ziya

the light from the window streamed in, casting a warm glow over the kitchen, and you felt the kind of peace that only mornings could bring. the fridge door opened, the sound of its cool hum adding to the quiet atmosphere.

you were reaching for the salt when you heard it—the tv—murmuring softly from the living room.

you paused for a second, not remembering leaving it on, but the noise was there. you tilted your head in curiosity, not thinking much of it at first.

you walked into the living room, plate in hand, setting it down on the coffee table as you turned the volume up on the tv.

the news was on.

"breaking news," the newscaster’s voice was serious, cutting through the calm of the room. "police are investigating a tragic incident that occurred last night. two people were found murdered in their home, a couple in their early thirties, both victims of a brutal attack."

your stomach twisted, the words sinking in before you could process them.

you stood frozen for a moment, the tv light flickering in the dim room as the anchor’s voice continued.

"a third person, a woman, was attacked during the same time, but she managed to escape the house. she was found near the scene, but she’s currently in the hospital receiving treatment for serious injuries."

your hand tightened around the arm of the couch, your heart starting to race.

the anchor went on, but you couldn’t focus on her words anymore. you felt an unease creep up your spine, a coldness that you couldn’t shake.

you turned your head toward the window, peering through the blinds to see the quiet neighborhood outside. everything seemed normal, just like any other day. the streets were empty, the morning light filtering through the trees.

how could something like that happen so close?

you turned your attention back to the tv, where the screen was showing images of the house—the one where the murders had occurred. flashing red and blue lights filled the frame, along with yellow police tape.

you didn't know why, but something about the way the anchor spoke made everything feel too real, too close.

you stood there, staring at the tv, trying to absorb the words, but then—

clatter.

you jumped.

the sharp sound of something falling echoed through the house, and you spun around, eyes wide. your breath caught in your throat.

what was that?

your pulse quickened as you strained your ears, listening for any other sounds.

there it was again—a crash, followed by something heavy hitting the floor.

someone else was here?

your heart raced faster now, and a thousand thoughts flooded your mind. who could be in the house? had something happened?

you moved quickly, your feet almost stumbling as you stepped toward the hallway, your body tense with anxiety.

was someone in trouble?

you peeked cautiously into the hallway, every instinct telling you to be quiet, to stay low. the house was quiet again, save for the soft hum of the fridge and the faint sound of the tv continuing in the background.

the noise had stopped for a moment, but your heart was still pounding in your chest.

you felt a rush of cold air as you moved toward the kitchen, eyes darting around for any sign of movement. you half-expected to see someone standing there, but the hallway remained still.

you took another step forward, your mind racing. then, from down the hallway, you heard a familiar voice call out.

"hey, sorry about that. I dropped something in the garage."

you blinked, relief washing over you as you recognized the voice. it was your dad.

your shoulders sagged in relief, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

"you scared the life out of me," you said under your breath, your heart still thumping in your chest.

the thought of someone else being in the house had made your stomach drop. you’d never considered it before, but that feeling of vulnerability had hit you hard.

you walked back toward the kitchen, still trying to steady your breathing.

your dad was clumsy sometimes, especially when he was in a rush.

another few moments passed, and then he appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel.

"everything okay?" he asked, glancing at the tv.

you nodded quickly, still a little shaken from the scare.

"yeah. just heard a noise, that’s all."

he chuckled, shrugging it off. "you sure it wasn’t the house settling? this old place has a way of making strange sounds."

you weren’t so sure. but you didn’t feel like explaining the panic that had gripped you when the sound first hit.

"yeah, probably," you said, your voice a little quieter now.

you felt the unease still sitting in your chest, but it was fading. the reality of the news had shaken you more than you wanted to admit. the idea of violent crime so close to home was unsettling.

you glanced over at the screen again, where the news had moved on to another update. the images of flashing lights and police tape still lingered, a reminder of the tragedy.

"authorities say the woman who was found dead had her eyes hollowed out, and her intestines were spilling out of her body. the scene was described as unspeakable by the first responders."

your breath caught in your throat, the words sinking into your chest like a heavy weight.

the air around you seemed to thicken, and your heartbeat quickened again, as though the terror was creeping closer, making everything in the room feel wrong.

"police are still trying to piece together what happened, but they have no suspects at this time. it’s unclear whether this was a targeted attack or if there’s any connection between the victims."

your hands were trembling now, and the sharp, gruesome image of the woman’s mutilated body was burned into your mind. the thought of her eyes hollowed out, her insides spilling out onto the floor, made your stomach twist.

no, no, no.

you couldn’t take it.

without thinking, you rushed over to the remote, slamming it to turn off the tv. the sudden silence felt suffocating, like the weight of the world had just settled on your shoulders.

you stood there, feeling like you might suffocate under the heavy quiet.

your heart was pounding, but it felt distant, muffled.

you couldn’t process what you’d just heard. it was too much. too real. too close.

you shook your head, trying to clear the images from your mind.

your hands were still shaking as you turned away from the tv and walked down the hallway toward your bedroom.

the house felt different now, the walls pressing in on you as though they were closing in.

you opened your bedroom door and stumbled inside, quickly pulling the blankets over yourself. you curled up in a tight ball, trying to escape the weight of the world outside.

you closed your eyes, hoping to shut it all out, but the horrific images of the woman’s body kept flashing behind your eyelids.

how could something like that happen?

you clutched the sheets tighter, hoping for sleep to come and take you far away from the horrible reality you’d just heard.

the next morning, you woke up feeling surprisingly okay. the tight knot in your stomach from the previous night had loosened, and the heaviness that had pressed against your chest seemed to have lifted. the events of the news broadcast were still there in the back of your mind, but they didn’t weigh you down as much today.

you got ready quickly, dressing in your usual school uniform, the routine offering a sense of normalcy. your head was clear, your body no longer frozen with the tension from yesterday. you felt... fine.

once you arrived at school, the buzz of your friends chatting in the hallway made you feel a little lighter. their voices were a comforting reminder that life went on, even when the world seemed to be upside down.

you found your usual spot by the lockers, where Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko were all hanging out, chatting casually. Satoru, as always, was animated, talking with his hands as he laughed about something one of the teachers had said.

Shoko was leaning against the lockers, her arms crossed, looking relaxed but still keeping an eye on the conversation. Suguru stood a little off to the side, his presence calm and steady, but his eyes had a sharper edge to them, like he was always watching, always calculating.

Nanami was there too, but he was standing a little away from the group, his hands tucked into the pockets of his blazer, his gaze distant. He never seemed to engage too much with the group, always a little closed off, but he was a solid presence.

you walked up to them, feeling the weight of their attention shift to you. Satoru flashed you a grin, his usual cocky smile in full force.

"hey, you!" he said, his voice loud and cheerful. "how’s the morning treating you? no nightmares about the news, I hope?"

you managed a small smile, trying to push away the lingering thoughts of the gruesome report from last night. "i’m fine. a little shaken up, but it’s all good now."

Suguru’s gaze flickered over to you for a moment, his expression unreadable, but his eyes softened slightly. "good to hear," he said quietly.

Shoko raised an eyebrow, her usual deadpan expression showing she wasn’t quite convinced. "are you sure? if it’s bothering you, you don’t have to hide it."

you shook your head, not wanting to dwell on it. "no, really, I’m fine. just... weird news, you know?"

Nanami, who had been mostly quiet, gave a small nod, though his face remained impassive. "it’s not easy to shake off," he said in his low, calm voice, as if he was speaking from experience.

Satoru waved a hand dismissively, clearly trying to lighten the mood. "you’re tough. nothing to worry about. besides, we’ve got bigger problems."

"like what?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as Satoru dramatically gestured toward Suguru and Shoko.

"well," he said, grinning, "i’m trying to figure out what the hell happened to Suguru’s hair. he’s looking a little too neat today. is there some kind of secret salon trip I don’t know about?"

Suguru rolled his eyes, clearly used to Satoru’s antics. "it’s called 'taking care of yourself,’ Gojo," he muttered, brushing his hair back with one hand.

"taking care of yourself, huh?" Satoru’s grin widened. "sounds like a lot of effort for someone who can barely stay awake in class."

Shoko laughed softly, though it was more of a smirk than anything else. "we all have our quirks. let the man have his pride."

you chuckled quietly, feeling your anxiety from earlier start to melt away as the group bantered. It was familiar, comforting. they had a way of making everything seem normal, even when it wasn’t.

Satoru, ever the attention-seeker, suddenly interrupted the flow of the conversation with a dramatic gesture. "alright, alright, but listen up—if you’re all gonna keep bringing up the news about those murders, I’m just gonna throw a party to get the tension out of the air." He grinned like a madman, throwing his arms wide. "come on, we can all celebrate surviving the horror of it all!"

you froze, eyes widening slightly. "a party? you’re seriously thinking about a party after hearing all that?" you felt the pit in your stomach tighten again, though you tried to push it away. the idea of some brutal killings happening nearby wasn’t exactly conducive to having fun.

Suguru, walking a few steps ahead, shot a quick glance back at Satoru. "god, you’re such an idiot," he muttered under his breath, though it lacked the usual venom. His gaze softened as he met your eyes, though the concern didn’t quite escape him. "are you really okay with all this, though? i mean, those details... it’s pretty messed up."

you hesitated, biting your lip. "it’s just... i don’t know. i’m kind of freaked out." you tried to sound nonchalant, but it was hard to ignore the anxious feeling creeping up on you again. "i don’t think I could go to a party and just act like everything’s fine. I mean, what if it’s someone we know next time?"

Satoru, ever the jokester, slung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side with a grin. "don’t worry about it," he said, tone light but his grin a little too wide. "I’ll protect you, y’know? you’ve got gojo satoru looking out for you."

you rolled your eyes, trying not to laugh despite the fear still gnawing at the back of your mind. "oh yeah? you protecting me?" you raised an eyebrow skeptically. "you’d probably get us both killed just trying to dodge an attack."

"pfft," Satoru scoffed. "i don’t know whether to be insulted or flattered, but fine, i’ll keep you safe. just don’t worry, alright? i’ve got this."

Suguru, who had been walking slightly ahead of you both, turned around with an exaggerated groan. "ugh, get a room already. you two are way too touchy-feely." He made a gagging noise, clearly mocking Satoru’s over-the-top theatrics.

you couldn’t help but laugh a little at their bickering. despite the tension in the air, it felt familiar. It felt safe.

Nanami, who had been mostly quiet throughout the exchange, finally spoke up from where he had been leaning against the locker. "I don’t think a party is a good idea right now," he said, his voice steady, almost grim. "those murders are too close for comfort, and there’s no telling what could happen next. people are getting hurt. it might be a better idea to lay low for a while."

Satoru waved him off with an exaggerated flick of his hand. "oh, come on, Nanami. do you really think those guys are gonna come for us?" He laughed loudly, practically dismissing the possibility. "we’re in school, not some crime scene. they’re not gonna show up here."

Suguru raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "don’t be so sure, satoru," he said, his tone a little more serious than before. "just because it’s quiet now doesn’t mean something’s not lurking around the corner."

you glanced at the group, their usual joking tone taking on a slightly more uneasy edge. despite Satoru’s overconfidence, you could tell that, deep down, they weren’t as careless about the situation as they were letting on.

"maybe we should just focus on getting through the day and... not think about it too much," you said, trying to bring some calm to the conversation. "there’s nothing we can do about it now, and worrying isn’t going to help."

Satoru flashed you another grin, the usual playful gleam in his eye. "exactly! we’ll deal with whatever comes next when it comes. until then, party time! just wait. i’ll have the best one ever."

Suguru rolled his eyes at him but didn’t say anything more. instead, he just gave you a soft nod, signaling that he understood.

the bell rang then, signaling the start of the day, and the group of you began to head toward your classes. as you walked away from the group, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still off.

you and the group walked up to Satoru’s house, the familiar sight of his front door looming in front of you. the sound of music and laughter floated out from inside, along with a faint buzz of conversation. the party had already begun, and as always, Satoru’s parties were known for being... loud.

