Miko Yotsuya was an ordinary high-school girl living an ordinary life—at least, that's what everyone thought.
Every morning, she woke up to the sound of her alarm, complained about school, and walked the same quiet streets of her town. She liked simple things: warm food, her phone, and peace. Nothing special. Nothing strange.
But one morning, something changed.
The First Encounter
Miko woke up suddenly, as if someone had called her name.
The room was dark. Too dark.
Her phone showed 6:12 a.m.
The air felt thick, damp, and unnaturally cold—like the warmth had been sucked out of the space while she slept.
She blinked.
And then she saw it.
Something was standing beside her bed.
Not floating.
Not transparent.
Standing. Solid. Real.
Its body was bent at the wrong angles, as if its bones had softened and collapsed inward. Its face was human once—she could tell—but time had erased all kindness from it. The eyes were wide open yet empty, like deep holes leading nowhere. The mouth trembled, opening and closing slightly, producing a wet, breathing sound.
Miko's mind went completely blank.
Her heart slammed violently against her ribs.
Her lungs forgot how to breathe.
She wanted to scream—but her throat locked.
She wanted to run—but her body wouldn't move.
The thing leaned forward.
So close that its hair brushed her blanket.
She could smell it.
A sour, rotting smell—like damp clothes left in darkness for years.
Then it spoke.
Its voice was broken.
Slow.
Wrong.
"Can… you… see… me?"
Miko understood something in that instant—something instinctive, something ancient:
If she answered, she would not survive.
Her eyes stared straight ahead.
She did not scream.
She did not react.
She did not blink.
Minutes passed.
The thing tilted its head slowly, studying her face, searching for fear.
Finally, it pulled back.
Its body dissolved into the shadows of the room, leaving behind only silence.
Only then did Miko collapse, gasping for air, tears streaming down her face.
That morning, her normal life ended.