Morning arrived on the second day.
Akira woke as he always did, moving through the quiet rhythm of his routine. He carried the empty bucket and hurried toward the well, the cool air brushing lightly against his face. Upon reaching it, he lowered the bucket into the water—only to freeze in place.
Floating on the surface were fragments of ice.
His brows tightened in confusion. The night before had not been nearly cold enough to freeze water. For a brief moment, unease crept into his chest… but he forced himself to dismiss it. Perhaps it was nothing. Perhaps it meant nothing.
He returned home.
Sitting down, he began eating his breakfast like any other day. Then—suddenly—his hand stopped mid-motion. His body stiffened. His eyes widened, fear slowly overtaking his expression, as though he had seen something invisible… something only he could perceive.
His lips trembled.
"Ar… Arthur… I forgot… Arthur…" he muttered in a strained, shaking voice. "Today… is his birthday…"
In an instant, he rose from his seat, abandoning the table without a second thought. Nothing mattered now except reaching Arthur.
He ran.
Faster than he ever had before.
When he finally arrived, he stood at the door, struggling to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling sharply. He knocked urgently, calling out Arthur's name.
But it was not Arthur who answered.
The door creaked open to reveal his mother.
She looked… broken.
Her eyes were swollen, red from relentless crying. Her face carried a grief too heavy to conceal. Akira's voice faltered as he spoke, each word caught between breaths.
"Wh… where… is… Ar… Arthur?"
She looked at him—then replied, her voice cracking under the weight of sorrow:
"He… went to work."
And she shut the door.
In that moment, time itself seemed to collapse.
Akira stood frozen, the echo of the door still ringing in his ears. Yet beyond it… he could still hear her sobbing. Soft. Continuous. Unbearable.
That was when it became clear.
The disappearances in the village… were no coincidence.
There was something far more sinister beneath it all.
A mystery.
A truth no one dared to speak.
The realization struck him so violently that his body nearly gave out beneath him. His legs trembled as he tried to turn, to walk, to return home—but they refused to obey.
Then—
Arthur's younger brother appeared.
He approached Akira with light steps, smiling… even laughing, as though nothing in the world was wrong. As though nothing had changed. He was still a child, untouched by the weight of reality, unaware of the darkness quietly swallowing everything around him.
He reached up and gently patted Akira's head.
"Don't worry," he said warmly. "Arthur will be back soon… he promised me."
Akira said nothing.
He simply turned away.
Step by step, he made his way toward the familiar rock where they used to sit together. And there he remained, unmoving, silent… as if the world around him had faded into nothing.
Even as the sun slowly sank beneath the horizon—
Akira did not move.
Not once.