The door closed behind him with a soft click.
Yuta descended the two steps from the entrance and stepped onto the sidewalk, his shoulders more relaxed. The night was cold but clear. A light breeze carried the scent of dry leaves, old wood, and tea gone cold.
Megumi followed him to the gate. Her steps were short, almost silent. She stopped beside him under the streetlight.
The bulb bathed them in a pale, steady glow. They stood there for a few seconds, saying nothing.
Yuta kept his gaze forward. Megumi alternated between looking at him and the ground.
"Thank you."
Her voice was low. Almost shy.
"For everything."
He just nodded. Didn't say it was his duty. Didn't say it was nothing.
Megumi took a deep breath. Her hand trembled slightly, but she extended it slowly. Touched his arm lightly. Not with force. Just to signal presence.
"I know you don't do this for reward. But…"
Yuta turned his head. Met her eyes for a moment.
She rose on her toes and pressed her lips to his face, between his cheek and jaw. A quick kiss. Silent. No drama.
When she stepped back, her gaze was steady. Unwavering.
"Good night, Yuta."
He didn't respond right away. Just turned back to the street.
"Your grandfather… rested in peace."
She nodded. Said nothing more.
Yuta started walking. His body slightly forward, hands in his pockets. He didn't look back.
Megumi stayed there, in the streetlight's shadow, watching until he turned the corner.
The street's silence was absolute.
The street was silent.
Half a block away, Yuta stopped by a low fence. Leaned his shoulders against it for a second.
He breathed deeply.
And then thought:
'System.'
The screen appeared before his eyes like a translucent holographic projection, floating in the air. Bluish. Crisp. Invisible to anyone else.
---
[JJK System Panel]
---
[Current User Status]
Name: Yuta Okkotsu
Level: 1
Experience: 15/100
Cursed Energy: 25% (Low)
Vitality: 100/100
Mental State: Stable
---
[Registered Reward]
+15% Experience Accumulated
Reason: Extermination of hostile spirit (fragmented spiritual class – moderate risk)
---
[Active Missions]: None
[Spiritual Alerts]: None
---
Yuta stared at the screen for a few seconds.
'It was a ghost. Not a curse. And that's not what the System usually tracks.'
He closed the panel mentally. The interface faded in a faint glow that dissolved into the air.
The wind blew harder. Short, cold, silent gusts.
Yuta lifted his eyes to the sky.
No moon. Just the faint glow of stars dulled by the city.
He resumed walking.
Alone.
Steady steps between the bands of light and shadow cast by the streetlights.
His face serious. His gaze ahead.
And a faint—almost imperceptible—sense that this night had closed only a small cycle.
The real weight was yet to come.
___
Aika fidgeted with her fingers over the blanket, matching the rhythm of her breathing. Her eyes open. Pupils slightly dilated. The lampshade's light cast a warm circle on the wall, but it didn't warm her inside.
It was 2:43 a.m.
She hadn't slept. Not for five minutes.
Her phone buzzed occasionally—useless notifications, promotions, random videos. Nothing that mattered.
Nothing like what she'd seen.
The image was still vivid. Burned like a scar in the back of her mind. That thing's body… black, thick scales covered in pulsing eyes. Each breath of the monster made the ground tremble. And the sound… not a roar. Choked hunger.
She squeezed her eyes shut. The image grew sharper.
Aika rolled onto her side. Stared at the wall. Breathed deeply.
'He saved me.'
The memory wouldn't leave. The sound of his steps from behind. His voice. The way he wrapped his arms around her and ran. No hesitation. Only decision.
Yuta.
Aika grabbed her phone. The screen lit up, cold. Toknet still showed their last conversation.
She stared for a few seconds.
Then typed slowly.
Toknet – Aika Kiriyuu:
"Good night. Thank you for saving me."
No emoji. No asking if he was awake.
Just sent.
She stared at the screen as if a reply might appear in the next few seconds. But nothing came.
She set the phone beside her pillow.
Turned her back to the door. Hugged the pillow tighter.
'It doesn't matter if he answers now.'
She closed her eyes tightly. But his face was still there. The calm expression. The direct gaze. The silence that said more than any rehearsed line.
'He showed up. When no one else did.'
And then, she whispered to herself, almost soundless:
"He saved me. And that's what matters."
___
The cursor blinked at the screen's center. The monitor's bluish light made Tomoya's face even paler. His eyes were open, fixed, but not seeing the screen. Seeing through it.
The text was complete. Another of Utaha's scripts rewritten, improved, aligned with the vision Tomoya believed was true.
The perfect vision.
He typed the final line: "If you stay, I'll write the ending you deserve."
Closed the file. Saved.
The blue USB drive was already connected. He copied the document and renamed it with Utaha's original title. It wouldn't raise suspicion. Just another file among many.
But this one was different.
This was the key.
If she knew how much better this text was—deeper, more cohesive—she'd understand. And if she learned he was the one behind the improvements… she wouldn't be able to refuse.
She'd trust him.
She'd follow him.
He grabbed his phone. Opened Toknet.
Tomoya Aki: "There's something you need to read. It's not just a revision. It's a revelation. Can I give it to you tomorrow?"
Message sent. Seen. No reply.
Yet.
On the desk's corner, a photo leaned between two books: Megumi Katō under a cherry tree, eyes downcast, shadow on her face, like a character on pause.
The perfect protagonist.
Tomoya reached out and adjusted the frame. The screen's light reflected off it.
Eriri would handle the art. Utaha the text. He'd do the rest.
And Megumi would be the essence.
The perfect game. The perfect cast.
The idea was no longer a dream. It was a plan.
And he was the only one capable of pulling it off.
He looked at his reflection in the screen. His eyes were dark, sunken, but alive.
He smiled, small.
"She's my protagonist. Only mine."
In the stuffy room, the fan spun at a steady rhythm.
But for a moment… the sound broke.
A faint hiss, like an electrical distortion, crackled between the blades and died too quickly to be noticed.
The cursor blinked one last time before the screen went dark from inactivity.
Tomoya didn't see.
Didn't see the shadow that slid across the corner of the powered-off monitor, like an image not yet part of reality. A crack. A thin black wisp stretching out from the reflection.
Didn't see the dark spot behind him.
Small.
Vibrant.
Almost imperceptible.
But alive.
Something answered that obsession.
Not a curse yet.
Not a named spirit.
Just the first breath.
Weak.
Insignificant.
But real.
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