"Unexplained incidents are currently under investigation by the authorities as panic slowly consumes the masses of Tokyo. Paired with the impending hurricane that is about to make landfall next week, many people have stated that they feel unsafe even walking outside their homes. Please bring an umbrella if you are planning to go out today."
"The next station is Shibuya, Shibuya. Passengers transferring to the Tokyu Lines, JR Lines, or Keio Inokashira Line, please change trains here."
Kazuma blinked a few times as multiple passengers prepared to disembark as the train slowly came to a halt. He grabbed his belongings and joined the other passengers waiting for the doors to open.
"The doors are opening. Please stay within the yellow line until the door is fully open for safe disembarking. Thank you for travelling with us."
Ker-clunk!
As soon as the door opened, passengers simultaneously left the train as others entered. Kazuma joined the crowd as he listlessly walked his way out of the station.
Shibuya.
The place that is widely considered the beating heart of modern youth culture, fashion, and entertainment in Tokyo, and the birthplace of many Japanese fashion, music, and pop-culture trends, anchored by spots like Shibuya 109 and Center Gai.
Everywhere a person looks, you will find locals, tourists, and other people walking around. One can rarely see Shibuya quiet, no matter what time of day it is.
Looking at the sky, the overcast clouds are clearly showing signs of impending rain, Kazuma sighed before pulling out the umbrella out of his backpack.
Pulling his umbrella from his backpack, Kazuma pressed the button and watched its canopy unfold above his head.
He barely had time to take a few steps before someone brushed past his shoulder, followed by another person who muttered a hurried apology without looking back. The sidewalks were as crowded as ever, with people squeezing past one another beneath the gray sky. Some carried umbrellas of their own, while others hurried toward nearby shops in the hope of avoiding the rain.
Kazuma adjusted the strap of his backpack and continued walking.
He had never particularly liked crowded places. The noise, the endless stream of unfamiliar faces, and the feeling of being surrounded by people who had somewhere to go had always left him somewhat exhausted. On an ordinary day, he might have taken his time exploring the streets of Shibuya. Today, however, he had little reason to linger.
He had an appointment to keep.
And a house to see.
The thought still felt somewhat unreal.
Only a few days ago, he had been informed by the lawyer handling his late parents' estate that they had left him a property in Tokyo. Not an apartment or a small plot of land, but an actual house. Apparently, it had remained under their names for years, and with no other immediate family members to inherit it, the property had now passed to him.
Kazuma had known surprisingly little about his parents' lives before they had settled down to raise him. They had never been particularly secretive, but neither had they spoken much about their past. He had never thought there was anything unusual about that.
Now, he wasn't so sure.
After checking the directions on his phone, Kazuma made his way toward Yoyogi-Hachiman.
The further he walked from the heart of Shibuya, the more the scenery began to change.
The towering commercial buildings gradually gave way to smaller structures, and the enormous screens and colorful advertisements that had dominated his view began to disappear behind rows of buildings and roadside trees. The crowds thinned as well. There were still people on the streets, of course, but they no longer seemed to be moving in every conceivable direction at once.
He passed a small café with a handful of customers seated by its windows, a convenience store with a bicycle parked outside, and a narrow alley where several potted plants had been arranged beside an apartment entrance.
It was a part of Tokyo he rarely had any reason to visit.
Despite being so close to Shibuya, the neighborhood possessed a different atmosphere. The streets were narrower, the buildings shorter, and the pace of life noticeably slower. The occasional car rolled past, its tires hissing against the damp pavement, while overhead power lines stretched between utility poles above the houses.
For a while, the only sounds accompanying Kazuma were the footsteps of passersby and the rustling of leaves stirred by the wind.
Then, as he turned onto another street, the first drops of rain struck his umbrella.
Tap.
Tap-tap.
Within seconds, the pattering grew louder.
Kazuma glanced up at the sky. The clouds had darkened considerably since his arrival at Shibuya, forming a thick blanket of gray that concealed nearly all traces of sunlight. The weather forecast hadn't been exaggerating, it seemed.
He quickened his pace.
The rain wasn't particularly heavy yet, but the wind carried a damp chill that seeped through his clothes. Somewhere in the distance, a low rumble of thunder rolled across the city.
