Darkness.
It wasn't the kind of dark that came from closed eyes or moonless nights. It was deeper. Hollow. Like the space between thoughts, between dreams—like falling into a memory you never made. It wasn't Tsukimidai ...from the previous place .. Reiko was in different place .
Reiko stood barefoot on damp stone, the world around her covered in a silvery mist. No trees. No stars. Just the endless echo of a distant melody.
A flute.
The notes were slow, sad, the kind of tune you might hear on a rainy festival night long forgotten by time. She turned toward the sound.
There—on a stone bench in the middle of the mist—sat a little girl.
She couldn't have been older than six. Her kimono was too big for her, sleeves dragging along the ground. Her hair was tied into two messy buns, and her bare feet swung just above the ground. In her hands: a bamboo flute, old and cracked but still singing.
Reiko stepped forward, heart pounding.
The girl lowered the flute. Her eyes—pale as frost—locked with Reiko's.
"You came," she whispered.
Reiko tried to speak but no sound left her mouth.
The girl tilted her head.
"Your dad died because of the locket."
Reiko froze.
"What…?"
"He traded your life for his. The locket took the blow. That's why your heart still beats."
The girl's words dropped like stones into the stillness.
Reiko clutched at her chest, remembering the warm glow, the way the locket had pulsed just before the tendrils had pierced her father's body. The pain. The blood. The moment the world shattered.
"Who… are you? Where .. is another girl ? " she asked, finally finding her voice.
The girl answer. " Shiki ... "
She smiled—softly, sorrowfully.
"You need to remember," she said, placing the flute beside her. "Who gave you the locket?"
Reiko's lips parted, but the name wouldn't come.
A fog pulled at her thoughts, thick and unnatural. Like someone had covered that memory with a shroud.
The girl reached forward, touching Reiko's hand.
"It's okay. You'll remember. You have to. Before the next night."
The mist began to curl tighter around them.
"I liked you, you know," the girl whispered.
Reiko's eyes widened.
The girl backed into the mist.
"Do you think we're friends?"
Reiko tried to follow, but the world spun.
Then—
She woke up.
Gasping.
Sweat soaked her hospital gown, and her heart thundered like a war drum. Her IV line yanked slightly as she sat up, and the monitor beside her beeped in protest.
She looked around. Same hospital room. Same clean smell of antiseptic and wilted flowers.
But something was different.
She felt… watched.
There was no one else in the room. Otaki must have stepped out.
Reiko touched the locket still hanging around her neck. It was cold now, lifeless. She held it in her hand and whispered, "Koroe…"
The name just felt right.
Koroe. That was the girl she always see . The one in the dream.
A place she barely remembered, a place her mother never spoke of.
"Who gave me this locket?" she murmured. "Was it… from back then?"
She threw off the sheets and slid out of bed. Her legs trembled but held. The hallway beyond was dimly lit, empty.
Footsteps echoed from down the corridor.
A man stepped into view.
Sharp silver hair. Frost-colored eyes.
Shin Kazumi.
Otaki trailed behind him, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.
"You shouldn't be out of bed," Otaki scolded.
"I need answers," Reiko said, voice hoarse. "And I'm not going to find them lying down."
Kazumi raised an eyebrow. "You're stronger than I expected."
She didn't respond. Her gaze was distant, haunted.
Kazumi noticed.
"You had a dream," he said.
Reiko's head snapped toward him.
"How do you—?"
"You'll learn, Reiko-chan," he said cryptically. "Those dreams aren't dreams at all. They're echoes. Whispers from the other side."
Otaki shot him a sharp glance. "She's still recovering. Don't start with that now."
Kazumi ignored her.
"You were called by someone, weren't you? A child. Someone connected to the locket."
Reiko clutched the pendant tighter. "Her name was Shiki."
Kazumi's expression darkened. "Then it's worse than I thought."
"What is?" Reiko asked.
But he didn't answer.
Instead, he turned and began walking down the hall.
"Come," he said. "There's something you need to see."
Despite Otaki's protests, Reiko followed.
The stairwell leading to the hospital's basement creaked under their weight. Cold air rushed upward, as if the lower floor had been sealed for centuries.
The moment Reiko stepped onto the last stair, a voice echoed from behind the walls.
It wasn't human.
It was like a dozen whispers tangled together, speaking from inside the bricks.
"Return what you stole…"
She froze.
Kazumi turned.
"I guess… you can hear them now," he said quietly.
Reiko backed against the wall, her breath trembling.
"What are they? Spirits?"
"No," he said. "Not exactly."
He placed a hand on the stone. "They're the remnants. Echoes left behind by broken rituals, cursed oaths, and forgotten names."
Otaki stepped beside her. "Hairama Hospital is built over one of the ritual sites from the old clans. It was shut down after the war. But they never cleansed it properly."
Kazumi looked over his shoulder.
"And the locket you wear—was part of the sealing ceremony that took place here in Hairama in Sakuma Residence forty years ago."
Reiko's blood ran cold.
"I don't understand…"
"You will," Kazumi said. "But we need to move quickly. There's something coming. Something that followed you from the forest."
Reiko turned toward the wall again.
"Do you think we're friends…?"
The voice was faint.
The same voice from her dream.
Shiki...
The stone behind her began to tremble, dust falling from the ceiling.
A symbol—faint and red—glowed through the surface.
Reiko raised a hand, drawn to it. The moment her fingers touched the mark, a rush of images flooded her mind.
A house on fire.
A girl screaming.
A man in a mask placing the locket on her neck.
And in the flames—Kasumi, smiling.
Her face still hidden.
Then—
Darkness.
She collapsed.
Somewhere ----
Koroe was sitting on the branch and then Shiki came from behind ...
" Is she the chosen one ? "
Koroe smile .....
" The time will reveal everything ... "
To be continued…