If Aiko kept heading down this path, something terrible was bound to happen.
Niwa Shino couldn't stop thinking about it.
What on earth was Miss Saikyō doing? Her daughter's condition had obviously been dreadful for months, yet as a mother she seemed shockingly indifferent.
And those people she associated with—weren't they from some suspicious cult?
Damn it… she couldn't let Aiko fall into their hands. Not that sweet, broken girl.
Yes—money. She could quietly give Aiko some cash and tell her to go to the countryside for a while, just until things settled.
If she couldn't reason with Miss Saikyō, then this would be the only way.
Kindhearted as ever, Niwa Shino could think of nothing else. She was frightened, of course, but her compassion overrode her fear—she couldn't stand by and watch things spiral any further.
But it had been days—no sign of either of them. Had she shown up too late?
Her anxiety grew unbearable. Then, earlier that evening, she'd heard movement inside the supposedly empty apartment—and rushed over at once.
She knocked and waited. Silence.
Just as she was about to pound harder, ready to bring the police if no one answered—
Click.
The door opened a sliver.
Saikyō Aiko peeked out, revealing half her face, her expression shy and hesitant.
Shino relaxed instinctively. The small landlady was a strikingly adorable woman—soft brown curls framed her round cheeks, her lips plush and pink like something out of a candy commercial.
She was wearing childish pastel pajamas—pink-lavender with cartoon cat slippers that barely fit her tiny feet. Wrapped in all that fluff, she looked more like an elementary schooler in costume than a proper adult.
And yet, beneath all that girlishness, she carried the warm, maternal air of a dependable grown woman—someone who could, in another life, have become a doting "loli-mama."
Sure enough, the moment she saw Aiko, her face brightened with genuine relief.
"A-ah… Aiko! Thank goodness. Oh, you poor girl—I'm so glad you're safe."
"You must've had a hard time lately—you look so thin."
She stepped closer, half on tiptoe, to pat Aiko's cheek—then froze mid-air.
Aiko's body was mostly hidden behind the door. Only her face, neck, and a sliver of bare shoulder were visible—pale, glistening, damp.
Her cheeks flushed deep red; damp strands of hair clung to the corners of her slightly swollen lips.
Shino blinked, face turning pink in embarrassment.
"O-oh—sorry, sorry! You were in the bath, weren't you? I'm intruding at a bad time!"
"It's fine… really, Shino-san… there's nothing wro—ah!"
Her words caught in her throat.
A strange sound escaped her lips—half gasp, half whimper. Her whole body jolted sharply, as if she'd just jumped on tiptoe.
"What—what's the matter? Are you hurt?"
Concern flashed across Shino's face. She grabbed the doorframe, trying to push it open and check inside.
"No! No—nothing's wrong!"
Aiko clutched the door desperately, holding it shut with all her strength. She stood rigid, trembling, trying not to betray herself—trying to keep her expression still while some unseen force threatened to expose her.
She forced out a weak smile.
"I… I just stubbed my toe, that's all. It's fine, really."
"Oh, that must hurt! You sure it's not broken? I've heard that can happen even with a little toe."
"It… it doesn't hurt anymore."
Shino frowned, suspicion dawning. Something was off.
"Then why," she asked slowly, "are you out of breath? Your face is so red… are you overheating? You look exhausted."
"I was… exercising," Aiko blurted. "You know—fitness training and all that. Got a little carried away, I guess."
"That smell, though…" Shino sniffed lightly. "It's strange. Almost… metallic?"
"D-don't be silly! I've been sweating a bit, that's all. Must be the, uh… scent of feminine hormones, maybe?"
"I… see."
Shino's gaze lowered to the girl's trembling hands, her slick skin, the way she swayed slightly as if fighting to stay upright. Sweat—or something like it—glistened down her collarbones. Even her voice trembled, disjointed, one breath away from breaking.
The little landlady's frown deepened. Worry won over propriety.