Satoru led the way, the slight rustling of his ghost outfit trailing behind him as he walked. his costume—much like the one you saw earlier—was a white sheet, with the eyes and mouth of a ghost drawn sloppily on the front. there was a hood, and a wide grin stretched across his face, making him look a little less "haunting" and a lot more goofy. in his hands, he carried a small, pumpkin-shaped bucket, as if he were trick-or-treating.

"how spooky," Suguru muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes, but a slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"this is classic, man," Satoru said, puffing his chest out and lifting the bucket higher, as if it were a trophy. "ghosts are the backbone of Halloween. everyone knows that."

you chuckled softly at his ridiculousness, though you could tell Suguru wasn’t as amused. Nanami, ever the stoic one, just kept his usual deadpan expression as he followed along in his Goth Detective costume, trench coat billowing slightly behind him.

Shoko, with her cat ears and tail, gave you a playful wink as she walked past, clearly enjoying the attention her low-effort but iconic look was getting.

once you stepped into the house, the first thing you noticed was the music—it was loud, the bass from the speakers vibrating through the floor. people were scattered around, drinking, talking, laughing, but their faces were blurred by the noise. most of them were strangers to you, and you quickly lost interest in their antics, the party already feeling chaotic.

"here we go!" Satoru shouted over the noise, his voice booming, though it was lost among the partygoers. he pushed past the crowd, leading you through the hallway toward the back of the house where he’d set up a small area for the group.

Suguru raised an eyebrow as they passed a few of Satoru’s other guests—most of whom were already caught up in their own little worlds. some were dancing, some were chatting, others were in their own groups. they barely took notice of you as you made your way deeper into the house.

"this is... intense," you muttered under your breath, trying to get a feel for the atmosphere. it was more chaotic than you expected, and despite the loud music and the buzz of conversation, you couldn’t help but feel a little out of place.

Satoru, of course, didn’t seem to mind the disarray. he led you through the crowd and into the back room, where he had a little table set up with snacks and drinks.

"make yourself at home,” Satoru said, flopping down onto a couch. he was quick to settle in, his ghost costume billowing around him like a sheet in the wind. "enjoy the party, guys! i’m sure it’ll be legendary."

Shoko rolled her eyes as she plopped down next to him, tossing her phone onto the coffee table. "i can already tell this is going to get out of hand."

you took a seat nearby, still trying to shake off the lingering nerves from earlier in the day. despite the carefree chatter around you, the thought of the murders still weighed on your mind.

Satoru leaned over to you, a grin still plastered on his face. "hey, don’t worry. i’ll protect you, promise," he said, his voice far too chipper for the context. he dramatically placed his hand over his heart. "no ghost or ghoul is going to touch you when i’m around."

Suguru, who had been standing by the door with his arms crossed, gave an exaggerated gagging noise. "please," he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "shut up, satoru. you two sound like you belong in some cheesy romance movie."

Nanami, who had been standing at the far end of the room, took a slow drag from his unlit cigarette, his gaze focused on the dance floor. "this isn’t a good idea," he said flatly. "parties don’t exactly scream safety, especially with what’s been happening."

Satoru waved him off with a flick of his wrist, leaning back into the couch dramatically. "nah, man. they’re not gonna come for us," he said, still grinning. "it’s Halloween! we’re safe in here with all this noise. no way anyone’s coming to mess with us."

Suguru raised an eyebrow, but didn’t argue further. Nanami just exhaled a puff of air and shook his head, turning his attention back to the crowd.

you couldn’t help but feel a little comforted by Satoru’s words, even if his carefree attitude made you a bit uneasy. tonight was supposed to be about fun, and maybe that’s exactly what you needed.

as the music shifted to a faster beat, the rest of the group settled in, each of you finding a spot among the chaos, ready to let go of the tension of the past few days—even if just for a little while.

the night buzzed on with the energy of the party growing by the minute. the loud music, the chatter, the clinking of glasses—it was all a blur of chaos and fun. you found yourself sitting back on the couch, trying to shake off the last remnants of your earlier unease, letting the moment of normalcy wash over you.

satoru was already cracking open a drink he found somewhere, his ghost sheet puffing around him with every movement. he grinned mischievously, clearly enjoying himself.

shoko, who had been eyeing the drinks for a while now, stood up and stretched lazily. "alright, i think it's time to bring out the good stuff." she glanced around at the group, her eyes flicking to the table piled with snacks. "where's the alcohol?"

satoru pointed dramatically toward the door, then down. "it’s in the wine cellar in the basement," he said, his grin widening. "help yourself."

"wine cellar, huh?" shoko raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by the idea of going on a little hunt for the alcohol. "i’ll be back before you know it." with that, she strolled off toward the basement, her black cat tail swaying behind her with every step.

you watched as she disappeared down the stairs, a mix of curiosity and mild concern following her. but it was halloween. it was satoru’s house, after all. everything felt like it would be fine—at least for now.

satoru flopped back onto the couch, still wearing his goofy ghost outfit, clearly relaxed now. "she’s probably going to be down there for a while. we might as well get the party started," he said with an exaggerated sigh. he motioned to the rest of the group, holding up his drink like it was a trophy. "to surviving the horrors of halloween! or at least surviving my house!"

suguru shot him a dry look. "that’s a bit much, even for you."

you laughed at the playful back-and-forth. suguru had his usual calm composure, though the hint of a smirk tugged at his lips. nanami was still off to the side, leaning against the wall with a cool expression, watching everyone with a slight sense of detachment.

“come on, nanami,” satoru said, lifting his drink toward him. "join in. relax a little. it’s halloween!"

nanami merely raised an eyebrow, his cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. "i’m fine where i am," he replied flatly. "you all can do your thing. i’ll observe."

"that’s because you always observe," shoko teased from the kitchen, just as she came back into the room with a bottle of something dark and mysterious in her hand. she held it up triumphantly, her eyes gleaming. "found it."

satoru clapped his hands together dramatically, already reaching for the bottle. "see? that’s what i’m talking about." he held it up, inspecting the label. "expensive, but probably worth it. you all have no idea how much i spent to get this tonight."

"yeah, because you clearly spend all your money on that." suguru nodded to satoru’s ghost sheet, which was now beginning to sag slightly around his shoulders as he shifted. "great use of your funds."

you and shoko exchanged amused looks as satoru playfully ignored suguru, pouring a generous amount into a glass. the four of you settled back into your seats as everyone started sipping their drinks, chatting, and letting the alcohol work its magic. despite the earlier tension, everything felt easy again, like things were back to normal.

the party continued to buzz around you. laughter echoed from different corners of the room, and snippets of conversations filled the air, though they felt far off, almost muffled by the music. at some point, you caught sight of a couple across the room—clearly quite drunk, stumbling into each other while trying to dance.

satoru, ever the entertainer, leaned forward, his eyes glinting with amusement. "look at them," he said, voice laced with humor. "i swear, they’re more drunk than i am."

the couple swayed on the dance floor, clinging to each other for balance as they tried to keep up with the rhythm. one of them slipped, and they both crashed into the nearby table, knocking over a few plastic cups in the process. they burst into giggles, oblivious to the mess they’d just made.

suguru let out a dry laugh, his eyes narrowing slightly. "that’s a disaster waiting to happen." he shifted, clearly not impressed with their antics. "why do people think it’s fun to get that drunk? look at them. they’re not even enjoying themselves anymore."

shoko joined in, chuckling lightly. "it’s hilarious, though," she said, taking a sip from her own glass. "i mean, look at them." she motioned toward the couple, who were now spinning around in circles, barely keeping their feet under them.

you couldn’t help but laugh along with them, the sight of the two stumbling around too ridiculous to ignore. it was a nice distraction from everything else. for a few moments, the sound of their chaotic dancing and giggling filled the air, and you felt yourself relax even more.

nanami, however, was much less amused. he glanced at the couple, his expression unchanged, before taking another long sigh, eyes cold. "you all are immature," he said, voice flat. "if they’re going to embarrass themselves, let them. but this… this is pointless."

you raised an eyebrow at him, but there was a subtle grin tugging at your lips. "it’s just a bit of fun, nanami," you said. "halloween’s about letting loose."

"i don’t find it entertaining," he replied coolly, his gaze still fixed on the couple. "just seems... silly."

satoru, of course, was having none of it. "you’re just jealous because you can’t get that wasted and still look like you have it together." he gave nanami a sly smile, taking another gulp from his drink. "relax. let loose for once."

nanami didn’t respond, but you could tell he was already mentally dismissing the situation. instead, he turned his attention back to the corner, letting the rest of the group have their fun.

the drunken couple, meanwhile, was still all over the place, laughing louder now, bumping into people and knocking over more drinks as they continued to sway around the room. satoru shook his head, a grin still on his face. "i give them ten more minutes before they both crash into a wall."

"give them five," shoko added, clearly enjoying the spectacle. "they’re a trainwreck in motion."

you couldn’t help but agree with their assessment, laughing quietly as you sipped your own drink. it wasn’t the most graceful halloween, but it was definitely memorable. 

shoko stood up from the couch, giving a lazy stretch as she tossed her empty glass on the table. "i’ll be right back," she said, her voice a little more casual than usual. "gonna go take a smoke break."

satoru waved her off without looking up from his drink. "take your time," he said, his tone carefree as always. "just don’t get lost in the basement again."

shoko smirked, though there was something a little too quiet about it. "don’t worry, i’m not that bad." with a nod to the group, she made her way toward the back door, slipping out into the night air.

the remaining four of you sat there in the warmth of the party, the music vibrating through the walls as you sipped your drinks and chatted. the conversation drifted easily from topic to topic, the night growing a little more relaxed with every passing minute.

but, inevitably, the conversation took a darker turn.

"so, the cops said the couple died in their bed," satoru began, his voice suddenly dropping to a more serious tone. "they said they were basically—" he paused for effect, the air thick with anticipation. "mutilated."

you glanced at him, a small frown tugging at the corners of your lips. the lightheartedness was gone now, replaced by something that felt much heavier.

"they said the woman was found with her eyes hollowed out," suguru added, leaning back in his seat. "the scene was pretty gruesome. they weren’t exactly subtle about it on the news."

you swallowed hard, your stomach twisting as the details filled the air. you hated how easy it was for them to talk about it, like it was just another story. "i don’t think we need to go into that much detail," you said quietly, your voice soft but edged with discomfort.

but they kept going.

"i heard the guy had his throat cut," shoko’s voice echoed through the door, as if she had just reentered the conversation. "they didn't even spare him." she took a long drag from her cigarette outside, the smoke slipping into the cold air before she exhaled, almost as though trying to shake off the gravity of it all.

"the worst part," nanami said, tapping his cigarette into the tray, "was how the guy was still alive when they found him. it was... brutal."

you winced, the vivid images of their words flashing in your mind. you didn’t need to hear this. your stomach churned, and the faint buzz from the alcohol wasn’t enough to dull the sharp discomfort that had begun to settle in your chest.

"can we not talk about this?" you said, your voice trembling slightly. "it’s... too much."

the group fell silent for a moment, the gravity of the details suddenly hitting everyone in the room. they hadn’t realized how far they’d gone, how unsettling it was to talk about such violence so casually.

satoru, sensing the tension, sat up straighter, looking over at you with an almost apologetic expression. "sorry, i didn’t mean to make it worse," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "it’s just... it’s hard not to talk about it, you know?"

you nodded, trying to shake the thoughts away. it wasn’t just the talk of the murders, but the gruesome details that kept replaying in your head. it felt wrong, like you couldn’t escape it.

your eyes flickered to the door, where shoko had slipped out. you hadn’t seen her for a while now, and you suddenly felt the need to check on her. "i think i’ll go see how shoko’s doing," you said quietly, pushing yourself off the couch. "i’ll be right back."

as you stepped outside into the cool night air, the noise of the party faded behind you. the chilly breeze helped to clear your mind, though the images from the conversation lingered in the back of your thoughts. 

the vivid details of the murders they had mentioned earlier were still fresh in your mind, but you tried to push them away, focusing instead on checking on shoko.

the light from the house spilled onto the yard, casting long shadows on the ground. you scanned the area, looking for her. the soft crunch of gravel beneath your feet was the only sound, and it felt almost too quiet. where had she gone?

