Haunted Home Visit
The late afternoon sun cut through the windows of the store, scattering through the countless hanging charms and talismans that lined the shop. Hundreds of tiny gold threads, bells, and paper strips caught the light, making the whole place look like it was underwater with gold and red flickering against the haze of incense.
Liú Měi sat behind the counter, chin in her hand, tapping a brush against an open ledger. Her expression was equal parts serene and dying of boredom.
Across from her, Sayaka Koujin was slouched in one of the plush armchairs meant for customers, spinning a small wooden prayer wheel between her fingers. “You ever think,” she began, voice slow, “that if we stare at enough lucky charms, one of them’s bound to work and make something happen?”
Měi groaned softly. “If that were true, I’d have already ascended to immortality by now.”
Sayaka grinned, leaning back further. “Or at least gotten a boyfriend.”
Měi flicked the brush at her. “Watch it, or I’ll have Grand-Mama hang you up next to the cursed mirror section.”
Sayaka laughed, kicking her legs up. “You’d have to catch me first.”
The shop bell chimed.
Standing in the doorway, looking faintly out of place against the rows of glowing charms, was Ran Nejima.
He blinked. “...Oh. You two work here?”
Sayaka shot Měi a look. “...Since when does he shop for talismans?”
Měi was already smiling, polite and businesslike. “Welcome! What can we help you with today?”
Ran rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around the shelves. “Uh… right. Charms. Protective ones."
Sayaka raised an eyebrow. “Protective charms? Didn’t take you for the type.”
“Yeah, well,” he muttered, picking up a talisman shaped like a paper tiger. “Wasn’t. Still not, really.”
Měi tilted her head, curiosity piqued. “Then what changed your mind?”
He hesitated, thumb brushing the edge of the paper charm. “...Got something I need to do.”
Sayaka crossed her arms. “Which is?”
Ran looked up, face serious in that way that always made people pay attention. “Going to check in on Shu.”
Měi blinked. “President Jinkō?”
“Yeah,” Ran said.
The narrow streets of Kageoka’s old districts twisted like veins, the further they walked, the quieter the world seemed to get. Cracked stone, storefronts turned to boarded windows, and even the air felt thicker like they were crossing some invisible border.
Ran led the way, hands in his jacket pockets, every so often glancing over his shoulder to make sure the girls were still following. Sayaka walked next to him, half curious, half nervous. Behind them, Měi carried a small wooden box of assorted charms under her arm.
“Just to be clear,” Sayaka said, breaking the silence, “we’re not… trespassing right now, right?”
Ran gave a short laugh. “Technically, no. I mean, the sign said ‘Restricted,’ not ‘Keep Out Forever.’”
Sayaka shot him a look. “Wow. That’s… reassuring.”
Měi grinned, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Don’t worry, Sayaka. Think of this as field work. We’re professionals evaluating our products in real-world conditions.”
Sayaka squinted at her. “You just didn’t want to stay at the shop.”
Měi’s smile turned sly. “Well, that too. But mostly…” she gave Sayaka a playful elbow, “I figured you’d want to check on the president. Since you care so much about student council matters.”
Sayaka sputtered, face instantly red. “I—I don’t—! I mean, it’s not like that!”
Ran raised an eyebrow.
“Shut up!” she huffed, walking faster.
Měi chuckled under her breath. “Adorable.”
They walked on, the laughter slowly fading as the streets grew stranger with the architecture twisting between modern and prewar, buildings half-fused to older ones beneath. A tangle of old power lines hung overhead like black vines.
“So…” Sayaka finally asked, “what exactly happened to Shu again?”
Ran sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, that. Long story short? Prez jumped into something stupid again.”
Měi tilted her head. “Define ‘stupid.’”
“Some girl was getting dragged off by a thug,” Ran said. “He stepped in. The guy practically leveled a an entire floor of the building with him.”
Sayaka blinked. “Wait—what?”
“Yeah,” Ran said. “Old structure in the back alleys near the river. They both walked out, but still.”
Měi frowned lightly. “Aaaaanyway, tell me more about this ‘bad juju’ at the prez's place you mentioned.”
“Oh yeah,” Ran said. “I was at his place once, a while ago. You could feel it, man. That place is haunted.”
