The first thing Shidou noticed was that the light didn't feel like light.
It was bright—bright enough that the stone beneath his shoes looked bleached, like it had been scrubbed too hard—but it didn't warm his skin. It didn't cast shadows the way sunlight did. It just existed, flat and patient, filling the world as if the world had been built to hold nothing else.
He blinked and his lashes didn't change anything.
That should have been the second thing he noticed: blinking didn't help.
Usually, dreams were soft around the edges. They let you get away with fog and nonsense. This wasn't foggy. This was sharp. Every line had an outline. Every surface had texture. He could see the tiny pits in the stone walls, the hair-thin cracks in the floor like veins. He could hear—no, he could sense—silence so complete it seemed to press against his ears.
And his body...
His body felt wrong.
Not painful. Not sick. Just... heavy, like he'd been wrapped in a blanket soaked with water. His arms hung a fraction too low. His feet were too aware of the ground and also not aware enough. Like his mind had been seated in his skull one seat over from where it belonged.
A dream, then.
He knew that the way you know you're in the middle of a conversation you didn't start. He couldn't remember falling asleep. He couldn't remember getting here. He didn't even remember what "here" was supposed to be. He just... was, and the world was already waiting.
Shidou swallowed. The sound didn't echo. The air didn't move.
The hallway stretched out in front of him, straight as a ruler, stone on stone on stone, so long the distance started to feel like a concept rather than a measurement. At the far end stood a door—tall, ancient-looking, framed in darker stone. It wasn't ornate. It didn't need to be. It felt like the kind of door you didn't knock on.
It felt like the end of something.
He took a step forward, more out of reflex than choice. His shoe scuffed the floor softly. The sound was swallowed immediately, as if the corridor had learned to eat noise.
There was no wind. No smell. No people.
No—
Movement.
Shidou's gaze snagged on two figures further down the hall. They were standing in the light as if the light belonged to them.
One was a child.
Small, the size of someone who should have been in elementary school, with a striped shirt. Their posture was calm. Too calm. The kind of calm you got when you'd decided something and nothing else mattered anymore. In one hand, they held a knife.
It looked wrong in their grip. Not because it was too big—because it was too familiar, like an object that had been used so many times it had become an extension of the hand.
The other figure—
Shidou's breath caught, not from fear, but from the pure, impossible strangeness of it.
A skeleton.
Not a Halloween decoration. Not a science classroom model. A real skeleton, standing upright, wearing a hoodie and shorts like it was normal. Like bones could put their hands in their pockets and slouch.
The skeleton's head was tilted slightly, eye sockets shadowed by the angle, and Shidou couldn't tell what it was looking at—only that it was looking at the child.
There was no sound between them.
But there was tension so thick Shidou felt it against his teeth.
What is this? he thought, and the thought didn't feel like his own. It felt like the hallway thought it for him and placed it in his head.
He tried to call out. His throat tightened. His voice... didn't arrive.
Not like something was choking him. More like the dream didn't require his voice and had decided it wasn't part of the set.
The child moved first.
Not a step. Not a warning. Just a blur of intent—knife up, body forward, a strike that should have been the end of anything living.
The skeleton moved like it had been waiting for it.
One moment it was there, slouched and still. The next it wasn't where it had been.
The knife passed through empty space.
And then—
Light.
Not sunlight. Not firelight. A hard, white glare that snapped into existence like a camera flash inside Shidou's skull. The hallway filled with shapes that weren't shapes—lines of force, angles of violence—and the child's body jerked as if something had yanked them from the inside.
Shidou didn't understand what he was seeing. He only understood the result.
The child collapsed.
It was quick. Brutal in its efficiency. Like an answer. Like the skeleton had said, No.
Shidou's stomach turned. He took a step without meaning to.
The child lay still for a beat.
Then—
They were standing again.
In the same place. In the same posture. Knife in hand.
Shidou's mind stumbled over the image like it had tripped on a wire.
No one had moved them. No one had helped them up. There hadn't been time.
The skeleton was already slouched again, as if the first exchange had never cost it anything.
