The street was silent when Rika stepped out of the cursed house. The moon hung pale and swollen above, casting thin light over the rotting gate and the weeds that clawed at the ground. Behind her, the house seemed to sigh, sagging inward as if relieved of its occupant—or mourning her loss.
Rika's chest still ached from the fight. The book on her back felt heavier than it ever had, its cover hot against her spine. She could feel Kayako inside, thrashing, twisting against the other voices already trapped there.
She muttered under her breath, "Quiet."
The voices hushed. The weight pressed deeper.
And then she realized she wasn't alone.
Two figures stood at the edge of the street, illuminated faintly by a flickering lamppost. One was a tall man in a long coat, his arms crossed loosely, his posture too calm for someone standing outside a haunted house. His eyes gleamed sharp beneath the shadow of his hat.
Beside him stood a girl no older than fifteen, her dark hair tied in twin braids, her eyes wide and unblinking. Unlike the man, she stared directly at Rika. Or rather—at the book glowing faintly behind her back.
The girl whispered, her voice soft but clear. "She has it, Keizo. The book."
Rika froze. Her blood ran cold.
No one was supposed to see it. Not unless she allowed them. And yet the girl's gaze did not waver.
The man—Keizo—stepped forward, his boots crunching softly against gravel. His voice was smooth, almost casual, but carried a weight that pressed on her ears.
"So it's true," he said. "The Book of Seals. I'd heard whispers, rumors. But I never thought I'd see it in the hands of a… girl."
Rika's eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"
"Names first, hm? Fair enough." He gave a shallow bow, though his smirk never softened. "Keizo. Ghost hunter. And this—" he gestured to the girl, "—is Tamao. She sees what others cannot."
Tamao tilted her head. "They're screaming," she whispered. Her voice trembled not with fear, but with eerie detachment. "All the ghosts. Trapped. They don't like it in there."
Rika's fingers twitched. Her instinct screamed to pull the book deeper into hiding, to bend reality until it vanished from their eyes. But it didn't work. They could still see.
"You shouldn't be here," Rika said flatly.
Keizo chuckled. "Neither should you, yet here we are. That house—" he tilted his head toward the gate, "—has chewed and spat out more hunters than I care to count. Yet you walk out alive, carrying its ghost like a trophy." He took another step closer. "So tell me, girl… how many are inside that book of yours? Ten? Twenty? A hundred?"
Rika said nothing.
But the silence was answer enough.
Tamao's unblinking eyes darted across the invisible spine of the tome. "So many faces," she whispered. "So many hands, scratching, begging. Some are crying. Some are laughing."
Her voice lowered, chillingly calm. "Some want to eat her."
Rika's jaw tightened.
Keizo studied her a moment longer. Then his smirk faded, replaced with something colder. "That thing you carry—it's not just a prison. It's a curse. You think you're sealing ghosts, girl, but one day the book will open, and then you'll realize who's really in control."
Rika's pulse quickened. His words sank deeper than she wanted to admit. For a fleeting moment, she remembered Kayako's resistance, the way the book itself had trembled as if afraid.
But she forced her voice steady. "It's mine to control."
Keizo arched a brow. "Is it?" He glanced at Tamao, who was still staring at Rika's back. "Tell me, do they ever whisper to you? Late at night? Do they tell you things you don't want to hear? Because if they do, then you're not their master." He paused. "You're their jailer. And jailers always fall with their prisons."
Rika's breath caught.
He was too close to the truth.
The silence stretched, heavy as iron. The lamppost above flickered once, twice, then buzzed out, plunging them into darkness.
For a moment, the only sound was Tamao's soft humming. A lullaby. Old. Unsettling.
Rika shifted her stance. Her hand brushed the book, the glow flaring faintly. "If you're here to take it, you'll fail."
Keizo smiled again, sharp and dangerous. "Take it? No. Not yet. If you've truly captured Kayako Saeki, then you're either very foolish… or very powerful. Either way, I want to see how long you last."
His coat swayed as he turned, the girl following close behind. But as he walked away, he called over his shoulder:
"The book doesn't belong to you, girl. It never did. And when the time comes, you'll either give it up… or it'll take you with it."
Rika's fists tightened at her sides.
She wanted to chase him, to demand answers, to rip the smirk off his face. But the book pressed against her back, heavy, restless, whispering in a chorus of voices that made her stomach twist.
She stood rooted, staring at the place where Keizo and Tamao vanished into the night.
For the first time, she realized—
The book was no longer just her secret.
And that made her more vulnerable than ever.