Hanako, his eyes unwavering, filled with determination and sorrow, reaches for the green tea. He drinks.
In an instant, the world bleeds into red. The once-bright void twists and shatters, unraveling into the ancient ruin we were previously at.. Crumbled stones groan and shift, reforming- time rewinding in violent bursts. Towering torii gates rise from the ground, dark and imposing. Their long shadows stretch unnaturally, smothering the light.
The man in yellow stands, his form rippling unnervingly. His hand reaches for Hanako, trembling with urgency.
"A deal is a deal," he growls, his voice no longer smooth but raw and jagged. He seizes the boy's hand. Fire lances through Hanako's skin, a burning brand searing into his flesh.Seven leaves burst from his flesh, spiraling into a bracelet of gnarled, blackened ivy. Each leaf glimmers wetly, dark and sickly green, like they've been plucked from something rotting.
Hanako screams, a sound that isn't entirely his own. It's ripped from him, distorted and raw. The air twists around him, thickening like tar, the light of the blood red sky dimming to a choking, oppressive grey.
From the periphery of his blurred vision, the dog and cat emerge — their eyes wide, burning with something between fear and fury. They lunge forward, but the man in yellow snarls.
The sound is wrong — too loud, too layered, his voice splitting into multiple, clashing tones. His body spasms, grotesquely jerking, limbs stretching unnaturally. His neck snaps to the side with a sickening crack, his shoulders following suit. Bones pop and groan, reshaping beneath his skin. He swells, distorting into something inhuman, his yellow cloak sagging over a frame that no longer fits. His arms split and twist like gnarled roots, bending backward and sideways with wet, tearing noises.
"STAY OUT OF THIS, GUARDIANS!" the man roars, his voice a cacophony, echoing from places it shouldn't. "YOU'RE TOO LATE — THE DEAL IS SEALED."
A second face pushes through the back of his head, the flesh splitting like overripe fruit. It's abstract, fungal, pulsing with sickly veins — but Hanako can feel it staring. Its presence alone is enough to make his stomach churn, his throat tighten.
With a flick of one grotesque hand, the ground shudders. Thorned vines burst forth, writhing like serpents, slamming into the dog and cat. They're yanked backward, ensnared. The thorns dig in, wet and hungry, the sound of tearing flesh cutting through. They thrash, but the bonds coil tighter, constricting like living wire.
The man in yellow laughs. It's a hollow, guttural sound, vibrating in Hanako's chest — too close, too loud. Like it's inside him.
"In seven days, you will perish," the 'man' declares, voice low and rumbling, a death knell that vibrates through the marrow of Hanako's bones. "Your soul will be the toll. In exchange, your precious companion will live. Ten years of borrowed time. Ten years of light stolen from your shadow."
The bracelet of leaves tightens around Hanako's wrist. He gasps, his breath hitching as the final leaf unfurls, slick and black, its edges already curling. It pulses once, like a heartbeat.
"The last leaf will fall," the man in yellow hisses, leaning closer, his rotting breath warm against Hanako's ear. "And with it, you will follow — swallowed by the earth, forgotten."
The earth groans, a deep, endless sound, like the world itself is straining against the weight of the deal. Hanako's vision swims, his knees buckling as the air thickens, pressing down on him.
The man in yellow tilts his head unnaturally, the fungal face twitching and pulsing behind him. His laughter rises again, louder this time — a terrible, jubilant sound. It cracks the air like thunder, splintering the world itself.
Suddenly …