Camera hovered closer, eye adjusting to the age of the structure.
'Okay… man, this inn is so old.'
The wooden door slid open with a soft shhhk, revealing the soft glow of warm lighting and the gentle scent of tatami, old wood, and brewed tea.
Inside stood an elderly couple—both dressed in modest yukata. The man's silver hair was slicked back, his thin-framed glasses slipping slightly on his nose. The woman wore her gray hair in a bun, holding a folded towel in her hand as if she had just finished cleaning.
They both looked up, surprised by the sudden presence.
"Oh my… a guest?" the woman said softly, blinking in surprise.
The old man chuckled, placing a hand on the low wooden counter.
"Well, well… didn't expect anyone to walk in tonight."
TIS gave a polite nod.
"Sorry for coming so late. We're looking for a place to stay the night."
The old man's eyes lit up slightly, then he glanced at his wife with a smile. She gave him a small nod of encouragement.
He turned back to TIS.
"We still have rooms—plenty, in fact. Business's been slow these days, so…"
He paused, scratching his cheek.
"…How about this—if you help us clean up the dishes after dinner, we'll call it even."
TIS tilted his head slightly, glancing down at the small stack of coins and bills in his pocket.
He smiled gently.
"I appreciate that. Really. But I'd rather pay properly."
He placed the money on the counter, precise and neat.
The old couple exchanged a look. The old man chuckled again, this time softer.
"Alright, alright. Can't say no to a proper guest."
"Room 203," the woman added, warmth in her voice. "Up the stairs, second on the right."
"Please rest well," the old man said, bowing lightly.
TIS returned the bow and turned toward the stairs. The soft wooden steps creaked beneath his feet as he ascended.
Camera floated beside him silently.
'They liked you.'
"I liked them too."
'You could've just washed a few bowls.'
"I'd rather leave support than favors."
Camera made a small buzzing noise—maybe laughter, maybe processing.
'Weird human logic.'
"I know."
The second floor hallway stretched ahead, quiet and warm.
And behind them, the couple stood behind the counter—smiling, whispering to each other. Their inn, after all this time, felt alive again.
Room 203 welcomed them with a soft creak of the sliding door. The room was simple—wooden floors, tatami mats, a low table, and a small futon folded in the corner. The faint scent of wood and aged fabric filled the air, nostalgic in a way only old places could be.
"Felt alive again... your description is funny, Camera," TIS muttered as he stepped inside. He stretched his arms and looked around. "This inn will be truly alive if there are a lot of people—specifically people that couple knows."
Camera hovered quietly near the ceiling, slowly lowering himself to get a better look at the room.
'Hahah, yeah…'
Then a soft beep sounded from his internal clock system.
'Anyhow… clock's on 09:00 P.M. You haven't prayed, right?'
TIS nodded. "Thanks for the reminder," he said, kneeling near the corner of the room. "I'm gonna put my scimitar first."
With a smooth motion, he unslung a large, curved scimitar from behind his back—previously hidden in that strange, unexplained space that characters like him always seem to have. He placed it carefully near his belongings.
Camera floated to the corner, beginning to tidy up a bit.
'I'm gonna clean the place, I guess… should we just head straight to sleep?'
TIS looked over his shoulder, raising a brow.
"Bro… if we do that, we'll get a cold soup."
Camera hovered midair, pausing.
'Aww… I can't even eat…'
TIS grinned. "But you do have a mouth, right?"
Camera let out a synthetic sigh.
'Yeahh… don't tell me you want me to show myself to them?'
TIS casually grabbed a towel and started hanging his damp clothes over the wooden rack.
"Eyy… it won't trigger anything. Besides, you're always the introverted one." He smirked. "Just show them your real form and I'll handle the rest. They're a kind old couple—they'll think you're cute."
A long pause.
Camera gave the longest, most reluctant-sounding digital groan in history.
'Groaaaannnnn…'
Steam rolled out softly as the bathroom door slid open. TIS stepped out, towel over his head, drying his hair casually. His movements were relaxed, his expression calm.
He reached into an inner pocket of his jacket—one of many—and pulled out a neatly folded set of clothes. A light t-shirt and a pair of soft lounge pants, both simple but clean.
