The morning sunlight spilled lazily into Itsuki's room. For a brief moment, as he sat up, he could almost believe that yesterday had been just another bad dream. The clinking of dishes and his mother's voice calling for breakfast grounded him back into something normal.
By the time he reached school, Haruta was already waving dramatically at the gates."ITSUKI-SAMA! The hero graces us with his presence at last!" he bellowed.
Itsuki groaned. "Do you ever stop?"
"Not when comedy is my gift to the world." Haruta puffed out his chest.
Noa appeared beside him, adjusting her scrunchie. "Good morning, Itsuki," she said with a soft smile.
His chest warmed despite himself. "Morning."
Haruta eyed him suspiciously. "That was… too natural. Too smooth. You two are hiding something."
"Like what?" Noa asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Like… like secret poetry dates under the cherry blossoms!" Haruta proclaimed.
Itsuki punched his arm lightly. Noa laughed—bright and unafraid, the sound slipping into Itsuki's ears and settling in his chest. For the first time in days, he laughed too.
Class was dull as ever. The teacher's monotone voice competed with the hum of the fan.
Halfway through, a folded paper landed on Itsuki's desk. He unfolded it to see Haruta's messy handwriting:
"A haiku to survive math:Numbers never end,Teacher's voice eats my soul whole—Please wake me at lunch."
Itsuki shook his head, hiding a smile. He glanced sideways; Haruta gave him a thumbs-up. Noa noticed too, covering her mouth to stifle her giggle.
At lunch, the three of them sat beneath the trees. Haruta told a wild story about nearly adopting a stray cat—only for it to scratch him and escape."You should've seen it," he insisted. "A beast, fangs sharp as swords!""It was probably a kitten," Noa teased."A feral demon disguised as a kitten!" Haruta corrected.
Noa laughed until her eyes watered. Itsuki couldn't look away. When her gaze finally met his, she smiled softly—this time just for him.
"See? You're smiling again," she said quietly.
He blinked, caught off guard. Heat crept into his cheeks. "…Maybe."
That smile stayed with him all the way home.
That evening, Itsuki sat at his desk. The book was there, closed but heavy, like it was waiting. He tried to ignore it. The ticking of the clock filled the silence.
6:59.
His heart beat faster.
7:00.
Silence.
The cicadas outside cut off mid-cry. Even the hum of electricity seemed to fade. The world froze.
The book trembled. Then it opened on its own, pages fluttering until they stopped. Ink bled across the paper:
"You can't keep ignoring me."
Knock.
Itsuki stiffened. The sound came from his window. Slowly, he turned his head. A pale outline stood outside the glass, too tall, too still, watching.
He couldn't breathe.
The knock came again—this time from the closet. Then the desk. Then under the bed.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sound circled him, faster and faster, until he pressed his hands over his ears. But it didn't stop. It was inside now, crawling through his head like whispers.
"Let me in."
The book's pages turned again, filling with symbols—circles, dots, shapes that seemed to move when he blinked.
And then—the air grew heavier.
Itsuki froze.
In the far corner of his room… a figure stood.
Tall. Dark. Motionless.
Its head tilted slightly, as if it was studying him.
His chest tightened. His body wouldn't move.
Step.
The figure shifted closer.
Step.
The shadow stretched across the floor, reaching toward his feet.
Itsuki's throat went dry. The clock ticked—but it didn't help this time.
The figure kept coming.
Until the darkness was only a breath away.
To be continued…