like a theater curtain falling.
Arcueid Brunestud was sleeping deep beneath a mountain, dreaming the slow dreams of immortals. In her semi-conscious state, she monitored her domain, sensed the movements of lesser vampires across the globe, and maintained the careful balance she had established over centuries.
The summons shattered her rest like a sledgehammer through glass. Her crimson eyes snapped open in the perfect darkness of her sanctuary, glowing with confusion and rage. No one had the power to compel her, True Ancestor and princess of her kind.
She reached out with her immense power to crush whatever insect had disturbed her—and found her power redirected, her very being pulled through dimensions she had never touched.
Her fury followed her through the rift.
Kali was dancing between stars, scattering the ashes of dead gods. Her blue skin reflected the cosmic radiation as she moved in patterns as old as time itself, each gesture infused with the weight of destruction and rebirth. Her many arms held implements of both death and creation—scythes alongside seedpods, daggers alongside water.
The rhythm of existence itself flowed through her until, suddenly, it broke. The cosmic dance faltered as an external force grabbed her by the essence and pulled.
Kali, who had existed since before time had meaning, felt something she had not experienced in eons—surprise. She was being summoned, not by prayer or ritual, but by something that stood outside the very systems she embodied.
Intrigued despite herself, she followed the pull.
Morgan le Fay was weaving a curse to bind a kingdom. Her fingers danced through the air, trailing magic visible only to those with the sight to perceive true power. Each gesture was precise, each word spoken with perfect inflection, the culmination of a plan centuries in the making.
When the summons struck, her tapestry of magic unraveled like cheap thread. Centuries of planning undone in an instant. Her rage was cold and immediate, a promise of vengeance that would echo through generations.
Whatever had dared interrupt her work would suffer eternally for its presumption. She wrapped this oath around herself as the dimensions folded and transported her against her will.
Vados was observing the birth of a distant star, calculating the precise adjustments needed to ensure it would eventually support life. As an Angel of her universe, such cosmic gardening fell within her duties—guiding creation with a light but authoritative touch.
She felt the summons as an impossibility—a force that should not have been able to reach her across dimensional boundaries, let alone affect her divine form. Yet it did, tugging at her with irresistible strength.
Curious rather than alarmed, she allowed herself to be pulled through the dimensional rift, her analytical mind already categorizing the unique energy signature of whatever had summoned her.
In Fang Yuan's apartment, the air cracked like glass. Space itself seemed to fold and unfold, geometries that had never existed in this world briefly flashing into being before collapsing. The refrigerator toppled with a crash. The few lights that hadn't exploded earlier now died, plunging the apartment into darkness broken only by the fierce glow of the activated array.
And in that glow stood five women, materialized in a circle around him, each radiating enough power to level mountains.
Fang Yuan set down his teacup on the low table, the only piece of furniture that had survived the dimensional disturbance.
"Interesting," he said again.
Shiki Ryougi recovered first, knife already in hand, eyes shifting to that mystic blue that could perceive the death of all things. She stared at Fang Yuan, blade poised to strike.
And then she froze.
"Why don't you... have a death line?" she whispered, voice caught between horror and fascination.
Before Fang Yuan could respond, Arcueid lunged forward—a blur of white and gold. Her hand shot toward his throat, crimson eyes blazing with predatory instinct. Her fingers stopped a millimeter from his skin, trembling as if pressing against an invisible barrier.
"What are you?" she demanded, voice imperial and ancient. "I can't... read your soul."
Kali, blue-skinned and many-armed, began a slow circle around him, each of her eight hands weaving complex gestures. "He exists outside the wheel," she murmured. "Beyond dharma. Beyond karma."
Morgan le Fay stood back, her massive rune-etched trident-lance pointed at Fang Yuan's heart. "Release us, mortal, or face obliteration," she commanded, her voice carrying the weight of fae royalty.
Vados alone remained composed, tapping her staff lightly on the floor as she assessed the situation with divine detachment. "How curious," she said, her melodic voice carrying undertones of cosmic power. "You've managed to bind entities from across multiversal boundaries. That shouldn't be possible."
Fang Yuan looked at each of them in turn, unmoved by their power, their beauty, or their threats. He simply poured another cup of tea from the pot on the low table, the liquid still steaming despite the chaos that had just occurred.
"I didn't bind you," he said flatly. "The previous tenant's summoning array did. It was incomplete. I merely activated it."
He pointed to the remains of the array, now burned into the wall behind the toppled refrigerator, its lines transformed from the crude original into something far more complex and elegant.
"However," he continued, "the binding appears to have established itself spontaneously. I suspect it's because none of you belong in this world, and my essence acted as an anchor point."
"Unacceptable!" Morgan declared, swinging her lance in a blur. The weapon should have cleaved Fang Yuan in half—instead, it passed through him as if he were mist, then solidified again. The lance's momentum carried it into the wall, where it embedded deeply, cracking concrete.
Morgan stared in disbelief at her weapon, then at the unharmed man sitting calmly before her.
Fang Yuan sipped his tea. "The binding appears to prevent you from harming me. Practical."