"Good thing I brought a spare," he muttered, slipping them on.
Camera floated lazily in the corner, slowly turning mid-air with a barely audible drone-like hum.
'You done?'
"Yeah. That felt nice. The hot water's got this… nostalgic feel to it."
TIS sat down on the tatami for a moment, stretching his arms. Through the paper screen window, he could hear the distant clinking of tableware. The dining room downstairs was still alive with small sounds.
"You know," he added, "if we went downstairs still smelling like rooftop dust, they'd probably think we climbed out of a dumpster."
Camera rotated slowly.
'You ready for this?'
TIS tilted his head, smiling slightly.
"What, dinner?"
'No. Me. Showing up. Being visible. Evaluated. Judged. Called "cute."'
TIS stood, giving a dramatic shrug.
"If they say you're cute, take it as a win. I mean… you kinda are."
'Wow. Touching.'
TIS walked to the door, sliding it open slowly.
"Let's go. If we're late, the soup's going to be cold. And you know my policy."
Camera sighed.
'..."No cold soup."'
"Exactly."
With a soft ripple of light, Camera began shifting—his body coalescing into a visible form. Humanoid, tall but lean, with a matte, sleek surface and glowing blue eyes shaped like lenses. He had no mouth, no face—just a minimalist design that balanced between charming and uncanny.
TIS glanced over and smirked.
"Looking good, Mr. Cute."
'This is a mistake.'
As they stepped out into the hallway, the wooden floor creaked softly beneath TIS's feet. The glow from the hanging lanterns above cast gentle shadows along the narrow path to the dining area.
Camera floated beside him, visible now—his form stable, his glow dimmed to avoid drawing too much attention… at least for now.
TIS glanced at him with a grin.
"You're the one that said you're cute."
Camera turned slightly away, his lens narrowing with disdain.
'Frickin gaslighter.'
They reached the bottom of the stairs, the scent of hot soup and grilled vegetables already creeping through the old wooden walls. The dining room was lit warmly, with a low table set neatly for two—well, now three.
The elderly couple was busy arranging the dishes—simple, homemade, and heartfelt. The woman carried a small teapot in one hand, while the man arranged bowls with practiced care.
TIS approached with a relaxed smile.
"Need a hand, Grandma?"
The woman looked up, slightly startled, then waved her hand quickly.
"Oh, please… you're a guest! You don't need to do that."
Her husband laughed, his voice warm and a little rough from age.
"HAHAHAHA, you're a funny one, kid. Come sit down."
TIS gave a small nod and walked to the table, sliding onto the cushion with casual grace.
Then—
The couple noticed the figure that followed him.
Camera entered the room in silence, his tall, sleek form stopping just a few feet behind TIS. The room dimmed slightly—not from power, but from presence. His body shimmered faintly with internal light, his glowing lens-like eyes quietly scanning the space.
For a moment, neither elder spoke.
The old man blinked.
The old woman tilted her head.
And then—
"…Ohhh," the woman said, her voice soft with awe. "He's with you?"
TIS smiled, unfazed.
"Yep. Don't worry, he's a little shy, but he's kind."
The old man chuckled, squinting a bit. "He looks like one of those spirits from the old cartoons. Just taller. And glowy."
Camera remained perfectly still, unsure how to respond.
'They're not screaming. That's good.'
"See? Told you they'd think you're cute."
The old woman leaned in, hands clasped.
"Well, I think he's adorable."
'Groan…'
The old man poured warm tea into the cups while his wife ladled soup into bowls. The aroma filled the room—light miso, rice, a few pickled vegetables, and grilled fish. Simple, honest food.
TIS bowed politely before taking the first sip. "Mmm… this is really good."
"Oh, it's nothing special," the woman replied, flustered but smiling wide. "Just what we usually eat. But it's nice to have someone to cook for again."
Camera sat silently beside him. He didn't eat, obviously, but his glowing eyes flicked gently between the food, the room, and the old couple—recording, as always.
"So," the old man began, resting his arms on the table, "what's your name, son?"
TIS looked up, spoon in hand. "TIS. And this is Camera."
Camera gave a slight nod, glowing eyes dimming politely. 'Hello.'