Sayaka shivered. “You mean haunted haunted, not just metaphorically haunted.”
Ran nodded. “Yeah. The real deal. I don’t know if it’s a ghost, a curse, or something worse, but the energy there is wrong. So I figured, since everyone’s heading over today to check in on him, I might as well stock up on protection. Thought I’d grab enough charms for everyone.”
Měi’s tone softened a little. “That’s… actually thoughtful.”
Ran shrugged. “Somebody’s gotta think ahead.”
The road narrowed into a single cracked lane, lined with rusted street lamps that hadn’t lit in years.
At the end of it stood a single, leaning apartment building, windows shuttered and black.
Ran stopped, adjusting the strap on the bag full of charms. “Well. Here we are.”
Měi glanced at the structure, her usual bright expression dimming a little. “Charming place. Real fixer-upper.”
Three floors of leaning concrete, cracked windowpanes, and sagging power cables that buzzed faintly despite there being no visible source of electricity.
Ran slowed his pace as they rounded the corner to the front. What he expected to find was silence. Instead, he got… a crowd.
Madoka Onguuchi was the first to wave, her bright smile totally at odds with the atmosphere. “Oh, Ran! Perfect timing!”
Next to her, Yae Zennami stood with arms crossed, feigning nonchalance but very obviously glancing up at Shu’s dark window every few seconds. She looked like she was trying very hard not to be nervous.
And then there was Momofuku Chikata, standing off to the side, holding a big tupperware full of curry like it was radioactive. Her cheeks were red.
Madoka grinned, nudging her with an elbow. “Get this, Ran—apparently Momo’s grandma made way too much curry, so she told Momo to bring it here for Shu. Can you believe it? The president’s living the high life—first an apartment all for himself, now home-cooked meals delivered to his door!”
Momo groaned, trying to hide behind her bangs. “Madoka, please.”
“Aw, come on!” Madoka laughed. “You’re doing a good deed for a recovering man. It’s practically community service!”
“Yeah, sure.” Momo muttered
A little further off, Meliaya "Yaya" Mihama was crouched near the base of the building, poking a stick at something in the weeds. “It’s moving! Wait—nope, is it dead?"
“Don’t say that,” Takaishi Kuroda muttered, clutching the small cardboard box of vegetables he’d brought like a peace offering. His eyes darted between the building’s cracked windows and the flickering streetlight above. “This place already feels wrong.”
Sayaka leaned toward Měi, whispering under her breath, “...You’re sure we’re not gonna, like, catch a curse standing here?”
Měi smiled. “Relax. If it’s really cursed, we’ll get to test how well our products work. That’s called field data.”
Sayaka groaned. “You sound way too excited about that.”
The sound of hesitant footsteps echoed from the corner before the group could fully settle.
Madoka was the first to notice. “Oh—company incoming!”
Two figures rounded the bend of the narrow street: Kaoru Nagamine—immaculate uniform, hair trimmed neatly into a short bob that reflected the light like polished steel, and her trademark round glasses hiding her eyes—and beside her, Ai Suishi.
Ai’s head was bowed low, hands clasped tight in front of her skirt. Every few steps she’d glance up, catch sight of the crowd around Shu’s door, and then instantly look back down again.
Kaoru, by contrast, was composed to a fault. She adjusted her glasses as they approached, tone clipped but polite. “Apologies for the delay. We ran into some detours—this district’s layout is… less than optimal.”
Madoka waved brightly. “No problem! We just got here!"
Yae smiled faintly. “You two came together?”
“Yes,” Kaoru said simply. “Suishi-san and I happened to cross paths near the station. She mentioned she wanted to come visit President Jinkō as well.”
Ai’s head jerked up slightly, eyes wide. “I—I—” she stammered, but Kaoru smoothly continued.
“She wished to express her concern for his well-being,” Kaoru said, hands clasped neatly in front of her. “And her gratitude. After everything the student council has done for her, it only seemed proper to visit.”
Ai blinked once, her lips twitching in a way that was half panic, half relief.
Inside her head, the thoughts were racing: Nice save. Nice save, Kaoru. That’s what I have you for.
Madoka grinned, totally buying it. “Aww, that’s sweet! Look at you, Ai, being all thoughtful.”
