The hallway was dim. Ten stood at the center, unmoving. Nine stood just a few steps away, her back to the rough pillar, eyes flickering nervously toward the kitchen. She knew better than to look away for too long. Ten's gaze was already fixed on her, unblinking.. Ten was young, but the stillness in the way he carried himself—his calm, unwavering gaze, his lack of expression—made him seem far older.
For a long moment, neither of them moved, neither of them spoke. Then, finally, Ten's voice broke the silence. It was soft, almost soothing, but there was something about it that made Nine's breath hitch.
"Do you know, Nine?" he asked, his words slow, measured, as if they were part of some quiet ritual. "A is coming to visit soon."
Nine blinked, unsure if she'd heard him right. She wasn't sure what to say, so she stayed quiet, watching him, waiting. Ten took a small step toward her, his eyes never leaving hers. His tone was gentle, but the words themselves felt like ice sliding down her spine.
"Do you know what a demon is, Nine?"
Her fingers tightened around her notepad, but she didn't write anything. Her eyes stayed on him, tracking his every movement. She didn't trust herself to speak yet.
"It's not like the ones in those stories," Ten continued, almost casually. "Not the fairy taless Rose tells us. This one... he's real. And he's here." His head tilted just slightly, a quiet smile tugging at the edges of his mouth.
It wasn't a comforting smile. It was controlled. Cold.
"He doesn't care about us, Nine. Not really. He's here for something else. Something... terrible."
Nine felt a chill crawl over her skin. Something terrible? What was he talking about? Ten stepped closer, his voice dropping even further, turning into a whisper that seemed to stretch through the air between them.
"And there's nothing we can do to stop it."
Her pulse quickened, but she couldn't look away. She wasn't sure if it was fear or something else, but there was a magnetic pull to Ten that kept her rooted to the spot.
"You can't stop it," Ten said again, his eyes locking onto hers. "Neither can I. There's nothing either of us can do to change it."
The words hung between them, heavy and suffocating, and Nine's hands shook as she reached for her notepad. She had to understand. She wrote down a question quickly, though her handwriting was barely legible.
What will happen?
Ten didn't answer immediately. He stood there for a moment, watching her, his expression unreadable. When he finally spoke, it was in the same soft, unnerving tone, but his words were like a shiver creeping through the silence.
"The demon," Ten said, his voice almost tender, "wants to see the end of the world. But not just any end. He wants to see it with you... and Father. Only the two of you. You and Father. No one else."
Nine's breath caught in her throat. She didn't know how to respond. The words didn't make sense, but there was an inevitability to them, a certainty in Ten's eyes that made her heart race.
"He doesn't care about anything else," Ten continued, his smile widening ever so slightly, "except that moment. The end. He's chosen you, Nine. Chosen you to see it."
He paused, letting the silence settle between them before adding,
"And there's nothing you can do to escape it."
Nine grabbed her pen, scribbling on the notepad in a desperate attempt to fight the rising panic. But before she could finish, Ten took another step forward. It wasn't rushed. His movements were deliberate, slow, as though he were savoring the moment. He lowered his face closer to hers, his whisper now cutting through the air like a blade.
"The demon's already here," he said softly. "He's been here for a while. Watching. Waiting."
She wanted to run. To scream. But she couldn't. She could only stand there, frozen, trapped in his gaze. Ten straightened up again, pulling back just enough to give her some space, though the tension between them remained unbearable.
"You should go to the kitchen now," he said, his voice still soft, but with a sharp edge that hadn't been there before. "Get the paper. The address. Do it. And don't let anyone see you." Nine didn't respond. Her body was stiff, her mind whirling. What was happening? What was he asking her to do?
"If you don't," Ten's voice was low, almost a growl, "You know."
And then, without warning, he extended his hand, holding two fingers in the shape of a gun, and slowly—deliberately—pressed them against her forehead.
She didn't need him to say more. The threat was clear, the meaning unmistakable. Nine's heart pounded in her ears as she quickly nodded, too afraid to disobey. She turned and walked quickly toward the kitchen, the sound of her footsteps echoing down the hall, but she didn't dare look back. Ten stayed where he was, unmoving, his cold gaze following her every step. There was no urgency in his stance. No concern. He knew what would happen. She would do what he asked. She always did. She wished she could call for her father, but he had already left. Everyone left early, the only adult present was Dr. Fujino. And he was busy working.
***
Nine moved quickly down the hallway, the sound of her footsteps too loud in the stillness, reverberating off the bare walls like a countdown. Her fingers tightened around the notepad, now damp with sweat. Her mind raced. What did he mean? A demon? The end of the world? She tried to focus on the task—getting to the kitchen, finding the paper, retrieving the address—but the words kept circling in her head, growing louder the farther she walked.
