Right before the hand could crush her, she twisted her head just enough to glimpse its shape—
—A soda can slammed onto the table.
Game Over.
Bright colors flashed across the screen. A victory jingle played. Soft laughter followed. it was Yue—
"I won! I finally won!!" she cheered, throwing her hands up.
Haru smiled and reached for another slice of pizza.
"I know you let me win… right?"
She hugged a pillow against her chest and tilted her head at him. He choked slightly on his bite and grabbed a soda to wash it down. She laughed.
"No, I—"
"It's fine," she cut in gently. "Spending time with you feels good."
His arm, mid-gesture, slowly lowered. A thin line of sweat formed at his temple. He stared at her.
That feeling again.
Silence stretched between them. Her eyes didn't leave his.
"I… see," he said finally. "I like being with you too."
Her face flushed instantly. She turned away, covering her face with both hands, shoulders tightening as if trying to contain something.
Haru blinked. Completely lost.
"Are you o—"
"Yes! I'm okay!" she replied too quickly, still refusing to face him.
He quietly gathered the pizza boxes and empty cans, carrying them to the trash. When he returned, she was still hugging the pillow.
He sighed.
"It's getting late. I'll take you home."
She looked at him and smiled.
"Your parents must be worrying about you."
he asked, tilting his head.
She giggled and waved her hand dismissively.
"Relax. I'm old enough. They won't worry." She paused, then added casually, "I said I'd stay here tonight."
Haru froze.
"Are you serious?!"
She nodded eagerly.
He scratched his head, exhaling slowly. "Look at you, deciding everything on your own."
She looked like she might start wagging an invisible tail.
He sighed again.
"You'll sleep in my room. I'll take the couch. Got it?"
She hesitated—just for a second—then nodded. "Sure."
He grabbed his towel and went to shower. She lingered for a moment, glancing at his room, then at the bathroom door, before quietly tidying up the living area.
Ten minutes later, he stepped out wearing sweatpants and a sweater.
She stood there holding a towel and a transparent bag.
"Oh. You brought your own soap. Nice."
He stepped aside. She slipped past him without a word and shut the door behind her.
He stood there for a moment, confused, then shook it off. He placed his towel in his room and lay down on the couch, staring at the ceiling.
"Some of her actions are… weird."
He glanced toward the bathroom. Water ran softly behind the door.
"I get that behavior. But I don't want to assume."
He looked back at the ceiling.
"…I can feel it." A slow breath left him. "I'm already falling for her."
. . .
Inside the bathroom, she kept rubbing soap along her arm long after her skin was covered in foam.
Her movements slowed. Her thoughts drifted.
"How…" she murmured, turning on the shower.
"When will I be able to say it…"
Later, dressed in her pajamas, she stood before the mirror. Her cheeks warmed. "…that I love him."
. . .
When she stepped out, the apartment was quiet.
He was already asleep on the couch.
She walked toward him slowly and knelt down. Carefully, she cupped his face, her touch light enough not to wake him. Her thumb brushed against his cheek.
A soft smile formed.
"I… love you."
Wind slipped through the open window. The curtains lifted gently as moonlight spilled across the room.
—
Lightning split across the sky.
No storm.
No clouds.
Not even thunder.
The clock clicked. 7:00 AM.
Sunlight warmed his face. Haru slowly opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling.
Then the smell reached him. Food.
His gaze shifted—and stopped.
Yue stood in the kitchen, sleeves slightly rolled up, quietly preparing breakfast. He sat up. Frozen.
For years, he had woken up to silence. Cold air. An empty room. Now the apartment felt warm. Alive.
His vision blurred.
Tears slipped down before he could stop them.
Yue finished cooking and turned to set the ladle down—then froze.
He was sitting there, crying without a sound.
She rushed to him.
"What's wrong?" Her voice trembled.
He didn't answer.
He just pulled her into his arms—tight, desperate, like he was afraid she might disappear.
She stiffened for a second, confused—then slowly wrapped her arms around him.
"It's okay," she whispered. "I'm here." She held him closer. "I'm here."
After a while, his breathing steadied. He loosened his grip. They looked at each other.
The clock ticked between them.
"Thank you," he said softly, eyes dropping to the floor. She didn't look away.
"Because of you… this place feels like home."
Her composure cracked.
She knew how long he had been alone.
Her eyes burned. Tears spilled freely as she pulled his head against her chest.
"I promise," she said, tightening her arms around him. "I'll never leave you. I won't let you be alone again." Her voice shook. "As long as I'm here."
They stayed like that for minutes.
Haru slowly lifted his head, still close to her, looking up at her face. She looked down at him—still soft, still full of sympathy.
• • • • •
Color rose to his cheeks. Then hers. Realization hit.
She immediately let go and stepped back, face bright red, body stiff.
"I—I—I'm… I'm sorry!" she stammered. "I didn't mean to— I just got carried away."