"You did this deliberately," Arcueid accused, crimson eyes narrowing. "You knew what would happen."
"I knew something would happen," Fang Yuan corrected. "The specifics were unpredictable given the array's flaws."
Shiki stepped forward, her posture shifting from aggressive to observant. "You're not from this world either."
"No."
"You're like us," Vados observed. "A being out of place."
"Not exactly," Kali interjected, her cosmic vision perceiving layers to Fang Yuan that even the others couldn't see. "He chose to be here. We were compelled."
"Can you undo the binding?" Arcueid asked, her initial fury mellowing into wary curiosity.
"Perhaps." Fang Yuan set down his cup. "But I won't."
The temperature in the room plummeted as Kali's divine aura flared. "You dare to keep goddesses captive? Do you understand what we are, mortal?"
For the first time, Fang Yuan's expression changed—the slightest curl of his lip that might have been amusement.
"I understand exactly what you are," he said quietly. "And I am not a mortal."
The simple statement carried such weight that even Kali took a step back. For a being like her, who could sense the truth of existence, his words revealed glimpses of what lay beneath his human appearance—depths of power so vast and ancient that they defied comprehension.
"Then what are you?" Vados asked, genuine interest in her voice.
Fang Yuan gestured to the apartment around them. "Currently, I am someone who owns a one-bedroom apartment in Shibuya. You are now my guests. The binding prevents you from traveling more than 100 meters from me, so I suggest you adapt."
He stood, his movements economical and precise. "I have only one bedroom. You may arrange the living room among yourselves. I expect minimal disruption to my routine."
With that, he walked past them into his bedroom and closed the door, leaving five of the most powerful beings in the multiverse staring at each other in his cramped living room.
After a long silence, Arcueid said what they were all thinking: "What the hell just happened?"
CHAPTER 2: MORNING ADJUSTMENTS
The first night was chaos.
None of the five women slept. Arcueid paced the small living room like a caged predator, occasionally testing the binding by attempting to leave, only to be pulled back by an invisible force when she reached the building's entrance. Morgan alternated between attempting to break through the bedroom door (impossible) and trying various magical countermeasures against the binding (equally futile). Shiki sat cross-legged by the window, knife across her lap, watching the boundary between life and death fluctuate across Tokyo's skyline with her mystic eyes. Kali meditated in a corner, her divine form condensed to appear more human, though her blue skin still glowed faintly in the darkness. Vados observed it all from the balcony, occasionally making soft humming sounds as she tested the metaphysical properties of their new prison.
Morning came with the sound of the bedroom door opening.
Fang Yuan emerged, dressed in the same simple dark clothes as the day before, his appearance immaculate despite having slept in a room with no power. He surveyed the destruction of his living room—toppled refrigerator, broken lights, lance embedded in the wall, furniture pushed against walls—with the same passive interest one might show a mildly unusual cloud formation.
"Good morning," he said, his tone neutral.
Five pairs of eyes turned to him—wary, angry, curious, calculating.
"Is it?" Morgan asked acidly. "I find nothing good about being imprisoned in this..." she gestured around the apartment with dramatic disgust, "...concrete box."
"We are all imprisoned here," Fang Yuan replied simply. "I am bound to this location just as you are bound to me."
"But you can break it," Arcueid pointed out, crimson eyes flashing. "You just won't."
"Correct."
Kali rose from her meditation, her multiple arms having been withdrawn into a more conventional two-armed form overnight. "Why?" she asked directly. "What purpose does our captivity serve?"
Fang Yuan considered the question with genuine thought, his eyes focusing on some middle distance. "Currently, no specific purpose. But you five are the most significant entities I've encountered in this world. Your presence is... novel."
"We're entertainment?" Shiki asked, her voice dangerously quiet.
"Observation subjects," Morgan spat.
"I would say... unexpected company," Vados suggested, tapping her staff thoughtfully. "Am I right, Fang Yuan?"
He inclined his head slightly. "Close enough."
Fang Yuan stepped over to the fallen refrigerator and, with one hand, set it upright again. He opened it, removed a bottle of water, and drank methodically.
"I will get breakfast," he stated. "The convenience store downstairs should be sufficient. You may accompany me or remain here and experience the binding's pull. Your choice."
"You expect us to just... play house?" Arcueid asked incredulously.
"I expect you to adapt to circumstances you cannot change," Fang Yuan replied. "As all beings must."
His words hung in the air, carrying a weight that suggested he had adapted to many such circumstances himself.
Shiki stood up in one fluid motion, sheathing her knife. "I'll come. I need air."
The others exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them. Finally, Kali nodded. "We will all come. For now."
As they filed into the hallway, an elderly woman from the apartment next door opened her door to collect her morning newspaper. She froze at the sight of Fang Yuan accompanied by five extraordinarily beautiful, distinctly unusual women—particularly startled by Kali's blue skin and the obvious weapon Morgan carried.
"Good morning, Tanaka-san," Fang Yuan said politely in Japanese.
The old woman's eyes widened. She looked from Fang Yuan to his companions, then slowly closed her door without a word.
"I believe your neighbor thinks you've started a cult," Vados observed with amusement.