Ai’s voice barely made it past her lips. “Y-yes… thoughtful…”
Sayaka and Měi exchanged a look—one of those quiet, knowing glances where both understood this was delicate territory. Sayaka just gave a small thumbs-up from behind Ran’s shoulder.
Kaoru inclined her head slightly toward Yae, her tone as flatly diplomatic as ever. “I hope our presence isn’t inconvenient. We can wait our turn if necessary.”
“Not at all,” Yae said quickly, gesturing toward the group. “You came all this way, you might as well join us. The more the merrier, right?”
Ran muttered under his breath, “Yeah, because nothing says ‘merry’ like a haunted house visitation party.”
Madoka elbowed him, still grinning. “Don’t ruin the mood, grumpy.”
Ai stood perfectly still, eyes fixed on the cracked doorway ahead. Her pulse was a drum in her ears, her stomach a knot of dread and longing.
Momo, noticing her stiffness, offered a small, awkward smile. “Hey… You okay? You look kinda pale.”
Ai blinked at her, mouth dry. “I’m… fine. Just… nervous.”
“Yeah,” Momo said softly, holding up her tupperware. “Can relate.”
The door to Shu’s place gave a long, groaning creak, swinging open a few centimeters before stopping.
Everyone froze.
Even Yaya’s stick stilled mid-air.
Then, a muffled voice floated out from the gloom inside. “...Is that curry I smell?”
Ran smirked. “Guess that’s our cue.”
Madoka grinned wide. “He lives!”
“Hey… you all came?”
Shu Jinkō stood in the doorway, hair a mess, bandages visible under his collar, and a grin that looked a little too relaxed for someone living in a cursed building.
Madoka raised her hand dramatically. “Surprise house visit party! And we brought food and vegetables and charms and friendship!”
Shu blinked at the crowd, counting faces.
Ran, Sayaka, Měi, Yae, Madoka, Yaya, Momo, Takaishi, Kaoru, Ai—
He laughed weakly. “You guys really did bring half the school, huh?”
Inside, it became clear within ten seconds that the great Shu Jinkō, Student Council President, savior of stray kittens and legendary disaster magnet, lived like a broke college student squatting in an exorcism site.
The entranceway was barely wide enough for everyone’s shoes. The wallpaper peeled in long strips, one of the ceiling lights flickered a sad Morse code, and the tatami mats had definitely seen better centuries. A single futon sat rolled up in the corner beside a cracked TV.
Shu rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish but still smiling. “Yeah, uh… home sweet home. Rent’s dirt-cheap, though!”
Takaishi, who already looked like he wanted to burn sage, muttered, “Yeah. Wonder why.”
Madoka clapped her hands together. “Alright, alright, haunted or not, we brought goodies! First up, from our local farmers’ market hero—Takaishi!”
Takaishi reluctantly stepped forward and handed Shu the small box of vegetables. “They’re… fresh. My mom said they’re good for recovery.”
Shu accepted them like they were gold bars. “Perfect. I’ll cook them into something edible. Eventually.”
Then came Momo’s turn. She stood stiffly by the door, clutching the large tupperware like it might explode. “H-here.”
Shu blinked, recognizing the scent before the container. “Is that… curry?”
Madoka couldn’t help herself. “Her grandma’s curry!”
Momo shot her a death glare before shoving the container into Shu’s hands. “It’s just extra. Don’t make it weird.”
Shu chuckled, setting it carefully on his rickety table. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Please tell your grandma I said thanks—and that I’ll drop by as soon as I can to hang out again. She’s way too cool not to.”
That made Momo freeze for half a second, color creeping up her neck. “…Y-yeah. Sure. I’ll tell her.”
Madoka laughed. “Yeah, Grandma might want to sprinkle salt over that container when you return it too. It might get cursed if it stays too long here.”
Kaoru, meanwhile, was taking quiet mental notes—how the temperature dropped near the window, how Ai hadn’t lifted her head once since stepping inside, how the faint sound of whispering came from the walls whenever Shu stopped talking.
And Ai? She was standing just inside the doorway, staring at the floorboards, her pulse loud in her ears.
Shu’s apartment barely held them all; eleven bodies packed into the small living room felt like trying to host a festival inside a storage closet. The low table was covered in vegetables, curry, snacks and drinks.