Next week's hurricane was already enough to worry about. With the unexplained incidents occurring throughout Tokyo, the last thing he wanted was to get caught outside when the weather turned truly unpleasant.
Fortunately, he was almost there.
According to the address provided by the lawyer, the property was situated a short distance from Yoyogi-Hachiman Shrine. It wasn't directly beside the shrine, but it was close enough that he could reach it on foot without much trouble.
Kazuma turned down a residential street and slowed.
The houses here were older than the ones he'd passed earlier. Some were modest two-story homes with narrow front yards, while others had been renovated into modern residences with clean facades and neatly trimmed hedges. Small gates separated the properties from the road, and rainwater had begun collecting along the edges of the pavement.
There were fewer people around now.
A woman carrying groceries hurried beneath the awning of a nearby house. A bicycle leaned against a wall, its seat already glistening with rain. Beyond that, the street was empty.
Kazuma checked his phone once more.
The address was correct.
He walked a little farther before stopping in front of a tall, dark gate.
"...This is it?"
He looked from his phone to the property beyond the bars.
The house stood farther back from the street than he had expected, concealed behind a high perimeter wall and a modest front garden. It wasn't a mansion by any stretch of the imagination, but it was considerably larger than the average house in the neighborhood. Its enclosed grounds appeared spacious enough to accommodate a small garden, a pond, and several mature trees without making the building itself feel cramped.
The exterior was surprisingly well preserved.
Dark wooden beams framed the walls, while the tiled roof extended over the eaves in a traditional style. The house had two stories, with a broad entrance and several tall windows overlooking the front grounds. Although the architecture was unmistakably old-fashioned, there was a certain elegance to its proportions that modern buildings rarely possessed.
It looked less like an ordinary residence and more like a house that had been passed down through generations.
An ancestral home, perhaps.
If someone had told Kazuma that the property had belonged to the same family for a hundred years, he might have believed them.
He reached for the gate and pushed.
It opened with a low, metallic creak.
The sound carried farther than he expected through the quiet grounds.
Kazuma stepped inside, carefully closing the gate behind him. A stone path led from the entrance toward the front door, bordered by patches of overgrown grass and shrubs that had clearly been left unattended for some time. The rain had darkened the stones, and weeds poked through the gaps between them.
A shallow pond occupied one side of the yard.
Or, at least, it had probably been a pond once.
The water was murky and stagnant, its surface covered with fallen leaves and a thin layer of green algae. A few stones lined its edges, while the remains of what might once have been a small stone lantern stood crooked beside it. There were no fish, no movement beneath the water, and certainly no sign that anyone had cleaned the place in years.
Kazuma stared at it for a moment.
They really left this place unattended for a long time.
The thought was understandable. The house itself might have been maintained well enough to preserve its exterior, but the garden told a different story. The branches of the trees had grown wild, the bushes were uneven, and the pond looked as though it had been slowly reclaiming itself.
Yet the property wasn't ruined.
Far from it.
Despite the neglect, the house still stood proudly behind its garden walls, its dark wooden exterior and traditional roof lending it a quiet dignity. Even beneath the gloomy sky, it possessed a peculiar charm.
A charm that made Kazuma feel strangely out of place.
He couldn't explain why.
Perhaps it was simply the unfamiliarity of standing before a house that belonged to him. Or perhaps it was the realization that, from this moment onward, he would be living somewhere his parents had chosen to keep long before he knew it existed.
He walked up the stone path, his umbrella shielding him from the steadily intensifying rain.
When he reached the entrance, he stopped beneath the overhanging eaves and shook the water from his umbrella.
For a moment, he looked back toward the gate.
Beyond the walls, Tokyo continued with its usual bustle, even as the approaching storm darkened the sky. Somewhere beyond the surrounding houses lay Shibuya, its crowds, its enormous screens, and its endless stream of people going about their lives.
Here, however, the world seemed strangely distant.
Kazuma turned toward the front door and took the keys from his pocket.
One of them had been handed to him by his contact earlier that day. The other had come with the documents from the lawyer.
He wasn't entirely sure which belonged to the front entrance.
After trying the first key, he felt the lock turn with a soft click.
The door opened.
A faint smell of old wood and dust drifted out from the dim interior.
