PART 2 — The Fear That Wasn't a Dream
The streets were calm in the early morning light.
Renjiro walked ahead with steady steps, Ayame and Kaito following beside him. The academy towers rose in the distance, their shadows stretching across the stone path as students slowly began to gather.
Neither Ayame nor Kaito spoke much. Kaito's hands were tucked into his pockets, his thoughts still tangled from the night before. Ayame walked quietly, her usual energy subdued but focused.
As they reached the academy gates, Renjiro stopped.
"That's as far as I go," he said, turning back toward them. "Don't cause trouble."
Ayame smiled lightly. "We won't."
Kaito gave a short nod. "See you later."
Renjiro watched as they walked through the gates, then turned and headed back down the street.
Inside the academy, the classroom buzzed with low voices and shuffling feet.
Haruki sat at his desk, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the entrance. His expression was tense—not angry, but unsettled. What had happened with Haruto yesterday still weighed on him, lingering in his thoughts.
The door slid open.
Ayame and Kaito stepped inside.
Haruki's gaze snapped toward them. For a brief moment, his shoulders stiffened—then his expression eased slightly as he watched them walk to their seats. Kaito and Ayame placed their bags down, the soft thud echoing in the room.
Haruki hesitated, then stood and walked over.
"…Where's Haruto?" he asked quietly.
Ayame looked up at him, calm. "He'll come late today. Don't worry—he's fine."
Haruki searched her face for a moment.
Then he let out a small breath and smiled, relieved. "I see. Thanks."
Without another word, he turned and returned to his seat.
Moments later, the classroom door slid open again.
Daigo entered, closing the door firmly behind him.
"All right," he said, his voice cutting through the room. "Take your seats."
The chatter died instantly.
"Attendance first."
The class settled into silence.
Meanwhile, at home
Akari was standing in the hall when—
The door upstairs flew open.
Footsteps slammed down the stairs.
"I don't want to die!"
She barely had time to turn before Haruto stumbled toward her. Blood dripped from him as he ran, his breath uneven, panic written across his face.
"I don't want to die!" he shouted again.
He crashed into her and wrapped his arms around her tightly, as if letting go would make everything end.
Akari caught him instinctively, holding him upright as his body trembled against hers.
"I don't want to die…" he choked, burying his face against her.
Akari tightened her grip, shock flashing through her eyes—but she didn't let him fall.
"I'm here," she said firmly, pulling him close. "You're not dying. I've got you."
Haruto clung to her, breathing hard, his fear spilling into the quiet hall as the house seemed to freeze around them.
Haruto's grip tightened.
Akari felt him shaking violently in her arms.
Only then did she notice it—
his left eye was shut tight, blood smeared across that side of his face, matting his lashes and soaking into his hair. Tears mixed with it as his shoulders rose and fell in broken breaths.
"Don't leave me, Aka…" he cried, his voice raw, desperate.
"I don't want to die… I don't want to die…"
Akari's heart lurched.
She cupped the back of his head, pressing him gently against her shoulder. "Hey—listen to me. I'm right here. I'm not leaving. You're safe, Haruto. You're safe."
Her words came fast, steady, even as her hands trembled.
"Breathe," she whispered. "Just breathe with me."
He tried.
But his sobs only grew weaker.
His grip slackened without warning.
"Haruto—?"
His body suddenly gave in.
Akari barely had time to react before his weight fell forward. She caught him, stumbling a step back, shock flashing across her face as she held him upright.
"Haruto!" she called, panic breaking through her calm.
But he didn't answer.
Unconscious, breathing shallowly, he hung in her arms—
the echo of his last words still ringing in the hall.
"I don't want to die…"
The house fell silent again.
And Akari realized—
Whatever Haruto had seen, it wasn't just a dream.
Akari moved fast.
She lowered Haruto onto the sofa, guiding him down carefully despite the fear tightening in her chest. She adjusted his position so he wouldn't slip, brushing the hair from his face once to be sure he was breathing.
He was.
Shallow—but steady.
"…Stay here," she whispered, more to herself than to him.
Then she turned and ran.
Her feet pounded up the stairs as she rushed into her room. The door slid open hard, the sudden motion stirring the still air inside.
Her eyes scanned the room instantly.
No broken windows.
No overturned furniture.
No sign of anyone else.
But then she saw it.
Blood.
Dark drops stained the floor, scattered unevenly, leading back toward the futon.
Akari stepped closer, her breath catching.
The blood wasn't spread like a struggle.
It started there.
Right at the edge of Haruto's futon.
She knelt slowly, fingers hovering just above the stain, her mind racing.
No footprints.
No marks.
No signs of an intruder.
Only the quiet room…
and proof that whatever happened to Haruto had begun while he was asleep.
Akari's steps were hurried as she rushed back downstairs, her heart still pounding from the shock of Haruto running into her.
Haruto lay slumped on the sofa, limp and trembling from the fainting spell. She knelt beside him, gently brushing his hair from his face.
"Haruto… stay with me," she murmured, her fingers lightly tracing his jaw, trying to rouse him without startling him.
She carefully checked his body for wounds—his arms, chest, and legs—but found nothing.
Nothing.
Except…
Blood.
A thin streak ran from his left eye, glistening in the morning light.
Akari froze, her mind racing.
What… could do this? she thought, tracing the edge of the stain without touching it. There's no cut… no mark… nothing on his skin. Why is it only his eye?
Her heart tightened. She had no answers, only a creeping dread that something was seriously wrong—something tied to Haruto himself.
She stayed there, silent, holding him gently, staring at his face. The house was quiet, but the unease in her chest refused to fade.
"…Haruto…" she whispered softly, more to herself than him, "…what happened to you?"
The front door slid open.
Akari looked up sharply.
Renjiro stepped inside, loosening his outer coat, his expression calm—until his eyes fell on the sofa.
He stopped.
"…I thought you both would be here when I got back," he said slowly. "You weren't on the way home."
Then he noticed Haruto.
Sleeping. Unnaturally still.
Renjiro's brows drew together as he stepped closer. "Why is Haruto sleeping in the hall?"
Akari stood, turning toward him. "He wasn't sleeping," she said quietly. "He ran down the stairs. Panicking."
Renjiro's gaze sharpened. "Panicking?"
"He was crying," Akari continued, her voice steady but tense. "Saying he didn't want to die. He collapsed into me and fainted right after."
Renjiro knelt beside the sofa at once, checking Haruto's breathing, his pulse—quick, practiced movements.
"No wounds," Akari added quickly. "I checked. Upstairs too. No one was there."
Renjiro paused. "Then the blood?"
Akari hesitated, then pointed gently. "Only his left eye. That's all I could find."
Renjiro's expression darkened slightly—not with fear, but concern.
"…An eye issue," he muttered, more to himself than to her.
"I don't know what it is," Akari said. "It started while he was asleep. The blood on the floor… it was near his futon."
Renjiro straightened slowly, looking down at Haruto's face.
"He's been under a lot of pressure," he said after a moment. "Too much, maybe."
Akari clenched her hands. "So this isn't normal."
"No," Renjiro replied. "But it's not something we ignore either."
He placed a blanket over Haruto, his tone firm but controlled.
"When he wakes up," Renjiro said, "we talk. Until then… let him rest."
Akari nodded, though the unease in her chest didn't fade.
Whatever was happening to Haruto—
It had already begun.