"shoko?" you called out softly, but there was no answer.

you walked a little further into the yard, the chill of the night air biting at your skin. your breath formed little clouds in the cold, but something felt off. there was a heaviness in the air, a tension you couldn’t explain. the house was distant, the party noises muffled by the walls.

as you turned the corner of the house, your heart skipped a beat. there, lying in the grass, was shoko. at first, you thought she might be sleeping, but the sight that greeted you froze you in place.

shoko’s body lay motionless, the shadows around her deep and dark, but what made you scream was the blood. so much blood, pooling around her in the grass, staining the earth beneath her. her eyes were wide open, staring into the void, and there, right in the center of her chest, was the unmistakable wound—a stab wound.

her blood soaked the ground around her, staining her black cat outfit, turning the fabric a dark crimson. it was a brutal sight, something you couldn’t look away from, even though every part of your body screamed at you to run.

"shoko!" you gasped, stepping forward in a daze, but your feet couldn’t seem to move fast enough. your hands trembled as you reached out to her, but it was too late. the warmth of her body had already faded, the life gone from her eyes.

a gut-wrenching scream tore from your throat, and you stumbled back, your heart racing in a way you’d never felt before. panic surged through you like a tidal wave. this can’t be real. the weight of it hit you all at once, and the world seemed to spin around you.

"no—no, no!" you cried, running back toward the house. you couldn’t think straight, your mind a blur. you burst through the door, your voice frantic. "someone’s—shoko’s—she’s—she’s dead!" you could barely get the words out. "she’s been stabbed!"

the room froze. the laughter, the music, everything came to a screeching halt. people turned to you, confused at first, but as your words sank in, the panic spread like wildfire. gasps filled the room, and people started looking at each other in fear, eyes wide with disbelief.

you could feel the weight of the silence pressing in on you, the full impact of what you’d just said sinking into the crowd. and then, chaos. voices erupted, people started shouting, others ran to the door, desperately trying to make sense of it all. some were still frozen, looking at you like they couldn’t believe what they were hearing.

shoko was dead.

"no, no way…" someone muttered, but their words were lost in the rising panic.

you frantically scanned the room, your heart racing, but satoru, suguru, and nanami were nowhere in sight. you didn’t know where they were, but in the frenzy of the party, it felt like they had completely disappeared.

"where are they?" you gasped to no one in particular, your voice barely audible over the growing noise. "where are satoru, suguru, and nanami?"

no one seemed to hear you, too wrapped up in their own panic, rushing around the room. you could see people trying to run out the door, others huddling together, fear and confusion written on their faces. but none of them were your friends. none of them could help you right now.

"i need to find them," you whispered to yourself, your voice trembling. you started to move through the crowd, but it felt like you were pushing against a wall. everyone was panicking, and you were just... lost in the chaos.

"i need to find them," you whispered to yourself, your voice trembling. you started to move through the crowd, but it felt like you were pushing against a wall. everyone was panicking, and you were just... lost in the chaos. people were shouting, running around, their faces twisted in fear, but none of it made sense. none of it mattered. all that mattered was finding satoru, suguru, and nanami.

you kept pushing through, weaving between the bodies, but no matter where you looked, you couldn’t see them. your heart pounded faster with each passing second. where were they? where did they go?

panic surged through your chest. i need to get out of here. the thought repeated in your head like a mantra. but you couldn’t leave without them. not alone.

you hadn’t driven here. you came in nanami’s car. the last thing you wanted to do was walk home alone in the middle of the night, especially after everything that had happened. the idea of being out there, in the dark, on foot... it was too terrifying to even consider.

your legs felt like lead as you moved through the house, the noise and the confusion making your head spin. you spotted a few familiar faces in the crowd, but none of them were the ones you needed. no, no, no, where are they?

you barely noticed that you were standing still, your hands gripping the edge of a table as the panic inside you rose again. you couldn’t breathe. i need to get out of here. but there was no way you could leave without your friends. no way.

"where are they?" you muttered under your breath, your voice growing more frantic. "satoru! suguru! nanami!" you screamed, but your voice got lost in the chaos.

someone brushed past you, knocking you to the side, but you barely registered it. the desperation clawing at your insides was all you could focus on.

you needed to leave. you couldn’t walk home alone. it wasn’t safe. but you had to find them. you had to find out if they were okay.

as you looked around again, you spotted the door. the dark yard outside, the place where you’d seen shoko’s body, beckoned with the promise of some kind of escape. but the thought of going back out there, of being alone again in the silence of the night, made your stomach churn.

you didn’t want to be alone. not tonight.

you pushed through the crowd again, feeling like you were drowning in the noise and confusion. i need to leave. i need to find them. it was all that mattered now.

you spotted a figure near the kitchen, and for a moment, hope flared inside you. but it was just another stranger, looking just as lost as you felt.

your breath caught in your throat. where were they?

you felt your legs tremble as you stepped back toward the door. i can’t stay here. i need to leave. i need them to be okay.

the door swung open, and for a brief moment, you thought you saw a shadow slip by. you rushed toward it, desperate. "satoru?" you called out shakily, but there was no response. just the sound of the wind rustling the trees outside.

what if something happened to them? the thought hit you like a cold wave, and the feeling of dread almost crushed you where you stood.

you started to move through the crowd, weaving between the bodies, but no matter where you looked, you couldn’t see them. your heart pounded faster with each passing second. where were they? where did they go?

panic surged through your chest. i need to get out of here. the thought repeated in your head like a mantra. but you couldn’t leave without them. not alone.

you hadn’t driven here. you came in nanami’s car. the last thing you wanted to do was walk home alone in the middle of the night, especially after everything that had happened. the idea of being out there, in the dark, on foot... it was too terrifying to even consider.

your legs felt like lead as you moved through the house, the noise and the confusion making your head spin. you spotted a few familiar faces in the crowd, but none of them were the ones you needed. no, no, no, where are they?

you barely noticed that you were standing still, your hands gripping the edge of a table as the panic inside you rose again. you couldn’t breathe. i need to get out of here. but there was no way you could leave without your friends. no way.

"where’s suguru?" you asked, your voice almost drowned out by the shouting around you. but no one seemed to answer. they were all lost in the panic, running past you, not even seeing you anymore.

"nanami?" you tried again, your throat tight. your eyes scanned every corner of the room, but you couldn’t see them anywhere. they were gone. or worse—what if something had happened to them too?

someone else was yelling, but it was hard to hear through the ringing in your ears. where were they? where had they gone?

your chest tightened as the panic surged again. you needed to leave, but you couldn’t do it alone.

a familiar voice broke through the chaos. "hey!"

you whipped around, your heart racing, and there he was—suguru. he pushed his way through the crowd, his face set with a grim determination. when he saw you, his expression softened just slightly.

"thank god," you whispered, relief flooding you all at once. "i couldn’t find anyone. where’s nanami? where’s satoru?"

suguru’s eyes flicked around nervously, his calm exterior slipping just a little as the panic in the house continued to rise. "i haven’t seen nanami since before everything started going crazy. he was going toward the back when things first broke out." he paused, his jaw tightening. "as for satoru... i don’t know. he went to the bathroom, and i haven’t seen him since."

you felt your chest constrict at the thought of them being lost in all this. "we have to find them," you said urgently, glancing around at the frantic crowd. "i can’t leave without them. i came here with nanami. i don’t even know how i’ll get home if i don’t find them."

suguru nodded, his face hardening. "i’m not going anywhere without them, either. but we can’t just stand here. we need to move."

the two of you quickly made your way through the crowd, your feet stumbling as you pushed past people. the noise was deafening, people yelling, running, shoving, not knowing where to go or what to do. it felt like everything was spinning out of control.

the two of you quickly made your way through the crowd, your feet stumbling as you pushed past people. the noise was deafening, people yelling, running, shoving, not knowing where to go or what to do. it felt like everything was spinning out of control.

you kept your eyes trained on suguru’s back, following him through the chaos, but the urgency in your chest only grew. you had to find them. you had to find someone—satoru, nanami, anyone. but the more you moved through the house, the more it felt like you were running in circles.

finally, suguru reached the bathroom door. "let’s check here," he said, his voice strained, but you could hear the worry underneath.

he pushed the door open with a quick shove, but what you saw inside made your stomach drop.

no.

nanami was slumped in the bathtub, his body limp, lifeless. the water was tinged red, and his clothes were soaked in blood. his eyes were wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling. his hands were resting at his sides, but the most horrific sight was what you saw next.

his neck showed clear signs of strangulation—deep bruises where someone had choked him. but there was something worse. his side had been stabbed, the blade sinking deep into his body. but that wasn’t all.

on the floor, near the bathtub, was a severed finger. you gasped, stepping back slightly, the horror of the sight making your body freeze.

"no…" you whispered, your breath catching in your throat. you wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. the sight of nanami—your friend—lying there, cold and lifeless, felt like a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from.

suguru stepped into the room, his expression hardening as he looked at nanami’s body. "this… this is bad," he muttered under his breath, his usual calm demeanor shattered by the grotesque scene in front of him. his eyes flickered toward the severed finger on the floor, then back to nanami. "who would do this?" he asked, though he didn’t expect an answer. his voice was tight with anger and fear.

you didn’t know what to say. you couldn’t even process the horror you were seeing. your thoughts were jumbled, your chest tight with dread. how could this happen? how could anyone do something like this?

"we need to get out of here," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. it was all you could manage, the reality of the situation crashing down on you. this wasn’t just a random attack. this was deliberate.

suguru looked at you, his face pale, but there was a determined edge in his gaze. "i know. but we can’t leave without knowing who did this. and we can’t let them get to us next."

he stepped forward, gently closing the door behind him, the weight of what you’d just seen hanging heavily in the air. you both stood there, afraid. afraid of what you had just discovered, and afraid of what was still to come.

"we’ll find satoru," suguru said, his voice firm, though it held a layer of uncertainty. 2we can’t let this go on any longer."

you nodded, trying to push past the wave of fear that was threatening to take over. you had to keep moving. you had to keep searching.

then, from down the hall, you heard it—screaming. it was loud, frantic, filled with terror. and it wasn’t just one person. there were more voices now, shouting in panic, followed by a crashing sound—furniture, glass, maybe something else breaking.

your heart skipped a beat.

"what the hell?" suguru whispered, his voice low but sharp, his eyes scanning the hallway. "we need to get out of here. now."

the crowd inside was still in a frenzy, people rushing from one room to the next, but none of them seemed to know what was going on. the screams continued, and in the chaos, you could hear the sound of running footsteps, the occasional thud as someone collided with furniture in their panic.

then, just as you took a step forward, a loud crash came from the other end of the hall. the sound of glass shattering followed by a blood-curdling scream echoed through the house, sending a shock of fear through your spine.

"what is happening?" you gasped, spinning toward suguru, but in that instant, the crowd surged forward, pushing you both apart.