Kazuma stood at the threshold, looking into the house his parents had left behind.
"...Well, here goes nothing."
The sliding door is still functional without any signs that it is about to collapse.
Upon opening the door, the smell of dust and aged wood welcomed his nose. It is a clear sign that despite the looks of the house, no one has lived inside that house for years.
Despite that, there are still some furniture ready to be used for him like the Shoe rack and umbrella rack on the side of the entrance. Closing the foldable umbrella and letting the excess water drop for a bit, he put hanged the wet umbrella on the rack to dry before he removed his shoes and put it on the shoe rack.
Since Kazuma is not sure whether the floor had some debris that can be harmful if he went inside barefoot, he pulled out his slipper before entering the living room. Flipping the switch on the wall, the lights came to life as it illuminated the area and revealing the entirety to Kazuma.
Just like what the caretaker who handled with the finalizing process of the house, there's plenty of furniture that seemed to be covered and preserved for the next person to live in the house.
A Sofa set, a table stand for the Television, a small living room table, some bookcases and even a few shelves. Kazuma can either get rid of them, or keep them and customize the living room for himself.
Moving to the kitchen, it is a bit barebones with only some empty cupboards and cabinets and an electric stove that has been left behind. Kazuma tested it and from the looks of it, it does still work.
Kazuma turned the knob back to its original position before moving away from the stove.
"Well, at least the electricity still works."
That was one less thing he needed to worry about.
He glanced around the kitchen, opening a few of the cupboards and cabinets out of curiosity. Most were empty, save for a handful of forgotten utensils and a few ceramic bowls that had been left behind. There was no food in the refrigerator, and the shelves were bare enough to make it clear that whoever had last prepared a meal here had done so a very long time ago.
The kitchen itself wasn't particularly modern, but it was spacious enough for one person to cook without constantly bumping into furniture. Wooden cabinets lined the walls, their surfaces showing signs of age without appearing damaged. A broad countertop occupied one side of the room, while a sink sat beneath a window overlooking the side of the garden.
Beyond the kitchen was a dining area separated from the living room by a wide opening.
A rectangular wooden table stood in the middle, surrounded by six chairs. Like the furniture in the living room, everything had been covered with protective cloth. Kazuma pulled one corner of the covering away, revealing a polished surface that had somehow survived years of neglect with little more than a thin layer of dust.
He ran a finger across it.
"...Six people?"
He couldn't imagine needing this much space for himself.
Still, it wasn't as though he could complain about having too much room. If anything, he would rather have a house that was too large than find himself cramped inside a tiny apartment.
After covering the table again, Kazuma continued exploring.
The ground floor was considerably larger than he had initially assumed. Beyond the kitchen and dining area, a hallway extended toward the back of the house, connecting several rooms and a staircase leading to the second floor.
The wooden flooring creaked faintly beneath his slippers as he walked.
The first door he opened revealed a small washroom containing a toilet and a compact sink. Everything appeared functional, although he would need to check whether the plumbing was still in good condition before relying on it.
The next room was a little more surprising.
It was a spacious bathroom, considerably larger than the cramped bathing spaces he had grown accustomed to seeing in ordinary Japanese homes. Pale tiles covered the floor and walls, and a deep bathtub occupied one side of the room. Beside it was a separate shower area with a handheld showerhead, a faucet, and a small stool.
There was even a water-heating control panel mounted on the wall.
Kazuma approached it and inspected the buttons.
He didn't bother turning anything on yet. The house had been vacant for years, and he had no intention of discovering a plumbing problem by flooding the bathroom on his first day.
Nevertheless, the facilities looked far better than he had expected from a house of this age. The bathroom had clearly been renovated at some point, replacing what might once have been a more traditional bathing area with something considerably more convenient.
At least he wouldn't have to boil water just to take a bath.
That alone was a relief.
He closed the door and continued down the hallway.
The next room was completely empty.
It was a Japanese-style room with tatami flooring, wooden trim, and a pair of sliding doors that opened toward a narrow section of the garden. A shallow alcove had been built into one wall, though it currently contained nothing. Without furniture or decorations, the room felt almost unnaturally spacious.
Kazuma stepped inside and looked around.
