The storm returned that night.
But not outside — inside Reiko's dream.
She stood barefoot in a sea of black feathers, the sky above her cracked like shattered glass. A thousand red eyes blinked across the heavens.
One of them opened wide.
The Eye.
It watched her.
Chains slithered from the darkness, wrapping her arms, her throat. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't scream.
A voice whispered from behind the Eye.
"You are the blood of the Vessel…
You are the broken key…"
A hand reached out from the void — pale, decayed, and trembling.
And just before it touched her forehead—
Reiko woke up screaming.
---
At school, Kino met her with worry in her eyes.
"You look like hell."
"I saw it again," Reiko murmured, clutching her trembling fingers. "The Eye. And chains. And… something called the Broken Key."
Kino frowned. "We need answers. Today."
---
They skipped lunch.
Instead, Kino pulled Reiko by the hand to a side door at the end of the east corridor — the sealed wing, blocked off with rusted chain and a broken padlock.
"My grandfather left this in his journal," Kino whispered, holding up a small brass key. "He said if I ever heard 'the Eye whisper,' I should use this."
Reiko nodded, silent.
They entered the forbidden hall. It smelled of mold, chalk dust, and old blood.
Doors lined the corridor like coffins. Glass cracked like veins in their windows. They passed a faded sign:
Prayer Hall – Restricted
The hall beyond was a forgotten chapel — long wooden benches under crumbling stained glass. At the altar stood a cross… but the figure on it was not Christ.
It was a woman. Her head bowed. Her face hollowed by centuries.
Chains wrapped her wrists.
Reiko stepped forward, drawn by something — not curiosity, but recognition.
The statue's face looked like Miyako.
Kino stepped beside her, whispering, "The Vessel… It's always a woman. Chosen every generation. My grandfather said they carry the seal inside them — in their blood."
Reiko placed her hand on the statue's wrist.
The air shifted.
The ground cracked open.
Beneath the floorboards, a pit of darkness pulsed — and from its center rose a single, glowing red Eye, spinning in silence.
A whisper curled through the shadows:
"Return to me…"
Suddenly—
"What are you girls doing here?"
They turned.
A man stood at the chapel door — tall, dressed in dark grey slacks, his expression unreadable. His eyes were sharp, intense. But there was no anger in his voice.
Just familiarity.
"I'm Shin Kazumi, your new history teacher," he said with a cold smile. "Reiko Takahashi, I presume."
Reiko froze.
She'd seen his face before.
Not in life — but in her dream. Standing behind the Eye. Smiling. Waiting.
"Come with me," Shin said, turning.
Kino stepped between them. "She's not going anywhere with you."
But Reiko… she didn't move.
There was something about Shin Kazumi that pulled at her memory, like a song she couldn't place. A shadow from childhood. A flicker in her mother's voice when she once whispered, "Never trust the men with silver rings…"
On Shin's hand — was one.
---
That night, Reiko sat alone in bed.
A feather lay on her pillow.
The Eye whispered again in her sleep:
"Two keys remain…
One buried in blood.
One hidden in fire…"
And she saw Shin Kazumi, standing over her mother's body in the mirror.
Smiling.
---
To Be Continued.