Kōki lay on the bed, a slow breath drifting out of him as the weight of fatigue pressed along his limbs. Heat gathered at his forehead, spreading down his neck with each unsteady inhale.
Fever… he thought, his gaze unfocused on the ceiling. I wonder if this is because I was possessed twice yesterday.
His fingers curled weakly against the blanket. Yesterday really was… too much.
Kōki let his eyes drift across the dim room, the memory pulling at him from somewhere behind the haze of fever.
His breathing slowed as he recalled the first time—when he had woken up in a daze during Kureha's exorcism, his body weak and unsteady, and Sayoko's handwriting left behind on a small note beside him.
His chest tightened as the second moment surfaced.
He could still feel the cold weight that settled inside him when he allowed Kureha's late father to enter his body, just so her parents could finally move on.
His fingers twitched faintly at the memory, the air around him growing warmer with each breath.
Kōki's throat tightened as the memory returned. The air in the room had shifted without warning, the temperature dropping around them.
Kureha's body had arched with a sharp, strained breath, a small tremor moving across her skin before the pressure inside her seemed to release.
Moments later, the spirit pushed free of her body. Its form pulled itself out with a slow, heavy motion that made the room fall completely still.
Kōki could still hear Kureha's weak exhale once the presence left her, the sound thin and unsteady.
Then the creature took shape.
Two unnaturally long arms eased past the out of her first, the joints bending in uneven angles.
Its spindly legs followed, each step touching the floor with a dry, scraping sound that tightened the air in Kōki's chest.
His breath caught as its face came back to him.
Empty black sockets faced forward, unmoving, the hollow darkness inside them pulling the room into a colder silence.
Raikou's summoning followed in his memory—the faint vibration spreading through the air, the sharp shift in pressure, and the sudden chill when the soul reaper appeared.
The atmosphere had drawn tight around them, and the spirit's twisted form wavered before being pulled down toward the underworld.
Another memory surfaced, and Kōki's breath caught for a moment.
Kureha's face came to mind—the way she had leaned in, her warmth brushing close before her lips touched his.
Heat rose slowly across his cheeks at the thought.
His fingers tightened weakly around the edge of the blanket, and he turned his head to the side, trying to clear the image.
A small, shaky exhale left him as he forced himself to look away from the memory.
I guess… I really misunderstood her.
The thought formed as Kōki opened his eyes, his gaze unfocused on the ceiling.
All she had wanted was for someone to understand her pain—someone to notice that she was struggling and to reach out to her.
His chest tightened.
Instead, everyone had pushed her away, treating her presence as something to avoid, calling her strange without even trying to look deeper.
The memory of her walking through the hallway surfaced.
Her hood was pulled low over her head, the fabric shadowing most of her face. Her skin looked drained of color, and a few strands of silver hair slipped out near her cheek.
The faint tremble under her eyes showed the tiredness she carried, yet her expression didn't shift at all as she moved forward.
Kōki felt his stomach tighten as he remembered the other students' voices around her—the short breaths of disgust, the quick steps that moved away from her, the whispered comments they tried to hide but never fully did.
Their reactions filled the hallway with a coldness he hadn't understood back then.
"I… I c-can't take this anymore… I have t-to reach out to Raikou. M-Maybe he'll know what to do."
Koki pushed himself upright, his breath catching in his throat.
His arms shook under his own weight, and a dull heat pressed against his forehead.
He slid his hand across the desk, fingers dragging over stray papers until they touched the cold edge of his flip phone.
He pulled it toward him, the hinges making a soft click as he opened it.
His vision wavered for a moment, and he blinked slowly, trying to steady it.
"Hah… okay… okay…" he muttered, his voice thin.
His thumb hovered above the keypad, trembling.
A faint pressure tightened in his chest, and each breath felt uneven.
He finally pressed the call button and lifted the phone to his ear, his grip loose and unsteady.
The ringing tone buzzed weakly through the speaker.
Every pulse made his head throb, and he swallowed hard, trying to keep himself upright as he waited for Raikou to pick up.
A calm voice came through the receiver, steady and professional.
"This is Deacon Crowe. I handle exorcisms and spirits. How can I assist?"
Kōki pressed the phone closer, a cough shaking through his chest.
"R-Raikou… it's m-me…"
A faint rustle came through the receiver, followed by Raikou's low voice, steady but edged with concern.
"Kid… that you? You sound like crap."
Kōki shifted on the bed, a weak breath slipping out as another wave of heat pressed against his forehead.
"Y-Yeah… it just… happened all of a sudden when I woke up…"
A short breath moved through the receiver, Raikou's tone flattening into something firm.
"I see. So what do you want? It better be important. I already told you—this number is only for emergencies."
Kōki swallowed, the movement tight against his sore throat as he tried to steady his breath.
"I… wanted to ask… if the sudden drop in my health could be because I was possessed by Sayoko…"
A slow exhale drifted through the speaker, followed by the faint crackle of burning tobacco.
"I doubt that. You have strong spiritual awareness. One possession isn't enough to make you this sick and drained."
