Yuki walked fast.
Not enough to draw attention to the surrounding students in the hallway, but fast enough that her bag bounced a little with each step.
I'll just ask her directly if she told the therapist anything.
She glanced up at the clock near the lockers.
Seven minutes before the first bell.
Classroom 2-B was just ahead.
She slid the door open.
But the person sitting at Miss Nishimura's desk wasn't her.
It was someone else. A younger woman, maybe in her early twenties. She looked very nervous as she flipped through a stack of papers.
Yuki stepped in slowly.
The woman looked up.
"Ah. Good morning. You must be... Ayano-san?"
Yuki nodded.
"Yes. I'm here for Miss Nishimura's class."
The woman smiled.
"I'm filling in for her today. She's not feeling well."
Yuki's heart sank.
"She's not here?"
"No, sorry. It's nothing serious. She just asked me to cover for her."
Yuki nodded, but her chest felt tight.
"Did she go to the hospital?"
The woman shrugged.
"She didn't really say where she was going."
"I'll be right back. Just need to make a quick call."
The substitute teacher nodded.
"Of course. Just letting you know, class starts in five minutes."
Yuki stepped out into the hall, pulled out her phone, and tapped Miss Nishimura's name.
She held it to her ear.
It rang. Once. Twice.
No answer.
She lowered the phone and stared at the floor.
Her mind was spinning, and something in her body felt wrong, like a thread had been tugged loose.
Out of the corner of her eye, something moved.
She looked up, toward the end of the hallway.
The window stood still, but right in front of it — just for a second —
A doll.
The male one from her living room.
Standing upright.
Watching her.
Then it vanished.
Yuki blinked. Hard.
She rubbed her eyes and looked again.
Nothing was there.
I'm just tired. That's all it is.
The bell rang.
She slid her phone back into her bag and walked back to class.
Hours passed.
Yuki sat still, barely hearing a thing her substitute teacher was saying. But at least it was finally time for lunch.
Kenji Igaguri stared at his locker.
His fingers clenched around the small black box in his bag.
He peeked around the corner.
Yuki was walking alone toward the cafeteria.
Okay. Just walk up. Say something. Give her the chocolates. Then walk away.
He stepped forward.
Then Riko showed up out of nowhere.
She grabbed Yuki by the wrist and pulled her toward the stairs.
Kenji stopped.
"Damn it, Riko..." he muttered in anger.
He followed from a distance.
They went up to the rooftop.
Kenji waited a second, then opened the metal door.
The wind was gentle.
The sun was bright.
Riko and Yuki sat near the edge of the rooftop.
Riko had her lunch box open. She had packed multiple egg omelets.
Yuki was eating from her lunch since she hadn't packed anything for herself.
Then Riko looked up and noticed him.
"Hey, Igaguri? What are you doing here?"
Kenji stiffened.
"I just wanted to see Ayano. If that's okay."
Yuki didn't react.
Riko nudged her.
"He's talking to you."
Yuki blinked.
"Oh. Sorry. Come sit with us, Igaguri."
He stepped closer and pulled the black box from behind his back.
"I wanted to give you this," he said.
Yuki looked down.
"Chocolates?"
He nodded.
"You said you liked dark chocolate. I remembered."
Riko chuckled.
"Creepy stalker behavior, noted."
"I think it's sweet. Thank you," Yuki said, smiling.
Kenji scratched the back of his neck.
"Just thought you could use a reason to smile."
"Really? Thank you, Igaguri. Come eat with us," Yuki said.
"Oh! Really? Okay, thanks," Kenji said, smiling as he blushed.
A few minutes passed as they all started eating.
Kenji kept glancing Yuki's way, like he had more to say but couldn't say it.
"Have you been following the disappearances?" Kenji asked.
"People are vanishing. My cousin said he saw someone disappear right in front of him at the train station."
Yuki didn't react.
Riko waved her hand in front of Yuki's face.
"You've been out of it today. You okay?"
Yuki blinked.
"Sorry. I haven't been sleeping well. But yeah, I heard you, Igaguri. It's the first I've heard of any of that, honestly."
Riko leaned back.
"I think it's fake. Some weird internet thing. I don't believe in the supernatural."
Kenji stood up.
"I think it's real. It's been on the news."
"Since when does the news tell the truth?" Riko pointed.
"You always say stuff like that," Kenji frowned.
"And you always fall for it," Riko snapped.
They kept arguing.
Yuki stood up.
"I need some time alone. Sorry."
Both of them stopped and looked at Yuki as she walked away.
Riko frowned and pointed at Kenji.
"Look what you did."
Kenji blinked.
"What!? Me?"
The sun was lower now.
The sky had turned a deep orange.
Yuki's shadow stretched across the street as she walked home.
She looked around. For a second, she felt like she was being watched.
She quickly glanced up at a convenience store rooftop.
She thought she saw two shadowy figures standing there.
She shook her head.
Kept walking.
I really gotta go to bed. I'm way too tired.
Up ahead, she saw Kenji.
He was walking pretty fast.
Yuki picked up the pace as she quickly looked down at her bag.
The chocolate box was still there.
She smiled. Just a little.