The woman tilted her head. "Camera? That's… different."
"Fitting though," TIS said with a shrug, "once you get to know him."
The couple chuckled lightly.
"And where are you two from?" the man continued, pouring a bit more tea into his wife's cup.
TIS leaned back a bit. "A small village. Doesn't really have a name."
The woman blinked. "Really?"
"Yep. Just forest, dirt road, and seven houses. That's it."
Camera added quietly, 'Population: us.'
The couple smiled again—confused, but entertained.
"And what do you two do for work?"
Camera responded first. 'We do odd jobs.'
TIS grinned. "Joblist extends from helping people fix their chimney… to saving the world."
The old man choked a little on his tea, laughing. "That's quite the range!"
"Yeah well, demand fluctuates."
"And what brings you here?" the woman asked next, placing her hands neatly in her lap.
TIS looked at his bowl. "Didn't have enough money."
Camera echoed, deadpan: 'Didn't have enough money.'
TIS added, with a small smile, "And feeling very nostalgic."
The old couple exchanged a glance.
"Well," the man said warmly, "I think the world still has places that feel like home. Even when they aren't."
TIS nodded, lifting his cup in a small gesture of gratitude.
"Couldn't agree more."
--After eating—
The bowls were empty, the tea had gone lukewarm, and the old couple had already said their goodnights, retreating to the back room with soft footsteps and quiet smiles.
TIS slid the door to Room 203 open again and stepped inside. The air was still, carrying the faint scent of the wooden floor, soap from earlier, and warmth from dinner.
Camera hovered in behind him, back to silent mode, his glow now dimmed to a low, soft pulse.
TIS stretched, cracked his neck once, then knelt to lay out the futon. His movements were practiced, unhurried.
"You're not gonna hover all night, right?"
'Technically I don't sleep. I go into recording standby mode.'
TIS chuckled as he pulled the blanket over the futon.
"Sounds like sleeping to me."
He sat down, then leaned back slowly until his head met the pillow.
"I like this place."
Camera drifted toward the ceiling, taking his usual corner.
'Yeah. It's quiet. Real quiet.'
The lights were off now, save for the glow from the paper window panels and the moonlight spilling in thin lines across the floor.
"You're gonna wake me if anything happens, right?"
'Always.'
TIS closed his eyes.
"Thanks, Camera."
'Night, TIS.'
Silence returned.
---Next morning---
The quiet hum of night wrapped around Room 203 like a soft blanket. Outside, the cicadas had gone quiet, replaced by the occasional creak of wooden beams settling, the distant whir of an electric pole humming in low rhythm.
Inside, the room was still.
Then, movement.
TIS stirred gently beneath the blanket. His eyes opened slowly, steady. No confusion. No rush. Just awareness.
He sat up, taking a moment to breathe before rising to his feet with practiced quiet. The floor was cool against his soles.
From the shadowed corner near the ceiling, Camera stirred.
His glow brightened slightly.
'...TIS?'
TIS glanced over, pulling his towel over one shoulder, quiet as ever.
"Pray."
A simple word.
No explanation needed.
Camera dimmed again.
'Got it.'
TIS stepped out, sliding the door closed behind him with barely a sound. The hallway was dark, but moonlight painted lines across the tatami.
No one else was awake.
And that was okay.
The morning light slipped softly through the paper windows of Room 203, painting faint golden lines across the tatami floor. A breeze passed gently through the slightly open window, carrying the faint smell of miso and grilled rice.
TIS sat up slowly, blinking at the light. His body moved with the ease of someone who always woke early, even without alarms. A soft yawn escaped him as he stretched his arms up, the blanket pooling around his waist.
Camera floated quietly in the corner, already awake—as always.
'You slept well.'
TIS ran a hand through his hair and nodded.
"Yeah. It's been a while since I had this kind of quiet."
He stood, adjusted his clothes, and walked to the low table where his scimitar still rested beside his folded towel.
Downstairs, the clink of bowls and soft laughter drifted upward.
'They're preparing breakfast.'
"Let's not make them wait."
Camera drifted beside him, now fully visible again, though with a more toned-down glow.
They stepped out into the hallway, the polished wood warm underfoot. As they descended the stairs, the scent of freshly cooked rice and warm tea grew stronger.