"stay close!" suguru shouted, but it was already too late. the people around you were moving in every direction, desperate to get out, and you felt yourself being swept into the chaos. you tried to reach for suguru, but the crowd was too thick, pushing you away from him with each step.

the panic was overwhelming. you couldn’t see anything clearly. all you could hear were the screams—people shouting in fear, others crying out in pain. it was like the walls were closing in, the noise and chaos drowning out everything else. you stumbled forward, trying to make your way through the crowd, but it felt like you were moving in slow motion, each step more difficult than the last.

in a blind panic, you reached out, but your hand brushed against someone’s shoulder before they were pulled away by the mass of people. you couldn’t see their face, couldn’t make out anything in the confusion.

where’s suguru?

you turned in circles, trying to push your way through the crowd, but it was no use. people were running, crashing into each other, and the noise was deafening. it felt like the whole house was crumbling down around you.

another scream rang out from somewhere nearby, followed by more crashing sounds. someone screamed your name, but you couldn’t tell who it was—everything was too frantic, too chaotic.

your heart pounded in your chest as you pushed through the mass of bodies, your vision blurring. you had to find suguru. you had to find anyone. but it felt like you were lost in the chaos, the crowd swallowing you whole. you couldn't think straight. where were they?

then, just as you thought you might lose yourself to the panic completely, you felt a sharp shove from behind. you spun around, your breath catching in your throat as you saw more people running past you, their faces twisted in terror.

a new wave of screams flooded the room, and in that instant, you were lost. you couldn’t see suguru, you couldn’t see anyone. everything was happening too fast, the noise and fear overwhelming you in ways you couldn’t handle.

the walls of the house felt like they were closing in, the air thick with panic. people were shoving past you, desperate to get out, but you couldn’t move. your legs were like lead, every step heavy with dread.

your heart hammered in your chest, and you tried to push through the crowd, but it felt like you were stuck in place, like the panic was suffocating you. every breath you took was shallow, the overwhelming fear creeping up your throat. where is everyone? you thought desperately. where’s suguru? where’s satoru?

you closed your eyes for a brief second, trying to steady your breath, but all around you, the chaos continued. shouts and screams bounced off the walls, and you couldn’t think straight anymore. your chest tightened, and the knot in your stomach felt like it was going to choke you.

and then, just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, someone grabbed you by the arm.

you flinched, your heart racing, ready to pull away, but then a familiar voice broke through the noise.

"hey, it’s okay. i’ve got you."

you froze, your heart skipping a beat. you turned around, your breath catching in your throat as you saw him. satoru. his familiar face was tense, eyes wide with something darker than you’d ever seen before. he was holding his hand to his head, blood dripping between his fingers, staining his hair and shirt.

"satoru," you whispered, rushing toward him, your heart pounding in your chest. "what happened? are you okay?"

he winced slightly, the blood dripping from his head slowly, but he gave you a strained smile. "i’m fine," he said, his voice low but steady. "i got hit on the head by the killer. but don’t worry about me."

"what?" your voice cracked as you looked at him, the horror of his words sinking in. "you were hit by the killer? satoru, you—"

"shhh." he gently placed a finger to your lips, his expression suddenly serious, though the pain was clear in his eyes. "i’m fine. we don’t have time for this. listen to me."

he guided you into a nearby room, his hand firm on your arm. he looked around quickly before closing the door behind you, the sound of the party outside still echoing faintly. "stay in here with me," he said, his voice urgent. "i’ll lock it. we’ll be safer in here for now."

you wanted to argue, to ask more questions, but you could see the blood dripping from his head, and it only fueled your panic. the sight of him like this made everything seem even worse. the killer had been here. he had attacked satoru.

"are you sure you’re okay?" you asked, your voice trembling. "you’re bleeding, satoru. we should get you help."

he shook his head, the faintest grimace on his face as he pressed his hand harder to his head, trying to stop the bleeding. "we can’t risk it. we don’t know where they are. we don’t know who’s still after us."

his eyes scanned the room quickly, locking the door behind you both. his movements were swift but calculated, like he was still trying to keep everything under control.

you sat there, the silence between you and satoru thick with tension. his hand was still pressed to his head, blood slowly trickling between his fingers, but he was trying his best to stay calm. you could see the strain in his eyes, the weight of the situation heavy on him, and it only made you more anxious. you needed to know everything. you needed to tell him.

finally, the words slipped out before you could stop them. "satoru, nanami... he’s dead."

his gaze flickered up to meet yours, his expression still intense but now softer, more focused on you. "what?" he whispered, disbelief clear in his voice. "nanami?"

you nodded slowly, the reality of the situation sinking in deeper as you spoke. "i found him in the bathroom. he was... he was strangled and stabbed. his finger... it was missing, satoru. i—"

the words caught in your throat, and for a moment, the room spun. the horrific image of nanami’s lifeless body in the bathtub flooded your mind again. the sight of him, so still, so broken. you shut your eyes, trying to push it away, but it was there, lingering like a shadow.

"no..." satoru’s voice was barely a whisper, his eyes darkening as he took in your words. his face hardened, but there was an underlying pain that you could see in the way he clenched his jaw. "this doesn’t make sense. he was..."

"i don’t know, satoru," you interrupted, your voice trembling. "i don’t know what happened. and shoko... she’s dead too. i found her outside, just... in the yard. there was so much blood."

satoru’s expression faltered for a moment. the news hit him harder than he let on, but he quickly masked it with his usual composure. "shoko..." he murmured, his voice trailing off as if he couldn’t fully grasp what you were saying.

he stood up, pacing around the small room, his fingers running through his hair in frustration. "who could have done this?" he muttered under his breath. "why them?"

you couldn’t stand to see him struggle with it. why them? the same question had been eating at you ever since you found shoko, ever since you found nanami. but you couldn’t answer it. not yet.

"i lost suguru," you said, your voice breaking slightly as you spoke his name. "the crowd... it got so chaotic, and we got separated. i don’t know where he is, satoru. i couldn’t find him in the panic. i... i don’t know what happened to him."

you tried to keep your composure, but the terror of losing your friends weighed heavily on you. what if something happened to suguru too?

satoru stopped pacing and turned back to you, his face hardening with resolve. "we’ll find him, okay?" his voice was firm, though you could see the concern in his eyes. "we’ll find suguru. we just have to stay calm, stay focused. we can’t fall apart now."

you nodded, trying to believe him, but the fear was still there, clawing at your insides. what if it was too late?

he moved toward the door and locked it with a quick click, his movements precise. "we’ll go out there soon, check for signs of suguru. but for now, we need to stay hidden. we’re safer in here. we just need to hold on a little longer."

you took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. "what about nanami and shoko?" you asked quietly, looking down at your hands, feeling a lump form in your throat. "what do we do about them?"

satoru’s expression softened, but only for a moment. he glanced down, his eyes shadowed. “we can’t focus on that right now. we’ll deal with it later. we need to get out of here first.” his voice was colder now, more determined. "stay with me. we’ll find the others. we’ll get out."

but you couldn’t stop the weight of what had just happened from crashing down on you. nanami and shoko were gone. the reality of it hit you again, and you closed your eyes, swallowing back the nausea that rose in your throat.

"we’ll get through this, right?" you whispered, almost as much to yourself as to him. "we’ll get out. all of us. together?"

satoru didn’t hesitate. "together," he repeated firmly, though there was a slight tremor in his voice. "we will. we have to. for everyone else."

satoru didn’t hesitate. "together," he repeated firmly, though there was a slight tremor in his voice. "we will. we have to. for everyone else."

you stared at him for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in. together. but your heart still raced, fear gripping you so tightly it was hard to breathe. what if we didn’t make it out? what if the chaos outside wasn’t over yet? what if you were next?

the panic and fear bubbled inside you, and for a moment, you couldn’t hold it in any longer. you stepped closer to satoru, your hands trembling as you reached for him. "satoru... i’m so scared." your voice was barely more than a whisper, but it carried the weight of everything you’d been holding inside. "i... i don’t want to lose anyone else. i can’t... not like this."

he took a step toward you, his eyes softening as he reached out to gently take your hands in his. "you’re not going to lose anyone else," he said, his voice low but steady, his grip warm and reassuring. "i won’t let anything happen to you. i swear it."

his touch, warm and strong, was the anchor you needed in that moment. it calmed you, even just a little. his words, his presence, helped push back the fear swirling in your chest, but it didn’t take it away completely. there was still so much uncertainty, so much fear in the air. but being close to him, feeling his touch, gave you something to hold on to.

you both stood there for a moment, your breaths slowly evening out, the silence between you thick with the unspoken tension of everything happening around you. everything felt uncertain, chaotic. but in that moment, it felt like the two of you were the only things that made sense. you weren’t alone.

slowly, you raised your eyes to meet his, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the chaos outside seemed to fall away. all you could see was him—his blue eyes, his expression soft but filled with something deeper. something that made your heart ache.

"satoru..." you whispered, your voice trembling, unsure of what you were feeling but needing to say something. your gaze flickered from his eyes to his lips, and in that moment, it was like everything else ceased to exist.

his hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing across your skin as he stepped closer. his presence was all-encompassing, and for a brief second, it felt like the whole world outside didn’t matter. there was only you, only him.

"i’ve got you," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "i won’t let anything happen to you."

you didn’t say anything. you didn’t need to. in that moment, the fear, the panic, the uncertainty—they all melted away. there was only the comfort of his touch, the steadiness of his gaze, and the softness of his words.

without thinking, you closed the gap between you, your lips finding his in a kiss that was slow, soft, and full of unspoken promises. it was everything you needed in that moment—warmth, reassurance, and a sense of calm amidst the storm. the kiss was gentle, a shared breath, a silent vow to stay strong together.

but as you lingered there, the feeling between you both deepened. his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer, and you could feel the heat of his body against yours, the urgency of the situation breaking down any walls that had been left between you. his lips were no longer soft and tender, but demanding—hungry, as if he was desperate to hold on to this moment, to keep you close, to remind you that, despite everything, you weren’t alone.

his grip tightened, fingers trailing up your back, and you responded instinctively, your hands slipping into his hair, tugging him closer. the kiss deepened, a rush of heat filling your chest as your hearts beat faster. the world outside the room faded into nothingness. it was just you, just him—lost in the intensity of the moment.

you could feel the weight of the fear and uncertainty lifting, replaced by something else—a need, a connection that burned brighter than the fear. he kissed you like he was claiming something he couldn’t afford to lose. and in that moment, you kissed him back with the same intensity, the same desperation, trying to express everything you were feeling, everything that had been left unsaid.

the kiss grew more urgent, more frantic. you were both gasping for air, but neither of you wanted to pull away. his lips were on your neck now, trailing down to your jaw, and you leaned into him, your hands tugging at his shirt, urging him closer, wanting more. you could feel the racing of his heartbeat, the way his breath faltered as he kissed you deeper, as if the world outside didn’t matter.

finally, you broke away, your foreheads touching, both of you breathless, but still so close, so connected. your hearts were racing, but the panic, the fear—everything seemed so far away in that moment.

"we’re okay," satoru whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "we’ll get through this. together."

you nodded, your fingers still tangled in his hair, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. you didn’t need words to know what this meant—to both of you. in a world that felt out of control, there was still this. still him.

as you both sat there, the silence hanging heavily in the room, the flickering of the TV caught your attention again. the newscaster’s voice broke through the tension.

"we now return to our live coverage of the recent attacks. earlier today, we spoke with a survivor of the so-called 'phantom'—the individual responsible for these brutal assaults."

you both looked toward the screen, the sound of the interview now filling the room.