Kōki listened to the soft huff and puff of Raikou drawing on his cigarette, each breath steady on the other end of the line.
"The two of us have abilities normal humans don't. We can see the paranormal."
Another quiet exhale brushed against the receiver.
"In some cases, when a normal human gets possessed, they get sick for weeks like you are now… some lose their mind… and some even die if the possession is strong enough."
Kōki's breath caught as he tried to push the thought out, his chest tightening with the effort.
"But that wasn't the case with Kureha… she was possessed for years, and she was never sick—just tired. So you think… her spiritual awareness is high too…?"
"Hers is a different case… one even I can't explain. But one thing is sure—it took a heavy toll on her. I doubt she can recover quickly."
A quiet pull of breath moved through the receiver, followed by the soft crackle of Raikō's cigarette.
"Anyway… unless I read your ability wrong and you are weaker than I thought… or you were possessed twice in one day… it is only a normal cold. Please do not think too much."
Kōki hesitated, his fingers tightening around the phone as a faint breath escaped him.
"U-Um…"
A small shift of fabric came through the receiver, Raikō's tone steady and low.
"What is it."
Kōki drew in a shaky breath, his throat tightening as he tried to speak.
"I… I was actually possessed by Kureha's father… but it was for a good reason. Because of that… he was able to move on."
Raikō's voice suddenly burst through the speaker, the sharp volume stabbing at Kōki's ears.
He flinched, the sound pressing against his already aching head.
"You… reckless idiot! You cannot just go around letting ghosts possess you!"
Another breath pushed through the line—short, irritated, the kind that hit the microphone too close.
"Eat garlic. And drink some orange juice. It will make your recovery faster."
A faint click sounded as the line cut off, Raikō ending the call without another word.
"…H-He didn't have to shout like that…"
His voice came out thin, barely more than a breath, the sting in his ears still fading.
He let the phone rest on his chest, feeling his heartbeat thump sluggishly beneath it as the exhaustion dragged him deeper into the mattress.
Kōki blinked up at the ceiling, his vision blurring for a moment as the fever rolled through him.
A faint jolt of worry tightened in his chest.
"Wait… I… haven't seen Sayoko or Takuto anywhere since… I woke up…"
Kōki's eyes grew heavy, his breath slowing as the fever pulled him under.
His thoughts loosened one by one, slipping apart until he drifted into sleep.
A voice drifted through the haze, soft but close.
The shape of the young girl from the river appeared in front of him, her face almost clear—yet the sunlight behind her washed everything into a white blur.
Wake up…
His eyelids twitched.
He pushed them open halfway, the room tilting slightly in his unfocused vision.
A dull weight pressed behind his forehead as he turned his head toward the small clock on his desk.
1:00 PM.
Kōki pushed himself upright, his body moving slowly as a faint stiffness clung to his limbs.
He reached for the thermometer on the table, the cool plastic pressing under his arm as he settled back against the pillow.
A few quiet seconds passed.
He checked the display, his breath easing out in a small exhale.
"…Looks like my temperature is normal again…"
Kōki moved downstairs, each step soft against the floor as the lingering heaviness in his body slowly eased.
He reached the kitchen and pulled open the small container on the counter, taking out a whole clove of garlic.
He hesitated, then bit into it.
The sharp, burning taste spread across his tongue instantly, the smell hitting his nose at the same time.
"…Disgusting…"
Kōki's stomach growled, the sound echoing lightly in the quiet kitchen.
He turned toward the pot of porridge sitting on the stove.
A faint chill lingered around the pot from sitting out too long.
"My sister cannot cook… but her porridge is delicious…"
He lifted the lid.
The cool air inside slipped out toward his face, and the soft smell of rice reached him a moment later.
Kōki froze, the lid still in his hand.
A faint sound drifted through the kitchen—soft enough to blend with the quiet, yet clear enough to reach his ears.
Koki…
The voice called his name again, thin and distant, almost eerie in the still air.
Kōki stepped back in a rush, the movement jerking his arm and nearly tipping the pot.
The porridge sloshed inside, and he steadied it with a quick breath, his pulse rising.
"W-Who… who is that…?"
His voice came out thin, shaken.
He looked around the kitchen, his eyes moving from the doorway to the corners of the room.
"Sayoko…? Takuto…? This is not funny. I am sick here…"
"Kōki!!"
A sharp hit landed on his shoulder, the impact spreading through the muscle.
He flinched, gripping the counter as his balance slipped for a moment.
That voice—
His breath stopped.
"S…Sayoko…?"
He turned toward the sound, eyes scanning the empty space beside him.
No one was there.
"Finally you can hear me. I've been calling you all day, and you didn't answer. I thought you were ignoring me."
Sayoko's voice filled the space beside him—clear, close, and definitely hers.
"No, I wasn't ignoring you. Yesterday… because I got possessed, I think I got too drained. My senses were messed up."
Kōki rubbed the side of his head, sweat clinging to his skin.
"I still can't see you right now… but I can hear you. So maybe everything is slowly coming back."
His voice stayed low as he looked toward the empty space where her presence felt the strongest.