In the dining room, the elderly couple was already waiting.
"Good morning!" the woman greeted, her eyes crinkling as she smiled. "I hope you slept well?"
TIS bowed lightly.
"Very well, thank you. The room was perfect."
The old man waved them over cheerfully.
"Come, come! Breakfast is ready. You'll need energy if you're going to be wandering the city again, huh?"
TIS smiled and took a seat, nodding.
"Exactly."
Camera hovered nearby, quiet as usual.
The old woman looked at him again, still slightly fascinated.
"Will your friend be joining you at the table again?"
TIS glanced up with a smirk.
"He's already here."
Camera gave a small tilt of the head.
'Present.'
The couple laughed softly, and the food was served.
TIS lifted his tea slowly, his voice calm but curious.
"This 'Knights' you're saying… they're humans that have awakened their powers?"
The old man nodded firmly.
"Correct. It started small at first—just strength, speed… but eventually, it became more than that. Some could control light. Some water. Some shadow."
He glanced at his wife, who gave a small nod, continuing for him.
"Even more complex things like… gravity. Or memory."
TIS set his cup down gently, eyes narrowed just a touch.
"Memory?"
The man hesitated.
"…And time."
Camera, still hovering, tilted slightly.
'Time?'
The old man raised a finger. "But that one… is only a rumor."
His voice softened, like someone remembering an old bedtime story they were never supposed to hear.
"They said… only one person ever awakened time."
"But no one ever saw it."
TIS leaned back slightly, taking it in. "I see…"
A quiet settled back into the room.
The warmth of breakfast remained. The smiles stayed. But something deeper had entered the table now—a truth buried under ten years of silence and simplicity.
And TIS?
He was starting to suspect this wasn't just a story world with a clean romance plot and an isekai twist.
Something old had happened here.
And something older might still be lingering.
After a somewhat long pause—filled only with the quiet sipping of tea and a few distant bird calls outside the window—TIS glanced up.
"Oh, would you look at the time," he said, standing slowly. "I think we need to take our leave for today..."
The old man waved a hand playfully.
"Oh hahaha, fine, fine… You can come back anytime you'd like. It's nice to have company again."
TIS smiled and pulled a folded bill from his pocket, placing it neatly on the table.
"Thanks, Grandpa. We do want to stay though," he added, sliding the money over. "So here's another night."
The old woman blinked, eyes wide.
"Oh my… husband… isn't this a bit too much?"
The man picked up the money, raising an eyebrow.
"Son, how long are you planning to stay?"
TIS looked over at Camera.
"About how long, Camera?"
Camera floated slightly higher, as if calculating in his invisible HUD.
'About a month, maybe…'
TIS turned back.
"A month."
The old man's eyebrows lifted slightly—but then he smiled.
"Oh, I see… well then I think this will be a great thing for us, honey."
His wife nodded, hands together, her eyes glowing with a quiet happiness.
"Hahaha yes indeed."
As TIS adjusted his sleeves and prepared to head out, the old man leaned forward with a grin.
"After both of you finish your business today, come back—I'll take you to a fishing spot."
TIS gave him a thumbs up.
"Sure, Grandpa. WE LOVE FISHING."
Camera's voice came dry, almost automatic.
'Last time, TIS was so ambitious he jumped in the water.'
TIS pointed at himself with full confidence.
"Body fishing."
The room echoed with laughter.
"HAHAHAHAHA!"
The sun was already high, casting soft light over the quiet streets as TIS and Camera made their way toward the apartment building. Their footsteps echoed lightly on the pavement, the occasional breeze rustling the trees along the sidewalk.
"It's Sunday," TIS said, hands in his pockets. "Is Mizuhara still in her room?"
Camera hovered beside him, visibly phased-in but flickering gently to avoid detection.
'Yup… all depressed.'
TIS glanced toward the top floor window, then sighed.
"Aww… poor girl."
They walked a bit further in silence before TIS asked,
"Anyhow… Camera, what do you think of that old couple?"
Camera hummed lightly.
'Kind. But also... I just realized—when Grandpa explained the tragedy from 10 years ago, I tried to look up that incident on the Route… and I did find it. So it's lore-accurate.'