"i don’t remember much," the survivor said, their voice shaky and filled with trauma. "everything happened so fast, and i was terrified. but i remember his eyes. they were glowing—bright blue, almost unnatural. it’s all i could see. i couldn’t look away, i—" the survivor paused, their breath catching in their throat. 

your breath caught in your throat. bright blue eyes. you froze, the words echoing in your mind. something about it felt so wrong—so familiar.

as the survivor’s voice continued to crack through the TV, you turned slowly to Satoru, who had remained still, his eyes now focused on the screen with a quiet intensity. but as you studied him, something hit you like a cold wave—his eyes. the memory of what you’d just heard, the description of those bright glowing blue eyes, was suddenly so real. You’d seen those eyes before.

you swallowed hard, your gaze flickering from the TV to him. "satoru..." you whispered, your voice barely audible. your heart raced, and a shiver ran down your spine as you looked at him again. his eyes.

satoru’s expression remained unreadable, his eyes focused on you, but there was something off in the way he held himself. something that felt... out of place. you noticed how his hand was still pressed tightly against his head, blood staining the edges of his shirt, but there was something else. something was wrong.

you couldn't help it. you moved closer, your heart pounding with unease, and your eyes dropped to his arm. it was partially covered by the sleeve of his shirt, but you could make out the faint outline of a bandage wrapped tightly around his bicep. the sight of it made your stomach twist. what was he hiding?

without thinking, you gently moved his arm up to get a better look, your fingers brushing the fabric. as the bandage shifted, you saw the wound. it was deep, jagged, and freshly bandaged, blood having seeped through in several places. it looked like a stab wound.

your breath caught in your throat, and your heart dropped into your stomach. this wasn’t just a scratch—this was serious.

"satoru..." you whispered, your voice trembling. "what happened?"

he didn’t answer at first, his expression still unreadable, but there was an unmistakable tension in his posture. you could see the strain in his eyes as he pulled away slightly, as if trying to hide the injury from your view.

"it’s nothing," he said quickly, his voice sharper than usual. "just a little scratch. i’ll be fine."

you shook your head, disbelief flooding your veins. "a scratch?" you repeated, looking at him, your chest tight with fear. "satoru, that’s not a scratch. that’s a stab wound."

his jaw tightened, and for a moment, the mask of composure slipped just enough for you to see the unease beneath. "i said, it’s nothing," he insisted, his tone colder now, as if trying to push the conversation away.

you stared at him, but before you could say anything else, the sound of the TV suddenly cut through the tension. it was still on in the background, and the voice of the newscaster filled the room once again.

"i... i got away by stabbing the phantom in the arm with a piece of glass from a broken window," the survivor continued, their voice still shaken. "i don’t know if i really hurt him, but i stabbed him, and i ran. it was the only thing i could do to survive."

you felt the blood drain from your face, and your jaw dropped as the words settled in your mind. stabbed him in the arm. your gaze flickered from the TV back to satoru’s bandaged arm. he was stabbed there—that was the same place the survivor had described.

the pieces clicked into place, and your chest tightened with dread. “satoru,” you whispered, your voice shaky with realization. "the survivor... they said they stabbed the phantom in the arm with glass from a window. that’s the same place you’re hurt."

he didn’t answer, his expression growing more distant, more unreadable. his eyes seemed to avoid yours, and the weight of everything was pressing in on you. this wasn’t just some coincidence.

"satoru... what’s going on?"  you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, the fear growing in your chest.

he turned to face you, his back still to you for a moment, and you watched him closely. the tension between you both was palpable. you could feel the weight of everything that was left unsaid hanging in the air.

when he finally turned to look at you, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. for a moment, everything was still. his usual calm, confident demeanor was gone—replaced with something else. something darker.

there was a crazed look in his eyes. his pupils were dilated, and his expression, usually so controlled, was now twisted with something raw. something dangerous.

your breath hitched in your throat, a shiver running down your spine as you took a step back. "satoru..."

he didn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes was enough. it was like he was looking at you, but not seeing you—like he was lost in a whirlwind of his own thoughts. his hand gripped the doorframe tightly, and his body seemed tense, coiled like a spring ready to snap.

"i’m fine," he finally said, his voice coming out low, but the edge of desperation in it was unmistakable. "i'm not going to hurt you. just... stay calm. just trust me."

you could feel the dread building in your chest, every instinct screaming at you to stay away, but you couldn’t move. there was something terrifying about the way he looked at you—something that felt wrong. it was like the person you knew was slipping away, replaced by someone unrecognizable.

"satoru..." you whispered, trying to steady your voice, but it trembled in fear. "what’s going on? please, just tell me what's happening. i need to understand."

but instead of answering, he simply stared at you, his expression unreadable. there was something dark and almost dangerous in his eyes. the air between you felt thick, suffocating, as if something terrible was about to happen.

before you could react, you felt a sharp sting against your neck—a sudden pressure. you barely had time to register what was happening before your vision swam. you gasped, your body stiffening as an overwhelming dizziness took over you.

"what... what did you do?" you tried to ask, but the words slurred in your mouth, and everything felt like it was slipping away.

you looked down at his hand—clutched in it was a small cloth, soaked in something. chloroform. the realization hit you just as your knees buckled beneath you.

"satoru..." you whispered one last time, your voice a mere breath, but he didn’t say anything. he just held you steady as the world around you spun, everything becoming blurry, fading into darkness.

you tried to fight it, to stay awake, but it was useless. the darkness consumed you, and soon, there was nothing left but silence.

at first, it was the little things. the way he throws himself into training like it's the only thing that matters, leaving you waiting, your messages unread. you tried to tell yourself it was just part of who he is—a man chasing a dream no one else can understand. you told yourself patience was a virtue.

but patience, you realize now, is wearing thin.

you watch from the sidelines as he grows colder, more distant. his sharp focus becomes a wall, and no matter how hard you try, you can't seem to break through. the smiles he gives you feel practiced, the moments you share tinged with a quiet frustration you don't know how to voice.

and maybe, somewhere between the silence and the space growing between you, you start to understand: loving rin means accepting that sometimes, you're not enough. that his dreams, his ambitions, demand more than you can give. not because you're lacking, but because he's already given everything he has to something else.

you close your eyes and breathe in the ache. the ache of loving someone who can't stay—not because they don't want to, but because their path leaves no room to stay.

that's when the reason becomes clear.

you don't want to be the person he leaves behind.

you don't want to be the weight that holds him down.

you want him to soar—even if it means letting go.

the front door slammed shut behind him with a sharpness that made your heart jump. rin stood in the entryway, sweat still clinging to his forehead, his breath heavy from training. his eyes, usually so fiery with focus, seemed distant, clouded, like a storm brewing just beneath the surface.

"hey," you said softly, stepping into the living room, trying to catch his gaze.

he didn't respond right away. instead, he dropped his bag with a loud thud, the sound echoing through the quiet room.

"i'm tired," he said, voice flat, almost brittle.

"okay," you answered, trying to keep your tone light, "do you want something to eat? or maybe just rest?"

rin's jaw clenched, and he shot you a glance that was sharp, almost cold. "i said i'm tired. i don't want to talk."

the words stung more than you expected. the rin you loved—the one who used to share everything with you, who'd come home and laugh about small things, who'd ask how your day went—felt like a stranger right now.

"okay," you said again, trying to swallow the hurt, "i'll leave you alone then."

he nodded curtly and turned away, heading for his room.

you stood there, frozen for a moment. the door to his room closed with a soft click, but the distance between you felt like miles.

later, you found him sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. his shoulders were tense, like he was carrying something too heavy to put down.

"rin," you said quietly, sitting beside him, "what's going on?"

he didn't look at you. after a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice rough. "you don't understand. you never do."

"try me," you whispered, your heart aching.

he laughed bitterly, a sound you hadn't heard before. "try you? how many times have i told you i need to focus? how many times have you complained about me spending all my time training, chasing some impossible dream?"

"i don't complain," you said, though your voice trembled. "i just want to feel like i'm part of your life."

rin's eyes snapped to yours, burning with frustration. "part of my life? or just an excuse for you to get attention? sometimes, it feels like you want me to fail so you can have me all to yourself."

the words hit you like a punch. "that's not true. i love you."

"love?" he spat, shaking his head. "love doesn't mean holding me back. love means understanding when i need space. but you never give me that. you're always there, questioning, doubting."

"i'm scared," you admitted, voice breaking. "scared that if i don't say something, i'll lose you. scared that this—us—will disappear."

rin stood abruptly, pacing the room. "maybe it should disappear."

"what?" your breath caught.

he turned to face you, eyes cold but filled with pain. "maybe this isn't working. maybe we're just holding each other down."

the weight of his words pressed down on you. tears blurred your vision, but your voice was steady, even if your heart shattered inside.

"okay, fine."

"wha-"

"let's break up."

the words slip out before you can stop them, cold and sharp against the quiet of the room.

the silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. rin's expression flickered—surprise, disbelief, then something like grief.

rin freezes. his eyes, usually so fierce and unreadable, fill with shock. for a moment, he just stares at you—like he can't believe what he just heard.

"what?" he finally whispers, voice cracking with disbelief.

you can't meet his eyes. you stare at the floor, feeling your heart splintering into a thousand sharp pieces. "i—i can't do this anymore," you say, voice trembling. "it's too much. the distance. the silence. the way you shut me out when i need you most."

his voice is flat. emotionless. like he's already removed himself from the moment.

"fine. if that's what you want."

your chest tightens. "that's all you're going to say?"

rin shrugs, jaw clenched, eyes dropping to the floor. "you made your decision."

he says it like it doesn't hurt.

like it doesn't matter.

like you didn't just tear the floor out from under both of you.

but his hands are clenched into fists at his sides, knuckles pale. his jaw is tight, and his shoulders—always so strong, so sure—are trembling just enough to notice.

"you don't even want to talk about it?" you ask, voice cracking.

"what's the point?" he mutters. "you've already decided. you're done."

"you're not even going to fight for me?"

his eyes snap up then—cold, sharp, furious. "fight for you? i've been fighting. every day. i'm killing myself trying to be enough. for the game. for you. for everything."

you step back, stunned by the heat in his voice.

he laughs—bitter and humorless. "but it's never enough, right? i'm too distant. too cold. too focused. you think i don't know that?"

tears prick your eyes. "that's not what i meant..."

"no?" he snaps. "then what did you mean? because from where i'm standing, it sounds a lot like you're giving up."

his words slice through you. because maybe he's right. maybe you are giving up. but you're tired—tired of feeling like you come second to everything.

"i never asked you to choose," you whisper.

"you didn't have to," he shoots back, quieter this time. "you just decided i wasn't good enough."

you open your mouth, but no words come.

the pain in his eyes is the worst part—not the anger. not the bitterness. but the way he looks at you like he's breaking. like he's trying to hate you and can't.

he swallows hard, turning away. his voice barely carries now. "just go."

you can tell he's trying not to cry.

but you also know he won't stop you.

and that's what hurts the most.

you linger for a moment, hoping—begging—for everything to be different.

but it's not.

he just stands there, silent and still, pretending you walking away doesn't tear him apart.

and maybe you pretend too.

until the door clicks shut behind you.

he misses passes. fumbles shots. he's off, and everyone knows it.

bachira throws him a look during scrimmage, brows furrowed in quiet concern, but rin just shakes his head like it means don't ask. he doesn't want to talk. doesn't want to think. thinking leads back to you.

to the way your voice broke when you said "let's breakup."

he hears it in every second of silence. feels it in the weight of his limbs.

reo says something about his footwork being sloppy. nagi asks if he's sick. isagi tries to help, like he always does, offering some watered-down encouragement, but rin brushes them all off with a sharp, "shut up."

he gets sent off the field early.

cool off, itoshi, the coach says. he doesn't argue.

just grabs his bag, throws on his hoodie, and disappears.

at home, the quiet is worse. it echoes.

everything feels bigger now. emptier. your things are gone. the hoodie you always borrowed is still draped on the couch, and he hates that it still smells like you.

he sits in the same spot where you told him it was over. plays the moment again and again like a punishment. he tries to remember what your eyes looked like when you said it, if you hesitated at all—if there was even a chance you didn't mean it.

he wonders if he could've stopped you if he'd said the right thing. if he hadn't shut down. if he'd begged harder.

but he didn't.

he said fine. he said it like a coward. like he didn't care.

like he wasn't shattered.

nights are the worst.

sleep doesn't come. he just stares at the ceiling, phone clutched in his hand, thumb hovering over your name.

he doesn't text. doesn't call.