Shu blinked when he noticed Sayaka and Měi hovering near the doorway, both standing politely like they weren’t sure if they should step inside. “Oh—Sayaka, Měi! Didn’t expect to see you two here.”
Sayaka rubbed the back of her neck, grinning. “Heh, yeah, surprise visit.”
Měi gave a light bow. “Ran dropped by the store for charms earlier. We figured we’d tag along—professional quality control.”
“Quality control, huh?” Shu chuckled. “Guess that makes me your test subject.”
Ran snorted. “You’re the one living in a B-tier horror movie, Prez.”
“Hey, it’s not that bad,” Shu said, waving him off. “The plumbing works, the roof mostly doesn’t leak, and the haunting’s pretty chill. Only knocks twice a night now.”
That earned him a round of what the hells from Sayaka, Yaya, and Takaishi.
Once the initial chaos settled, they all sat down in a rough circle around the table. Yae took charge of logistics, naturally. “Alright, we’ve got snacks, charms? That can wait I guess. Let's see we need cups for one, two... twelve people? Wait what?”
Madoka squinted. “Twelve? Wait—there’s… Ran, Yae, Madoka, Yaya, Takaishi, Momo, Ai, Kaoru, Sayaka, Měi, and Shu. Yeah. Eleven.”
Madoka made a quick headcount. Somehow, she counted twelve.
“What?”
“Yeah, twelve.”
Takaishi double-checked. “You sure you didn’t count an extra?”
“I counted,” Madoka said flatly. “There were eleven.”
They recounted. This time, there were exactly eleven people.
Ran grabbed a handful of paper cups and handed them over. “Eleven cups. Done. Don't pay attention to the weird stuff, try to ignore it as best as you can.”
“...Maybe the ghosts want a drink,” Sayaka offered weakly.
“Very funny,” Yae muttered, though her voice was a touch too tight.
Kenji’s voice from somewhere outside the fourth wall would’ve said perfect pacing, beautiful unease.
For a heartbeat, no one said anything.
Then Yaya sneezed loud enough to make half the group jump, and Madoka burst out laughing. “Okay, okay, let’s not freak ourselves out before dinner.”
The laughter returned, a bit forced this time until things calmed down.
For a bit everything was fine.
Momo leaned sideways, reaching for a napkin that had fluttered off the table. “Hold up—lemme just—” she muttered, ducking under the low wood surface.
For a second, the chatter around her muffled—the sound of spoons clinking and Yaya’s humming fading into a low hum.
The floorboards were dusty under there. She could see everyone’s knees, the legs of the table—
and another pair of legs.
Bare. Gray. Standing still on the other side.
Momo froze. Her breath hitched—then the thing tilted its head down toward her. She didn’t see a face. Just the motion.
“—the hell?!”
Thud!
She shot up too fast and smacked her head on the table hard enough to rattle the cups. Everyone jumped.
“Whoa, Momo—what the hell!?” Ran exclaimed.
She clutched her head, wide-eyed. “Something—there was something under the table!”
Takaishi blinked. “You mean… like a bug or—”
“No!” she snapped. “A person! Legs—something was there!”
Everyone stared at the floor. Of course, there was nothing there.
Yaya nervously peeked under anyway. “...Nope. Just dust. You might need to vacuum more, Prez.”
Shu laughed weakly. “Yeah, that’s probably true.”
They tried to move on—talked louder, laughed harder.
Then Yaya stopped smiling.
“Uh, hey, Prez?” she said, her voice quiet.
“Yeah?”
“Can we swap seats?”
Shu blinked. “Huh? Why?”
She was still staring past him, toward the grimy window behind his head. “Because I can see something standing outside.”
Everyone turned to look.
The window faced open air—a two-story drop to the street below. No balcony. No ledge. Nothing.
The glass was fogged from the inside, but on the other side of it… was a silhouette.
A tall one. Still.
By the time they blinked, it was gone.
Takaishi cleared his throat. “...That’s normal, right? Someone tell me that’s normal.”
Ran rubbed his face. “Prez, your neighbors suck.”
“Yeah,” Shu said with an uneasy smile. “I’ll, uh, bring it up at the next haunted tenants’ meeting.”
They all tried to laugh again, but it didn’t land this time.
A while later, when the tension had thinned just enough for people to breathe again, Sayaka went to pour herself another drink. She glanced toward the door, distracted—then froze.