The child attacked again.
The skeleton dodged again.
This time, the hallway seemed to bend with the motion. The skeleton wasn't fast in a human way—it was fast in a way that made Shidou feel like he was missing frames. Like his eyes weren't meant to keep up.
The child's knife struck air.
Something invisible seized the child's body and slammed it sideways. Shidou saw them lift off the ground, saw the harsh angle of impact against stone, saw the knife skitter—
Then a burst of pale light erupted again, shapes forming in the air like jaws, like mouths that opened and closed without sound.
The child crumpled.
Shidou's chest tightened.
And then—
They were standing again.
Again. Again. Again.
It happened too many times to count, and yet it happened like the first time every time. The hallway didn't change. The light didn't flicker. The door at the end didn't get closer. Only Shidou's sense of time began to warp, stretching and snapping back as the same moment repeated in slightly different angles.
The skeleton always moved first—no, not first. Already.
Like it had seen the strike before it happened.
The child always came forward, knife raised, expression unreadable from where Shidou stood but posture absolute, and every time the skeleton met it with the same tired precision.
Sometimes the floor erupted with sharp, pale shapes that thrust upward and vanished as quickly as they appeared, forcing the child to twist, stumble, fall.
Sometimes white light filled the hall and Shidou felt it in his bones, pressure without contact.
Sometimes the child's body was thrown, turned, pinned, lifted—like gravity had become a toy in the skeleton's hands.
And every time—
The child fell.
And every time—
The child returned.
Shidou didn't know how long it went on. The repetition made minutes meaningless. He tried to keep track by breaths, but his breathing had become shallow and uneven without him noticing, and the dream didn't offer him anything stable to anchor time to.
What he did notice, slowly, like a bruise blooming under skin, was the skeleton.
The skeleton didn't change much at first. Still slouched. Still casual. Still somehow... unimpressed, even as it did impossible things.
But then Shidou began to see the cracks.
Not in the bones. In the movement.
A fraction of a second longer to dodge. A shoulder lifting with a breath that wasn't there before. A pause—tiny, almost imperceptible—between one motion and the next.
Exhaustion.
The skeleton was winning.
And it was still losing something.
Shidou's throat tightened again. He wasn't sure when the feeling had shifted from confusion to something heavier. He didn't know these people. He didn't know why he cared. He didn't know why the sight of a tired skeleton standing between a door and a child with a knife made his heart feel like it had been clenched in a fist.
But he cared.
He cared the way you care when you see someone keep throwing themselves in front of something sharp. The way you care when you recognize inevitability in another person's posture.
The skeleton dodged another strike—barely. The knife passed close enough that Shidou felt phantom wind.
The skeleton's head dipped for half a beat, as if its whole body had to borrow that moment to keep going.
The child stood again, knife steady, not a tremor of fatigue in the way their arm lifted.
It hit Shidou then, like a cold coin dropped down his spine: the child didn't get tired. The child didn't slow.
Only the skeleton did.
The hallway seemed to hold its breath.
The next exchange was faster. The child moved with the same relentless certainty. The skeleton moved—dodged—countered—
And for the first time, Shidou saw the skeleton's movement lag.
Not much. Not enough for anyone normal to notice. But Shidou had been watching too long. The dream had forced him to watch too long. He saw the fraction of failure.
The knife flashed.
A single line.
A single moment of contact.
The skeleton jerked as if something had punched straight through its center.
It didn't fall.
It stayed upright, knees bent slightly, one hand half-lifted as if the body had tried to dodge even after it was too late.
For a second nothing happened at all. The hallway was too bright, too still. Shidou wondered, stupidly, if his eyes had lied.
Then the skeleton's head tilted down.
It looked at its chest.
Shidou's stomach dropped.
Dark stains—too dark against the pale light—spread into the fabric of the hoodie, soaking outward in a slow, undeniable bloom. The skeleton stared at it like it was confirming a number on a test. Like it had expected the answer and still felt a small sting seeing it written down.
Its shoulders rose.
It exhaled.
