Kairo lay buried under his blanket in the dim light of his bedroom, the heavy rain outside drumming steadily on the roof like a relentless heartbeat. The room was a mess — clothes scattered across the floor, empty ramen cups on the desk, and crumpled tissue papers forming small white islands on the wooden floorboards. The air felt thick and stale, carrying the faint, musky scent of sweat and something more intimate.
Under the blanket, Kairo moved ferociously, his hand working quickly as he stared at the picture of Mimo on his phone screen. It was the torn photo he had saved — Mimo smiling softly in her school uniform, the missing shoulder of someone else (probably Sorine) cut away. His breathing grew ragged, eyes fixed on her gentle expression. The image filled the hollow inside him for a few desperate minutes, pushing back the nightmares and the guilt. He moaned softly as he reached the peak, body tensing, then collapsing with a shuddering release.
He lay there for a moment, chest heaving, before pushing the blanket aside and sitting up. His eyes scanned the floor — several used tissue papers lay scattered near the bed, evidence of the restless nights and the way he had been coping. He whispered to the empty room, voice hoarse, "Mimo… you're the only solace when the nightmares come. Even if it's just a picture."
The door suddenly opened without a knock.
His mother stepped in, carrying a basket of clean laundry. She wrinkled her nose immediately. "Kairo, why does your room stink so badly? It smells like a locker room in here. You need to tidy up — open a window, at least."
Kairo quickly pulled the blanket over his lap, face flushing with embarrassment. "Mom! You should knock next time before entering."
She set the basket down and crossed her arms, looking around at the mess with clear disapproval. "School being temporarily closed doesn't mean you should turn into a slob. You should still be reading books, studying, keeping your mind sharp. I won't clean it for you this time like I did last week. You're old enough to take responsibility."
As she turned to leave, she added over her shoulder, "And air this place out. It's disgusting."
The door clicked shut behind her. Kairo let out a long breath and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The guilt and shame from the night with Mimo still lingered, but so did the strange comfort her image had brought during the nightmares. He turned his head toward the nightstand and picked up the group photo — the one with all of them except Mimo, the picture carefully cut so that only Sorine's shoulder remained visible on the edge. His eyes lingered on Tsubaki's smiling face in the photo. The guilt hit him like a physical blow — sharp, twisting, unrelenting. He had been intimate with Mimo on the very night Tsubaki was murdered. The thought made his stomach churn.
His phone buzzed on the nightstand. Messages from the group chat.
Vey: "We're somehow going to get information on Ren-sensei with help from the detective in charge. More details later."
Mimo: "Has anyone heard anything about Sorine? I'm really worried…"
Seeing Mimo's text made something inside Kairo loosen just a little. He had been terrified that her silence and absence were because of the awkwardness between them after that night. Knowing she was still reaching out to the group brought a strange wave of relief. He typed nothing back, simply turned off the phone and closed his eyes, trying to find a moment of peace.
The nightmare he had every night since meeting Crypt and Index began to replay almost immediately.
He was back in the repeating hallway — endless identical doors, humming lights, the same scuffed floor stretching forever. The whispers returned: "Stay here. No more pain. No more loss. Just the loop…" Then the white masks appeared at the edges, watching silently. Kairo tried to run, but the hallway reset again and again, trapping him in the same stretch of corridor.
The bedroom door opened again.
Kairo didn't turn, assuming it was his mother returning. "I told you to knock next time," he muttered irritably.
A deeper, calmer voice answered. "Sorry about that."
Kairo turned sharply and sat up straight. His father stood in the doorway — tall, quiet, with the same thoughtful eyes Kairo had inherited. He moved to the chair at the dark edge of the room and sat down, the shadows partially hiding his face.
Kairo apologized quickly. "Sorry, Dad. I thought it was Mom again."
His father nodded once, sitting in silence for a moment. The rain continued its steady rhythm outside, the only sound filling the room.
Kairo looked at him, but with time, Kairo's focus shifted only a little bit. The shadows in the room seemed to deepen, the outline of his father's figure blurring at the edges. Then, the person in front of him was no longer his father.
It was Index.
The tall man in the black suit and black gloves sat perfectly still in the chair, the smooth white mask covering his entire head. Pale skin showed at the neck and wrists. Rain from earlier still clung to the suit in dark patches. The figure said nothing, but the air in the room grew heavier, pressing gently on Kairo's chest like an invisible weight, making the emptiness inside him feel suddenly larger and more alive.
Kairo's breath caught. He blinked hard, but the image remained. The nightmare had bled into waking life. He sat frozen on the bed, heart pounding, unable to look away from the silent, masked observer who now occupied his father's chair at the dark edge of the room.
The rain kept falling outside, steady and cold, as if the city itself was trying to wash something away that refused to disappear.
---
Meanwhile, in his office at the police station, Detective Hikaru sat at his desk arranging files — the folder he had promised to draft for Vey and the others. Papers on Ren Fushiwara, witness statements, and crime scene photos were spread across the surface. A female subordinate entered, holding a report.
"Fingerprints analysis came in from Aiko Sato's apartment," she said. "It wasn't female, unlike the park incident with the mother and child. The killer of Aiko was male."
Hikaru leaned back in his chair, a frustrated smile crossing his face. "Great," he muttered under his breath.
The subordinate then noticed the suspicion list open on his desktop screen. "Why is that high-school girl your top suspect?" she asked, pointing at Mimo's name at the very top.
Hikaru looked up, his expression calm. "Why would I make a high-school girl my number one suspect?" He paused, then added quietly, "If she is… then blame my intuition."
The rain continued to fall outside the station windows, steady and unrelenting.