Her can slipped from her hand, spilling soda across the floor.
“...Guys,” she said quietly. “Please tell me one of you did that.”
They followed her gaze.
The shoes by the entrance—every pair neatly placed when they’d entered—had been rearranged.
No, not rearranged. Stacked.
Each pair balanced on another, heel to toe, in a perfectly straight column that reached to the ceiling.
Eleven pairs.
No one had gone near the door.
Even Shu was speechless, staring.
“…Okay,” Madoka finally said, voice higher than usual. “So. We’re not just haunted. Not even haunted haunted. Prez you're haunted haunted haunted. Just putting that out there.”
Ran exhaled slowly. “Yeah. I’m starting to think your rent isn’t cheap enough, Prez.”
Kaoru watched from behind her fogged glasses, chin propped on her hand, expression unreadable. The group had mostly settled again—mostly—but the atmosphere remained heavy.
Across from her, Ai Suishi sat perfectly still. Too still. Her hair hung like a veil, concealing the intensity in her eyes. The others fidgeted, laughed nervously, darted glances toward corners and walls. Ai didn’t. Not once.
She looked disturbingly calm.
Kaoru noted the subtle tremor in her fingers, the tension at her jaw. Composed on the outside, she thought, but she’s close to snapping again. Still—whatever strange energy haunted Shu’s apartment, Ai seemed unfazed by it. If anything, it felt like it was avoiding her.
Across the room, Měi had cornered Takaishi by the window, her tone bright and casual, but her words sharp as a training blade.
“So, you’re on the gardening club, right? And you work at a flower shop?”
“Uh, yeah. Sort of. I mean, I help at my family’s place, and—”
“You’ve got good balance. Shoulders like that, center of gravity low. You’d do well in martial arts,” she said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Ever trained before?”
He blinked. “Not really. I mean, I can run, lift, carry heavy stuff—”
Měi sighed like a disappointed teacher. “A waste. You’ve got the body for it. Not training’s like owning a sports car and never leaving the garage.”
Ran grinned from across the table. “She’s not wrong. You’re built like a tank, man.”
Takaishi flushed, mumbling something about “not being a fighter.”
Shu, sitting nearby, perked up at the mention of training. “Actually… that’s something I’ve been thinking about too.”
Everyone turned toward him.
“I mean, with all the stuff that keeps happening lately, maybe I should, you know—learn to throw a proper punch. Or at least dodge better next time someone tries to use me as a punching bag.”
Ran laughed. “Yeah, I heard about that. You’re lucky you got away with those injuries. I've seen you in a fight, and some practice would be good for you. You just get by by being lucky.”
“Lucky’s my middle name,” Shu said with his trademark grin. “But still. I could use some help.”
He looked between Měi, Sayaka, Momo and even Madoka—three people who could probably kill a man with varying levels of grace and enthusiasm. “You guys are the real martial artists and fighters here. Maybe we could run some practice sessions together? You know, a mix of PE and training.”
Sayaka’s eyes lit up immediately. “Yes! Finally! I’ve been saying we should have a self-defense club!”
Měi nodded approvingly. “A splendid idea. Discipline of the body, clarity of mind, harmony of spirit—”
Ran interrupted with a grin. “You just want to throw people again.”
“...That too,” Měi admitted.
Yae smirked from her seat. “If this turns into an official activity, I’ll make sure it’s approved—after all, I’m the one who has to deal with the paperwork when the Prez breaks something.”
“That’s the spirit,” Shu said cheerfully, before turning to Ai.
“And hey—speaking of PE… Ai, if you want, maybe you can join in too? You’ve been missing some classes, right? This way, you could make them up and train with everyone.”
The entire room went still.
Even the lights seemed to hum louder.
Ai’s head tilted slightly. Her hair shifted just enough for one eye to catch the dim glow of the bulb. She looked at Shu—directly, for the first time since stepping inside.
Her lips parted.
“I—”
She stopped, fingers curling tight on her lap.
Kaoru’s heart skipped. She didn’t know what Ai was about to say, but she could feel the shift in pressure.
Momo coughed loudly, cutting in. “Yeah, that sounds, uh, great! Team bonding and all that.”