A thin sound came out—half breath, half something else.
Then—
A laugh.
Short. Breathless. Not loud enough to echo. Not mocking. Not cruel.
Resigned.
As if the skeleton had been holding the humor in for too long and finally let it out because there was nothing else to do with it.
Shidou's eyes stung without warning.
He didn't understand why.
The skeleton lifted its head. The child stood in front of it, knife lowered now, posture still and unreadable, as if waiting for the world to finish what it had started.
The skeleton's voice came out soft.
So soft Shidou almost didn't catch it.
"Don't say I didn't warn you..... welp... I'm going to grillby's... Papyrus... do you want anything..?"
The words were casual in the way someone says they're going out for air when they're really leaving forever. There was something faintly fond in it. Something tired. Something... gentle.
Shidou's chest tightened so sharply he thought he might cough.
The skeleton turned.
It turned its back on the child with the knife. Turned away from the door like it had lost interest. Or like it had decided not to give the hallway the satisfaction of watching it collapse where it stood.
It began to limp forward.
Each step was small. Deliberate. Almost stubborn. Like the act of walking was a last decision it could still make.
Shidou watched, unable to move, unable to breathe properly. The hallway stretched endlessly and yet the skeleton only had to take a few steps before—
It started to break apart.
Not violently. Not like an explosion.
Like ash caught in a beam of light.
Particles lifted from its sleeves, from the edge of its hoodie, from the curve of its skull. The disintegration was quiet, almost graceful. The skeleton continued limping even as pieces of it drifted away, as if it refused to stop walking until the hallway forced it to.
It didn't reach the door.
It didn't even come close.
It simply... became less.
Less bone. Less hoodie. Less presence.
Until there was nothing left.
No body on the floor. No remains. No proof. Just empty light and a hallway that looked exactly the same as it had at the beginning, as if the dream could erase anything it didn't want to keep.
Shidou stood frozen, staring at the space where the skeleton had been.
The child with the knife remained at the far end of the hall, still as a statue, and Shidou realized with a strange nausea that the child didn't look victorious.
The child looked like a fact.
Something you couldn't argue with.
Shidou's hands trembled. He lifted them, staring at his fingers as if they might explain why his eyes were wet. The tears didn't fall yet. They sat hot in the corners, confused and stubborn.
He didn't know the skeleton.
He didn't know what "Grillby's" was.
And yet something in him hurt like he'd just watched someone he loved walk away into light and never come back.
His chest felt too tight. He tried to swallow and couldn't. He tried to inhale and the air didn't feel like it went all the way in.
He took a step forward.
I should—
He didn't know what he should do. He only knew he had to move, had to cross the space, had to reach the place where the skeleton had disappeared as if he could gather the particles back up with his hands and make it real again.
The light in the hallway stretched.
The stone beneath his feet warped like heat haze.
The door at the end of the corridor seemed to lurch closer and farther at the same time.
Shidou reached out—
And the world snapped—
I wake up with my heart already tired.
Not the normal kind of tired—the "I stayed up too late and regret it" tired. This is different. This is like my body ran a marathon while my mind watched from a corner, unable to blink.
Something about a corridor. White light. A door that felt like the end of the world. A skeleton smiling like he'd accepted the punchline of existence—
My eyes crack open.
And immediately, I regret everything.
"Onii-chan! Onii-chan! Onii-chaaaaan!"
There's weight on my stomach. Small, merciless weight. My blanket is pinned down, my ribs feel like they're being used as a trampoline, and the air in my lungs is getting renegotiated with every bounce.
I squint through the morning blur and see red ribbon and twin tails and the unmistakable look of someone committing a crime with confidence.
Kotori is doing the macarena.
On top of me.
"...My dear imouto..." My voice comes out as a croak. "You're crushing me..."
Kotori's arms swing out in perfect rhythm. "Good morning!"
"Good morning," I wheeze back. "Could you please not... kill your brother before breakfast?"
"Mm! No!" she chirps, still dancing.
I try to lift my head and the room spins like my brain is still half inside that dream. For one second I expect fluorescent lights. A judging hallway. That same unbearable pressure.
