Buzz. Buzz.
Ken's phone buzzed loudly. Half-asleep, he reached out and grabbed it.
"Huh? Recharge d—"
Before he could even finish reading the notification, the phone started ringing.
"Mrs. Mayu?"
"Hello, Good mo—"
Before Ken could complete his sentence, Mrs. Mayu's furious voice cut through the speaker.
"How many times do I have to tell you to call me on your own? And you're still sleeping? Since when did you become this lazy? I bet you haven't even had breakfast yet, have you? Or taken a bath. Or done your laundry? And most importantly—why the hell was your phone switched off?"
Ken sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Hmm… sorry, Mrs. Mayu. I'll be more mindful from now on."
"Sorry won't cut it! Didn't I tell you to call me once you reached your room? Why didn't you?"
"I... I forgot."
"Don't give me excuses! That's not something you just forget!"
"..." Ken stayed quiet, letting her words rain down.
After a pause, her voice softened.
"Anyway... are you okay? Nothing happened to you, right?"
"No, I'm fine... What about you?"
"Stop asking about me. You're the one living alone now, not me."
"I'm grown up now. I can take care of myself."
"You could've lived alone here too. What was the need to go to another city? It's not like you've got a fancy job there or you're starting a family or something."
"...Hmm."
"From now on, call me at least once every three days. Don't forget."
"Got it. You should hang up now, you probably have things to do. I've got to take care of my chores too."
"Wait! There's something important I need to tell you."
"Hmm?"
"...It's about Sun…"
Her voice changed. There was a heavy pause before she spoke again.
"Last night, the police called the orphanage. They found his body in his room... he was hanging. The police say it might be suicide... but the investigation is still going on. They've taken him for postmortem. We'll know for sure in a few days."
Ken didn't say a word. His face didn't even flicker. As if… he already knew what was coming.
"I just don't believe he would kill himself. He was such a good boy. You were his best friend… you knew how kind and thoughtful he was, right?"
"I did. I know."
"You two grew up together. Always going places together, studying together…," She continued. "Was he in any kind of trouble? A fight with someone?"
"No... he was fine. But... why do you ask?"
"Because… there were burises on his face. Like he struggled with someone."
"Oh… no, nothing like that happened with him."
"That's why I've been worried about you too... I thought maybe—" Her voice cracked into soft sobs.
"You don't need to worry… I'm Okay. Nothing's going to happen to me."
He hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. "I know you're sad about Sun, but you still have the orphanage to take care of."
"You're right," she replied, still sniffling.
"How's Mr. Yamada? And the other kids?"
"They're all okay."
"Alright then… take care of everyone there. I'll try to visit soon."
"No... you don't have to—"
But Ken had already hung up.
At the orphanage, a little boy tugged at Mrs. Mayu's dress. "Mrs. Mayu… is Ken brother coming?"
She gently placed her palm on his cheek and smiled faintly. "No, sweetie. He's very busy,"
---
Meanwhile, Ken was sitting on the bed, back leaned against the wall, slumped quietly as if lost in thought—or maybe in memories.
He slowly looked up at the ceiling.
"Sun was a good friend," he whispered.
"Idiot."
A voice—one he knew well.
Suddenly, the wall behind him rippled like water, and from it emerged a human head—entirely pitch black, but with glowing white eyes staring directly into his.
The distance between their gazes was just a few fingers wide.
"Accept my death," the shadowy figure said.
Ken didn't flinch. Not even a blink.
Instead, he looked down, stood up, plugged in his earphones, and started playing music.
"You can't escape me, my best friend."
Ken didn't turn back.
---
A while later, he was doing laundry—washing clothes and hanging them on a rope he had tied inside the room.
"Phew… done with everything in just two hours."
(Doorbell rings)
"Mrs. Keiko?"
(Doorbell again)
"Are you home?"
Ken opened the door. Outside, it was Mrs. Kobayashi—ringing Mrs. Keiko's bell.
"Ahem—Excuse me, ma'am," Ken called out, politely.
She turned to him.
"I think she might've left for work," Ken said.
"Work? But she told me she quit her job."
"Oh... then, maybe she just stepped out to buy something. If you need help with anything, I can assist."
"No, no, nothing like that. Actually, I just came to give her an invitation." She smiled.
"An Invitation?"
"Yes, it's my son's birthday today. I was hoping to invite her to the evening party."
"Oh! Please wish Sora a happy birthday from me too."
"Of course! And you're invited as well—7 PM, 6th floor."
