Rain tapped gently against the windows of the Sakuma estate, a rhythm both soothing and suffocating. The house creaked with old memory, every step Reiko took echoing through generations of sorrow.
She stood in the hallway outside her room, arms wrapped around herself. The night felt heavy, like a curtain pulled taut over something unspeakable. Behind her, she heard soft footsteps.
"Reiko," Shin said quietly.
She turned, startled. He wore a simple black shirt, damp from the mist outside. His hair clung slightly to his forehead, and his eyes searched hers, full of worry.
"You should rest," she murmured. "Tomorrow we have to... go back to the well."
Shin stepped closer, his expression unreadable. "I can't sleep. Not while you're like this."
Reiko looked away. "Like what?"
"Like you're already halfway gone."
A shiver danced up her spine. "I'm not. I just... I'm scared. Not of the ghosts. Not even of Okiku."
He waited.
She finally said, "I'm scared of losing you."
Shin's breath caught, and for a moment, neither of them moved. The house around them seemed to still, as though listening.
"You won't lose me," he said, gently taking her hand. "Reiko... I didn't come all this way just to protect you like some client. I—"
His voice faltered.
Reiko looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with unspoken grief.
He continued, quieter now. "I love you. I don't know when it started. Maybe it was when I saw you standing in that rain years ago at your mother's grave. Or maybe it was when you smiled that first time in Hairama, even though you were breaking inside. But it's real. And I'm not going anywhere."
Reiko's eyes filled with tears.
"You shouldn't love me," she whispered.
"Too late."
"I'm cursed, Shin. You saw what happened to Seijiro. To my mother . Everyone who gets close—"
"Then let it take me," he said.
Her breath caught.
He stepped closer, brushed a strand of hair from her face. "If it means standing beside you, if it means holding your hand through this nightmare... then I don't care."
Before she could protest again, his lips found hers.
It was soft. Trembling. Desperate. A kiss not of passion but of promise — a vow made in a house that had seen too many broken ones.
Reiko melted into him, her arms clutching his shirt as if he were the only thing keeping her from falling.
When they parted, she whispered, "Don't leave me."
"Never."
But even as he said it, the house moaned, a deep groaning sound from below.
They both turned. Somewhere beneath the floor, the well throbbed. Like a heartbeat.
That night, Reiko slept fitfully. Shin remained beside her, sitting in a wooden chair, watching her with a silent protector's patience.
But even he couldn't protect her from dreams.
In her dream..
she stood in the woods behind the estate.
Fog clung to her ankles like chains. The plum tree bloomed black blossoms, and the moon above was blood-red.
Koroe stood beneath the tree.
"You should not have come back," the old medium said, her face veiled in shadow. Her mouth did not move when she spoke — the words simply echoed, warped, within Reiko's mind.
"I need to know the truth," Reiko said.
"Truth has a price. And some doors shouldn't open."
From behind Koroe, another figure stepped forward.
Shiki.
But his eyes were gone. Black pits stared at her instead. "You're the key, Reiko. But keys are also knives. You will cut everything you love."
Reiko stumbled back.
The ground beneath her split open.
She fell — down, down, past roots and bones and broken toys. And at the bottom was the well.
But it wasn't empty.
Seijiro floated there, smiling gently, his face calm.
"Join me," he whispered. "You don't have to be afraid anymore."
Reiko reached toward him.
And then — another hand grabbed her wrist.
Okiku.
Her face hovered inches from Reiko's, her mouth too wide, her eyes hollow and unblinking.
"He's mine," she hissed.
The dream shattered.
Reiko woke with a gasp.
Shin was at her side in an instant. "Reiko?"
She clutched him, sobbing. "She was there. She was right there."
"It was a dream."
"No," Reiko whispered. "She's closer now. Closer than ever."
Thunder rumbled in the distance.
And outside the window, beneath the plum tree, a figure watched.
Small.
Childlike.
Eyes like Seijiro's.
Mai.
Counting.
"One... two... three..."
To Be Continued