Instead, it's my ceiling. My posters. My alarm clock screaming betrayal at 7:02 AM.
Kotori's heel lands again.
My soul coughs.
"Onii-chan..." she sings, leaning forward with the cruel sweetness of a villain. "Wake up properly."
"I'm awake—!" I gasp. "I'm awake, I swear!"
She pauses mid-step like she's considering mercy.
Then she jumps.
Not off the bed—off my stomach.
My lungs instantly leave my body.
I make a sound that shouldn't come from a human being and fold in half, grabbing at the blanket like it's a life raft. The world goes silent except for the ringing in my ears and the soft tap of Kotori landing on the floor.
She lands perfectly. Knees bent. Balance flawless. Like a gymnast who just stuck the final dismount at the Olympics.
Kotori straightens and flicks her hair. "See? Graceful."
I stare at her, mouth open, trying to remember how breathing works.
She tilts her head. "Onii-chan, you look like a dying fish."
"I was," I rasp. "You murdered me."
Kotori puts her hands on her hips. "You're dramatic."
"You're small."
"And yet," she says smugly, "I defeated you."
That's not even wrong. That's the worst part.
I slowly roll onto my side and inhale like I'm taking my first breath in a new life. My chest feels tight—like something invisible is still wrapped around it. Like the dream didn't fully let go.
I blink hard, trying to shake it loose.
That corridor. That feeling. Someone fighting over and over until—
No. Stop.
It was a dream. Just a dream. A weird one. A really weird one.
Kotori leans over me again, eyes bright. "Breakfast. Hurry up."
"You're not my mom."
Kotori smiles innocently. "You're right. I'm worse."
The kitchen smells like eggs and toast and the faint sweetness of the jam Kotori insists we buy even though she never uses it.
I crack an egg into the pan and immediately feel something watching me.
Not, like, haunted watching.
More like... Kotori watching.
I glance over.
She's sitting at the table with her elbows planted, a Chupa Chups lollipop already in her mouth like it's standard morning equipment.
"Kotori," I say slowly.
She sucks on it loudly, eyes wide and innocent.
"That's candy."
"Mmhmm."
"It's seven in the morning."
"Mmhmm!"
I flip the egg with my spatula. "Do you have some kind of addiction I should know about?"
Kotori pulls the lollipop out with a wet pop. "It's called self-care."
"It's called dental disaster."
"It's called happiness," she corrects, putting it back in her mouth.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Your teeth are going to fall out by the time you're twelve."
Kotori's eyes sparkle. "Then you'll take care of me forever, Onii-chan."
That... was way too confident.
I set the toast on a plate and slide it toward her. "Eat something real."
Kotori accepts the plate without even removing the lollipop. Like she's done this a hundred times. Which—she has.
The TV in the corner hums quietly, morning news looping like it always does. A reporter with a serious face stands in front of an empty street, talking about evacuation drills and safety routes.
Spacequakes.
The word lands in my brain like a pebble in a pond, ripples spreading out behind my eyes.
It's insane. That's the only word for it. How the world can say something like spacequake and everyone just... nods. Like it's weather.
Thirty years ago, when the first one hit, nobody even knew what it was.
No warning. No pattern. Just a sudden distortion in reality and then—
One hundred and fifty million people gone.
Just... gone.
I wasn't alive then, obviously, but everyone grows up hearing about it. The worst disaster in human history. Cities erased. Oceans boiling with light. Whole countries collapsing into grief so heavy it bent the world.
Now?
Now we have broadcast alerts and evacuation zones and polite government messages about staying calm.
Like you can stay calm when reality itself decides to throw a tantrum.
I glance at Kotori again.
She's happily biting toast with a lollipop still in her mouth, cheeks puffed out like a hamster. Completely unfazed by the apocalypse existing as a normal part of the week.
I swear she's either the bravest person alive or the most dangerous.
"Stop watching the news so hard," Kotori mumbles, mouth full. "You look like you're about to cry."
"I'm not."