She ran forward.
"Hey! Igaguri! Thanks for the—"
Kenji turned a corner into an alleyway.
Yuki ran forward, trying to catch up, and turned the corner too.
"Hey! Igaguri—"
She stopped.
His clothes were on the ground.
Empty.
Still shaped like he had been standing there just a second ago.
But Kenji was gone.
Completely gone.
Her legs gave out, and she dropped to her knees.
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
It felt so loud it hurt.
No... no, this isn't real. He was just here. He was right here.
She crawled forward and grabbed his clothes.
They were warm.
Yuki quickly got up and ran.
She burst through the door of her house, slammed it shut, and dropped the bag and Kenji's clothes onto the living room floor.
Her chest was pounding.
Her breathing was short and fast.
Her head spun.
Then—
She looked at the couch.
The dolls were gone.
Her blood ran cold.
A sound came from the kitchen.
She moved toward it, slowly, trying not to make a sound.
She peeked around the corner.
The dolls were moving.
Their stiff bodies dragged across the kitchen floor.
They were making a circle.
Using tomato sauce.
Yuki slapped her hand over her mouth.
Are they... alive?
She peeked again.
The dolls stopped.
Then they screeched, making a high, broken sound, and rushed at her.
Yuki screamed and ran back into the living room.
She grabbed a broomstick and swung it as hard as she could—
One doll caught it in the air and snapped it in half.
She turned for the door.
But it was too late.
They grabbed her.
She fell. Curled into a ball.
"SOMEBODY HELP ME!!"
The front door burst open.
Wind blasted into the room, throwing the dolls against the walls.
Cracks ran across the walls.
Trash flew across the ceiling.
Yuki opened her eyes, blinking through her tears.
Two people were standing in the doorway.
A man and a woman, both dressed in black.
She could only see their backs.
Then the man stepped forward.
And spoke.
"I knew we'd meet again, Little Ayano."
Her whole body froze.
That voice — she remembered it.
She didn't know where at first, but as the man walked further into the room, it hit her.
The therapist...?
And the woman standing beside him, cold and calm, with straight black hair and glasses — that was the same woman from the front desk.
The receptionist.
Yuki's legs wouldn't move.
Suddenly, the dolls started moving again.
They grabbed each other. They held on tight.
Their arms twisted. Their legs bent the wrong way.
The dolls pushed into each other, like they were trying to fit into the same skin.
It grew.
Taller.
And taller.
It scraped the ceiling.
Two heads formed.
One looked like her mother.
One looked like her father.
Both faces were missing eyes.
Black holes stared back at her.
Blood dripped from their faces.
Their claws were long and sharp.
Then the dolls opened their mouths.
And screamed.
"Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?"
They screamed the same word over and over, like Yuki had done something terrible.
The therapist didn't flinch.
He raised his hand.
A scythe appeared in it.
Yuki's eyes widened.
Then he turned to look at her.
And grinned like a monster.
It wasn't a normal grin.
It was wide, calm, and inhuman.
"Two thousand dollars," he said.
Yuki screamed, "OKAY! OKAY! FINE! JUST PLEASE DESTROY THAT THING!"
The man chuckled, almost pleased.
"Excellent. It's a pleasure doing business with you, Little Ayano."
The therapist didn't waste any time.
He looked at the woman beside him.
"Open the gate."
The receptionist raised her hand and started drawing shapes in the air.
The room got colder.
Behind the demon, the air cracked open.
A small black portal tore into the wall.
It wasn't big — just enough to pull anything close to it.
The wind picked up fast.
Some of the trash and papers near the demon got sucked inside.
But the heavier stuff — the broken chairs, the couch — stayed where they were, shaking but not moving too much.
The demon screamed.
It dug its claws into the floor, trying to hold on.
Yuki felt the pull too.
She stumbled back and grabbed the edge of the doorway.
Her arms shook.
Her legs kicked into the air.
The therapist didn't even glance at her.
He kept walking toward the demon.
Slow steps.
Scythe in hand.
Then—
One clean swing.
The scythe slashed straight through the demon's body.
The demon split in two.
Its body started shrinking fast, like something letting the air out of a balloon.
The two heads shrieked as the broken body was dragged into the portal.
The receptionist moved her hand once more.
The portal slammed shut.
Everything went still.
Yuki didn't know how long she stayed there, gripping the doorway.
Her arms were numb.
Her legs were shaking.
Her whole body felt cold, even though the room was hot and full of dust.
Slowly, she let go.
She stumbled into the living room.
The house was wrecked.
Trash stuck to the walls and ceiling.
The windows were cracked and dirty.
The whole place smelled like dust, rotten food, and tomato sauce.
She wiped her face with her sleeve.
Her hands came away sticky with dirt.
Was that real?
Did that really happen?
She didn't know.
Her eyes wandered across the floor.
That's when she saw it.
A piece of paper, lying near the door.
She walked over and picked it up with trembling hands.
There was a note, written in neat handwriting.
Your bill is 2000 USD.
You can pay cash or credit.
My receptionist will be waiting for you at my clinic.
Sincerely, your therapist—
Sasaki Shin.