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.
"What… what did you do to my dad?" Kairo shouted, voice cracking as the nightmares flooded back into his memory all at once. Tears welled up instantly. "Tell me! What did you do to him?!"
Index stayed perfectly silent, the white mask blank and unreadable.
"Tell me!" Kairo cried, tears streaming down his face now. His hands clutched the blanket tightly, body shaking.
Index finally spoke, his voice calm and measured, almost gentle. "I didn't plan for you to see me, Kairo Takahashi. You are highly mistaken if you take me and Crypt as villains. We're just observers."
Kairo's sobs caught in his throat. "Observers…? Then why are you here? Why is my father gone?"
"No one is hearing your screams," Index continued quietly. "I have already modified the room into a pocket dimension. Your voice will not reach beyond these walls."
Kairo stared, tears still falling. Index tilted his masked head slightly.
"Let me introduce myself again. I am one of the tens of Apparitions in existence. Index, born from the trauma of one's lifelong inability to speak the truth of their heart — the accumulated pain of countless people who loved deeply but could never confess, whose words died silently inside them for years, decades, even lifetimes."
He paused, the room feeling even heavier.
"I am actually quite talkative," Index admitted, a faint trace of dry humor in his tone. "I only pretend to be silent in front of Crypt. She enjoys the performance."
Kairo wiped his face with a trembling hand. "Why are you telling me this? What do you want?"
"You are special, Kairo Takahashi," Index said simply. "You would probably awaken Shugiin abilities before anyone else in your group. Shugiin is the birth and destruction of Kyo — the power to create or unmake the very spaces we are."
Index rose slowly from the chair.
"I was never here."
The moment the words left his mouth, everything shifted. Kairo blinked, and the figure was gone. The chair at the dark edge of the room was empty once more. His father's presence had vanished entirely from his memory, as if the encounter had never happened. Kairo sat there, confused and drained, staring at the empty chair with no recollection of seeing Index at all that day. The nightmares still lingered at the edges of his mind, but the specific memory of the masked man in his father's place had been cleanly erased.
The rain continued to fall outside, steady and cold.
Kairo rubbed his eyes, feeling strangely hollow, as if something important had slipped away without him noticing.
---
The rain had eased into a persistent drizzle by the time Detective Hikaru arrived at Seika High School on Friday morning. Yellow police tape fluttered across parts of the main gate and around the entrance to the old wing, marking the areas still under active investigation. The school building looked different under the gray sky — the concrete walls darker where water had streaked them, the sports field turned into a muddy expanse, and the covered walkways echoing with the soft patter of rain on metal roofs. A few officers in raincoats moved quietly across the grounds, taking photographs and measurements, while teachers and staff stood in small, hushed groups near the staff room, their faces drawn with worry and disbelief.
Hikaru walked through the main entrance, his dark suit slightly damp at the shoulders, a simple umbrella folded under one arm. He carried a thin folder under the other. The hallways were eerily quiet. Lockers stood in neat blue rows, some still decorated with peeling stickers or small notes from students who would not return for the rest of the week. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a flat, yellowish glow that made the damp floors glisten. The air smelled of wet concrete, floor polish, and the faint, lingering scent of school lunches that had been canceled.
He made his way toward the old science lab, the focal point of Sorine's disappearance. Two uniformed officers stood guard outside the door, nodding respectfully as he approached. Hikaru slipped on a pair of disposable gloves and stepped inside.
The room was exactly as described in the reports — dusty workbenches lined the walls, faded posters peeling at the edges, glass beakers standing in cloudy cabinets, and the large chalkboard at the front with faint smudges. The air felt cooler and heavier than the rest of the school, carrying that stale chemical scent mixed with aged wood. Hikaru moved slowly, his eyes scanning every surface. He ran a gloved hand along one workbench, noting the thin layer of dust that had been disturbed in places. He crouched near the center of the room where Sorine had reportedly entered, studying the tiled floor for any unusual marks or scuff patterns that might suggest a struggle or sudden change.
Nothing obvious stood out. Yet the room felt… off. The way the light fell seemed slightly wrong, the corners a little too deep. Hikaru had investigated enough strange scenes in his career to trust his intuition. He stood still for a long moment, listening to the rain pattering against the windows, letting the atmosphere of the space settle over him.
He opened his folder and reviewed the statements again. Vey's vague description of the room changing, Sorine's mother's tearful account, the timing of the disappearance. He made a few notes in the margin: "Possible environmental anomaly?" and "Witness reliability low due to trauma." His outstanding intuition — the same gift that had solved so many cases when he was still a young detective — was whispering that something unnatural had happened here. But he kept that thought to himself. Cases like this required evidence, not feelings.
As he stepped back into the hallway, he spotted a small group of teachers gathered near the staff room. One of them, an older woman with graying hair, approached him hesitantly.
"Detective… is there any news about Sorine? Or about Ren-sensei?"
Hikaru offered a polite, reassuring nod. "We're following every lead. The school's cooperation is appreciated. We'll try to keep disruption to a minimum."He continued his walk through the corridors, noting the empty classrooms, the silent club rooms, the way the rain made the entire building feel isolated and watchful. He stopped briefly outside the literature classroom where Ren had taught, peering through the glass pane in the door. Desks stood in neat rows, the blackboard still bearing faint traces of poems about loss and distance. Hikaru's expression remained calm, but his mind turned over the complicated history he shared with Ren. He pushed those thoughts aside. Personal history could not interfere with the investigation.
In the distance, he heard the soft murmur of voices. A few students had been allowed back briefly to collect belongings under supervision. Among them, he recognized Vey standing near the lockers, talking quietly with another officer. Hikaru did not approach. Not yet. He needed more pieces before confronting the group again. Instead, Vey approached him.
"I said I would draft the folder containing what you want per our agreement," Hikaru said, not looking up at first. His voice was calm but carried a hint of irritation. "Why disturb me?"
Vey stood firm. "We want more. Ren's info from school. Everything you have on him from his time here."
Hikaru finally looked up, his expression shifting to something sharper. "It's heartless of you to be so fixated on putting Ren to justice — that's if he was even the person who did it — and not focus more on your friend that was missing." He paused, then added with a dry, dark joke, "I heard you lost one to a serial killer already. Wouldn't want to hear this one was discovered in parts all over Japan, would you?"
Vey clearly looked hurt by his words.