"You are," she says, nodding. "Your face is like..." She makes an exaggerated frown and shakes her shoulders. "Tremble tremble."
I glare. "I'm thinking."
Kotori leans forward, lollipop finally out again. "About what?"
About corridors. About exhaustion. About a smile that didn't fit a skeleton's face but somehow still looked... human.
"Nothing," I say quickly. "Just... spacequakes."
Kotori shrugs. "Spacequakes happen."
"Yes," I say flatly. "I noticed."
She grins, satisfied, then immediately shifts gears like flipping a switch. "Oh, Onii-chan."
That tone makes my spine tense.
"What.?"
Kotori rests her chin on her hands, eyes sparkling with the kind of greed only small sisters can weaponize. "We're going to the diner later."
I blink. "We are?"
"Yes."
"Why are you telling me like it's already decided?"
Kotori smiles sweetly. "Because it is."
I stare at her. "Do I get a vote?"
"No."
"What do you want?"
Kotori sits up straighter. "The deluxe kids meal."
I choke. "You're not a kid."
Kotori's eyes narrow. "Emotionally, I am."
"That's not—"
"And," she continues, ignoring me, "I want extra fries. And the pudding. And the little toy."
"You always throw the toy away."
"I do not," she says offended.
"You literally do."
Kotori points the lollipop at me like it's a weapon. "Onii-chan."
I sigh. "What."
She says it again, slower. "Onii-chan."
"Kotori, don't do that—"
"Onii-chan~"
Oh my god.
She leans forward, elbows on the table, eyes huge and shining like she's about to ask for a puppy. "Please."
"No."
"Pleeeease."
"No."
"Onii-chaaan."
I slap my hand over my face. "This is torture."
Kotori smiles wider. "Is it working?"
"Yes! Yes it's working!"
"Then say yes."
I drop my hand. "Fine! We'll go!"
Kotori claps once. "Good."
And then—
She goes still.
Not the playful still. Not the dramatic still.
Just... quiet.
Her eyes hold mine, suddenly too serious for a girl with candy stuck to her lip.
"Promise you'll come," she says softly. "Even if a spacequake happens."
My throat tightens.
"What...?" I laugh awkwardly, because that's what my mouth does when my brain doesn't know what to do. "Why would a spacequake happen today?"
Kotori doesn't smile.
"Just promise," she repeats.
For half a second, the dream presses against my ribs again. That same feeling of inevitability. Like something is coming down a hallway and you can't stop it.
I swallow.
"Okay," I say, voice quieter. "I promise."
Kotori stares at me a beat longer, then—like nothing happened—she pops her lollipop back in and beams.
"Yay. Deluxe meal secured."
I sit there with my hands still on the counter, staring at her like I'm trying to figure out when my little sister learned how to carve promises into stone.
⸻
School feels normal.
Which is... wrong.
Not wrong like something is obviously broken.
Wrong like a picture frame that's a millimeter crooked and you can't stop noticing it once you see it.
I meet Tonomachi at the entrance like always. He's waving too enthusiastically, like his arms are trying to escape his body.
"Yo, Shidou!" he calls. "You look like garbage!"
I blink. "Good morning to you too."
"It's a compliment," he says, grinning. "Garbage means you're relatable."
"I got attacked this morning," I mutter.
Tonomachi's eyebrows shoot up. "Attacked? By who? A gang?"
"My sister."
He bursts out laughing like that's the funniest sentence in the universe. "Kotori? Again? What did she do this time, sit on your face?"
"She did the macarena on my stomach."
Tonomachi wheezes. "NO WAY."
"Way," I say flatly. "I almost died."
"That's incredible," he says, wiping tears from his eyes. "Your house is like a battlefield."
"It is," I agree. "And I am losing."
We walk into the building with the usual stream of students, shoes squeaking against the floor, morning chatter bouncing off lockers.
Normal.
Normal.
Normal.
And yet...
That dream keeps sticking like a burr in my mind. Every time my brain gets quiet, it flashes—white corridor, pressure, repetition, a smile that looked tired—
I shake my head hard.