He could easily imagine placing a low table and some cushions here. Alternatively, the room could serve as a guest room if he ever had someone staying overnight.
Not that he expected to receive many guests anytime soon.
He slid the doors shut before moving to the final room on the ground floor.
This one was larger and had ordinary wooden flooring rather than tatami. There was a broad window overlooking the rear garden, along with a built-in closet and a few shelves attached to the wall. Apart from those fixtures, the room was completely bare.
It looked as though someone had intended to use it as a bedroom or perhaps a private study, but had never gotten around to furnishing it.
Kazuma stood in the doorway for a moment.
Two empty rooms on the ground floor, a spacious bathroom, a separate toilet, a kitchen, a dining area, and a living room.
The house was beginning to feel less like an ordinary residence and more like a place intended to accommodate an entire family.
He could use the empty rooms for storage, turn one into a workspace, or leave them untouched until he figured out what he wanted to do with them.
For now, he had more pressing concerns.
He still hadn't seen the second floor.
Kazuma returned to the hallway and stopped at the foot of the staircase.
Unlike the modern staircases he was familiar with, these steps were made of dark wood, their edges slightly rounded from years of use. A simple wooden railing ran along one side. The construction looked sturdy enough, but he still tested the first step with his foot before climbing.
It held.
One step at a time, he made his way upstairs.
The upper floor opened into a short hallway with several doors on either side. A window at the far end allowed what little daylight remained to filter inside, casting a dull gray glow across the wooden floorboards.
Kazuma glanced toward the first door.
Then the second.
Then the third.
"...How many rooms does this place have?"
He had known the house was large, but seeing it from the inside was an entirely different experience. The exterior had given him the impression of a spacious family home. He hadn't expected there to be so many separate rooms.
He decided to investigate them one by one.
The first room was relatively small, with wooden flooring, a built-in closet, and a window overlooking the neighboring houses. There was enough space for a single bed, a desk, and perhaps a small wardrobe, but little else.
It would make a reasonable guest bedroom.
The second room was considerably larger. Tatami covered the floor, and a broad set of windows overlooked the front garden. The room was empty apart from a built-in closet and a shallow alcove similar to the one downstairs.
Unlike the first room, this one felt suited to several purposes. It could be used as a guest room, a reading room, or even a quiet place to relax away from the rest of the house.
Kazuma could already imagine spreading a few cushions across the floor and spending an afternoon reading there while listening to the rain.
The thought was unexpectedly appealing.
He moved on to the next door.
This room was long and relatively narrow, with bookshelves built into one wall and a wide window facing the side of the property. The shelves were empty, but the room itself looked as though it had once served as a private study.
A small desk could fit comfortably beneath the window, leaving enough space for additional bookcases or filing cabinets.
Kazuma leaned against the doorframe.
A study wouldn't be a bad idea. He could use it to organize documents, work on his own projects, or keep anything he didn't want scattered around the house.
He made a mental note to consider it later.
Finally, he reached the last door at the end of the hallway.
Judging from its position and the width of the doorway, this room was probably the largest upstairs.
Kazuma slid the door open.
And paused.
"...Oh."
The room was much larger than he had expected.
A bed stood against one wall, accompanied by a small bedside drawer table. A study table and chair occupied the area beside the window, while several tall bookcases stood against the opposite wall. There was even enough open floor space between the furniture for him to walk around without feeling cramped.
The furnishings were old-fashioned but in good condition. The bed had a simple wooden frame, and the bookcases were sturdy enough to hold a considerable number of books. The study table was wide, with drawers beneath its surface and enough room for a computer, a monitor, and several stacks of documents.
Someone had clearly prepared the room for a person to live in.
Kazuma stepped inside, setting his backpack down beside the desk.
He ran his hand over the tabletop, brushing away a thin layer of dust. The wooden surface felt smooth beneath his fingers, and the chair remained steady when he pulled it away from the desk.
He then approached the bed and pressed a hand against the mattress.
It was firm, though he couldn't tell whether the bedding itself was still usable. He would probably need to replace the sheets and pillows, if not the mattress altogether.
Still, it was a far better starting point than an empty room.
He turned toward the window.
From here, he could see the rooftops of neighboring houses, the tops of trees, and a portion of the street beyond the property's walls. The sky had grown even darker, and rain streaked the glass in thin, winding trails.