"Or a very exotic brothel," Morgan added maliciously.
Fang Yuan's expression didn't change. "Irrelevant."
The trip to the convenience store was eventful in ways none of them had anticipated.
The elevator ride down was a study in tense silence, six extraordinarily powerful beings crammed into a small metal box. Arcueid kept shifting her weight from foot to foot, unused to being confined in small spaces. Morgan stood as far from Fang Yuan as the small elevator allowed, projecting disdain with every fiber of her being. Shiki positioned herself by the door, her hand never far from her concealed knife. Kali stood perfectly still, her divine presence causing the elevator lights to flicker occasionally. Vados observed it all with serene detachment.
When they reached the lobby, the building manager—a middle-aged man with thinning hair—looked up from his newspaper and promptly dropped it at the sight of them.
"G-good morning, Fang-san," he stammered, eyes darting between the five women. "I... didn't know you had... visitors."
"They will be staying with me," Fang Yuan stated without elaboration.
The manager blinked rapidly. "All... all of them? But the lease agreement specifies—"
"I will pay extra," Fang Yuan interrupted, placing a stack of bills on the counter that made the manager's eyes widen. "For any inconvenience."
The manager hesitated, then took the money with a nervous smile. "Of course, of course. Welcome, ladies, to... um..."
"Thank you for your hospitality," Vados said smoothly, offering a slight bow that the manager hastily returned.
Outside, Tokyo was already buzzing with morning activity. Pedestrians rushed along sidewalks, traffic hummed steadily, and the spring air carried a mix of exhaust, food smells, and cherry blossoms.
Arcueid immediately became fascinated by the rows of vending machines lining the street. "They have EVERYTHING!" she exclaimed, pressing her face against the glass of one dispensing canned coffee. "Look! This box gives you hot food! This one has toys!"
She darted from one machine to another, her earlier anger temporarily forgotten in the face of new discoveries. "Where I come from, we don't have anything like this. It's brilliant!"
Kali moved through the crowded streets with divine grace, causing pedestrians to unconsciously part before her, many turning to stare at her blue skin and ethereal presence. "They cannot perceive my divinity," she observed, "yet they sense something beyond their understanding."
"Humans always know when they're in the presence of power," Morgan noted. "Even if their minds can't comprehend it." Her gaze swept the urban landscape with poorly concealed disgust. "This world is choked with iron," she muttered, visibly uncomfortable among the city's metal infrastructure.
Shiki walked silently beside Fang Yuan, her eyes constantly scanning their surroundings. Occasionally she would tense, hand moving toward her concealed knife, when they passed a location where the boundary between life and death seemed particularly thin.
"There are spirits everywhere," she commented quietly. "Not like the ones in my world, but similar. They're... afraid."
"Yes," Fang Yuan confirmed. "This world has its own supernatural ecosystem. Cursed spirits born from negative emotions. Jujutsu sorcerers who exorcise them. A balance maintained through conflict."
"And where do you fit in this balance?" Shiki asked.
Fang Yuan's expression remained unchanged. "I don't."
Vados observed it all with serene detachment, occasionally commenting on the technological advancements of this particular Earth timeline compared to others she had witnessed.
"This iteration is particularly focused on miniaturization and efficiency," she noted, examining a digital billboard. "Fascinating prioritization of their limited resources."
Inside the convenience store, things grew more complicated.
Arcueid wanted to buy everything, having discovered the concept of packaged snacks. "What is this 'Pocky'? Why are there fifteen flavors? I need all of them!"
She piled items into a basket—snacks, drinks, magazines with colorful covers. Her childlike enthusiasm contrasted sharply with her regal beauty, drawing stares from other customers.
Kali examined the offerings at the small shrine near the register with critical eyes. "Their spiritual practices are perfunctory but sincere," she observed, fingering the small bell. "They remember the old ways, even if they've forgotten why."
Morgan refused to touch anything, instead commanding others to fetch items for her inspection. "Bring me that," she ordered a bewildered Arcueid, pointing to a packaged sweet. "No, not that one. The one beside it. With the red label."
Shiki efficiently gathered basic supplies—additional food, cleaning products. Her movements were precise, her selections practical. "The apartment needs cleaning," she stated. "Dust is bad for health."
Vados predicted the total cost before the cashier had finished scanning, accurate to the last yen. "4,872 yen," she announced, as the register displayed the exact same figure.
The cashier—a young man with dyed hair—stared at her in astonishment.
Throughout it all, Fang Yuan simply collected his newspaper and waited by the door, unmoved by the chaos his companions created. When they finally emerged, loaded with purchases he hadn't planned or needed, he didn't comment. He simply led them back to the apartment, newspaper tucked under his arm.
Once home, the true adjustment period began.
CHAPTER 3: TERRITORIES AND BOUNDARIES
"This is unacceptable," Morgan declared, surveying the small living room. "Five beings of our stature cannot share such a limited space. We need to establish boundaries."
It was the afternoon of their first full day together. The initial shock had worn off, replaced by the practical realities of their situation. The apartment, which had seemed adequate for one person, now felt impossibly cramped with six occupants.
