"You called me."
Itsuki stared at the book.
The ink was dry. The handwriting was clean.
He was sure the page had been blank yesterday.
And now… these words were here. Like they'd waited for him to come back.
"You called me."
He didn't say anything. Didn't react.
He just closed the book and slowly placed it back on the desk.
The room was quiet.
Too quiet.
He sat back on his bed, leaning forward with his hands clasped loosely between his knees.
His eyes stayed fixed on the floor. The silence pressed into him — thick, cold, and whispering things too soft to hear.
Eventually, he lay back.
Sleep came late.
The next morning felt strangely normal.
The sun was out. Birds chirped outside his window.
His mom called from the kitchen for breakfast.
Everything was as it should be.
By the time he got to school, the unease had faded into the back of his mind — like a dream slipping away after waking.
"Itsuki!"
Haruta waved like an idiot from the gates. "Finally, the man arrives!"
Noa was with him, tying her hair back with a scrunchie, her bag slung casually over one shoulder.
She smiled brightly. "You're late."
Itsuki exhaled through his nose and smirked. "I'm not late. You're just early."
Haruta grinned. "Ooooh. The tension. Should I leave you two lovebirds?"
Itsuki punched him lightly in the arm.
Noa just laughed — fearless, genuine, the way she always was.
But then, her eyes lingered on Itsuki's face a little longer than usual.
"You didn't sleep again, did you?"
He paused.
"...I'm fine."
Class dragged on.
The teacher's voice blended into the hum of the fan and the scratching of pens on paper.
Itsuki sat near the window, half-listening, half-daydreaming.
Then it hit him again —
That stillness.
Too still.
Like the entire room had stopped breathing.
He glanced out the window.
Just for a second, he thought he saw it —
A figure, tall and motionless, standing in the shadows of the schoolyard.
But when he looked again… nothing.
He looked down at his desk.
A pencil mark.
A circle.
Five small dots inside it.
His handwriting — but he didn't remember writing it.
He slowly closed his notebook.
After school, Haruta had a club meeting. Noa walked with Itsuki instead, like she often did when the timing worked out.
The road was quiet. Leaves rustled underfoot.
Noa was talking about a new show she started — something cheesy but fun. She was animated, expressive, waving her hands around and occasionally laughing at her own summary.
Itsuki walked beside her in silence. Listening. Letting her voice ground him.
"You're unusually quiet today," she said, turning her head slightly. "Still tired?"
"Something like that."
She smiled. "Well, I'll just talk enough for the both of us then."
He glanced at her — sunlight in her hair, joy in her voice, zero fear in her eyes.
He could've walked like this forever, He didn't say it, but this… this felt kind of perfect.
8:42 PM.
Itsuki sat in his room, knees pulled up to his chest, back against the bed.
The light buzzed overhead.
The book was still on the desk.
Open.
He hadn't touched it since last night.
This time, the words were already waiting:
"Let me in."
No rituals.
No riddles.
Just a quiet command.
Then—
Knock.
He didn't move.
Knock. Knock.
This time, it came from the closet.
He stood slowly.
One more knock.
Knock.
He walked toward the door and pulled it open—
Nothing.
Just the usual: jackets, a box of wires, some old notebooks.
But on the wooden floor inside—
A circle. Drawn in chalk.
And in the center—
a black fingerprint.
Still wet.
To be continued...