“Exactly,” Shu said, completely unaware of the tension his invitation had caused. “We’ll get everyone moving. A full group session—body and spirit!”
Měi pumped a fist. “That’s the energy!”
Ai just sat there, trembling slightly under her hair, her face a mix of awe, dread, and whatever else lurked in her sick mind.
Kaoru quietly adjusted her glasses, murmuring to herself.
“Of course he’d say that.”
Takaishi crouched behind Shu, trying not to tug too hard at the bandages. “Hold still, Prez. These things are slipping all over the place—how the hell did you wrap yourself like this?”
“With maximum effort,” Shu said matter-of-factly. “Didn’t think I’d need a license for first aid.”
Ran snorted from beside them, holding a roll of tape. “You should’ve just called me. I’ve got experience patching up idiots who jump into danger without thinking.”
“Experience being one of them, maybe,” Shu shot back.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the cramped apartment, Yae, Sayaka, and Ai perked up immediately the moment Shu peeled his shirt off to fix the bandages.
Sayaka leaned forward. What is that walking fanservice beacon doing? she thought.
Yae crossed her arms, trying (and failing) to act casual.
Ai said nothing. Her knuckles were white where she gripped the edge of the table. The faint tremor in her breath was almost imperceptible, but Kaoru, seated beside her, definitely noticed.
Unfortunately, any chance at a “view” died instantly.
Ran and Takaishi—absolute walls of muscle—moved into position like they were hired bodyguards at a strip show.
Yae’s eye twitched. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Sayaka slumped forward, dramatic. “My life is pain.”
Even Ai, despite the storm of emotions behind her mask, had a faint, stunned twitch of her lips—somewhere between disbelief and agony.
The two guys, oblivious to the spiritual massacre occurring behind them, were just doing their job.
“...Didn’t take you for the tattoo type, Prez,” Ran muttered as he adjusted the bandages.
Shu blinked. “Huh?”
Takaishi squinted, leaning closer. “Yeah, under the wrapping—on your chest. It’s faint, but I swear I saw something. Looked like a tattoo. Black. Butterfly-shaped.”
Shu tilted his head. “...Butterfly?”
Ran nodded. “Four wings, right? Creepy design, kind of abstract.”
That got the attention of everyone in the room.
Sayaka straightened, eyes wide. “Wait—did you say four wings?”
Měi looked up from where she’d been stacking empty cans. “Like, exactly four? Two on each side?”
“Yeah,” Ran said, “why?”
Sayaka and Měi exchanged a look.
Sayaka swallowed. “We’ve… seen something like that.”
The room quieted.
“When Měi and I were heading home from the station last week,” she said slowly, “we helped this girl who collapsed near the subway stairs. She had the same mark. Black, four wings, almost like it was burned into her skin.”
Měi nodded grimly. “Grand-Mama said it was no ordinary symbol. Something tied to spiritual interference. She told us to stay alert—said it was a ‘mark of demise.’”
Ran frowned. “You think it’s a curse?”
“Yeah, but not a normal one.” Měi’s tone was careful, searching for the right words. “More like… a stamp. A claim.”
Sayaka hesitated. “I got one too, that night. It appeared out of nowhere after we helped that girl.”
The air dropped a few degrees.
Shu blinked at her, genuinely confused. “Wait—you’re saying I have one of those? But I’ve never—”
Kaoru interrupted, voice level but tense. “You should probably get that checked out. Supernatural or not, it’s not something you ignore.”
Yae leaned against the wall, arms folded. “So what, the Prez is haunted and branded now?”
Ran muttered, “Figures.”
Madoka exhaled, half amused, half uneasy. “Well, at least it’s not a tramp stamp, right?”
The joke fell flat.
Shu rubbed the back of his neck, smiling faintly despite the tension. “Guess I really do attract weird stuff, huh?”
At first, Shu thought it was just nerves — the tension after all the ghost nonsense, the curry fumes, the overcrowded room.
But then the sensation moved.
A strange pull in his chest — faint, rhythmic, almost like a second heartbeat — tugging toward Sayaka.
He blinked, hand unconsciously drifting over his sternum. “...That’s weird.”
Sayaka tilted her head. “What is?”
“I dunno. I feel... like something’s pulling me toward you?”
The room collectively went quiet for the fourth or fifth time that evening.
