Yuzuha flipped a page of her book, eyes scanning the lines, but the words blurred, unread. She sighed, pressing a hand against her temple.
"Even a short detachment helps to refine the mind," she murmured to herself, feeling a brief sense of calm.
Then—
Beep.
Her phone vibrated against the wooden table. A message.
Yuzuha glanced at the screen, her heart skipping a beat. Unknown sender.
"Who…?"she whispered, her fingers hesitating before unlocking her phone.
Good evening, Yuzuha.
A chill crawled up her spine. Something about those words felt… wrong. She swallowed and typed back, her hands trembling.
Good evening.
As soon as she hit send, another message arrived.
Run. Cut off your friends for a while. But reply to this message.
Her pulse quickened. Her mind flashed to Eiji's wounds, to the blood on his hands, to the fear in his eyes.
But before she could think, another message lit up the screen.
I see through you, Yuzuha. Through every cell of your body.
Her breath hitched.
Her fingers, slick with sweat, barely gripped the phone as her vision swayed. She swallowed hard.
"W-What are you talking about?"
Another message.
And then—
A video.
She clicked it.
Her body turned to ice.
It was her. Completely exposed.
Every. Inch.
Yuzuha's phone slipped from her grasp, crashing onto the floor. Her breath shattered into short, erratic gasps. Her stomach clenched so hard it ached.
She forced herself to pick up the phone, her fingers shaking violently as she typed.
Who are you? Do you want to share this video? Do you want to create a deepfake?
Her message was frantic, words tumbling over themselves.
The reply came instantly.
If I wanted to expose you, I would have done it already. Now, obey me, or your life will be hell.
Yuzuha's hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms.
Then—
Ding dong.
Her doorbell.
Her body froze.
"No. No, no, no, no—"
She forced her trembling legs to move, creeping toward the door. Her breath was uneven, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
Peering through the keyhole.
No one.
Just the empty, suffocating hallway.
But on the ground—
A black velvet box.
A message popped onto her phone.
Open it.
Her hands were unsteady as she picked up the box, fingers lingering on the ribbon before she finally untied it.
Inside—
A silk red dress and a diamond locket, thin and delicate.
Another message.
Wear it.
Yuzuha swallowed. Her body was screaming no, don't, run, but her mind was trapped in a haze of fear. Slowly, she slipped into the dress, its fabric unnervingly smooth against her skin. She put on the locket, its cold metal pressing against her collarbone.
Another message.
No shoes.
Yuzuha inhaled sharply. She looked down at her bare feet, her mind spinning. He was watching her. Right now. Somehow, some way.
Then—
Riiiiing.
Her phone vibrated violently in her hands. The screen blinked with an incoming call.
Her breath choked in her throat.
The call was picked up—automatically.
She gasped, pressing the phone to her ear.
A voice.
Deep. Cold. Amused.
"Welcome back, Yuzuha."
She felt her heartbeat slamming against her ribs.
The voice chuckled, the sound slithering into her bones.
"Yuzuha, my dear fairy. Or… should I say, my porcelain doll?"
Her blood turned to ice.
"Who… are you?" she whispered.
A dark laugh.
"Tsk, tsk. How many times must I remind you?"
Yuzuha bit her lip, her hands trembling.
"Go outside."
Her stomach twisted.
"No…" her voice barely left her lips.
Another chuckle.
"Crying already? My, my. You truly are weak."
Something inside her snapped.
"I am NOT weak."
A pause. Then, the voice, rich with amusement—
"Oh? Then prove it."
A suffocating silence filled the room.
"Step outside."
Her fingers hovered over the doorknob. The air felt thick, pressing against her lungs.
She opened the door.
And stepped into the night.
The street was empty. The world felt abandoned, stripped of sound, stripped of life. The streetlights flickered weakly.
Her phone buzzed.
"Turn right."
Yuzuha walked, each step feeling heavier. The pavement was cold beneath her feet, the wind brushing against her bare skin like ghostly fingertips.
"Keep walking. Until I say stop."
The night grew darker. The buildings thinned out. She was walking into the unknown.
Then—
"Stop."
Yuzuha froze.
The voice whispered—
"Turn around."
A slow, suffocating dread crept up her spine.
She turned.
And there, stepping from the shadows—
A tall figure.
Draped in a long, flowing black cloak, the fabric whispering against the ground. His presence devoured the moonlight.
Her breath caught in her throat.
He tilted his head. Watching. Studying. Consuming.
A smirk curled at the corners of his lips.
"Welcome, Yuzuha,"he said softly.
His voice, like silk and razors, slithered through the cold air.
"My little throne."