Reiko stirred.
A warm cloth lay across her forehead. Someone had laid her gently on a tatami mat, the scent of sandalwood and old paper surrounding her. Her eyelids fluttered open to reveal a high ceiling supported by wooden beams, lacquered black with age. Sliding paper doors stood ajar, letting in faint moonlight.
She wasn't in the hospital anymore.
She sat up too quickly—her head swam.
"Where...?"
A rustle of footsteps came from the corridor. A man's voice echoed loud and low, aged yet powerful.
"Saika-san, please bring her in. The Master awaits."
The doors slid open, revealing a tall man dressed in deep navy robes. His eyes were sharp beneath rectangular glasses, his silver hair tied into a neat knot behind his head. He had the solemn air of someone who carried generations of secrets.
It was Saika ..
Reiko blinked.
"Reiko -sama, I am glad you are well . "
" I am also glad you came , Saika -san "
" But ... Tatsuya -san
Reiko's eyes became sad ....
" If I had force him to come here , he would still be alive . "
" Don't feel bad ... Saika -san .... It is fine .... And my father always says I am strong like my mother ... "
"Indeed," he replied. "And the master of this house—Keisuke Sakuma—wishes to speak with you."
Reiko's throat tightened at the name. Her heartbeat faltered. That was her mother's surname. One her mother had never spoken of.
Saika led her down an ancient corridor lit by faint lanterns, the walls lined with scrolls and faded photographs. The house groaned with age beneath her feet.
Finally, they stopped at a grand wooden door carved with symbols—phoenixes, cranes, and the Kanji for memory and regret.
Saika opened it.
Inside, seated on a tatami mat before a small altar, was an old man in a black kimono. His posture was stiff, hands folded. Silver strands of hair spilled from a loose topknot, and his eyes—though dulled with time—held the storm of a thousand unshed tears.
"Keisuke-sama," Saika announced. "She is here."
The old man looked up.
The moment his gaze met Reiko's, he trembled.
"Miyako…" he whispered, voice breaking.
"I'm not—" Reiko began.
"I know," he said, bowing his head. "You're her daughter. I… I can see it in your eyes."
Reiko stepped inside.
Keisuke rose shakily to his knees, walked over, and dropped before her with a thud.
He bowed deeply, his forehead to the floor.
"I failed her," he said, voice choking. "Your mother… Miyako… I let her leave. I let her carry that cursed blood alone. I never told her how much I—"
He broke into sobs.
Reiko stood frozen.
"I thought," he continued, "if I severed her from this place, she'd be safe. But she took the burden anyway. She protected you."
Reiko's hands trembled. "Why didn't she tell me any of this?"
"Because she loved you too much to let you near this place," he whispered. "This house… this name… it's not a legacy. It's a prison. And now… it's calling you."
He reached forward, gently clutching her hand with both of his.
"Please, Reiko-chan," he begged, eyes red. "Don't leave. Stay here. Let me protect you this time. Let me—at least once—do right by my family."
Reiko didn't pull away.
But she didn't answer either.
Her heart was a whirlwind. Her mother had walked away from this house, from this man. From whatever this "curse" was. But something had drawn her back—something more ancient than blood.
That night, after dinner, Reiko was given a guest room upstairs.
She couldn't sleep.
The old house creaked with every breeze. The shadows stretched too long. Her locket, though cold, felt heavy. The dream still pulsed in her mind—Shiki's whisper… Koroe's soft voice… the fire.
"You have to remember before the next night…"
Then—she heard it.
A soft thud.
From the guest room directly above her.
She sat up in bed.
Another sound—a dragging scrape, like furniture moving on tatami.
Reiko stood and crept to the hallway. The lanterns were out. Only moonlight guided her up the ancient staircase.
The second floor hallway was colder. Dustier. She paused before the upper guest room. The door was slightly ajar.
"Return what you stole…"
Her blood froze.
That same tangled whisper from the hospital basement echoed faintly, threading through the air like smoke.
She reached for the door.
It creaked open.
Inside—the room was empty. Except—
A figure stood at the far end, by the window.
Reiko's breath caught.
It was a girl. Barefoot. Her yukata soaked in something dark. Her hair—wild and tangled, hiding most of her face—hung like wet seaweed. One eye peered through the strands.
A smile stretched across her lips.
A wide, too wide smile.
"Reiko-chan," she said in a singsong whisper.
Reiko stepped back.
"I've been waiting."
"Who… who are you?" Reiko asked, her voice cracking.
The girl tilted her head. Her joints made a sickening pop as she did.
"I used to be like you. Before the locket. Before the fire. Before he forgot me."
She stepped forward, bare feet leaving red footprints on the floor.
Reiko gasped. "Are you… Shiki?"
The girl stopped. Her smile faded slightly.
"No," she said softly. "Shiki is the beginning. I… I'm what's left when you forget the ending."
Then her face twisted.
Eyes rolled back.
A voice not her own spilled from her lips—male, cruel, and desperate.
"Give it back. You're not the heir. You weren't supposed to live!"
The windows rattled.
The walls pulsed with black veins crawling out from the corners.
Reiko stumbled back and slammed the door shut.
Something pounded from the other side.
Once. Twice. Then—
Silence.
She ran.
Down the hallway, down the stairs. Her breath hitched as she crashed back into the lower floor, nearly collapsing.
Saika met her halfway, holding a lantern.
"What happened?" he asked, alarmed.
Reiko clutched her chest, her voice raw. "There's… someone upstairs. A girl. She spoke in someone else's voice."
Saika's face grew grim. "You shouldn't have gone up there. That room belonged to Seijiro-sama… before he died."
Her heart stopped.
The youngest son.
The one who died last year.
"He used to play with a girl no one else saw," Saika murmured. "We thought she was imaginary. But the night before he died… he screamed her name in his sleep."
Reiko stared at him, pale.
"What was her name?"
Saika swallowed.
Kasumi ."
To be continued…