Měi raised an eyebrow. “You trying a new pickup line, President?”
Shu chuckled awkwardly. “No, I mean—really. It’s like static, or gravity, or…” He frowned. “...resonance?”
A tug beneath his ribs, faint but insistent — like someone had hooked an invisible thread through his chest and was gently reeling him in.
“I dunno,” Shu said, rolling his shoulder. “Feels like… something’s pulling me toward you.”
Sayaka blinked. “Uh… pulling you how exactly?”
Ran smirked. “Careful, Prez, that’s still textbook pickup line delivery.”
Ai didn’t breathe.
Her body went rigid, pulse roaring in her ears.
Sayaka.
Of course it had to be Sayaka.
The girl who always sparkled like sunlight, all laughter and charm and effortless closeness — and now Shu was looking at her like that, voice gone soft with concern, like she was special.
Ai’s fingernails bit into her thigh under the table. Don’t move. Don’t speak. Don’t snap.
But then it happened again.
Shu was about to ask more when another tug hit him — from a different direction. His eyes darted toward Madoka, who was mid-sip of tea.
“What?” she asked, blinking at him.
Shu stood, confused, his hand still on his chest. “Madoka, come here a sec.”
She raised a brow. “You’re not gonna start saying weird spiritual stuff again, are you?”
“Please just humor me,” he said, serious enough that everyone went silent.
When she approached, the pull intensified — heavy and magnetic, right between them.
“...You too.”
Madoka blinked mid-sip of tea. “Me too what?”
“There’s another mark,” Shu said. “Same feeling.”
Madoka looked doubtful but humored him, getting up to check the bathroom mirror.
The others waited, half-expecting her to laugh it off.
Instead, her voice called out, tight and serious:
“Yeah. It’s there.”
Yae, Kaoru, and Takaishi all checked next — one by one — each returning with the same faint dread in their faces. Each with the black butterfly.
Every time Shu spoke softly to one of them, brushed their shoulder, leaned closer to see if the feeling changed — Ai’s mind blurred at the edges.
Her thoughts spiraled, rapid-fire, jagged:
Don’t touch her. Don’t talk to her like that. Why do they all have it? Why not me?
Her breathing turned shallow.
If Kaoru noticed, she didn’t say a word — but she kept one hand ready near Ai’s arm, just in case.
Finally, Shu sighed, looking over the group. “So it’s all of you. Sayaka, Madoka, Yae, Kaoru, and Takaishi.”
Ran frowned. “And you can feel them all?”
“Yeah. Like a link. A pulse.”
Ai’s vision fuzzed. Link? Pulse?
Something inside her chest twisted so sharply she almost made a sound.
Shu tried to lighten the mood. “Guess we’re a matching set now.”
Yae paced near the table, arms folded. “Alright, let’s summarize: Shu has a freaky tattoo he didn’t know about, half of us suddenly do too, and he can feel all of them?”
“Sounds about right,” Ran muttered, rubbing his temple.
Sayaka frowned, rolling her sleeve back down. “What worries me is that we all got marked without knowing it. That doesn’t just happen.”
Měi nodded solemnly. “These kinds of things are deliberate. Someone—well, something—chose you.”
Kaoru, still scribbling in her notebook, murmured, “And the unmarked ones might not be untouched. They could manifest their marks later, since we don't have much info on whatever system this works under.”
She hadn’t said much since the talk began, but now, Ai’s voice came out faintly:
“…I might not have the mark, but… I can feel something.”
Everyone looked at her.
Momo nodded, glancing at Ai as if for permission before speaking. “Yeah. It’s weird, but same here. Like… I can feel you guys. The ones with the marks.”
“Wait, what?” Madoka leaned forward. “You mean us?”
Momo nodded again. “Like threads in the air. It’s faint, but it’s there.”
Ai’s voice shook slightly. “It feels like… a pull.”
Her hands were clasped so tightly in her lap that her knuckles had gone white.
Shu blinked. “So you feel it too?”
Ai nodded, eyes still lowered. “Yes. But…”
“But?”
Her voice trembled. “You don’t feel it back.”
Silence.
Shu opened his mouth—then stopped.
He’d already tested it subconsciously, reaching inward, trying to sense that strange resonance that linked him to the others.
And it was true.