Just a dream. Just weird brain nonsense.
Then a white haired girl appears.
She walks straight up to me like she owns the air around her, expression blank, posture perfect. She looked just like a doll...
She comes up...
She stops in front of me.
She Looks directly into my eyes.
And asks, in the most deadpan voice I've ever heard:
"Do you remember me..?
I blink. "...Huh?"
She doesn't move.
Doesn't blink.
Just waits.
I glance at Tonomachi like he's going to feed me the answer.
He's staring like his soul left his body.
I look back at her. "Um... no?"
Origami's eyes narrow a fraction. Not anger. Not sadness. Just... calculation.
"I see," she says.
Then she turns and walks away.
That's it. No explanation. No context. No "have a nice day."
Just... gone.
I stand there frozen for a second.
Tonomachi grabs my shoulders like he's about to shake the stupidity out of me. "WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?!"
"I answered a question!"
"That was ORIGAMI TOBIICHI!" he hisses like her name is illegal.
"Okay???" I say . "Am I supposed to know her?"
"She's the top of the top!" Tonomachi waves his hands wildly. "The untouchable queen! The cold beauty! The—"
He leans in, lowering his voice like he's telling me government secrets.
"She's like... number three on the best girlfriend ranking."
I stare. "There's a girlfriend ranking?"
"Of course there is!" he says, offended. "High school is a battlefield!"
"That's pathetic."
"It's accurate," he snaps.
I rub my forehead. "I don't even know her."
"AND SHE ASKED IF YOU REMEMBERED HER!" Tonomachi looks like he's about to explode. "Do you know what that means?!"
"It means she thinks I'm someone else."
"No!" he says, grabbing my arm dramatically. "It means fate is writing romance in your life and you're too dense to read it!"
"I'm not dense. I'm busy."
"Busy doing what? Getting stomped by your little sister?"
I felt my eyes twitch and I open my mouth to insult him.
Then the bell rings.
Saved by society.
Class starts with the normal groan of teenagers accepting their fate.
A new teacher introduces herself at the front, voice bubbly and kind, like she hasn't yet realized what kind of chaos she's inherited. The teacher "Tama Chan" was a short female wearing thinned rimmed glasses
"Good morning. I'll be your homeroom teacher Okamine Tamae—"
I'm only half listening because Origami sits near me.
And I can feel it.
That same thing from earlier. Like she's watching me in the way a scientist watches a bug under glass.
At one point I glance sideways and catch her staring directly at me.
Not flirting.
Just... observing.
She tilts her head slightly. "You look tired."
I blink. "Thanks..."
"Your breathing is uneven."
Does.. Does she know my breathing pattern...?
"What are you, a nurse?"
"A fact is a fact," she replies.
I stare at her. "Why do you care?"
Origami's eyes shift back to the board. "Observation."
That word again.
My skin prickles.
Dream aftertaste crawls up the back of my neck like cold fingers.
Corridor.
Pressure.
Someone watching.
Someone deciding—
I swallow hard and force myself to look away.
This is school. This is normal.
Nothing is going to happen today.
Yea definitely
He was gonna be fine.
" hehe... That dream had me on edge all day... but it's just a stupid dre-
UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!——————
The sirens start mid-sentence.
It's like the air itself snaps.
A sharp, grinding wail slices through the classroom, and every student's head whips toward the speakers in the ceiling.
A mechanical voice follows, too calm to be real:
"WARNING. SPACEQUAKE ALERT. EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY. THIS IS NOT A DRILL."
Oh...
I might have spoke too soon.
The teacher's face drains of color.
Chairs scrape. People stand. Panic blooms like ink in water.
I stand up with Tanomachi as all the other students follow the Teachers words.
The teacher seemed more freaked out than us honestly... poor Tama Chan look like she saw a ghost...
Seeing it was kind of... endearing in a way and calmed some of us down.
We leave the room and follow the teacher as students spill into the halls from all classrooms towards the underground shelter in the school.
It takes me a second to remeber
But when I do...