just stares.

he wonders if you're okay. if you're crying. if you're sleeping soundly, relieved to be free of him. he doesn't know what's worse—imagining you broken like him, or imagining you perfectly fine.

sometimes, he plays the voice memo you sent months ago. the one where you laughed and told him you loved him. he listens to it on repeat until the battery dies.

he hasn't cried.

he's not sure if he can.

but he hasn't eaten in two days, aside from protein bars, and he hasn't spoken to anyone outside practice. his room is a disaster, training gear everywhere, the covers of the bed still messy from the last night you stayed over.

he hasn't touched them.

he can't.

he's meaner now.

snappier.

every word out of his mouth is laced with bitterness, like if he spits hard enough, maybe it'll clear out the lingering taste of you. his teammates avoid him. sae texts to ask what's going on. rin leaves him on read.

everything pisses him off. the sound of someone laughing too loud. the sight of couples holding hands. love songs on the radio. commercials that remind him of that trip you took together. the chipped mug you used to drink from every morning.

it all feels like a joke now.

one he doesn't want to laugh at.

he sees you once—accidentally.

just across the street, walking with a friend. you're smiling. it kills him. not because you don't deserve to be happy. but because that smile used to be his.

he doesn't say anything. just stares until the light changes and the crowd swallows you up again. he walks the other way.

later that night, he punches the wall until his knuckles bleed.

weeks pass.

nothing gets easier.

he pretends it does. goes through the motions. trains. eats. showers. but it's all mechanical. he exists like someone pressed pause on the part of him that used to feel.

because the truth is, he doesn't know who he is without you.

you were the only person he could be soft with. the only one who understood the way his silence wasn't anger, just fear. the only one who held him when his walls cracked, when the weight of his ambition got too heavy.

you were home. and now he's lost. he almost texts you on your birthday.

he types out a dozen messages. i miss you. i'm sorry. are you okay? happy birthday. deletes every single one.

what's the point?

you made your choice.

and he let you walk away.

he said fine.

he gave up when he should've fought.

so he throws his phone across the room and buries himself in training. again. and again. and again.

like maybe if he runs hard enough, fast enough, he'll outrun the pain.

but he doesn't.

because every goal he scores, every praise he hears, is empty without someone to share it with.

he doesn't tell anyone this.

but at night, he still sleeps on your side of the bed.

just so he can pretend, for a moment, that you're still there.

because the truth is—

you were the only thing in his life that ever made him feel like he wasn't just a machine.

and now that you're gone?

he doesn't know how to be human anymore.

you aren't coping any better than him. 

you don't sleep much anymore.

it's not because you're crying—not really. you're just tired. tired in the kind of way that clings to your bones, dragging behind you like a shadow you can't shake. the apartment's quieter now. still. your phone is quieter too.

you check it more than you care to admit.

not because you're hoping for anything specific. but because a part of you—some small, aching part—keeps whispering that maybe he'll say something. maybe rin will fight for you. maybe he'll show up and say he was wrong. say he misses you.

he doesn't.

and that hurts more than anything else.

you keep reliving the moment you said it.

"let's break up."

you hadn't meant to blurt it out like that. you wanted to explain it gently, piece by piece. wanted him to understand. but the words came fast, raw, like a wound splitting open all at once.

and when he said "fine, if that's what you want", it felt like the ground gave out underneath you.

because it wasn't what you wanted.

not really.

you wanted him to tell you no. to reach for you. to care.

but he didn't.

and you weren't going to beg for a love that felt like a second priority anymore.

days pass in strange, uneven ways.

some mornings, you wake up and the grief is sharp. unbearable. it crushes you before you even sit up. other days, it's numb. a low ache you carry while you wash dishes or try to read a book. it bleeds into everything.

you think about texting him. more than once.

but every time, you stop yourself. because you remember the distance in his eyes. the way his voice had turned flat. like it didn't matter. like you didn't matter.

maybe you never did.

no—that's not fair. you know he loved you, in his own way.

but his love came wrapped in silence and absence. in missed calls and empty reassurances. in the way his dreams always came first, and you were always the one making room.

until you ran out of space to give.

you wonder if he's okay.

you wonder if he's still training until his body aches. if he's eating. if his teammates have noticed the way he shuts down when things get hard. if he stares at his phone, too.

you don't ask.

instead, you scroll through old photos. of him, smiling in those rare soft moments. of the two of you, tangled up in laughter and lazy weekends. your favorite one is blurry—he's mid-laugh, hair messy, a bowl of instant ramen in front of him.

he had looked so happy.

you wonder if he still is.

your friends ask how you're holding up.

you lie, of course. say things like "i'm fine" and "it was the right decision." they nod, supportive, but you can tell they don't quite believe you. they see the way you hesitate before answering. how you flinch when someone brings up soccer.

they don't push.

but when you get home, you fall apart again. in quiet ways. in empty rooms. in the space where he used to sleep.

you haven't moved his sweatshirt off the couch.

you don't know if you ever will.

you see him once.

he doesn't see you.

he's crossing the street, earbuds in, jaw tight. his hair is a little longer, the shadows under his eyes a little deeper. he looks tired. not physically, but soul-deep. like he's carrying something too heavy.

you almost call out to him. almost.

but you don't.

you just stand there, frozen, heart pounding in your chest like it might break free and run to him. you think about how much you miss him. how much you still love him, even now.

and how none of that changes the fact that being with him had started to hurt more than it healed.

so you turn around and walk away.

you cry about him less now.

you talk about him less now.

not because you've forgotten. but because saying his name still feels like pressing on a bruise that hasn't fully healed. your friends think you're getting better.

you're not sure if you are.

he still lingers in everything—your playlists, the takeout place he loved, the way you sleep with your back to the empty side of the bed. there are pieces of him tucked into your life like forgotten bookmarks, quietly waiting to be noticed.

you don't know how to stop loving him.

you're not sure you ever will.

but you also know this:

you're allowed to want more.

you're allowed to want a love that reaches back.

you're allowed to miss him and still know you made the right choice.

maybe one day, you'll see each other again.

maybe you'll talk.

maybe you'll finally say all the things that never made it out.

but for now—

you sit with the silence.

you let it hurt.

you let it heal.

because loving rin itoshi wasn't a mistake.

but losing yourself in him would've been.

.

it happens when you least expect it.

you're not dressed for this. not emotionally. not mentally. you're just running errands—messy hoodie, hair half-tied, earbuds in, grocery list half-forgotten in your hand. your mind's elsewhere, floating in the quiet calm of a normal day.

and then you see him.

rin.

he's standing in the far aisle of the convenience store, reaching for a bottle of water. same dark hair, same sharp profile, same shoulders you used to cry into when the world felt too heavy. he hasn't seen you yet. not really. not until he turns—and then everything stops.

his eyes meet yours.

your breath catches.

just like that, you're yanked back into something you've been trying to bury for weeks.

memories hit like waves: his hand in yours. his hoodie draped over your shoulders. his voice low and quiet against your skin when he whispered "stay."

you wonder if he remembers, too.

you think he does.

his eyes widen just a little. not surprised. just... struck. like he didn't expect this moment to come either. for a second, neither of you move. the world keeps going—music overhead, quiet footsteps around you—but you feel like you're suspended in time.

you swallow hard and look away first.

your fingers tighten around your phone like it'll anchor you. you should walk away. you should say nothing, pretend it didn't happen, pretend he didn't happen.

but then you hear him.

"wait."

his voice is quiet, but it cuts through the noise like glass.

you turn slowly.

he looks like he hasn't slept. his expression unreadable, but his eyes? they're full of something you don't have a name for. regret, maybe. guilt. longing.

god, you hate that it still makes your heart ache.

"hey," he says.

just that. hey.

like you're not standing in the ruins of everything you used to be.

"hey," you reply, voice soft.

there's a long pause. the kind that stretches too wide, filled with things neither of you know how to say.

"you look..." he trails off. swallows. "you look good."

you blink. force a smile. "you look tired."

he lets out a soft breath. maybe it was meant to be a laugh, but it sounds more like surrender.

"i've been meaning to text you," he says. "i just... didn't know if i should."

"you didn't."

he flinches.

another silence. heavier this time.

you glance toward the exit. "i should—"

"wait," he interrupts again, stepping closer. "please. just for a second."

you hate how your body still responds to his voice. how your heart still wants to believe that maybe he's here to fix it. maybe he's changed. maybe he still loves you.

"i miss you," he says suddenly, voice cracking just a little.

your eyes snap to his.

he looks broken. not dramatically, not in a way most people would notice. but you've known him. known the way he shuts down when he's hurting, the way his fingers curl into fists when he's trying not to fall apart.

and right now—he's unraveling.

"i know i hurt you," he whispers. "i know i didn't choose you the way i should have. but... being without you—i can't breathe. i don't feel like myself anymore. i don't even want to play. everything just feels—empty."

your throat tightens.

you want to tell him that you felt empty too. that you still do, sometimes. that walking away nearly killed you.

but you don't say any of that.

instead, you whisper, "you let me go."

he winces like the words hit harder than you intended.

"i didn't want to," he says. "but i thought... if i couldn't be what you needed, maybe it was better to let you walk away than to keep hurting you."

you blink back the sting in your eyes. "you could've fought  for me, rin."

"i know."

his voice is barely audible now.

"i just—" he swallows hard, eyes shining with something dangerously close to tears. "i didn't know how. i've never been good at this. not with feelings. not with you. but i'm trying. i want to try. i want—" his voice breaks. "i want you back."

you stare at him.

and for a moment, all you can think about is how much you missed him.

but love isn't enough. not always.

"i don't know if i can do that," you whisper. "i'm still hurt. i'm still tired. i don't know if you can give me what i need."

he nods slowly, shoulders sagging.

"then i'll wait," he says. "as long as it takes. even if you don't come back. i'll wait."

and it's pathetic, in that way only real love can be. in the way that makes your chest hurt. in the way that makes you want to cry.

but you don't.

you just stand there, watching the boy who once held your heart finally learn what it means to lose it.

it doesn't happen that day.

you leave the store with his voice echoing in your ears—"then i'll wait." you don't look back, but the ache in your chest lingers, heavier than before.

and yet, days pass.

then a week.

then two.

no calls. no messages. just silence. the kind that's filled with too many unsaid things.

and somehow, it's worse than before—because now you know how he feels. now you know he misses you. now you know he's waiting.

and god, you miss him too.

you miss the little things. his quiet voice in the morning. the way his hand always found yours under the table. the rare, precious smiles that made everything else fade away.

you miss him.

but love isn't something you fall into and out of like it's easy. it's a choice. it's showing up. it's trying. 

and maybe, just maybe... you're both ready now.

the next time you see him, it's raining.

the sky is a soft gray, the kind that blurs the world into watercolors. you didn't plan to see him. didn't plan anything, really. you were just walking—thinking, always thinking—when you found yourself near the pitch.

and there he is.

rin.

alone. drenched. practicing in the rain like it's the only thing that can keep him grounded.

you watch from the sidelines for a moment, heart twisting at how familiar this feels. how many times did you stand like this before? loving someone who gave his all to the game.

he hasn't noticed you yet.

so you call his name.

he stops instantly, head turning, breath visible in the cold air. his eyes find yours—and just like that, you see it. every unspoken word. every apology. every i miss you  that's been sitting between you since the day everything fell apart.

you step closer, rain soaking through your sleeves, your shoes, your skin. but none of it matters.

he doesn't move. just stares like he's afraid to blink and lose you again.

you stop in front of him, heart pounding.

"hey," you say softly.

he doesn't answer. not at first. just studies your face like he's memorizing it again.

finally, he speaks.

"i didn't text you," he says, voice hoarse. "i wanted to. every day. but i thought maybe you needed space. maybe you hated me."

you shake your head. "i didn't hate you."

he swallows hard. "do you... still?"