He paused.
'But it leaves me questioning… why does isekai exist here if the core system is about Knights, not Hunters?'
TIS smirked slightly.
"Probably the thinker—my kind—wanted to create something new."
'Possibly… But the bad thing is… we still don't have any clue about the Hidden Route. That tragedy is present in the Route. It's not hidden.'
TIS nodded, unfazed.
"Don't worry. I realized something."
He looked ahead, eyes narrowing slightly as he recalled.
"Remember when Grandpa mentioned that time is one of the Knights' powers?"
'Yeah. What about it?'
TIS grinned.
"Guess who has that power?"
Camera hovered slightly closer, cautious.
'Grandpa himself???'
"Exactly," TIS said, with that spark of "I figured it out" in his voice.
"Which is why I asked YOU to show yourself. Grandpa can control time—but only on the level of timeline. Not like… conditional timeline manipulation. Not like Pu***."
Camera let out a faint static laugh.
'Okay… go on.'
TIS raised a finger.
"When he saw you, he didn't really act surprised. More than that… he tried to use his power. But since we exist outside this story—nothing happened. We didn't feel a thing."
Camera stopped floating midair.
'...No wonder I felt a timeline hiccup earlier. I thought the main character finally got isekai'd.'
TIS laughed. "Hahahah."
Camera dimmed slightly.
'But wait… does that mean he's the Hidden Route?'
TIS shook his head. "Nope. Obviously not. His story exists in the Route. But—because he can control a person's timeflow, that makes him a potential trigger. If it slips out of control…"
'...It could activate the Hidden Route.'
TIS nodded.
Camera was quiet for a moment.
'But… will he be suspicious of us?'
TIS smiled knowingly. "Nope. Definitely not."
He took a deep breath before dropping the next line casually:
"Remember when I woke up last night? I met him—after I was done praying on the rooftop."
Camera floated a bit closer.
'...Why do you pray on the rooftop?'
TIS ignored that and kept going.
"We had a little chitchat. I told him that we have the ability to be immune to supernatural powers—shown by how some guy tried to harm us but failed. I acted like a reckless youngster trying to save the world—even though we are."
Camera blinked his lens slowly.
'And then?'
"And I ended the conversation by saying we're just trying to help people in need."
A pause.
Camera deadpanned: 'Isn't that lying though?'
TIS grinned as he looked up at the apartment building, rays of sunlight cutting across the windows.
"Not really, right?"
Camera groaned softly.
'Hahaha… neat.'
The automatic doors slid open with a soft shhhk as TIS stepped into the modest lobby of Azami Heights. The lighting was warm but a little dim, and the faint scent of cleaning solution still lingered from the morning routine.
Camera floated in behind him—completely invisible, as always in narrative zones where detection risk existed.
Behind the counter sat a middle-aged receptionist with neatly tied hair and small glasses perched on her nose. She looked up from her tablet as TIS approached.
"Can I help you?"
TIS smiled politely.
"Yes. We're here to meet someone—Mizuhara. Third floor, I believe."
The woman tapped a few times on her screen.
"Mizuhara… Room 305," she confirmed. "She hasn't had visitors in a while."
TIS gave a light nod.
"Understood. We'll be respectful."
He turned and walked toward the elevator.
As the elevator doors opened, a familiar voice whispered beside him—quiet, out of earshot for anyone else.
'Receptionist didn't see me. Back to safe protocol.'
TIS smirked slightly.
"Good. Let's keep it that way."
The elevator doors slid shut.
The elevator rose with a soft hum, its old motor vibrating just enough to remind them this place had been around for a while. The numbers above the door ticked upward slowly:
1… 2… 3.
With a dull ding, the elevator stopped.
The doors slid open, revealing a quiet hallway bathed in morning light filtering through a small window at the far end. The walls were cream-colored, slightly faded. The floor was lined with clean but worn carpet tiles. A soft scent of detergent lingered.
No one else was around.
No sounds. No footsteps. Just silence.
TIS stepped out first, his eyes scanning the hallway. He adjusted his jacket slightly, his pace calm but deliberate.
Camera's voice came through quietly, from beside him—still completely invisible to the world.