My heart drops straight into my stomach.
No.
No, no, no.
Kotori.
The promise.
I shove my hand into my pocket so fast I nearly tear the fabric and yank out my phone.
My fingers shake as I unlock it.
Location app.
Kotori's icon loads.
And there it is.
A little blinking marker sitting exactly where we agreed to meet.
Exactly.
My chest goes hot.
Anger hits first—pure, immediate, stupid rage.
"What is she doing there?!" I hiss under my breath.
My hands grip the phone so hard it creaks.
That idiot. That absolute—
IDIOT!
Fear slams in right after, heavier, colder.
Spacequake epicenter.
Meeting spot.
Same place.
My brain flashes Kotori's voice from this morning, too serious:
Promise you'll come. Even if a spacequake happens.
My lungs forget how to breathe.
I shoot up from my seat.
Tonomachi grabs my sleeve. "Shidou! Where are you going?! Evacuation's this way!"
"I—" My mouth scrambles for words. My brain is already running. "I forgot something!"
"What?! Now?!"
"My sister!" I snap. "She's—she's—"
Tonomachi's eyes widen. "Kotori?! Dude, don't be stupid—!"
I rip my arm free.
"I promised," I mutter, and then I'm running.
Down the hall.
Against the flow of students.
Against the yelling teachers.
Against the voice on the speakers repeating evacuation instructions like it can stop reality from breaking.
The building shakes once, a deep tremor that makes lockers rattle and hearts stutter.
I run faster.
Outside, the world is already wrong.
The sky looks normal.
That's the problem.
The air feels thick, like it's been stretched. Wind whips through the streets hard enough to sting my eyes. Signs creak. Loose paper spirals upward like frightened birds.
People are running the opposite direction, faces pale, hands over their heads.
"Get back!" someone shouts at me.
I don't listen.
I shove through.
My legs burn. My throat tastes like metal.
Kotori's marker blinks in my mind like a heartbeat.
Why would she go there?
Why would she stay there?
Anger keeps me moving. Fear keeps me alive.
She's gonna get so many flicks on the forehead for this...
The ground shudders again and I nearly lose my footing.
I stagger forward anyway.
Because the promise is heavier than my common sense.
Because she's my sister.
Because if something happens and I wasn't there....
No.
I can't.
I reach the edge of the epicenter and everything becomes wind.
It slams into me like a wall, pushing at my chest, trying to throw me back. Dust and grit sting my face. My eyes water.
Then I see it.
Her.
Not Kotori.
Someone else...
A girl with long purple hair, sitting like a queen on a floating throne, as if the disaster around her is just scenery.
She looks unreal.
Like a painting stepped out of its frame.
And when she turns her head toward me, the world gets colder.
Her eyes lock on mine.
Her expression is blank.
I couldn't help but stare
And then she moves
First she stands up.....
She readies her weapon in a battle stance...
Wait a minute...
What is she....?
The air splits.
Something sharp, invisible, fast—coming straight at me.
She practically teleported. The large sword reached me in no time and was about to dissect me into pieces.....
Was I... about to die?
My whole life flashed in front of my eyes...
I think of Katori's face. A face I would never be able to see again.
I think of my dreams and aspirations as a person.
I think of my whole life.....
Then... just as her blade was mere centimeters away...
Instinct takes over
I don't think.
I don't plan.
My body just moves.
I twist, step, duck—like I've done it a thousand times.
The attack misses by inches.
Wind screams behind me where it passes.
I freeze, heart hammering.
The destruction it caused behind me could be heard, I didn't need to look.
..Did I...
...Did I just dodge that?
I stare at my own hands like they belong to someone else.
That wasn't normal.
That wasn't me.
Not that I'm complaining....
The girl's eyes widen a fraction. She raises her arm again. Ready for another strike
My mouth opens before my fear can stop it.
"Wait!"
She pauses.
Not fully. Just enough.
The throne hovers, hair whipping in the storm.
Up close, she's... beautiful. It's not even a thought, it's just a fact that hits me like light.
And her face—
It's not anger.