"I agree," Arcueid said, perched on the kitchen counter. "I need space to move. To breathe."
Fang Yuan, seated at the low table with his books, looked up. "The apartment has 58 square meters of total space. The bedroom is 12 square meters. That leaves 46 square meters to be divided among five individuals."
"He's calculating our cages," Morgan muttered.
"He's being practical," Vados countered. "Space is finite, and we must work within constraints."
Kali, who had been meditating by the window, opened her eyes. "Space is more than physical dimensions. It is also purpose and energy. We need not divide the apartment into territories, but into functions."
Shiki, who had spent the last hour methodically cleaning the kitchen, nodded in agreement. "Sensible. Shared spaces, shared functions."
Fang Yuan observed the discussion with passive interest. These beings—gods, vampires, mystics, fae, angels—were adapting to captivity more quickly than he would have predicted. They were establishing hierarchies, finding roles, creating order from chaos. It was... illuminating.
"I claim the roof," Arcueid announced suddenly. "It's outside the apartment but within the binding's radius. I need sky above me."
"Can we do that?" Shiki asked, looking at Fang Yuan.
He shrugged slightly. "The binding is to my presence, not to this specific location. The roof is acceptable."
Arcueid's face lit up. "Perfect! I'll make a nest up there."
"A nest?" Morgan scoffed. "Like some animal?"
"A territory," Arcueid corrected, crimson eyes flashing. "Like a True Ancestor deserves."
Before Morgan could retort, Kali interjected smoothly. "I require a space for morning rituals. A corner where I may dance and meditate without disturbance."
"The area by the window would suit your needs," Vados suggested. "The light there changes beautifully with the dawn."
Kali inclined her head in thanks. "Acceptable."
"I need access to the kitchen," Shiki stated. "I cook. It calms me." Left unsaid was the implication that a calm Shiki was in everyone's best interest.
"You cook?" Arcueid asked, interest piqued.
"Yes."
"Real food? Not just blood or essence or concepts?"
"Real food," Shiki confirmed. "Japanese mainly. Some Western."
Arcueid grinned, revealing slightly elongated canines. "I call dibs on taste testing."
"You eat physical food?" Morgan asked, surprise momentarily overriding her perpetual disdain.
"I can consume anything," Arcueid replied proudly. "Blood, food, magic, dreams. One of the perks of being a True Ancestor."
Morgan rolled her eyes. "How delightfully primitive."
"Where will you establish your territory, Queen of Faeries?" Kali asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.
Morgan looked around the apartment with an evaluating eye. "The couch," she finally declared. "It's the closest thing to a throne in this hovel."
"And you?" Shiki asked Vados, who had been quietly observing.
The angel smiled serenely. "I require minimal space. The balcony suits me when I wish to observe this world. Otherwise, I am content to share common areas."
They all turned to Fang Yuan, who had returned to his book during their discussion.
"And our host?" Kali asked. "What are your requirements beyond the bedroom?"
Without looking up, Fang Yuan answered, "Quiet during reading. Tea water boiled properly. My routine undisturbed."
"That's it?" Arcueid asked incredulously. "No special treatment? No offerings or services or... whatever it is transcendent beings usually demand?"
"No."
The five women exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them. There was something unsettling about Fang Yuan's simplicity, his lack of demands. Most powerful beings required acknowledgment, tribute, some form of recognition for their status. His absence of such needs suggested something beyond even their understanding.
"Well," Morgan finally broke the silence, "I suppose that makes things marginally less intolerable."
"A ringing endorsement," Vados murmured with a slight smile.
As night fell, they settled into their chosen spaces. Arcueid disappeared to the roof, returning with materials she'd scavenged to create a shelter. Kali arranged a small meditation area by the window, placing items she'd purchased from the convenience store—incense, a small bell, flower petals—in precise patterns. Morgan claimed the couch, somehow making the simple piece of furniture look like a royal seat through posture alone. Shiki finished cleaning the kitchen to her exacting standards, then settled in a corner with a futon she'd discovered in a closet. Vados moved to the balcony, where she stood watching the city lights come alive, her staff occasionally tapping a rhythm that seemed to harmonize with Tokyo's pulse.
Fang Yuan observed it all from his position at the table, saying nothing but noting everything. When the apartment finally grew quiet, he rose and went to his bedroom, closing the door with a soft click.
Inside, he sat cross-legged on his futon and closed his eyes. Not to sleep—he required minimal rest after his transcendence—but to process. These five beings, drawn from across realities, were each extraordinary in their own right. Their interactions, adaptations, and responses were worthy of study.
For the first time since arriving in this world, Fang Yuan felt something akin to interest stirring within him.
How... unexpected.
CHAPTER 4: BREAKFAST REVELATIONS
Morning came with unexpected sounds—clinking dishes, running water, hushed arguments.
Fang Yuan opened his eyes precisely at 5:30 AM as he did every day. He folded his futon with mechanical precision, changed into simple dark clothes, and opened his bedroom door.
The sight that greeted him was unexpected.