The room was large enough that he could rearrange the furniture and still have plenty of space left over. If he wanted, he could add a sofa, a low table, or even a television without making the room feel crowded.
He could practically turn half of it into a second living room.
For someone who had only recently learned that he had inherited an entire house, Kazuma was beginning to feel rather fortunate.
A bedroom, a study table, bookcases, and enough space to do whatever he pleased.
What more could he ask for?
He walked back toward the bed and sat down on its edge.
The mattress creaked faintly beneath his weight.
For the first time since leaving Shibuya, he allowed himself to relax.
The journey had been tiring, and the gloomy weather wasn't doing much to improve his mood. Yet there was something comforting about being inside a house where he wouldn't have to worry about noisy neighbors or the footsteps of strangers passing outside his door.
He could make this place his own.
He could clean the rooms, replace the old furniture if necessary, and gradually restore the garden. He could even do something about that filthy pond outside.
It would take time, certainly, but there was no reason to rush.
After all, it wasn't as though he had anywhere else he needed to be.
At least, not yet.
A sudden rumble of thunder interrupted his thoughts.
Kazuma glanced toward the window as the rain began striking the roof with greater force.
"...I should probably check whether the windows are properly sealed."
He rose from the bed and returned to the hallway.
There were still plenty of things he needed to inspect before he could call the house livable. The electricity seemed to work, and the furniture was largely intact, but he hadn't checked the water supply, the hot-water system, or whether any leaks had developed during the years the property had remained empty.
And he hadn't even begun thinking about groceries.
Kazuma let out a quiet sigh.
"So much for spending the day resting."
He looked back into his new bedroom before heading downstairs.
For better or worse, this was his home now.
And he had a feeling that getting it ready for habitation would be only the beginning of his troubles.
....
....
....
Kazuma spent the rest of the day inspecting the house.
He checked the pipes beneath the sinks, tested the faucets, and made sure the toilets flushed properly. Fortunately, everything seemed to be in working order. He even discovered a toolbox tucked away inside one of the bathroom cabinets, complete with the tools needed to handle minor plumbing issues.
The water heater worked, too.
After testing the shower and confirming that the hot water ran without any problems, Kazuma finally allowed himself to relax.
At least he wouldn't have to worry about the house falling apart around him anytime soon.
By the time he finished checking the remaining fixtures, the sky had grown darker, and the rain showed no signs of stopping. With little food left in his backpack, he decided to make a quick trip to the convenience store he had passed earlier.
The streets were noticeably quieter than they had been the previous afternoon. Rain had driven most pedestrians indoors, leaving only a handful of people hurrying beneath their umbrellas.
Kazuma picked up some instant noodles, bread, eggs, and a few other necessities before returning home.
Nothing fancy, but it would be enough to get him through the next day.
Once he arrived, he prepared a quick dinner, washed the dishes, and headed upstairs.
He was exhausted.
Between the journey from Shibuya, inspecting the house, and making sure its facilities were still functional, he had spent nearly the entire day on his feet.
He couldn't even be bothered to change into his pajamas.
"Man, I'm so damn tired..."
Kazuma collapsed onto the bed, intending to rest for just a few minutes before getting ready for sleep.
Those few minutes turned into several hours.
Before he knew it, he was fast asleep.
....
....
....
Morning arrived sooner than he would have liked.
Sunlight filtered through the curtains, illuminating the unfamiliar room and making it increasingly difficult for him to return to his dreams. Kazuma groaned, rolled onto his side, and buried his face in the pillow.
Unfortunately, the sun wasn't going to take pity on him.
After several unsuccessful attempts to fall asleep again, he finally dragged himself out of bed.
He prepared a simple breakfast, ate at the kitchen table, and returned upstairs to check his schedule.
The new semester wouldn't begin for another week.
Thank goodness.
If he had transferred any later, he might have found himself scrambling to catch up with his new classmates before he had even settled into his new home. At least he had a little breathing room to get everything organized.
He was in the middle of reviewing some documents when his phone vibrated on the desk.
A message notification appeared on the screen.
Kazuma glanced at it, wondering who might be contacting him so early in the morning.