Nothing. No pull. No hum. Nothing that tied him to Ai or Momo.
Momo’s expression was unreadable—half thoughtful, half bitter. “Figures.”
Sayaka rubbed her neck. “Maybe it’s some kind of polarity thing? Like… opposites don’t attract?”
Yae gave her a flat look. “That’s magnets, Sayaka.”
Madoka sighed, turning to Momo. “You sure you’re not just missing it? Maybe it’s hidden like a faint bruise or—”
“Madoka,” Momo interrupted. “I know my body.”
The deadpan delivery silenced her for a second.
“…Fair,” Madoka admitted. Then, with a smirk: “Still, humor me. Go check anyway. You might’ve missed something.”
Momo rolled her eyes but stood.
She disappeared into the bathroom.
A long pause followed, broken only by the hum of the fridge.
Then: “Nothing. Happy?”
Madoka raised her hands. “Thoroughly.”
All eyes then turned to Ai.
She froze, pulse hammering. “…Me?”
Kaoru nodded gently. “Just to be sure. You don’t have to if it’s—”
“I’ll do it,” Ai said quickly, cutting her off.
Her voice was thin, trembling, but determined.
If Shu asked me, I’d do worse than this.
She stood, nearly stumbling over her own feet, and went inside.
The lock clicked behind her.
Time crawled.
The others talked in hushed tones, their voices filtering faintly through the door.
Inside, Ai stood before the cracked mirror, her breathing ragged. Her fingers shook as she touched her skin—her arms, her shoulder, her neck—everywhere the others had found their marks.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Her reflection looked back at her, pale and haunted.
“…Please,” she whispered. “Please let me have one too…”
But there was nothing.
No light. No pulse.
Just her.
When she returned, her face was composed again, mask-like. “There’s nothing.”
No one said anything.
Madoka exhaled, rubbing her temple. “Alright. Then we’re out of our depth here.” She straightened. “Tomorrow, we ask Kukurihime.”
Yae smirked faintly, trying to defuse the tension. “Guess that’s our homework, then.”
Shu managed a small grin. “At least we’ll get divine tutoring.”
Kaoru lingered behind as the others shuffled out the door — still murmuring half-hearted jokes to cut the unease. Shu was promising to “call a maintenance exorcist,” Madoka was insisting on a full-body cleanse and getting some help from Kanna-p, and Ran was loudly declaring he’d never step foot in the place again.
Ai slowly walked away, arms loosely folded, face calm — too calm. Her stillness didn’t fit the exhaustion in her eyes, nor the tremor she kept forcing out of her hands.
Kaoru got a similar vibe to another time.
When Ai had tried to kill her.
Except her eyes were different. Back then, Ai’s expression had been broken glass — all sharp edges and reflections.
Now it was smooth porcelain.
When the others finally filed out, Kaoru moved closer to Ai. “Hey.”
Ai turned slowly, her movements deliberate, graceful even. “Yes?”
“You… handled yourself well tonight.”
The words left Kaoru’s mouth before she’d really decided to say them. She wasn’t the type to give comfort, and even less to give praise. But part of her had been bracing for Ai to snap — to start shaking, crying, clawing, something.
And yet, she hadn’t.
Ai’s lips curved faintly. “Did I?”
Kaoru nodded. “Considering everything. The crowd, the… him.”
She gestured vaguely toward the door where Shu had gone. “You didn’t lose it.”
Ai’s eyes softened for half a second. Then her tone shifted — quiet, flat, and almost eerily serene.
“Of course I didn’t. There’s still a lot to do.”
Kaoru blinked. “Do?”
“I have to find whoever did that to him.”
The way Ai said it — not if, not when, but have to — chilled Kaoru straight through.
Her voice carried no heat, no emotion. Not anger, not grief.
Just an unnatural steadiness — the kind of calm that sat on top of something bottomless and black.
Kaoru felt it — the quiet certainty of someone who would tear down heaven brick by brick if it meant protecting the one thing anchoring her sanity.
For the first time that night, Kaoru’s stomach twisted. She’d been so preoccupied with the supernatural marks, with theories and patterns and rules, that she’d almost forgotten the simplest truth.
She didn’t know Ai Suishi.
Not really.
The calmest version of Ai was the one she should have feared most.