'Floor's empty. No movement. No narrative tension.'
TIS glanced at the door signs as he walked.
"Room 305… left side, right?"
'Correct. Fourth door down.'
Their footsteps were soft on the carpet, blending into the stillness.
Each door they passed told small stories—one had a potted plant beside it, another had children's shoes neatly lined up. But 305 had nothing.
Just a door.
Closed. Still.
Neutral.
They stopped in front of it.
TIS looked at the number plaque, then rested his hand lightly against the wood.
Camera whispered,
'She's still inside. She hasn't moved since earlier.'
TIS nodded, eyes steady.
"Let's be gentle."
And then, slowly—he raised his hand.
And knocked.
They stood in front of Room 305. The hallway still hadn't changed—no footsteps, no distant chatter. Just quiet morning air and the distant hum of the elevator far behind them.
TIS stared at the door for a moment longer, then tilted his head.
"Camera… when you knocked, should it always be from the top of the door?"
Camera's voice came sharp and fast, almost betrayed by how done he was.
'What are you questioning at a time like this??'
TIS grinned.
"Alright, let's go."
And with that, he leaned down slightly…
…and knocked softly—on the base of the door.
Camera fell into complete silence.
'...'
The sound was dull, muted against the wood. Not loud enough to alarm. Not sharp enough to surprise.
But after a second… they heard it.
A small, quiet movement from inside.
A shift in air.
Then, a pause.
No reply yet.
Camera finally spoke again.
'You're impossible.'
TIS stood straight, folding his arms and casually leaning back.
"But hey, it worked."
The soft shuffling inside had been just barely audible—but something about it felt… wrong.
Too rhythmic.
Too strained.
TIS's eyes widened.
"She tried to hang herself!"
Without a second thought, he slammed his shoulder into the door.
THUD.
'I'll go directly in,' Camera said, his voice sharp for once—then vanished through the wall without hesitation.
Inside the room, dim light spilled across the floor from the half-drawn curtains. And there she was.
Mizuhara.
Standing on a chair, rope in hand, eyes distant. Not crying. Not shouting. Just… gone.
Camera's voice pinged into TIS's head.
'Confirmed. She's—TIS, NOW.'
CRAAAACKKKK—!!!
The door broke down in a single hit, splinters flying.
TIS rushed forward, faster than a thought, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her down just as her foot slipped.
The chair fell with a harsh clatter.
The rope tugged—then snapped against the tension.
TIS hit the floor with her in his arms, breathing hard. Mizuhara gasped, dazed, confused—barely conscious of what just happened.
Her eyes widened slightly.
Mizuhara trembled slightly in TIS's arms, her breath unsteady—short, panicked gasps that hitched at the top of her throat. Her hands clutched his sleeves like she wasn't sure if the floor beneath her was real.
TIS lowered her gently onto the tatami mat, keeping one hand on her shoulder, steady but not forceful.
"You're okay," he said softly. "You're back. That's what matters."
Camera hovered silently just above them, his glow now reduced to a low pulse—like holding his breath.
'She's stabilizing. Mentally disoriented, but aware. Heart rate dropping.'
Mizuhara blinked slowly, her eyes glassy. Her lips parted, like she wanted to speak—but nothing came out. Just a soft inhale… and then tears.
Quiet. Not dramatic.
Like something just gave up trying to hold itself together.
TIS didn't say anything else. He let her cry. Let the silence return. Not heavy, not awkward—just space. Space to feel.
Minutes passed.
Camera hovered near the window, watching the city outside.
'We need to ask her questions… eventually.'
TIS nodded once, his eyes still on Mizuhara.
"Eventually."
She was calming now. Her breathing steadied. Her hands loosened from his sleeves.
And finally—her voice, hoarse, barely a whisper:
"...who… are you?"
TIS met her gaze, calm and gentle.
"TIS. A cleaning service."
He gestured slightly toward the air beside him.
"And that's Camera."
'Hello.'
Mizuhara's eyes darted to the empty space, confused. "Camera…? Where…?" (Obviously only TIS can see camera, unless camera shows himself)
"You okay?" TIS asked with a faint, grounding smile.
She looked away. "…You don't even know me."
"No," TIS said, "but I heard you crying."
