Kai's eyes snapped open, his breath coming in sharp gasps. The early morning light filtered in through his apartment window, the sounds of the city outside faint but ever-present.
He blinked, staring at the ceiling for a long moment, trying to process what had just happened.
Why am I here?
He sat up quickly, his head spinning.
His mind raced with memories of the night before — or was it? He remembered walking with Saito, then entering her strange, old house. He remembered the darkness in her eyes, the way she'd asked him questions that made him feel trapped.
And then... nothing.
It was all a blur.
Kai looked around the room, his apartment quiet and still. The familiar clutter of his place — his bed unmade, clothes tossed on the floor — seemed too real, too grounded, to be part of a dream.
No, it couldn't be a dream.
It was too vivid. Too real.
He rubbed his face, feeling the weight of exhaustion in his bones.
Was I sleepwalking? Did I... imagine it?
But something gnawed at him. His memory of Saito's eyes — that cold, calculating look — wouldn't go away.
Kai stood up and walked to the kitchen, still in a daze. His mind wouldn't stop spinning. His family lived in Kyoto, hundreds of miles away, and he had been living alone in Tokyo for a year now. His routine had always been simple, a life of solitude, focused on school and his ambitions.
Yet now, it felt like something had shifted. As though that brief encounter with Saito had cracked open something deep inside him — something he wasn't ready to face.
What happened to me last night? he thought, shaking his head. Why is everything so... off?
Kai glanced down at his hand.
The handkerchief. The one with his name embroidered on it.
It was still in his pocket.
He pulled it out, his fingers trembling. The fabric felt like it had been with him for much longer than he remembered. He stared at the stitching, his name neatly written in dark thread.
Wait... didn't I give this to her? he thought, his heart skipping.
Was it all a dream?
But no, the handkerchief was real. The memories were real.
The strange, unsettling feeling that lingered in the pit of his stomach was real.
Something was wrong. And he had to find out what it was.