"no." you pause. "i never did."

his shoulders drop. not in defeat—just relief. like he's been holding his breath for weeks.

you look at him—really look—and say, "i've been thinking a lot."

he nods slowly. waits.

"you were right," you admit. "you weren't ready. and maybe i wasn't either. maybe we needed to break before we could figure out how to fix it."

he says nothing, but you can see it—hope blooming in the corners of his eyes.

"i don't want perfect," you whisper. "i just want you. even if it's messy. even if it's hard. i just... want to try again."

his breath stutters.

"do you mean that?" he asks, like he's afraid to believe it.

you nod. "but i need you to meet me halfway, rin. i need to be more than a second thought. i need to feel like i matter."

he steps closer, rain dripping down his face, his jaw trembling like he's trying to hold himself together.

"you do," he says fiercely. "you matter more than anything. i didn't know how to show it before. but i swear—i'll learn. i'll do better. i'll never make you feel like you're not enough again."

you reach for his hand, cold and wet but steady in yours.

"okay," you whisper. "then let's try."

he exhales a shaky breath, and for the first time in what feels like forever—you see him smile.

not the small, polite one.

a real one.

soft. hopeful. full of love.

his arms wrap around you like muscle memory.

not rushed. not desperate. just... full.

like he's memorizing the feel of you again.

you breathe him in—rainwater and grass and something so rin it makes your chest ache.

he's trembling a little. or maybe it's you.

maybe it's both of you, standing in the middle of the world you almost lost, too scared to hope, too full of it anyway.

his hands settle gently at your waist, thumbs brushing the soaked fabric of your shirt.

his forehead rests against yours, water dripping off his lashes.

his voice is soft. raw.

"you still love me?"

you don't say anything.

you lean in.

and kiss him.

slow.

like the first page of a book you want to read forever.

like you've waited too long and somehow not long enough.

he stills against you—just for a second.

then his mouth moves with yours, sure and reverent.

not perfect. not practiced.

honest.

the rain falls harder. it soaks through your clothes, your hair, the space between you.

but you don't care.

you don't even feel the cold anymore.

you just feel him.

his fingers slide up to cradle your jaw, careful but certain.

like he's afraid you'll vanish if he lets go, but he doesn't want to hold you too tight either.

and when you finally pull back, both of you breathless, the world is still spinning. but slower now.

his eyes search yours.

he's never been good at words.

but this—this look—

it says everything.

i missed you.

i still want you.

please don't leave again.

you press your forehead to his.

"i'm here," you whisper. "we're okay."

and he nods.

just once.

you kiss him again, soft and certain.

and this time, it feels like a promise.

"i love you."

and for the first time in a long time—you let yourself believe in something again.

not because it's easy.

but because it's real.

the thing about being coupled up with itoshi sae is that it doesn’t look like love, not the way it does for the other islanders. there’s no over-the-top pda by the pool, no dramatic speeches at the firepit, no cheesy inside jokes that the whole villa can hear. sae doesn’t hold your hand just to hold it, doesn’t snake an arm around your waist unless he has to, and he never kisses you simply for the camera’s sake. from the outside, it almost seems like he doesn’t care—like he’s only here because the rules say he has to be. and maybe that’s why the others don’t get it, why they sometimes whisper about you when you’re not around. “how can she put up with that?” they say, as if your coupling is a dull, loveless arrangement. but you know better. sae isn’t like the others. he doesn’t need to prove anything to anyone. his affection isn’t for show; it’s not loud or flashy or performative. it’s quiet. understated. meant only for you.

you see it in the little ways—the way he always waits for you when the group heads to a challenge, trailing at your side without being asked. the way he always keeps your bed space neat, your water bottle full, your pillow on his side so that you don’t have to scramble for it when the lights go out. when you make coffee in the morning, he doesn’t say thank you, but he drinks it without complaint even if it’s too sweet or too bitter. when you’re cold by the firepit, he doesn’t drape an arm around you for everyone to see—he simply shifts closer, letting the heat of his body soak into yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world. sae doesn’t perform love. he just does it, in quiet movements that you’ve learned to recognize, gestures that are his version of devotion.

of course, there’s a sharpness to it too. sae isn’t easy. he isn’t warm. his loyalty doesn’t come wrapped in pretty words, and it doesn’t come with the softness you sometimes wish for. instead, it comes with blunt honesty and that possessive edge he can’t quite hide. the first time one of the other boys tried to graft with you, sae didn’t cause a scene. he didn’t storm off, didn’t make a jealous speech. he just fixed the boy with a stare so sharp, so cutting, that it killed the conversation before it could even begin. “go talk to someone else,” he’d said, flat and calm, like it was a simple fact. and then, turning to you, he’d added just one more line, low and quiet, meant for your ears alone: “don’t waste your time.” it wasn’t romantic, not in the way you might have imagined, but your heart had raced all the same. because under all that ice, under all that control, was the bare truth: sae didn’t want to share you with anyone.

he never says it outright, but you’ve learned to read between the lines. when he tells you “don’t talk to him,” what he means is “i don’t like seeing his eyes on you.” when he mutters “you’re wasting your energy,” what he means is “i want your energy on me.” sae’s words might come off as cold, dismissive even, but you’ve learned to decode them, to see the possessiveness that pulses beneath. he’s loyal, yes, but it’s not a gentle loyalty. it’s sharp, cutting, sometimes suffocating. and yet, you don’t doubt it. sae itoshi doesn’t play games. if he didn’t want to be with you, he wouldn’t be.  

that’s the one thing that keeps you steady in this villa, even when people whisper behind their water bottles about how “cold” he seems or how “closed off” he is. you know better. sae doesn’t waste his time on things he doesn’t want. and right now, he’s with you. it’s not roses and fireworks and pillow talk the way it is for other couples, but it’s real—solid in a way that makes you feel safe, untouchable. nights spent side by side, ankles brushing under the duvet, his steady presence keeping you grounded when the villa gets too loud. mornings where he wordlessly hands you the first slice of toast, his way of making sure you eat before he does. little things, quiet things, sae things.

and for a while, everything’s going well. the others tease, asking if you’re ever going to pull a “big romantic gesture,” and sae just raises an eyebrow, bored, before returning to his orange juice. you laugh it off because you don’t need him to prove anything to anyone else. you know where you stand. 

the villa has settled into its rhythm—lazy afternoons by the pool, stolen moments at the firepit, harmless banter between challenges. you’ve started to believe that maybe, just maybe, you’ll coast through this whole thing with no surprises.

until the phone goes off.

the sharp trill cuts through the villa’s easy chatter, followed by the inevitable chorus of voices: “i got a text!” everyone scrambles, the group gathering in a tight circle to hear what’s written. you lean forward, curious but not anxious—at least until the words are read aloud.

"islanders, please welcome a new bombshell to the villa. #headturner #troubleincoming"

immediately, the air shifts. the safe, settled energy evaporates, replaced by buzzing nerves and wide-eyed excitement. the girls start fixing their hair in the reflection of their phone screens; the boys exchange looks, already sizing up invisible competition.

your stomach twists. new bombshells mean one thing: temptation. tests. disruption. and though you know sae doesn’t play games, doesn’t chase drama, doesn’t care about anyone else in this villa but you, there’s a flicker of unease you can’t quite smother.

he must sense it, because his hand brushes against yours—a small, subtle gesture, his version of reassurance. his expression doesn’t change, though; he looks just as calm, just as bored as always, like none of this matters.

“don’t look like that,” he mutters under his breath, so low only you can hear. “whoever it is won’t change anything.”

and you want to believe him. you do. but as the villa doors swing open and the new bombshell steps in, all confident smirks and chaos energy, you can’t shake the feeling that something’s about to crack wide open.

shidou walks in like he owns the villa—cocky, flirty, loud, the kind of energy that crashes into the space and rearranges it completely. the air, moments ago lazy and sun-drenched, tightens instantly. the chatter dies down, laughter fading into sharp gasps and squeals that ripple across the firepit circle.

“no way—” one of the girls blurts, eyes wide and practically glowing. “that’s him. that’s shidou. he was on last season.”

at once, the villa explodes into whispers, voices tumbling over each other in excitement. some of the boys stiffen, sizing him up with thinly veiled hostility, while the others lean forward, grinning, already hungry for the chaos they know is coming. because everyone remembers shidou ryusei. he’s not just a new bombshell—he’s the bombshell, a name the villa still hasn’t forgotten. the headlines, the shouting matches, the smirking confessionals that broke the internet. he wasn’t just a contestant; he was a storm that left wreckage in his wake. and now he’s back.

“villa’s been boring without me, huh?” he calls out, grin wide, teeth glinting in the sun. his voice cuts through the buzz, shameless and arrogant, perfectly matching the way he carries himself—like the villa itself is just a stage, and he’s the headliner returning for an encore.

he doesn’t just walk in; he prowls. shirt unbuttoned halfway, gold chains catching the light, hair deliberately tousled in that reckless way. he looks like trouble, like temptation dressed up in human form. the girls are giggling behind their hands, nudging each other, while the boys are bristling, their jaws tight, eyes narrowed. it’s as though the air itself has charged with electricity, every gaze following him as he comes to a stop in the center of it all.

“name’s shidou ryusei,” he says, throwing the introduction out like a challenge instead of a courtesy. “you’ve probably heard it before. and if you haven’t…” his smirk widens, a blade glinting under sunlight. “…you will.”

there are groans and cheers in equal measure, half the villa already entertained, the other half already irritated. but it doesn’t matter. shidou thrives on the split. in fact, he looks like he wouldn’t have it any other way.

and then his eyes find you.

the smirk that had been painted lazily across his face twists into something sharper, more deliberate, as if he’s discovered his next target. he doesn’t say a word—doesn’t need to. his stare lingers, hot and unflinching, dragging over you with a weight that makes your stomach flip despite yourself. it’s the kind of look that feels like he knows something you don’t, like he’s already plotted a story with you at the center.

he holds it, just long enough to make your skin prickle, before finally looking away. but the silence he leaves behind is louder than any of his words.

and beside you, sae doesn’t move. he doesn’t frown or scowl or twitch an inch. but you can feel it, the tension pouring off him like a storm cloud ready to burst. his jaw is set, his posture too still, his eyes fixed on the bombshell who just walked in and tilted your whole world off balance.

for the first time since coupling up, you realize: this villa is about to get dangerous.

“can i pull you for a chat?”

the words are barely out of shidou’s mouth before the villa erupts into a chorus of knowing laughs and whistles. everyone loves it — the boldness, the chaos, the sheer inevitability of it. no one says no to the bombshell, not when he’s smiling like that, sharp and dazzling, as if the world itself bends to his grin.

you hesitate, only for a breath. then you nod, polite, because saying no would feel too pointed, too much like a scene. and you don’t want a scene. not with the whole villa watching. not with sae watching.

“don’t worry,” shidou says, low enough that only you catch it as he guides you away, “i won’t bite.” he flashes a grin that suggests the opposite.

the two of you settle on the daybeds, the chatter of the villa still humming faintly behind you. shidou sprawls back like he owns the space, one arm draped lazily across the cushions, legs spread wide. he radiates ease, his posture a statement that he doesn’t need to try — people come to him.

“so,” he drawls, head tilting toward you, “what’s your deal, gorgeous? already coupled up?”

“i am,” you say evenly, tucking your legs under yourself. “with sae.”

“sae, huh?” his mouth curls around the name like it’s a toy, something to play with. “the ice prince himself.” he chuckles, eyes glinting. “should’ve guessed.”

you raise a brow. “guessed what?”

“that he’d pick the prettiest girl in the villa and then not know what to do with her.”

you laugh, a short surprised sound, because his delivery is ridiculous — cocky, outrageous, so unlike the dry, clipped remarks you’ve grown used to from sae. shidou leans into the sound immediately, grinning like he’s won something.