It's not hatred.
It's... lonely..?
Like she's standing in the middle of a room full of people and no one can hear her.
"W-What's your name?" I blurt.
Her brows knit slightly.
"I..." she hesitates.
Then her voice comes out soft, almost sad.
"I don't have one."
My chest tightens.
We stare at each other.
Her eyes are... melancholy. Old, somehow. Not like a teenager at all.
For half a second the wind feels quieter.
Then her arm rises again.
She's going to strike.
"Wait wait wait!" I shout, panic crashing through me.
She stops mid-motion, confused.
"What...?" she says.
Her head tilts like she can't tell if I'm stupid or brave.
"What are you planning to do?" she asks.
I blink hard. "Planning? I'm not planning anything!"
Her gaze sharpens.
"Of course you are," she says, tone flat like it's obvious. "To kill me quickly."
My eyes widen so hard it hurts. "Why?! Why would I do that?!"
She looks at me like I'm the one who doesn't understand basic math.
"Why...?" she repeats. "Isn't that obvious?"
"No!" I shake my head. "No, it's not obvious!"
Her lips part slightly, surprise flickering across her face.
"After all," she says slowly, "didn't you come to kill me too?"
My stomach drops.
"No!" I shout again, louder. "I didn't! I don't even know who you are!"
She stares.
She looks at me with a face full of suprise and suspicion... her eyes
Like that possibility never even existed in her world.
For a second she just... looks lost.
Then—
A shriek tears through the sky.
Missiles.
My blood turns to ice.
Metal streaks down toward us, trailing smoke like falling stars.
The girl's eyes harden instantly.
She throws up her hand.
A barrier blooms in front of us—transparent, warped, like space itself folded into a shield.
The missiles hit.
And instead of exploding normally, they... crumple.
Compress.
Like invisible hands are crushing them into tiny, screaming balls of metal.
Then they detonate, but the explosion looks wrong—contained, distorted, swallowed by the barrier like it's being eaten.
I stand there frozen, mouth open, brain failing to keep up.
She's... she's insane.
Power like that isn't human.
The smoke clears just enough for me to see shapes descending through it.
Armored figures.
Weapons.
A squad.
And at the front—
Origami.....?
Except not classroom Origami.
This Origami is wearing a strange white combat suit with black accents, like something out of a military sci-fi movie. Her hair whips in the wind but her posture is perfectly steady, like she was built for this.
Her eyes land on me.
For the first time, her expression cracks.
"...Itsuka Shidou...?" she says, voice sharp with surprise.
I choke on air. "Origami?!"
She doesn't answer my shock. She snaps her gaze to the Spirit, weapon raised.
Then she barks, "Get back! You shouldn't be here!"
I point helplessly between them. "You—what—WHY ARE YOU DRESSED LIKE THAT?!"
Origami doesn't blink. "Move."
The Spirit's eyes flare with anger now. Confusion is gone. Loneliness is gone.
Only threat remains.
She shifts on her throne, energy gathering like thunder.
Origami launches forward.
Missiles, bullets, steel, light—
The air becomes violence.
I stumble back, shielding my face as shockwaves slam into the street. Wind whips hard enough to lift dust into knives.
The Spirit swings.
Origami dodges.
Explosions crack.
The ground trembles.
And I—
I can't breathe.
I can't even think.
Kotori's location still blinks on my phone, forgotten in my hand like a ticking bomb.
She's here.
Somewhere close.
And I'm trapped in the middle of a fight between monsters.
The pressure suddenly spikes.
A wall of force erupts outward—like the clash of two worlds colliding.
It hits me.
My feet leave the ground.
For one floating second, everything slows.
Wind screams.
My phone slips.
My body turns.
And the only thought in my head is Kotori's voice, soft and serious:
Promise you'll come... even if a spacequake happens.
"Kotori—" I try to say.
Then something hard slams into the back of my head.
Light explodes behind my eyes.
The sky flips.
The world goes silent.
And everything turns black.
_____
Is this a Strange crossover?
Yup I'm bored
Let me know what you guys think.