Shiki Ryougi stood in his kitchen, silently cooking rice. Her movements were efficient, her expression unreadable behind her straight black hair. She wore the same clothes as yesterday—red leather jacket over a blue kimono dress—but had removed her shoes.
Arcueid was nowhere to be seen.
Kali sat cross-legged in her corner, already deep in meditation, a faint cosmic glow emanating from her blue skin as she performed silent rituals.
Morgan le Fay slept on the couch, somehow managing to look regal even in slumber, her silver-white hair spread around her like a halo, one arm draped dramatically over her eyes.
Vados stood by the balcony door, gazing out at the dawn-lit Tokyo skyline with a contemplative expression, her staff tapping lightly against the floor in a rhythm that seemed to echo the city's awakening pulse.
"Good morning," Fang Yuan said, his tone neutral.
Shiki glanced up from the rice cooker. "Morning. Rice will be ready soon."
"You didn't need to cook."
"I need to do something with my hands," she replied simply. "Otherwise, I might try to kill you again."
Fang Yuan nodded. "Understandable."
He moved to the balcony door, where Vados stepped aside with graceful poise to let him pass. Outside, the morning air was cool and clear, the city below beginning to stir with early activity.
"You require minimal sleep," Vados observed quietly, joining him on the balcony.
"Yes."
"As do I. Angels exist in a perpetual state of awareness." She studied his profile. "But you are not an angel. Not a god. Not any being I've encountered across countless universes."
"No."
"You were mortal once," she continued, not deterred by his minimal responses. "Human, I think. But you transcended. Became something else."
Fang Yuan turned to face her. "You are perceptive."
"It's my function." Vados smiled slightly. "To observe, to analyze, to understand the patterns of existence."
"And what patterns do you observe here?"
Vados gestured to the apartment behind them. "Five beings of immense power, bound to a sixth who surpasses them all, living in a space too small for comfort but large enough for adaptation. It's an experiment no cosmic entity would have designed intentionally." Her smile widened. "Which makes it all the more fascinating."
From inside, Shiki's voice called out: "Breakfast is ready."
They returned to find the others awake. Morgan stretched languidly on the couch, making the simple action look like a royal ceremony. Kali had completed her morning meditation and now sat with perfect posture near the low table. Arcueid had appeared from the roof, her platinum hair windblown, eyes bright with morning energy.
"I smell food," she announced, sniffing appreciatively. "Real food."
Shiki had set out simple breakfast dishes on the low table. Rice, miso soup
A Room Too Small for Sovereigns
CHAPTER 4: BREAKFAST REVELATIONS (Continued)
Shiki had arranged everything with meticulous precision—each bowl placed exactly, chopsticks aligned perfectly, portions measured with careful consistency.
"This is... surprisingly normal," Arcueid commented, kneeling at the table and eyeing the food with genuine appreciation.
"Food is food," Shiki replied simply. "Humans need it. Some of us choose it."
Morgan approached reluctantly, as if worried the humble meal might somehow diminish her royal status. "I suppose I could sample this... mortal sustenance."
"Your condescension is truly impressive," Vados observed with a serene smile, taking her own place at the table.
Kali joined them, her cosmic form condensed to appear more human, though her blue skin still subtly illuminated the morning shadows. "Breaking bread together is one of the oldest forms of communion across realities," she noted. "A ritual that binds even enemies."
"We're not enemies," Arcueid said, already reaching for the rice. "We're... what are we exactly? Roommates? Prisoners? Exhibits?"
All eyes turned to Fang Yuan, who had seated himself at the head of the table. His posture was perfect—neither rigid nor relaxed, simply correct in a way that suggested centuries of discipline.
"Whatever label you prefer," he replied, accepting a bowl of rice from Shiki with a slight nod of acknowledgment.
"That's it?" Morgan challenged. "No grand speech about your plans for us? No villainous monologue about how you'll harness our powers for some cosmic scheme?"
Fang Yuan regarded her with those still, ancient eyes. "No."
"Why not? Isn't that what all-powerful beings do? Scheme and plot and manipulate?"
"Once, perhaps," he admitted, the rare personal disclosure causing all five women to pay closer attention. "It becomes... inefficient once you've attained everything."
"Everything?" Arcueid echoed, pausing with her chopsticks halfway to her mouth. "What does 'everything' mean?"
Fang Yuan considered the question, not with reluctance but with the precision of someone translating a complex concept into simpler language.
"Power. Knowledge. Immortality. Transcendence. Freedom from all systems." He listed these cosmic achievements as casually as someone might list grocery items. "The ability to reshape reality at will. To exist beyond fate."
The table fell silent as they processed his words. Even Morgan seemed momentarily stripped of her cutting remarks.
"And yet," Kali finally spoke, her voice soft but resonant, "you choose to live in a small apartment in Tokyo, drinking tea and reading newspapers."
"Yes."
"Why?" Shiki asked directly, her gray-blue eyes fixed on him.
Again, that moment of consideration. "After transcendence, choices become... arbitrary. One existence is much like another."
"So you just... gave up?" Arcueid seemed genuinely troubled by the concept.
"No. I simply recognized that continued striving serves no purpose when there is nothing left to strive for."
