The silence in the izakaya tightened around Aoi's chest like a vise.
Yamamoto and the regular's grim expressions spoke volumes about the gravity of her situation. Aoi clenched her trembling fists, summoning the courage to speak.
"Tell me. What's going to happen to me? What does that thing want?"
Yamamoto gripped his whiskey glass, avoiding her gaze. The regular answered instead, his voice steady but heavy.
"No one knows for sure. My old man said those chosen by the shadow get… bound to this place. They vanish, or become part of it. Rumor is, the souls from the fire years ago are trying to drag someone else down with them."
The blood drained from Aoi's face. Become part of it—the words echoed in her mind, chilling her to the core. She gripped the counter, her voice barely a whisper.
"That's… that's not real, right? I'm just a part-timer!"
Yamamoto finally spoke, his voice thick with guilt. "Aoi, I didn't want to believe it either. But when the last manager disappeared, I saw it—the shadow swallowed him whole. After that, I kept late shifts to a minimum and never told the younger staff. It's my fault… I failed to protect you."
Anger and fear surged through Aoi as she glared at him. "Why didn't you warn me?! If I'd known this place was dangerous, I never would've taken the job!"
Yamamoto bowed his head, speechless. The regular placed a calming hand on her shoulder. "Blaming him won't help now. The problem is that shadow's still after you. My cross scared it off for now, but it'll be back. Probably soon."
Aoi's breath caught. Her eyes darted to the sliding door. Beyond it, the world was swallowed by darkness, not even a streetlamp's glow piercing the void. The izakaya felt like it was floating in an abyss. Her voice trembled. "What do I do? Escaping… it's pointless, isn't it?"
The regular nodded, pulling the tarnished cross from his pocket. "Running won't cut it. We have to seal or banish the shadow. My dad talked about a way, but it's risky. If it goes wrong, you might… disappear."
Her heart pounded. Disappear. Become part of the shop. She refused to accept that fate. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself. "Tell me. I'll do whatever it takes."
The regular met her gaze, his eyes serious. "That's the spirit. Here's the plan. The shadow's tied to the fire that burned this place down. My dad said there's an old altar in the basement, the source of the fire. Destroy it, and the shadow's power weakens. But it'll guard the altar. I'll use the cross to clear a path—you smash the altar."
Yamamoto cut in, his face pale. "Wait, a basement altar? I've never heard of that! You can't make Aoi do something that dangerous!"
Aoi shook her head. "If I don't do this, it'll never end, right? Then let's do it. Tonight. We end this."
The regular nodded and pointed to an old wooden door at the back of the izakaya. "The stairs to the basement are there. Get ready. We move before the shadow returns."
Aoi grabbed a hammer from the kitchen. The regular clutched his cross, instructing Yamamoto to keep watch. The three stood before the door. Aoi opened it, and a frigid gust from below stung her skin. The staircase descended into darkness, its end hidden from view. The regular went first, holding the cross aloft.
"Stay close, Aoi. Don't fall behind."
Hammer in hand, she followed him down.
The basement air was damp and oppressive, the walls scarred with blackened burn marks—remnants of the fire. At the bottom of the stairs, they entered a cramped room. In the center stood a moss-covered stone altar, surrounded by a faint, shadowy mist. Aoi's ears rang with the man's voice.
"You… are mine."
The shadow materialized before the altar. Aoi raised the hammer, but its icy grip seemed to squeeze her heart. The regular thrust the cross forward, shouting.
"Aoi, now! Destroy the altar!"