“ah, there it is,” he says, tapping a finger against his chin like he’s cataloguing a rare find. “that laugh. bet sae doesn’t get that out of you much.”

“you don’t know what you’re talking about.” you shake your head, but you’re smiling despite yourself, because there’s something infectious about his energy. he’s magnetic in the way a wildfire is — too bright, too fast, a little dangerous.

the conversation spins easily after that, shidou tossing out ridiculous comments that toe the line between charming and offensive, you batting them back with half-exasperated, half-amused retorts. he tells stories — wild, exaggerated tales from his last season in the villa — and you can’t help it, you laugh. more than once. more than you should.

and from across the villa, sae clocks every single one.

he’s sitting by the firepit, posture deceptively relaxed, but his eyes are sharp, fixed on you like a hawk. he doesn’t move, doesn’t fidget, doesn’t interrupt, but the tension radiates from him so thickly that the others shift uncomfortably around him. his jaw ticks when you laugh again, brighter, looser than you usually do in this place.

“he’s gonna kill him,” one of the boys mutters under his breath, half-joking, half-dead serious.

but sae doesn’t speak. he doesn’t storm over. he doesn’t make a scene. that’s not his way. instead, he watches, silent and unyielding, as shidou leans closer to you, flashing teeth in another grin.

“you’re fun,” shidou says suddenly, cutting through your laughter. his voice drops, lower, more deliberate. “you don’t look at me like i’m crazy.”

“that’s because i already know you’re crazy,” you shoot back, rolling your eyes.

his laugh is loud, unrestrained, the kind that makes heads turn. “see? that’s what i like. you get it.” his gaze sharpens, a dangerous flicker of intent underneath the levity. “i can see why sae’s clinging to you so tight.”

you freeze for just a moment, caught by the edge in his tone. “he’s not—”

“oh, but he is,” shidou cuts in smoothly. “look at him.” he jerks his chin subtly toward the firepit. against your better judgment, you glance over.

and there he is. sae. unmoving, unreadable, but watching you with a stare so sharp it pins you in place. the kind of stare that makes your pulse stutter. the kind of stare that says mine without a single word.

heat rushes to your face, and you whip your gaze back to shidou, who is grinning like a cat.

“told you,” he says lightly, almost sing-song. “he’s pissed. he’s gonna sit there and stew and you’re gonna keep laughing at my jokes, and it’s gonna drive him insane. kind of fun, isn’t it?”

you want to deny it. you want to tell him to shut up, to stop making this into something bigger than it is. but your throat feels dry, your mind a jumble, and instead you laugh again, a nervous little sound that betrays you.

shidou leans back, satisfied, his smirk curling like smoke.

across the villa, sae’s fingers tighten against his knees, knuckles blanching white. he doesn’t move. he doesn’t speak. but the storm is brewing, and everyone can feel it.

it’s late. the villa’s quieter now, most of the islanders tucked away in their daybeds, chatter thinning into background noise. sae’s by the outdoor kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water, movements precise, almost mechanical. that’s when he hears it — the heavy, careless footsteps.

“yo.”

shidou. of course.

he leans against the counter like he owns it, grin plastered wide across his face, watching sae with bright, dangerous eyes.

“not in the mood,” sae mutters without looking up, already turning to walk away.

but shidou blocks him, stepping into his path with all the subtlety of a brick wall. “nah, nah, don’t be like that. we barely know each other. thought we could have a man-to-man chat.”

sae’s jaw ticks. “i’m not interested.”

shidou laughs, low and unbothered, and tilts his head. “see, that’s the thing. i don’t need you to be interested. i just need you to listen.”

his grin sharpens, teeth flashing as he leans in. “c’mon, we can share, yeah? no harm in a little fun.”

the words are the same as before, but heavier now, no audience to soften them into a joke. he says them slow, deliberate, like he’s savoring the taste of the provocation.

sae’s eyes lift at last, dark and flat. “you’re pathetic.”

shidou only laughs harder, throwing his head back. “pathetic? nah. i’m real. and real recognizes real, itoshi. she’s gorgeous. magnetic. she laughed with me. don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

“i noticed,” sae replies, voice like ice splintering. his shoulders are squared, every line of his body wound tight, but his face stays composed, blank in a way that’s somehow more dangerous than anger. “i notice everything.”

shidou steps closer, crowding his space, eyes glittering with reckless amusement. “so what’s the problem then? you know she likes me. you can feel it. i could take her off your hands, make her laugh a little more, shake her up. you keep playing the cold boyfriend act, and she’s gonna get bored, man.”

the silence that follows is suffocating.

then sae speaks, quiet, controlled. “touch her, and you’re done.”

shidou pauses. for the first time all night, his grin falters just a fraction. but it’s back in a heartbeat, sharper, almost feral.

“ohhh,” he drawls, stepping back half a pace, like he’s just tasted something addictive. “there it is. you do have teeth. i was wondering.”

sae doesn’t answer. he doesn’t need to. his glare says enough — a warning carved into stone.

shidou laughs again, wild and unbothered, retreating with his hands raised like mock surrender. “fine, fine. but don’t get too comfortable, prince. this villa? it’s a game. and i love games.”

he saunters off, humming to himself, leaving the air crackling in his absence. sae stays where he is, still and silent, water untouched in his glass — jaw tight, chest rising slow, steady.

because for the first time since walking into the villa, someone’s managed to crawl under his skin.

and he hates it.

later, when you find him, he’s sitting on the edge of one of the daybeds, the cushions dipped beneath his weight, elbows balanced on his knees. the villa’s pool glows a hazy turquoise under the night lights, ripples scattering pale reflections across his face, carving shadows under his eyes. from a distance, he looks like a statue: unmoving, untouchable, set apart.

but you know him too well. you see the tension in the lines of his shoulders, the way his fingers twitch against his knees like he’s holding something back.

“there you are,” you say softly, settling down beside him. the cushions dip again, shifting you both closer, and you reach for his hand without thinking.

only, he moves. just enough that your fingers brush empty air.

your chest pinches. “...sae?”

his jaw tightens once, and then his voice, quiet, almost too quiet: “you had fun today.”

it takes you a moment to register what he means. “what?”

he turns his head then, finally looking at you. his eyes aren’t burning, aren’t openly angry, but they’re sharp, dark, unreadable in that way of his. the kind of stare that cuts more than it speaks. “with him.”

“you mean shidou?” you blink, startled. “i was just being polite—”

“polite.” sae slices through the word like it’s bitter on his tongue. “you were laughing. i haven’t seen you laugh like that since we got here.”

the comment hits harder than it should. you blink again, defensive. “he’s outrageous, sae. that’s all it was. everyone laughs at him, it doesn’t mean anything.”

his silence presses on you like a hand to your chest.

you push, voice firmer. “it doesn’t.”

“doesn’t it?” he finally says, and the way he says it makes you stop cold. because it isn’t curiosity — it’s accusation.

you feel your pulse spike. “sae, you can’t be serious.”

he leans back slightly, gaze still locked on yours, and for once you wish he’d look away. “you think i didn’t notice? you leaned in. you smiled. you gave him exactly what he wanted.”

your stomach drops. “so what—what are you saying? that i was leading him on?”

his jaw works, the faintest grind of teeth. “i’m not accusing you. i’m telling you what i saw.”

that feels worse. because he isn’t yelling, he isn’t storming — he’s just stating it like fact. like there’s no room for your side.

“sae,” you breathe, shaking your head, “i don’t want him. i’m with you.”

he doesn’t blink. “and if he doesn’t care about that?”

“then you trust me,” you say, firmer now, willing him to believe you. “you trust me to shut it down if he pushes too far. you don’t pull away from me just because some bombshell wants attention.”

the air feels thick with the words you’re both not saying.

he doesn’t answer. his silence is louder than any fight, pressing down until your chest aches.

you reach again, desperate now, fingers brushing his, but his hands stay locked together, knuckles white against the cushion.

“sae.” your voice cracks in the middle, softer than you want it to be. “please don’t do this. don’t push me away over him.”

he exhales, a slow, measured breath, his gaze finally slipping from yours to the pool. the reflections flicker across his skin like fractured light.

“i don’t like games,” he says at last, voice low. “and he does. he’ll try to use you to get to me.”

your throat tightens. “then let him try. i’m not part of his game. i choose you.”

he shakes his head once, almost imperceptible, like he can’t believe you mean it. “maybe you’ll let him.”

the words hit like a slap.

you stare at him, chest hollow. “that’s not fair.”

for the first time, something flickers across his face — a flash of guilt, regret, something that looks almost human. but it’s gone in a blink, shuttered behind that unreadable mask.

“nothing about this villa is fair,” he mutters.

and then he stands.

just like that, he’s gone, leaving you sitting on the daybed alone, cushions still warm where he was.

you sit frozen, staring at the glow of the pool, at your own reflection fractured across the water’s restless surface.

he doesn’t see what you see. doesn’t feel what you feel. you’ve chosen him — cold, difficult, complicated as he is — but all he can see is shidou’s grin and the sound of your laughter that didn’t belong to him.

and you’re left wondering how long before that seed of doubt he’s clutching so tightly will grow into something bigger.

something that could split you in two.

LOSER ! rin itoshi — pretends he doesn't care if you talk to other people, but the way his pencil snaps in half when you laugh at someone else’s joke says otherwise.

LOSER ! rin itoshi — he practices what he'll say to you in the mirror. Out loud. With hand gestures. Then immediately regrets existing.

LOSER ! rin itoshi — once almost texted you "I like you". he threw his phone across the room and spent an hour on the floor recovering.

LOSER ! rin itoshi — rin spends weeks psyching himself up, but every time he tries, it comes out wrong—like, "do you… uh… wanna… study…?" and then he panics.

LOSER ! rin itoshi — practices in front of the mirror at night. he tries different tones: serious, casual, mysterious. ends up mumbling so fast it sounds like one word.

LOSER ! rin itoshi — writes a whole "script" of how it should go in his notebook. accidentally leaves it out once and nearly dies when you almost see it.

LOSER ! rin itoshi — tries to make it sound casual but overthinks every word. he'll be like, “so, uh… there’s this… event. a thing. not important. unless… you wanna… go. with me. or not. whatever.”

LOSER ! rin itoshi — he's shocked when you raise an eyebrow and go: "you're lucky I like you, because that delivery was tragic. i'd love to go with you, rin."

LOSER ! rin itoshi — he freezes. literally stops functioning for a good five seconds before stammering, "w-wait, seriously? don't—don't mess with me."

LOSER ! rin itoshi — "yes, rin. i really mean it," you say, trying not to grin too hard at how adorably awkward he is.

LOSER ! rin itoshi — he spends the entire morning double- and triple-checking his outfit, brushing his hair, adjusting his glasses… then re-adjusting them again five minutes before you arrive.

LOSER ! rin itoshi — he fidgets with his napkin, adjusts his glasses, knocks over his spoon once, and mutters curses under his breath when he notices you watching. you can't resist teasing him: "careful, rin. you're gonna break the cuteness scale before dessert even arrives."

LOSER ! rin itoshi — he opens doors, offers his jacket if you’re cold, and insists on carrying the check (even though it’s tiny). he's trying to act nonchalant but ends up stumbling slightly, cheeks burning, and whispers, "i'm not… not cool… i can do this."

LOSER ! rin itoshi — after months of awkward, adorable dates, teasing, and overthinking, rin finally relaxes around you. he still trips over words sometimes, but now he does it with a little more confidence, knowing you'll laugh with him, not at him.

LOSER ! rin itoshi — even though he's still socially awkward and nerdy as ever, you've become his safe space. he doesn't have to overthink every gesture, because he knows you like him just the way he is.

LOSER ! rin itoshi — and as he fumbled with his glasses, muttered a dozen awkward compliments, and hid his face in his hands, you realized—this messy, nervous, hopelessly adorable nerd was yours, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

a/n : so ooc its crazy...