Morgan snorted. "How depressing."
"On the contrary," Vados interjected, "it's rather enlightened. To move beyond desire itself is a state few beings ever achieve."
"But what's the point of power if you don't use it?" Arcueid pressed, leaning forward. "I mean, you could do anything. Create worlds. Rule empires. Shape the universe to your will."
"I have," Fang Yuan stated simply. "It became repetitive."
The five women exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them. There was something profoundly unsettling about the emptiness behind his words, a void that suggested experiences beyond their comprehension.
Shiki broke the silence with unexpected practicality. "Pass the pickled vegetables, please."
The mundane request somehow restored balance to the conversation. They ate in relative quiet for several minutes, the only sounds the clicking of chopsticks against ceramic bowls and the distant hum of Tokyo awakening outside.
"This is good," Fang Yuan commented after finishing his rice, the simple compliment directed at Shiki.
She looked up, momentarily surprised. "Thank you."
"The ratio of vinegar to rice is correct. Not many achieve that."
A flicker of something—pride, perhaps—crossed Shiki's normally impassive features. "I was taught properly."
"By whom?" The question seemed genuinely interested, another rarity.
"My family employed excellent cooks." A shadow passed over her face. "Before... everything."
Fang Yuan nodded, not pressing further, but the brief exchange had shifted something subtle between them—not warmth, exactly, but perhaps the first foundation of understanding.
Arcueid, finishing her third bowl of rice with inhuman speed, noticed the interaction with keen interest. "So you do have preferences," she said to Fang Yuan, crimson eyes gleaming. "You're not completely beyond caring about experiences."
"Observation is not the same as preference," he replied. "I notice quality. Precision. Skill."
"But you enjoy them," she pressed. "Otherwise, why comment?"
"Acknowledgment encourages continuation of beneficial behaviors."
Morgan laughed sharply. "He's training us like pets!"
"No," Vados corrected gently. "He's engaging. In his way."
Kali nodded in agreement. "Even beings beyond desire maintain awareness. The capacity to recognize harmony."
Fang Yuan rose from the table, his meal completed with the same efficiency that characterized all his actions. "I will get my newspaper now. You may accompany me or remain."
"Always so commanding," Morgan muttered, but she stood along with the others, none of them willing to experience the binding's pull again.
As they prepared to leave, Shiki approached Fang Yuan directly. "I need supplies," she stated. "For proper cooking."
"Make a list."
"I already have." She produced a neatly written page, the characters precise and economical.
Fang Yuan scanned it quickly, then nodded. "After the newspaper, we will visit a proper market."
"Really?" Arcueid perked up. "A real Japanese market? With fish and vegetables and those little cake things?"
"Yes."
"I'll come too!" she declared, bouncing slightly on her toes. "I want to see everything."
"As will I," Kali added. "I wish to observe this world's food rituals."
Morgan sighed dramatically. "I suppose I have no choice but to join this culinary expedition."
"It might broaden your horizons, Your Majesty," Vados suggested with the faintest hint of teasing in her melodic voice.
Morgan shot her a glare but said nothing more.
As they filed out of the apartment, an observer might have mistaken them for an unusual but ordinary group—perhaps foreign tourists with eccentric fashion sense, led by their stoic Japanese guide. Nothing about their casual conversation would suggest they were beings of immense power, bound together by cosmic forces beyond comprehension.
Nothing except, perhaps, the way pedestrians unconsciously parted before them on the street, or how birds fell silent as they passed, or how the spiritual landscape of Tokyo rippled like disturbed water in their wake.
CHAPTER 5: MARKET DYNAMICS
The Tsukiji Outer Market bustled with morning activity. Fishmongers called out their daily specials, produce vendors arranged colorful displays, and tourists mingled with locals navigating the narrow aisles between stalls.
Into this controlled chaos walked six beings whose combined power could have unmade reality itself.
"It smells amazing!" Arcueid exclaimed, her heightened senses overwhelmed by the mingled aromas of fresh seafood, grilled street food, and exotic spices. She darted from stall to stall like an excited child, pointing at unfamiliar items and occasionally reaching out to touch textures that intrigued her.
Shiki moved with purpose, consulting her list and selecting items with discerning precision. She spoke briefly with vendors in perfect Japanese, asking about freshness, origin, and quality with the confidence of someone who understood food at a fundamental level.
Kali observed the interactions with scholarly interest, her blue skin drawing curious glances that she either didn't notice or chose to ignore. "Their offerings are ritualistic," she commented to Vados. "See how they present each item as if it were sacred? The arrangement, the care—it's a form of worship."
"Many cultures elevate food preparation to an art," Vados agreed, watching a sushi chef work with blinding speed and precision. "It's one of the more admirable human traits—finding transcendence in necessity."
Morgan maintained a studied distance from the crowds, her regal bearing causing people to unconsciously give her space. "Everything is so... raw," she observed with a mixture of distaste and reluctant fascination. "So immediate."
"That's why it's wonderful," Arcueid countered, suddenly appearing with a skewer of grilled squid. "Here, try this! It's incredible!"
