The clock ticked.7:00 PM.
Itsuki sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the book. The same book that had haunted him for weeks now. Its cover was still, its pages closed, but the air was heavier — like the world itself was waiting.
He swallowed. His throat was dry."…What do you want from me?" he muttered under his breath, though no one was there to hear.
And then—The book flipped open. Pages rustled on their own, faster and faster, before stopping at a blank sheet.
Words bled onto the page."You are not alone."
Itsuki's pulse hammered. He should run. He should scream. But his legs wouldn't move.
The light flickered. The shadows in the corner stretched, twisting into something long, thin… human.
A figure emerged.Tall. Slender. Its face blurred, unreadable, yet eyes—empty and endless—bored into him.
Itsuki's lips parted, breath shallow. "...You…"
The figure tilted its head, as if amused. Then—"I am your friend."
The voice wasn't loud. It wasn't soft. It was inside him. Crawling through his mind like it had always been there.
Itsuki staggered back, hitting the desk. "No… you're not real."
The figure stepped closer. The floor creaked though it left no trace, no shadow, no sound beyond that whisper in his skull.
"Why deny me? You called me. You needed me."
Memories flashed—his loneliness, nights spent staring at ceilings, the weight of silence pressing in.Hadn't he wished for someone? Anyone?
"No…" Itsuki's voice cracked. "I didn't… I…"
The figure crouched low, its featureless face inches from his. If it had a mouth, it would be smiling."You and I… are the same."
Itsuki's knees buckled. He clutched his head, shaking. The room spun, lights dimming, whispers clawing at every corner.
The last thing he saw was that figure—arms open, waiting—before everything went black.
Itsuki collapsed.
To be continued…