The city was wrapped in silence when they got into the taxi. Kyoto, at that hour, felt like a different place—holding its breath, as though awaiting something about to unfold.Masahiro stared out the window, his tired eyes reflecting the glow of traffic lights, not a word spoken.His heart weighed heavy, submerged in blurred, distorted images.The mummified head in the subway car. Ryoka's unsettling smile. The photograph on the nightstand.The whisper behind the door.
"You okay?" Lisa's voice pulled him from the stream of thoughts.
Masahiro nodded slowly, without shifting his gaze. "Yeah… just a little tired."
Lisa leaned her head on his shoulder. "You were gone for ten hours. I was so worried."
Ten hours? Masahiro frowned.To him, it had all happened in minutes. He had taken the metro just before dawn… and now? The sky was fully lit.He remembered nothing after that sudden darkness in the train.
Then, as the taxi turned a corner, he saw something that made his blood run cold.On the second floor of a nearby building, a figure stood still at a window, wearing the same elegant suit, head bowed, hair falling forward.Ryoka.But it couldn't be. Ryoka was behind them now—miles away.
When the taxi stopped in front of the hotel, Masahiro hesitated before getting out.Lisa gave him a gentle look, unaware of the rising unease inside him."We're home," she whispered.Home. The word rang hollow. False. That place wasn't home. Nowhere was.
They entered the lobby. The receptionist looked up with a smile for Lisa, then turned to Masahiro.His smile faltered, as if he'd seen a ghost. He quickly shook his head, trying to mask the unsettling expression.
"Everything alright, sir?" he asked, uncertain.
Masahiro nodded and walked past.Cold sweat ran down his back, each step heavier than the last.They entered the elevator in silence. The lights flickered for a brief moment, but Lisa didn't seem to notice.Masahiro did.The floor display glitched, then stabilized.The elevator opened with a metallic groan, and they stepped out.A wave of dizziness hit Masahiro. For an instant, the hallway carpet seemed to stretch unnaturally long.The room doors were oddly placed, uneven—as though the building itself were shifting shape.
Lisa slid the key into the lock and opened the door."How about a hot bath, then we go down for breakfast? Something normal might help you settle."
Masahiro entered first.And in that moment, he knew something had changed.The curtains were drawn, just as they'd left them, but the window…no longer looked out over the city.
Beyond the glass, there was only fog—thick and milky, pressing up against the window, pulsing softly.
He stepped closer, laid his hand against the cold surface.Something moved within the fog.A shape. Motionless. Again.
Lisa sat on the bed, removing her shoes."Masu? Everything okay?"
Masahiro didn't answer.The figure in the mist shifted—and where a face should have been… the mummy again.
A chill ran through him.He stumbled back from the window.
"Masu, are you okay?""Yes, of course… I'm fine," he lied, with a strained smile."Come on, let's get ready or we'll be late for the appointment."
They spent the day buried in paperwork—documents left behind by his father.When they returned to the hotel, exhausted, they climbed into bed without a word.
"Goodnight, sweetheart," Masahiro whispered."Sleep well, Masu," Lisa replied gently.
But Masahiro didn't sleep a wink.
Something irrational pulled at him, drawing him back to the family house.He didn't even know why—just that something was calling him there, like an invisible force.
For the second time, he slipped out of the hotel room in the dead of night.This time, he took the car.
He drove without thinking—too fast, unsteady at the wheel.The tires slipped as he swerved dangerously, barely in control.Then, in a dark corner of the road, a figure stepped into view.
Too late.
He slammed the brakes, but the speed was too much.He swerved hard, trying to avoid the worst—but the figure was clipped.
He stopped abruptly.
"Oh no, no, no… oh no!"Masahiro clutched his head, panicked."Everything was going fine… I was almost there… I've killed someone! Oh no!"
He ran toward the man.
But as he reached him, the shadow rose to its feet.
Relief swept over Masahiro. He was alive.
"My God, sir, I'm so sorry… I don't know what came over me—are you alright? Are you hurt?"
A loud laugh shattered the silence.Masahiro froze.
The figure stepped out of the shadows.
"Kuni, relax, man! It's me—Ryoka!" He laughed again. "You should've seen your face!"
Masahiro let out a nervous chuckle."Christ, Ryoka… you nearly gave me a heart attack. What the hell are you doing here?"
"Just getting some air, my friend. And you?"
"I was just checking on the house, you know, just in case."
"I see," Ryoka said with that same unnatural smile."Enjoy your little trip, then," he grinned.
Ryoka was increasingly disturbing—but Masahiro decided to ignore it.He could see the house now, just ahead.And all he wanted was to get inside.
"Yeah… sure. Bye, Ryoka," Masahiro muttered, unnerved, and made his way to the family home, now only a few steps away.
He reached the front door and hurriedly shoved the keys into the lock.
Finally, he was home.