That night, Kai barely managed to make it home. He avoided the gaze of his parents, skipped dinner, and locked himself in his room. His hands were still trembling. The glowing eyes in the darkness—they were real. Or at least they felt real.
He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, the events of the day replaying in a chaotic loop in his mind. Every blink brought a flash—the girl in the hallway, the whispering note, the presence in the library.
He didn't remember when he finally slipped into sleep. All he knew was that the moment he did, he regretted it.
He found himself back in school, but it wasn't quite right.
Everything was dim, washed out like an old photograph. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, flickering weakly. Kai sat at his desk in homeroom, but the teacher was gone. The blackboard was blank. The students around him were motionless, their faces obscured by static—blurred, as if censored by some unseen force.
Then, one by one, they began to turn their heads toward him. Slowly. Synchronously.
No mouths. No eyes. Just blank faces.
Kai stood up, backing away from them, but the classroom stretched and twisted, becoming a maze of shifting hallways. Doors multiplied and disappeared. The air was thick, suffocating.
And then—he heard it.
A whisper.
A single voice, sharp and wet, as though spoken just beside his ear:"You were never supposed to see."
He turned, but no one was there.
Suddenly, Kai was no longer in the school. He stood in a narrow, windowless room lined entirely with mirrors. Dozens of reflections stared back at him, each one distorted in a different way.
One was grinning too wide.One had hollow sockets where eyes should be.One bled black tears.And one… didn't move when he did.
That one held a note up to the mirror. Kai leaned closer.
It read:
"You let her disappear."
He looked at the reflection's face. It wasn't his.It was Mei Yamada. Mouth stitched shut.Eyes filled with sorrow.
The lights went out.
Kai shot up in bed, drenched in sweat, gasping for air. The room was dark—too dark. His phone wouldn't turn on. The air felt cold, pressing against his skin like water.
He stumbled toward the window, pulling open the curtain.
And for a moment—just a moment—he saw her.
Mei Yamada. Standing beneath the streetlamp.Soaking wet. Eyes locked with his.Mouth moving silently.Hands trembling as she pointed—up at him.
Then she was gone.
The phone screen flickered back to life.One new message. No sender.
"Wake up before it finds you."
Kai didn't sleep again. He sat with his back against the wall until dawn crept in through the window. The nightmare still clawed at him, its imagery burned into his mind.
When his alarm went off, he flinched violently.
He felt raw. Shaken. But more than anything, he felt something had changed. He hadn't just dreamed. He'd seen something. Something real.
And someone—or something—was trying to warn him.