"I will not eat something handed to me on a stick," Morgan declared.
"Your loss," Arcueid shrugged, devouring the squid in two neat bites.
Throughout their exploration, Fang Yuan remained a constant presence—neither guiding nor restricting, simply observing. He carried the shopping basket for Shiki without being asked, occasionally answering questions about unfamiliar ingredients with surprising knowledge.
"You understand food," Shiki noted as he identified a particularly rare mushroom variety.
"I understand many things," he replied. "Five centuries of life provides ample time for learning."
"Only five?" Vados asked with gentle amusement. "You're quite young, then."
Fang Yuan's lips curved in what might have been the ghost of a smile. "Relatively speaking."
As they navigated deeper into the market, Arcueid suddenly froze, her posture shifting from carefree to predatory in an instant. Her crimson eyes narrowed, scanning the crowd with newfound intensity.
"What is it?" Shiki asked, hand instinctively moving toward her concealed knife.
"We're being watched," Arcueid replied quietly. "Something powerful. Not human."
Fang Yuan showed no reaction, continuing to examine a display of tea leaves as if nothing were amiss.
"Where?" Morgan asked, her own senses now alert, the air around her cooling several degrees as her magic responded to potential threat.
"Three o'clock. Stall with the red banners."
They all looked—with varying degrees of subtlety—toward a small stall selling traditional masks. Behind it stood a young man with unusual white hair and a distinctive blindfold covering his eyes. Despite his apparent blindness, he seemed to be looking directly at them.
"Satoru Gojo," Fang Yuan identified him without turning. "This world's strongest jujutsu sorcerer."
"He can sense us," Kali observed. "Our nature."
"Yes."
"Is he a threat?" Shiki asked, still poised for action.
"No." Fang Yuan selected a package of tea and placed it in the basket. "But his attention is unwelcome."
"Allow me," Vados said smoothly. With elegant poise, she separated from the group and approached the masked stall. The others couldn't hear the brief conversation, but they saw Gojo's body language shift from wary alertness to surprised interest.
"What is she doing?" Morgan hissed.
"Diplomacy," Kali replied with approval.
After a few minutes, Vados returned, a small paper bag in her hand. "The situation is managed," she announced. "He was merely curious about the unusual spiritual pressure we're emitting. I explained we're foreign practitioners here for private research."
"And he believed that?" Arcueid asked skeptically.
"No," Vados smiled. "But he accepted it as the polite fiction it was meant to be. He's agreed to maintain distance if we do the same." She held up the paper bag. "And I purchased a lovely mask."
Fang Yuan nodded slightly, perhaps in approval. "Efficient."
The compliment, simple as it was, caused something to shift in Vados's serene expression—a momentary softening around her eyes, quickly controlled.
They continued their shopping, eventually gathering everything on Shiki's list and more. Arcueid had accumulated a collection of street foods and sweets, most consumed immediately but some saved "for research." Kali had purchased several ceremonial items—incense, a small brass bell, fresh flowers—for her morning rituals. Morgan, despite her initial disdain, had discreetly acquired several packages of high-quality wagashi sweets, drawn to their artistic presentation. Vados carried her mask and a small collection of books about Japanese spiritual practices from a vendor tucked between food stalls.
As they walked back toward the apartment, packages distributed among them, Arcueid fell into step beside Fang Yuan. Her initial hostility had gradually transformed into persistent curiosity over the past day.
"So," she began, "five hundred years, huh? That's a good run for a human-born."
"Yes."
"I'm older," she stated with a hint of prideful challenge in her voice.
"I know."
"Aren't you curious how much older?"
Fang Yuan glanced at her. "If you wish to tell me, you will. The specific number is irrelevant."
Arcueid pouted slightly. "You're no fun."
"Fun is inefficient."
"Is that really what you believe?" she pressed, studying his profile. "That enjoyment is just... wasted energy?"
Fang Yuan considered the question with his usual careful precision. "Enjoyment served a purpose during my cultivation journey. It provided mental balance, prevented spiritual deviation, maintained human connections useful for advancement."
"And now?"
"Now it serves no purpose."
Arcueid shook her head, platinum hair catching the morning light. "That's the saddest thing I've ever heard."
"Sadness is another inefficiency."
"Oh my god, stop saying that!" she exclaimed, drawing looks from the others walking ahead. "Not everything has to be efficient or serve a purpose. Some things just... are."
Fang Yuan stopped walking, turning to face her fully. His eyes—those ancient, still eyes—studied her with unexpected focus.
"What purpose does your existence serve, True Ancestor?"
The question caught her off guard. "I... what?"
"You were created with a purpose. To regulate lesser vampires. To maintain balance between natural and supernatural. Has fulfilling that purpose brought you satisfaction?"
Arcueid stared at him, crimson eyes wide. "That's not fair."
"It's a direct question."
She looked away, suddenly less animated. "No," she admitted quietly. "It hasn't. It's just... responsibility. Duty. An endless cycle."
Fang Yuan nodded once, as if she had confirmed something he already knew. "Purpose is a constraint. Transcendence means moving beyond it."
