"Some books are read. Others read you."
It was just past midnight.
Itsuki Kurobane had gone to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. The house was quiet, everyone asleep, and the soft hum of the refrigerator filled the silence.
As he walked back into his room, bottle in hand, he suddenly noticed something lying on his desk.
His eyes narrowed.
The book.
The same one that had caused him to trip in the middle of the road on his way to school days ago. The one he had never picked up… but had seen mysteriously lying on his desk two days earlier. He'd glanced at it then, but completely forgot.
Now it was there again. Sitting silently, like it had been waiting for him all along.
He paused in his step.
"Huh...? That thing again?"
He placed the bottle down beside it and stared.
Something about it bothered him now more than before. Out of plain curiosity — and thinking it might just be some dumb prank someone was playing — he slowly opened the book.
The first page read:
"To the one who reads this — you are not alone."
"Use this book only when silence begins to scream."
"To those forgotten by the world, I offer companionship."
"But every friendship has its price."
And at the bottom in smudged red ink:
— Kyōran no Yūsha
Itsuki raised a brow.
"What is this?"
He turned the page.
There were steps written out in a clean, neat hand:
Ritual Instructions:
Draw a circle using black thread Place a personal or treasured item in the center Speak aloud the words:
"Tomodachi wa yami yori kuru." And then… wait.
Itsuki gave a dry chuckle.
"So someone really went through the effort to write this creepy crap?"
He glanced around his desk and found some old black thread from a school project. He tied it into a circle on the floor and, without thinking too much, placed his brother's old, scratched-up keychain at the center.
Then, in a half-mocking tone, he muttered:
"Tomodachi wa yami yori kuru."
Nothing.
A second passed. Then another.
"Yeah. Figures."
He turned around to head toward bed—
—and froze.
A cold chill crawled down the back of his neck.
He stopped in his tracks.
He looked behind him.
Nothing.
Everything in his room was exactly as it was.
No window open. No fan. No draft.
But then—
a whisper.
So soft, it barely existed.
"Tomodachi..."
His heart skipped a beat.
He spun around. Still… nothing.
"...What the hell was that?"
He stood there, silent. The chill faded. The room returned to normal.
Eventually, he shook his head.
"Tch… I'm just tired."
He tossed the book aside on the desk, turned off the light, and dropped into bed.
The Next Day
The sun rose. A normal morning. A normal day.
School passed quietly. Haruto joked around like always. Noa smiled as usual.
It was as if nothing happened.
Itsuki barely thought of the book again. Maybe it had all just been in his head.
He returned home, did his homework, watched a few episodes of anime, and ate dinner. The same routine.
The sun was gone now. The clock in his room read:
6:56 PM.
He lay back on his bed, scrolling through his phone mindlessly.
Then the clock changed.
7:00 PM.
And something shifted.
The air in the room felt heavier.
A stillness — deeper than usual.
Itsuki blinked and looked around.
Suddenly, from the corner of his eye, he thought he saw it.
A figure.
Tall. Motionless.
Standing silently at the far end of the hallway, just outside his half-open door.
But when he looked directly — nothing was there.
He stared.
"…Was someone just…"
He stood up slowly and walked toward the door, heart beating just a little faster.
The hallway was empty.
The lights flickered — once.
He turned back to his room.
The book sat exactly where he left it.
But now… its cover was open.
Not where he had stopped.
But to a blank page.
And on it, freshly written, as if someone had just inked it seconds ago:
"You called me."
To be continued…