Her eyes widened slightly.
After a while, Mizuhara slowly pushed herself upright. TIS leaned back, giving her space, respectful and quiet.
"Just finished my shift and heard noises from your room," TIS added casually. "I know that kind of rustle. Sorry for breaking in…" TIS explained telling a lie… THIS MF straight up spout a lie loll
Behind his back, he held up a subtle middle finger toward Camera.
Camera snorted.
'LOLLL.'
But then—Mizuhara turned. Something sharp in her eyes, like remembering something.
"You…" she said, voice low.
Then louder. "YOUUUU!!!"
Camera's glow brightened. 'What?'
"Girl? What's wrong?"
Her voice cracked, filled with rage.
"BECAUSE OF UGLY BASTARDS LIKE YOU—MY LIFE—!!!"
She bolted toward the kitchen.
TIS moved fast.
"hey, wait—!"
But she was quicker—grabbing a kitchen knife, eyes wild.
'TIS—watch out!'
She lunged.
TIS dodged fluidly, the blade slicing air.
He stepped in—not with aggression, but precision—catching her wrist in mid-swing, twisting it just enough to make her drop the knife, then locking her arm gently behind her with practiced care.
She struggled, panting.
TIS didn't flinch.
"Calm down."
He didn't tighten his grip—just held her, like a wall holding back a collapsing ceiling.
Camera hovered near the door, Screen focused.
Mizuhara thrashed once more, but her strength was spent — it wasn't real aggression, only the desperate flailing of a drowning heart. TIS stayed still. He let her panic crash against him like waves against a stone wall — unshaken, unyielding.
With a low, steady voice, TIS spoke.
"You're safe," he said, almost a whisper. "No one's here to hurt you."
Mizuhara bit her lower lip, trembling all over. Her breathing came in short, broken bursts, as if she had just run from a nightmare.
Slowly, TIS loosened his hold — but he stayed close, in a stance that was ready, protective, never threatening.
He gently guided her toward the nearby sofa.
As he released her wrist, TIS kept speaking — his voice a calm, constant rhythm.
"Let's breathe together. Look at me," he said softly, leaning forward slightly to meet her line of sight.
Camera hovered silently by the door, recording every moment without daring to interrupt.
TIS lifted one hand slowly, making a guiding motion.
"Follow my hand. Inhale..." He drew a long, deep breath, slow and deliberate.
Mizuhara's tearful eyes locked onto him, her body still trembling — but instinctively, she followed. "...and exhale." TIS breathed out gently, as if blowing away the storm in the room.
Mizuhara tried to mimic him — her breath hitched at first, shaky and uneven, but it started to come easier.
"Good," TIS said, voice still even, a soft warmth beneath the steadiness.
"You don't have to fight anything now. All your anger... all your fear... you can let them go here. You're safe."
Mizuhara closed her eyes. Her shoulders sagged a little, her breath growing steadier, though an occasional sob still escaped.
TIS sat down on the floor across from her, keeping a respectful distance, his hands resting openly on his knees — a clear signal: no threat, no force.
'You're doing good, TIS,' Camera whispered from across the room.
For a while, no one spoke. Only the ticking of a wall clock filled the quiet, and the sound of Mizuhara's breath, slowly finding its rhythm again.
Mizuhara sat slumped on the sofa, hands gripping the edge of the cushion as if the world might tilt beneath her.
Her eyes were wide, unfocused — staring at nothing, lost somewhere deep inside.
TIS remained seated on the floor across from her.
He didn't rush her. No words. No sudden movements. Only quiet presence.
The faint hum of the air conditioner filled the room. Camera dimmed its glow instinctively, casting a soft, nonintrusive light.
Mizuhara's breathing was still ragged, though slower now.
Every few seconds, her shoulders would twitch — small, involuntary jolts like echoes of the panic still rattling inside her.
TIS watched her closely, but not with the eyes of a soldier or a hunter.
It was the gaze of someone who understood — that after the storm, you don't rebuild right away. You wait. You breathe.
He leaned back slightly, creating even more space between them, subtly giving her control over the moment.
Minutes passed.
Mizuhara lifted one trembling hand to her face, wiping at her eyes clumsily.