"Sure, I'll be there."
"And if Mrs. Keiko returns, could you let her know too."
"Definitely, I will."
"Thank you." She gave him a polite bow.
"You too." Ken bowed back.
As he closed his door, he muttered to himself, "Should I buy a gift… or just not go at all?"
Meanwhile, Mrs. Kobayashi headed up the stairs toward the third floor.
---
Elsewhere...
[Room No. 205]
Inside, Sae Takahashi was packing. Her phone lay on the bed, the screen still lit with a message:
> Bonjour! Your Air France flight AF123 from Tokyo to Paris departs today at 23:55. Check-in is now open. Please arrive at the airport at least 3 hours before departure.
Bon voyage!
She picked up her phone, opened the door, locked it behind her, and started heading downstairs.
Across the hallway, her neighbor Yuuto Matsumoto opened his door. Inside, Haruki lay unconscious on the floor—clearly Yuuto's doing. Yuuto, calm and unfazed, lit a cigarette and took a puff. He noticed Sae heading downstairs with her backpack. Without much thought, he walked toward the elevator, waited. The doors opened, he stepped inside. A few moments later, the elevator opened again—this time on the top floor.
He climbed up the short staircase to the roof, only to find it sealed off. On the side, Himari was smoking.
They exchanged glances.
"Why is the roof locked?" Yuuto asked.
Himari took a drag and replied casually, "Someone's dog died up here. The manager shut it down. Don't ask me how the dog got here—I've no idea either."
Yuuto stared at the sealed roof for a few seconds, then turned to head back down.
As he walked, Himari called after him, "By the way, there's a lot of screaming from your room lately."
"Huh?" Yuuto paused and turned around.
"What the hell are you two even doing in there?" she asked, amused.
"That's none of your business," Yuuto muttered and continued down the stairs.
Elsewhere in the building, Shun was also heading downstairs, dressed for the office. Issei was descending in the elevator.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Keiko was opening her door, carrying a plastic bag. She entered her room and slammed the door shut behind her—loud enough for Ken, her neighbor, to notice.
Ken opened his door and cautiously walked over to hers. He rang the bell.
"Mrs. Keiko?"
He rang it again.
This time, she answered. She opened the door holding a knife, its blade stained with blood.
"...need something?" She grumbled.
"Yea-N-No... actually, I..." Ken stammered, unable to finish.
Just then, thick black liquid began dripping rapidly from Keiko's nose. Her face twisted into a sinister grin. She gave him a twisted, almost demonic smile.
Terrified, Ken tried to close her door—but Keiko held it open with her hand.
Keiko stood frozen, and then—slowly, sickeningly—she began to change. Her skin cracked and split with the sound of tearing fabric, hardening into something coarse and alien. Her face folded in on itself, features rearranging in ways that defied all reason. Her arms thickened grotesquely, joints bulged and twisted, as if mocking the shape of humanity. From deep within her, a series of wet, grotesque noises escaped — slurping, grinding, rattling sounds that seemed to claw their way into the ears of anyone nearby. It wasn't just the eyes that recoiled; it was the mind itself, as if some primal part deep inside screamed that this was wrong, impossibly wrong. She was no longer human. To call her ugly would be to diminish the horror she had become — a thing that should not exist, staining reality just by standing there.
She started banging violently on Ken's door. Inside, Ken leaned against it, trying to keep it shut.
Suddenly, her knife came slashing through the door with such force that it pierced his shoulder. The blade got stuck.
Ken screamed in pain, backing away.
"You bitch—!"
Gritting his teeth, his eyes landed on his guitar. He grabbed it and yelled.
"If you even think about stepping into my room—I swear to God, I won't hesitate to kill you. Leave. That's your only chance."
Then, silence—a pin drop silence.
Keiko paused, eyes narrowed. Then she looked to her right. Inside the elevator stood an old man, staring at her in horror. Their eyes met—and she bolted toward him.
"Oh god, what is that?!" the man gasped, frantically pressing every button in the elevator.
"AHHH! Don't come near me!" he screamed.
Meanwhile, on the ground floor, Issei had just locked the building's main entrance completely. On the floor before him was a severed hand of a creature.
Everyone who had gathered there stood frozen in fear, too scared to move.
Inside his room, Ken shook, the guitar trembling with him.
His stare dug into the door—waiting, doubting, praying.
'Sure, I will... kill,' Ken told himself.
Silence slithered across the floor—
Then—
"You murderer..."
A whisper slithered into Ken's ear—cold, breathless.