"You're lying," she said softly, a spark of resolve lighting her voice. "Let me see what's really going—"
Her hand darted forward, quick as a whip, catching Aiko's wrist before she could react.
For one brief second, contact.
Then Shino gasped—and yanked her hand back instantly.
She froze. Her eyes blanked, lips parted.
Her pale fingers were coated in a thick, translucent substance—warm, sticky, clinging like sap.
She stared at it, her thoughts short-circuiting.
What… what on earth did I just touch?
It felt like a human wrist—but slippery, unnaturally warm, pulsing faintly with a life of its own.
Her mind reeled—no shape, no word, no frame of reference could fit the sensation.
What was that thing!?
For several seconds, she just stood there, expression stunned into emptiness. Then she straightened, her face shifting slowly back into a gentle, motherly smile—like a machine rebooting mid-glitch.
"I see," she murmured. "You really should be careful not to overdo your workouts."
It was impossible to tell whether she'd truly calmed down… or if her mind had simply given up on comprehension altogether.
At least she still looked kind. Dependable.
Skipping past the awkwardness, Shino lifted her chin—her dainty features hardening into determination.
"Aiko, where's your mother? I need to speak with Miss Saikyō about something important."
"Oh—uh—it's rent, isn't it?" Aiko stammered, biting her lip, a tremor passing through her mid-sentence. "I'm sorry—could I have a few more days? I really—ah!—I mean—it really hurts—my toe again—heheh…"
"It's not just about rent," Shino said firmly. "It's more serious. I need to see her in person."
I can't let that irresponsible woman destroy this poor child, she thought.
Her voice softened, but her resolve did not. She darted a glance toward the hallway, then mouthed soundlessly to Aiko—
"If you want to run, I'll help you."
Aiko froze.
She hadn't expected that.
Niwa Shino—a mere outsider—was reaching out to her, ready to risk everything.
Despite surely sensing the danger, this gentle woman had come anyway, driven by justice, compassion, and foolish courage.
Something warm welled up in Aiko's chest.
Her lips curved—into a smile both fragile and bittersweet.
Her body trembled again, swaying as though caught in an invisible current.
"Sorry, Shino-san…" she said softly. "My mother's gone missing. Probably ran off with some guy by now."
Her tone was light, almost playful. But her use of Shino-san—not "Shino-neesan," the affectionate older-sister address—distanced them.
If she accepted that kindness, if she drew this innocent woman in any deeper, she would destroy her.
Aiko knew exactly what she had become—and how she would drag the good down with her if they stayed too close.
Even now, wrapped in her corrupted bliss, she understood:
Happiness like hers could only ever exist in madness.
And a woman like Niwa Shino didn't deserve to go mad.
Her voice turned soft and almost sleepy, drifting with that dangerous cadence of surrender.
"As for rent," she added, "I'll have it ready soon."
"So goodbye. I'm… enjoying life, you see. Please don't disturb me again."
BANG.
The door slammed.
Before Shino could react, a sound reached her—something thick, slick, almost rhythmic. It vibrated through the wall—a mixture of wet suction, muffled impacts, and obscene resonance.
It wasn't something human ears could meaningfully recognize or imagine. It was too much—beyond the sense of sound, as though reality itself were being scraped inside-out.
Every muscle in Shino's body locked.
Her hand twitched toward the door—but a primal warning screamed through her mind.
If she knocked again, if she interrupted whatever was happening inside,
something unspeakably wrong would follow.
Her heart pounded against her ribs as she stepped back—then turned and ran.
She couldn't explain why.
Just as she couldn't explain the blush burning across her cheeks, or the faint shimmer in her tear-filled eyes.
Some nameless emotion churned inside her—strange and heavy, like the feeling of hearing a wondrous story just before falling into a dream, only for it to end mid-sentence.
And as she fled down the hall, one thought lingered like a half-remembered echo:
Inside Aiko's room…
what exactly was hiding there?