The alarm rang, echoing through the walls of Itsuki's room as the clock struck 6 a.m. before he stretched his arm to turn it off.
He lay there motionless, eyes wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling like a lifeless corpse.
He wasn't sure what to do anymore.
In just a matter of weeks, his life had twisted into something he could barely recognize — death visions, cryptic dreams, demons, and a girl who knew far more than she was willing to let out. And at the center of it all was him — simply watching as everything unfolded around him, powerless to stop it.
Eventually, he sat up.
"So glad tomorrow's the weekend," he muttered under his breath.
He pushed himself to his feet and walked toward the bathroom door.
Over time, Itsuki had developed a strange habit — he no longer overthought the dreams. No matter how vivid they were, no matter how strange, he refused to dwell on them. Every time he closed his eyes, it was the same thing — the throne, the tree, the man sharpening the dagger. And even though the dream shifted, even though new elements appeared, it didn't matter. It was something he had no control over, and he'd accepted that.
As he got ready for school, his mind still spun through countless possibilities —
"How can I save her?'
He thought of following his mother everywhere once the rainy season began. Maybe making sure she never tied her hair up again.
Or perhaps… he could just quit school altogether and work full-time at the restaurant.
He knew she wouldn't object.
His mother only ever wanted one thing — his happiness.
But that wasn't the only thought gnawing at him. So many small, confusing details lingered in the back of his mind in all that had happened the last week— things he couldn't piece together. Things that would've driven a normal person insane.
He pushed them aside, he had decided to take things one issue at a time.
Standing beside his bed, he adjusted his tie, then slipped his headphones into his bag and slung it over his shoulder.
The time read a little past 7 a.m.
He didn't usually go to school this early — but sleeping in wasn't an option. Not when the dreams waited behind closed eyes. Not when thinking too long meant reliving what had happened yesterday.
He descended the stairs, his movements slow and heavy. At the counter, a lunchbox sat waiting — neatly packed, as always.
"She's probably working even earlier shifts now," he murmured, sliding it into his bag before leaving the house.
The morning air of Tokyo felt… different.
The sun hung low behind thin clouds, the streets lined with golden light that reflected off the damp pavement. People walked briskly past him — students, salarymen, the morning rush blending into one constant hum. But something about the air carried a strange heaviness.
Itsuki couldn't explain it, but it was there.
He boarded the train, the rhythmic clatter of the tracks filling the silence inside him. His reflection on the glass window looked pale, tired — eyes sunken, distant.
When he arrived at school, he noticed there were more students than usual at the gate.
"Guess that means I'm actually early' he thought with a faint sigh.
He stepped into the classroom, eyes facing forward. Amane sat at her usual spot by the window, her attention buried in a book. He caught a glimpse of her — then looked away. He couldn't care less at the moment.
As he sat down, his gaze lifted toward the new teacher who had been introduced a few days ago.
"I wonder what really happened to Mr. Renji,' he thought. "Last I remember, we left him after Amane got rid of the demon attached to him…'
The teacher was setting up her materials at the front of the room. Meanwhile, Amane barely looked up from her reading, her expression as unreadable as ever.
Itsuki remained quiet. He didn't bother putting his headphones on — he knew what might happen if he did. Seeing demons was the last thing he wanted right now.
He had thought once about testing it, just to see if it was coincidence or something else. But now, even the thought of seeing those abominations again made his skin crawl.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully. He barely paid attention to classes, drifting in and out of his own thoughts.
By the time the final bell rang, he was already packed and gone — still without saying a single word to Amane.
He moved through the station crowd with his hands buried in his pockets, boarded the train, and sank into the seat by the window.
"I should probably start wearing gloves. They could save me from doing this all the time.'
When he finally reached his stop, the evening sky had slowly began to soften into a deep blue.
The Tokyo air carried a faint warmth, brushed with a gentle chill — that perfect in-between where the day hasn't quite let go and night was soon arriving.
He took the familiar walk home. The same streets. The same turns.
"Yesterday was… quite the eventful one,' he said with a weak smirk as he unlocked the door when he had gotten home.
Inside, everything was quiet. Peaceful, even.
He climbed the stairs, dropped his bag on the floor, and threw himself onto the bed. The softness of the mattress wrapped around him like a brief escape.
Tomorrow was the weekend, He could finally sleep in.
So when his eyes grew heavy, he didn't resist. He let them close.
****
Itsuki shot up from bed, gasping for air, chest heaving as his breathing came quick and uneven.
"The fucking dream again.'
No matter how many times he saw it — no matter how familiar it became — the fear, the anxiety, the dread always stayed the same.
He turned his head toward the clock.
5:24 a.m.
"What are the odds…" he muttered, voice low and dry.
He stretched his arms out, then lay back down, eyes fixed on the ceiling as the silence of the early morning filled the room.