"My name is Takahashi Sōzan, I'm twenty‑two this year. My parents divorced when I was very young, so my mother and I depended on each other. After graduating, I joined a well‑known company, and I thought life was finally getting better, but last year my mother… unexpectedly passed away."
Takahashi Sōzan, already dressed and ready for work, opened his front door and bumped into his elderly neighbor. He forced a polite smile, greeted the man, and descended the stairs without a real response.
He had lost his job at the big firm. Emotional fatigue and burnout led to his dismissal. Now he worked at a small company, earning just enough to get by alone.
He clasped the subway's handrail, staring blankly at the city lights passing by. Fellow commuters discussed yesterday's bizarre national incident in hushed tones.
Since the event happened, authorities have tried to reassure the public, but panic remains widespread. Many cities even saw riots. Not only were shocking videos circulating, but international communication had been disrupted. Messages vanished, posting was blocked, and international flights were grounded.
While rumors swirled, the official stance seemed strong—yet what did this have to do with Sōzan?
The answer, he knew, was deeply personal.
He had watched the entire video along with everyone else. He'd even recorded it. An ominous voice echoed in his mind, haunting his dreams last night. The dream showed a man in a nearby park who hinted that hidden "medicines" could reveal the truth.
"You don't really believe in ghosts, do you?" a bystander asked.
"Curses, that's what they're calling it now. Sounds like an internet stunt."
"But that footage… it was too vivid. I had nightmares."
These snippets looped in Sōzan's mind. Curse... accidental death...
The train arrived, and he stepped off into a repetitive workday. Sleep-deprived, he nodded off at his desk, drifting into the same dream. Suddenly, a shout and a slammed table woke him—his supervisor was furious. Sōzan mechanically apologized and returned to his tasks. No one dared fire him now—talent was scarce.
That evening under the nine‑o'clock sky, Sōzan bought a bento at the nearest convenience store and heated it up. Sitting on a bench, he popped open a beer and stared at his mismatched meal of vegetables, plums, tempura, and a half-cold piece of fish. Without expression, he ate mechanically.
His thoughts drifted to his mother's death. He remembered her sudden collapse caught on surveillance cameras. The coroner cited heart failure. But Sōzan recalled her annual checkup—perfect health, no risk factors, no history of heart disease in the family. He summoned private investigators, but the official verdict stayed: accidental death. He had hoped the pain would fade, but yesterday's video reopened the wound, and the dream offered a terrifying possibility—his mother may have been a victim of a Curse.
Finishing his beer, he tossed the can and meal into a trash bin. Then he walked toward that park—the one from his dream.
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That Night in the Park
"Is this it?" He whispered, heart pounding.
The park was nearly deserted. He found a bag filled with small white pills just where he'd imagined. Its resemblance to the one in the video paralyzed him with fear.
He tucked it into his jacket and hurried home. Once inside, he locked the door and replayed the recording of the man feeding that pill to a frightened woman. He compared his pill to the video; it was identical.
Could taking it reveal Curses? His mother's face flashed before him. He swallowed one dry. He knelt, bracing for poison—but nothing happened.
"I don't feel anything. Charlatans after all?"
He tossed the bag away, pulled the curtains, and prepared for bed. Then he noticed something under the streetlamp outside—a strange shadow. A dog‑like creature.
He froze. It wasn't a child, but something inhuman.
"It's real."
The creature turned, he ducked away, heart racing. He spent the night searching his apartment—no intruders. The creature was real… and invisible to cameras. Only he, after taking the pill, could see it.
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The Next Morning
Exhausted but strangely exhilarated, he left home. By midday he tested again, popped another pill, and saw more subtle manifestations—likely Curses. But when he asked those around him, none saw them.
Back at work he barely focused. His supervisor reprimanded him again. Afterward, his coworker and only friend, Ogi, leaned in.
"Sōzan, ignore that jerk. I noticed you've been off the past two days–is it because of the incident?"
Sōzan took a steady breath. "Ogi… do you believe what the man in the video said?"
Ogi hesitated. "Believe it? I've never seen ghosts or monsters. Did you?"
Sōzan held out his palm. A white pill lay there. Ogi gasped.
"You're not the sort to prank…?"
"It's real. It shows the truth mentioned in the video." He recounted everything—his dream, the pill, the park.
Ogi looked skeptical, torn. Then, like being compelled, he absently picked up the pill...
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