Kriiik.
A soft creak echoed from the wooden window frame as thin morning air seeped inside.
I opened my eyes slowly.
Still dark.
Still quiet.
Cold enough that my breath floated faintly in front of me.
The futon beneath me was warm, but the early-morning chill from outside slipped through every tiny gap of the old ryokan.
I sat up, rubbing my face.
"…ugh… my head feels heavy…"
I tried to remember last night.
Hot spring.
The girls.
Chaos.
Towels flying.
Shouting.
Laughing.
And then—
"…wait… what did I do after that…?"
I stared at the ceiling.
Nothing.
Completely blank.
Like someone took an eraser to my memories and gently scrubbed away the ending.
"Whatever… I'll just walk around."
I pulled on a thin hoodie, draped it loosely, and stepped out of the room.
The hallway was dim—just a few small amber lamps glowing faintly, left on through the night.
No footsteps.
No voices.
Only the soft whisper of wind slipping through the outer doors.
As I walked…
As I inhaled deeply…
The crisp, unmistakable scent of a Kawaguchiko dawn hit me.
Cold air.
Damp earth.
Fresh fallen maple leaves.
And far away, the soft lap of water brushing the lakeshore.
The ryokan sat at the base of a small hill, so I could already see the lake—still half-covered in a thin veil of white morning mist, like a blanket not yet pulled away by the sun.
My feet carried me toward the outdoor terrace.
Instinctively.
The sky was slowly shifting from deep black to a faint purplish blue.
"…why does it feel so quiet today…?"
The silence wasn't uncomfortable.
Just heavy.
Too heavy.
I followed the narrow path, passing the corridor from last night, the entrance to the baths, then the small inner garden with stone lanterns and maple trees.
Everything looked like a different world compared to the chaos from before.
Peaceful.
Still.
Empty.
Until I saw someone.
A little girl.
Sitting alone at the edge of the outer garden.
Facing the lake.
Her small shoulders rising and falling slowly, as if she'd been sitting there for hours.
Short black hair.
Simple white dress.
No coat, even though the air was freezing.
I stopped walking.
"…a kid? Out here? At this hour…?"
I looked around for parents.
No one.
Not a soul.
Just her.
Something in my chest tightened.
My feet moved on their own—
Step by step, approaching her.
"Hey… are you okay? Why are you alone here?"
She didn't turn.
Didn't reply.
Only her faint breathing broke the silence.
I crouched slightly.
"Are you lost? Are you staying at this ryokan too? Or—"
She finally spoke.
But it wasn't an answer.
Her voice was soft.
Too soft.
And too calm.
"Kaito-kun… when you were little, you always said it wasn't your fault, right?"
My body froze.
"…what?"
She kept staring at the fallen leaves in front of her.
"But that was a lie."
A chill crawled up my spine.
"…wait, do we know each other? Who are you?"
I tried to laugh it off.
I tried to breathe normally.
But my heartbeat started to pound in my ears.
Then—slowly—the girl lifted her face.
Her eyes were dark.
Not lifeless, but deep.
Like she could see through everything I hid.
"Back then, you promised something. You said, 'I'll come back.'
But you never did. Did you?"
My throat tightened.
"…what promise…? What are you saying…?"
Something inside my chest twisted.
A strange, suffocating pressure—like an old memory struggling to surface.
She stood up.
Directly in front of me now.
Close.
Too close.
"Kaito-kun… you're a liar."
My heart dropped.
Behind me—
Soft footsteps.
Whispers.
Or… quiet sobbing?
I turned around.
And—
There were other children.
Dozens.
Hundreds maybe.
Stepping out of the fog.
Out from behind trees.
From corners of the garden.
From the dim hallways of the ryokan.
They surrounded me slowly.
Pale skin.
Small bodies.
Unblinking eyes.
They walked forward—
Closer.
Closer.
Their lips moved in sync.
Their voices layered into one:
"You're a liar."
My breath hitched.
"W-wait! I—I don't know you! What are you talking about!?"
"You're a liar."
The ring of children tightened around me.
A circle shrinking inch by inch.
I spun around toward the first girl—
But she was already standing right in front of me.
Looking up.
Expression unreadable.
"Kaito-kun… you haven't changed at all."
Then—
A sudden gust of wind swept through the maple trees.
The mist parted.
And in the distance—beyond the garden—
Past the fading fog—
A woman in white stood there.
Her face was hidden in the glow behind her, but her voice—soft, trembling, almost mourning—slid straight into my chest.
"Kaito… all those regrets you carry," she whispered. "The fear that binds you. The sadness that keeps you locked inside your own prison."
My breath froze.
Her words felt like fingers digging into scars I thought were long gone.
"You keep blaming yourself," she continued, stepping closer. "For the things you couldn't do… for the things you didn't do. For being too late… always too late."
The world around us darkened, swallowed by a black mist. Her silhouette remained, hovering like a ghost that knew too much.
"You couldn't move. You couldn't speak. You couldn't save anyone."
Her tone sharpened—not loud, but merciless.
"Kaito, you're so… PATHETIC."
A violent echo burst behind her.
A boy's voice.
"You're a LOSER!"
Another one.
"Why can't you do anything?"
More voices layered over each other, shrill and angry:
"They were screaming for your help!"
"Why didn't you move? Why didn't you save them?"
And then—
Shapes crawled out from the darkness.
Children.
Dozens of me.
My younger selves, all wounded, bloodied, broken—staring at me with hollow, accusing eyes.
One stepped forward, limping.
"You're just a pathetic liar… KAITO."
My knees buckled.
The voices drilled into my skull, overlapping, getting louder—until something yanked me backward. Hard.
Light burst behind my eyes.
I woke up.
Gasping.
My body jerked on the bed, breath uneven and cold. The room's dim lamp snapped into focus—and then I saw them.
The girls.
All of them were gathered around me, their faces pale with worry.
I… I didn't realize I'd been crying. My hands were shaking.
"Kaito…?" one whispered.
I couldn't look at them. Not like this.
I forced myself up, wiping my face quickly.
"I'm okay!" I blurted out, too fast, too bright. "Don't worry about me!"
I gave them the warmest smile I could fake.
And before any of them could reach out or ask more, I stood up and walked toward the door—leaving the nightmare behind. Or at least… trying to.