With that cryptic statement, he resumed walking, leaving Arcueid standing momentarily alone, her expression troubled.
Morgan, who had overheard the exchange, dropped back to walk beside her. "Don't let him get in your head," she warned, her usual contempt softened by something almost like concern. "Beings like that twist words to sound profound when they're really just empty."
Arcueid glanced at her in surprise. "Are you... being nice to me?"
"Don't be absurd," Morgan sniffed. "I'm simply maintaining group cohesion against a common adversary."
"Sure," Arcueid smiled slowly. "Common adversary. Got it."
Ahead of them, Kali and Shiki walked in companionable silence, each recognizing in the other a kindred appreciation for quietude. Vados, who had been listening to everything with her angelic perception, moved closer to Fang Yuan.
"You're testing them," she observed softly. "Probing their foundations."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Fang Yuan's expression remained unreadable. "Understanding precedes adaptation."
"Whose adaptation are you interested in? Theirs... or yours?"
He didn't answer, but something flickered in those ancient eyes—a momentary disruption in the perfect stillness, like a stone dropped into a deep well, sending ripples across a previously undisturbed surface.
Vados smiled to herself, satisfied with the non-answer's significance.
CHAPTER 6: AFTERNOON REVELATIONS
The apartment transformed over the following days.
What had been a spartan, utilitarian space slowly developed character—not through deliberate decoration but through the accumulated presence of five extraordinary beings establishing themselves within its confines.
Shiki's domain expanded from just the kitchen to include an immaculately organized storage system for food and cooking implements. She had arranged everything with soldier-like precision—knives aligned by size and purpose, ingredients stored by frequency of use, cooking vessels nested with mathematical efficiency.
Arcueid had indeed created a "nest" on the roof—a surprisingly comfortable arrangement of scavenged and purchased items that resembled something between a princess's tent and a predator's den. She spent hours there during daylight, observing the city with her enhanced senses, occasionally disappearing to explore the boundaries of their allowed radius.
Kali's meditation corner had evolved into a proper shrine, with offerings refreshed daily and incense burning in carefully timed intervals. The spiritual energy she cultivated there had begun to affect the apartment itself—plants placed nearby grew with unusual vigor, and the air seemed somehow cleaner, more vibrant.
Morgan had transformed the couch into what could only be described as a throne, adding cushions and throws with jewel-toned colors that complemented her silver-white hair and regal bearing. She had also claimed a bookshelf, filling it with volumes on this world's magic systems, mythology, and history, which she studied with grudging fascination.
Vados maintained the most minimal physical presence but had subtly claimed the balcony as her domain. Small wind chimes now hung from its ceiling, creating music that seemed to harmonize with the city's rhythms in impossible ways. Her collection of masks had grown, displayed on the balcony wall like silent observers.
Fang Yuan's space remained largely unchanged—his bedroom as spartan as ever, his books arranged with perfect precision on their shelf, his few possessions maintained in immaculate order. Yet even he had adapted in small ways—his tea collection had expanded based on Shiki's recommendations, and he had acquired a better quality cushion for his usual spot at the table.
On the afternoon of their fifth day together, as rain fell softly outside, an unusual scene unfolded in the apartment's living room.
Morgan le Fay, Queen of the Faeries, sat cross-legged on the floor beside Fang Yuan, a Go board between them. Her expression was one of intense concentration, chin resting on her hand as she contemplated her next move. Fang Yuan waited with inhuman patience, his face revealing nothing about the game's progress.
"This primitive game is unexpectedly complex," Morgan admitted, finally placing a white stone on the board.
"Most things appearing simple have hidden depths," Fang Yuan replied, immediately placing his black stone in response.
From the kitchen, where she was preparing ingredients for dinner, Shiki watched the unlikely pair with quiet interest. "She hated him three days ago," she observed to Kali, who was assisting by washing vegetables.
"Hate and fascination often coexist," the blue-skinned goddess replied. "Especially for beings like us, who rarely encounter true mysteries."
On the balcony, protected from the rain by the overhang, Vados and Arcueid were engaged in their own conversation, voices drifting in through the partially open door.
"So you're telling me he actually consumed a will of heaven?" Arcueid was saying, her tone incredulous. "That's not possible. Heaven's will is a concept, not an entity."
"In his reality, abstract concepts had concrete manifestations," Vados explained patiently. "Much like your Crimson Moon had physical form despite being a planetary consciousness."
"How do you know so much about him anyway?" Arcueid demanded. "He barely speaks!"
"I observe. I listen. I connect patterns." Vados's voice carried a smile. "Five hundred years of cultivation, defeating fate, transcending—these fragments paint a partial picture."
Back inside, Morgan cursed softly as Fang Yuan captured a significant portion of her territory with a move she hadn't anticipated.
"You play without emotion," she accused. "Without triumph or disappointment."
"Emotions cloud strategy."
"They also inspire it," she countered, studying the board intently. "Creative leaps come from passion, not calculation."
"An interesting theory."
Morgan looked up at him, eyes narrowing. "It's not a theory. It's how beings like us function. Even you must have felt something once—ambition, rage, desire—to drive five centuries of cultivation."