Kairo had not left his room for five days.
The small bedroom felt smaller than ever, the curtains drawn tight against the endless rain that drummed relentlessly on the roof and windows. Water stains had begun to form on the ceiling in faint, irregular patterns, like bruises spreading across the plaster. Clothes lay scattered across the floor in crumpled heaps, mixed with empty instant ramen cups whose lids had curled at the edges. His desk was buried under half-finished notebooks filled with frantic, looping scribbles — fragments of Crypt's words, sketches of white masks, and the same sentence written over and over.
The air inside the room smelled stale — a heavy mix of sweat, old food, and the dampness that seeped through the walls no matter how hard he tried to keep the window closed. Kairo lay on his unmade bed, staring at the ceiling, his body heavy with exhaustion that sleep refused to fix. School was out of the question. The thought of walking those damp corridors, seeing Tsubaki's empty desk, or sitting anywhere near Mimo while pretending the night they had spent together had never happened made his stomach twist with nausea. The guilt was constant, a cold stone lodged in his chest that made even breathing feel difficult.
His phone buzzed on the nightstand again. Another missed call from Vey. Earlier ones from Sorine too. The screen showed multiple unread messages piling up, but he couldn't bring himself to open them. Every time he closed his eyes, the nightmares returned — vivid, suffocating dreams where hallways stretched forever in perfect repetition, rooms changed smoothly into warm, inviting traps filled with soft lights and whispering comforts, and two white-masked figures watched from every shadow with calm, unblinking patience. Crypt's light, sing-song voice echoed endlessly in his mind: "Kairo Takahashi… the hollow inside each of you is getting so big."
The mention of Kyo had lodged itself deep in his thoughts like a splinter that refused to come out. Those breathing spaces born from old disasters — massive tsunamis that swallowed entire coasts, earthquakes that ground stone and bone together for centuries — that could reshape ordinary rooms into perfect, tempting illusions. The familiarity of the description terrified him because it felt true. It matched the strange heaviness he had felt when Vey first described what happened in the old science lab. It matched the way the air sometimes felt thicker in quiet corners of the school. It matched the growing emptiness inside him since Tsubaki's death, an emptiness that now seemed alive and hungry.
He sat up slowly, rubbing his face with trembling hands. The guilt over sleeping with Mimo after Tsubaki died still burned hot, but something sharper had taken root. If the observers were real, if Kyo were real, then his friends might be in serious trouble. Especially now that Sorine and Vey had returned to school while he and Mimo had been absent. He couldn't keep hiding in this room forever.
Kairo picked up his phone with shaking fingers and opened the group chat. He typed a message to Sorine: "Hey, are you okay? I need to talk to you about something important. Please reply when you can." He waited. No response. He tried Vey next: "Vey, something happened the other night. I met two people who told me things about rooms that change. We really need to talk." Still nothing. He stared at Mimo's name in the contacts list, thumb hovering over the call button, but the awkwardness of that morning stopped him cold. The memory of her leaving without a single word, without even looking back, made his chest tighten painfully.
Just then, a sharp knock sounded at the front door.
Kairo froze. The knock came again, firmer this time. He dragged himself out of bed, legs unsteady from days of barely moving, and shuffled through the dark hallway to the entrance. When he opened the door, cold rain immediately sprayed against his face. Vey stood on the porch, rain dripping from their hoodie, face pale and serious under the dim outdoor light.
"Vey?" Kairo's voice came out cracked and hoarse. "What are you doing here?"
Vey stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, shaking water from their sleeves onto the genkan floor. Their eyes were sharp with urgency and barely contained fear. "Sorine is missing. She vanished in school today. We think Ren is behind it. I'm afraid he's done something to her."
Kairo felt the floor tilt beneath him. The nightmares rushed back in full force — the repeating hallways that never ended, the whispering comfort of never having to move forward again, the two masked figures watching silently from the shadows. He closed the door behind Vey and leaned against it for support, breathing hard as the weight of everything crashed down on him at once.
"I… I have to tell you everything," he said, voice trembling. "I haven't been to school because I've been having these nightmares ever since I met two people in the park a few nights ago. They wore white masks. The child called herself Crypt. The tall one was Index. They told me about Kyo — spaces born from old disasters like tsunamis and earthquakes. They can change rooms, make them into whatever you secretly want most. They learn what hurts you and offer comfort so perfect you almost don't want to leave. I thought I was imagining it, but after what you said about the lab… it matches everything. They called me by my full name. They knew everything about us, about the group, about how the hollow inside each of us is growing."
Vey reacted in genuine surprise. "Kyo? That matches exactly what happened to me in the lab — the room changed slowly into a love hotel, trying to fill the distance I keep between myself and everyone. It felt too real, too perfect."
Kairo nodded, the words tumbling out faster now, as if saying them aloud might make the nightmares loosen their grip. "There's more. Two days after the night we heard about Tsubaki… Mimo came over. We… we slept together. It was because we were both so broken after hearing the news. The grief was too much, and we reached for something warm to fill it. But she left the next morning without saying anything. I've been avoiding everyone because of the guilt. I feel like I betrayed Tsubaki. And now with Sorine missing… I think the observers were warning me. I think Kyo is real, and it's already here."
Vey listened in stunned silence for a long moment, rain still dripping from their hoodie onto the floor. Then they placed a steady hand on Kairo's shoulder. "We don't have time to unpack all of that right now. Sorine is gone, and Mimo isn't answering her phone or at her house. You're the only one available. Come with me. We're going to report Ren to the police. We can't wait any longer."
Kairo hesitated for only a second, the nightmares and guilt warring violently inside him. Then he nodded, grabbing his jacket from the hook by the door. "Okay. Let's go."
The two of them stepped out into the pouring rain, umbrellas barely holding back the downpour.
The rain kept falling, steady and cold, as if the city itself was trying to wash away the growing dread.