He had already blocked several relatives who had spent the past few days pestering him about the house. He had no intention of entertaining another conversation about his inheritance.
Fortunately, the name on the screen belonged to someone else.
Student Council President.
Right. He remembered giving his contact information to the school when he submitted his transfer documents. The student council must have received his details to help coordinate the arrival of new students.
He opened the message.
Prez: Hey, good morning! Is this Kazuma Fukuyama?
Me: Yeah, speaking. Who's this?
Prez: I'm the student council president at your new school. We haven't officially met yet, but I got your contact from the transfer student list.
Me: Oh, I see. Is there something I need to do?
Prez: Nothing complicated! I'm helping the incoming students get settled before the semester starts. Have you joined our class group on Harmony yet?
Me: Not yet. I haven't used Harmony in a while.
Prez: No worries. I'll send you the invite link. It's where everyone shares class announcements and asks questions. The teachers will use it for important updates, too.
Me: Got it. Thanks.
Prez: No problem! Just introduce yourself once you join. It'll make your first day a little less awkward, haha.
Me: I'll keep that in mind.
Prez: Great! See you when the semester starts!
Kazuma put his phone down for a moment.
Harmony.
He hadn't thought about that app in years.
He used to have an account back when he needed it for school, but things had eventually gotten messy. His old account had attracted unwanted attention from troublemakers and a few particularly irritating relatives. After growing tired of the constant messages, he had simply deleted the account and moved on.
He hadn't regretted the decision.
Until now, apparently.
With a quiet sigh, Kazuma picked up his phone again and followed the invitation link the student council president had sent him.
The app opened a download page.
After reinstalling it, he launched Harmony and was greeted by its familiar welcome screen.
WELCOME TO HARMONY!
Let's get you started.
Do you already have an account?
[ YES ] [ NO ]
Kazuma selected NO.
The next screen asked him to enter his name and choose a nickname.
He filled in the required fields.
Name: Kazuma Fukuyama
Nickname: Kazuma
After confirming his details, he was prompted to link an email address to his account. He skipped the option for the time being, completed the remaining steps, and finally arrived at the main interface.
And just like that, he had a new account.
The interface had changed considerably since the last time he had used the app. Harmony now featured public communities, private group chats, direct messages, and a recommendation page filled with communities he could join.
Some had thousands of members. Others were small groups dedicated to hobbies, games, or school-related discussions.
Kazuma wasn't interested in any of them.
He only wanted to join his class group and get it over with.
He returned to the invitation message and tapped the link again.
A preview appeared on his screen.
WELCOME TO YOUR NEW CLASS COMMUNITY!
Beneath it was a prominent button inviting him to join.
Kazuma tapped it.
A brief loading animation appeared before the app redirected him to the community page.
Class 2-B — Official Group
He let out a small breath.
Finally.
Before he could send an introduction, however, another notification appeared at the top of the screen.
You've been invited to join a group chat.
Kazuma frowned.
He hadn't invited anyone, nor had he shared his new account with anyone besides the student council president.
Curious, he opened the notification.
The invitation displayed no profile picture, no description, and no indication of who had sent it. There was only a group name.
KABBALAH
"...What?"
Kazuma stared at the screen.
He had never heard of it before. For all he knew, it was just another obscure community on Harmony.
He considered dismissing the notification.
Then he noticed something strange.
The invitation had been received at the exact same time he had joined his class group.
That was odd, but perhaps the app had simply bundled several notifications together during the account setup.
He tapped the group information.
There was no member count, no list of administrators, and no public description. Even the usual option to view the group's community page was missing.
The only available button was an invitation prompt.
JOIN GROUP
Kazuma hesitated.
"...Is this some kind of school thing?"
He glanced back at the class group, wondering whether the student council president had sent him another invitation by mistake.
There was no new message.
He could have ignored it and moved on with his morning.
Instead, curiosity got the better of him.
Kazuma tapped the button.
The screen went black for a fraction of a second.
Then the chat opened.
At first glance, it looked like an ordinary group conversation. There were no elaborate graphics, no welcome banner, and no introductory message explaining the group's purpose.
Only a handful of usernames appeared at the top of the screen.
And beneath them, a message had already been posted.
Unknown: Another one has arrived.
Kazuma blinked.
"...What the hell?"