She reached the kitchen, her breath coming faster now, her chest tight. The dim light above flickered slightly, casting long shadows across the room. The paper. She had to find the paper. Her eyes darted over the cluttered countertop, the old coffee maker, the dirty dishes in the sink. There was nothing unusual, nothing out of place. But her mind couldn't stop racing, couldn't stop thinking about Ten's cold smile, his unnerving calmness. The demon's already here… watching... waiting... Her heart thudded louder in her chest. She forced herself to take a deep breath and focus. The paper. It had to be here. Her fingers brushed over a stack of papers near the corner of the counter. She flipped through them quickly, hands trembling, until she found it: a plain sheet of paper with an address scrawled across it in jagged handwriting. The address was familiar, but the words themselves sent a shiver down her spine. It didn't make sense.
Why would Ten want this? What was it? This was the Hashimoto's address. The sound of her heartbeat drowned out the rest of the noise in the house as she stood frozen for a moment, staring at the paper, as though if she looked at it long enough, it would explain everything. But the longer she stood there, the more her sense of urgency grew. She had to return to Ten. She had to—there was no choice. The air in the room felt thick, suffocating, and a creeping unease settled in her gut.. With one final glance around the kitchen, Nine tucked the paper into her sleeve and turned back toward the hallway. She hurried back, her footsteps quickening, her pulse racing. She hadn't made it halfway down the hallway before she froze. The air felt different—heavy. As if something had changed in the seconds it took her to walk back. She wasn't alone. Turning slowly, Nine's eyes fell on the figure standing at the end of the hall. The dim light from the distant room barely illuminated him, but she didn't need more detail to know who it was. The shape, the presence, the way the darkness seemed to cling to him... it was unmistakable. The demon. It wasn't how she'd imagined. There were no fangs, no claws. No monstrous form. It was... subtle. A man. Or something that looked like a man. His clothes were dark, blending with the shadows. His face was impossible to read, but something was unsettling about his stillness, the way he seemed to exist in the corners of her vision without fully being there. The absence of his presence was just as suffocating as his physical form. She took a slow step backward, then another, but the demon didn't move. He was just... there. Watching her. What do you want? She thought, but the words couldn't form.
The dread in her chest grew, suffocating her, leaving her paralyzed in place. The silence stretched on, longer than it should have been. Then, the demon spoke.
"It's not about what I want." his voice was like gravel, deep and hollow. "It's about what's already been chosen."
Nine's breath caught in her throat. Chosen? Before she could respond, the demon tilted his head ever so slightly. A small smile played at the edge of his lips, but it wasn't kind. "The game has begun," he said, his tone cold and casual. "And you, little Nine, are part of it."
Her mind was spinning. The game? What did he mean? But she couldn't focus on the question. The pressure in the hallway was building. It felt as though the walls themselves were closing in on her, suffocating her thoughts, crushing her ability to think clearly.
"Don't be afraid," the demon said, though the words were far from comforting. "Fear won't change anything. It's already decided."
The feeling that what was happening—what was about to happen—couldn't be stopped. It was too late.
Then all of a sudden, Nine blinked, and the demon was gone. In its place was Ten. Standing. Was Ten the one talking the whole time? Was she imagining? Nine had so many questions.
The dread in her chest grew, suffocating her, leaving her paralyzed in place. The silence stretched on, longer than it should have been. Then, the demon spoke.
"It's not about what I want, His voice was like gravel, deep and hollow. "It's about what's already been chosen."
Nine's breath caught in her throat. Chosen? Before she could respond, the demon tilted his head ever so slightly. A small smile played at the edge of his lips, but it wasn't kind. "The game has begun," he said, his tone cold and casual. "And you, little Nine, are part of it."
Her mind was spinning. The game? What did he mean? But she couldn't focus on the question. The pressure in the hallway was building. It felt as though the walls themselves were closing in on her, suffocating her thoughts, crushing her ability to think clearly.
"Don't be afraid," the demon said, though the words were far from comforting. "Fear won't change anything. It's already decided."
The feeling that what was happening—what was about to happen—couldn't be stopped. It was too late.
Then all of a sudden, Nine blinked, and the demon was gone. In its place was Ten. Standing. Was Ten the one talking the whole time? Was she imagining? Nine had so many questions.
"Nine, you have what I asked for. But you should understand something. It's never about what you want, Nine," he said. "It's about what they want." His voice seemed to echo, filling the entire space. "And you—well, you're simply a witness."
The words made no sense, but the weight of them pressed down on her chest. The coldness of Ten's gaze, his quiet voice... It felt like the last step in a long, inevitable journey. She hadn't asked for this. She never wanted this. But now, she was trapped in it. And as the demon's presence loomed larger, darker, she understood one thing. There was no escape.
"Why don't you go to sleep, Nine. It's late." Ten grinned.