Haru watched her panic.
He gently placed his hand over hers. She stopped.
"It's okay," he said quietly. "I understand."
Something in his tone eased her. Her eyes lifted again, hopeful.
"Anyway," he added, shifting the mood, "shall we eat? I'm kind of excited to try what you made."
She blinked—then smiled.
"Right! Let's eat!"
She moved to serve the food, but he followed her into the kitchen, grabbing bowls, chopsticks, spoons. "You don't have to—"
"It's fine," he said gently. "Let me help at least this much."
He gave her that same genuine smile from the first night they hung out.
She didn't stop him.
After they finished setting the table, she glanced at him.
"Want to watch the news?"
He scoffed. "Are we that old?" He smirked. "Just kidding. Sure."
She laughed and turned on the TV as they began eating.
"We are still investigating the scene and what happened to those six individuals."
The screen showed a blurred image of a campsite at the foot of the mountains.
"According to a witness, it may have been a wild animal. Here is his statement."
The footage switched.
"When we arrived two days after receiving information about the location… this is what we saw." The man's hands shook. His voice wavered. "We immediately called the police."
Fear clung to his expression.
Haru and Yue exchanged a glance.
The mood shifted.
After several more blurred images flashed across the screen, Yue's face paled. She suddenly turned off the TV. She covered her mouth, swallowing hard. Haru quietly poured her a glass of water.
She drank. Slowly.
"Are you okay now?" he asked.
"Kinda," she said, still shaken.
"Can you finish eating?"
She nodded. "Yes."
A pause.
"But… do you really think it was just a wild animal?"
She looked at him, chewing slowly.
"Why not? Maybe a wild bear?"
He hesitated.
"What if it's… a monster?"
She nearly choked. "…A monster?"
She stared at him. "That only happens in movies. We're not living in some fantasy world. That doesn't happen in real life."
Haru's expression didn't change.
"Who knows?"
She giggled nervously.
"What, next you'll say we're going to get magic powers too?"
He didn't answer. He just continued eating.
After a while, the tension faded as they talked about lighter things. Soon, the plates were empty.
"I'll wash the dishes,"
Yue said, standing up. He tried to protest, but she smiled firmly. So he let her. While she washed the dishes, he tidied the apartment again.
Thirty minutes later, everything looked spotless.
They met in the middle of the room and gave each other a high five.
"Wanna go for a walk?" Yue asked, leaning slightly forward, hands behind her back, eyes shining.
Haru looked at her.
He didn't stand a chance.
"Yeah," he said.
They got ready and stepped outside.
The street was calm. Warm sunlight stretched across the pavement as they walked side by side.
—
Just like that, Haru's apartment felt warmer, alive with Yue's presence.
Time passed, and with it, they grew closer. Days melted into nights spent together—laughter, small routines, quiet moments, shared meals.
Three months later, their bond was undeniable. Haru smiled more, genuinely, more often than he had in years.
"Here, try this," Yue said, holding a piece of fish meat, blowing lightly on it.
Haru hesitated, then bit into it. His eyes lit up.
"It tastes… so good!"
and after that.
"Hey," he called, voice playful but tired, juggling a few shopping bags. "Don't run off!"
Yue turned at a distance, leaning slightly with her arms behind her back, smiling. She laughed softly as people walks past in front of her. Haru exhaled and shook his head, a small smile breaking through his exhaustion, then continued following her.
—
Another three months passed.
The missing people. The slaughtered animals. The bodies found in forests. The numbers climbed, relentlessly, alarming governments worldwide. Responses began to ripple, emergency measures enacted.
"Jeez… hiking and forest exploration are getting shut down," muttered a random passerby, eyes glued to his phone.
Haru and Yue glanced at him, then at each other, before resuming their walk down the quiet night street.
"What if it's really… a monster?" Yue whispered, her fingers tightening on his arm.
"Weren't you the one saying we live in the real world?" he murmured, voice low.
She didn't answer. Her grip just tightened on his jacket sleeve. He looked at her, expression serious, then shifted his gaze back to the street ahead.
"May God help us…" muttered an elderly woman being assisted by another down the sidewalk.
The wind stirred, carrying leaves across the asphalt. A sense of unease spread, subtle but undeniable.
—
Four more months passed. October 8th, 2109.
Night had fallen over Haru's apartment. Yue was there too. Soft light spilled from the TV across the room.
"Here's footage caught by one of the teenagers who dared to enter the forest," said by a newscaster
The screen flickered to life. Teenagers laughed, the camera bouncing with their excitement.
"Yo, this is fun!" one called, camera angled toward the leader. Another muttered nervously,
"This is so wrong…" but the others laughed it off.
They pushed deeper into the forest. The camera wobbled with every step.
"Hey… I'm getting a bad feeling about this," said someone in the back.
Shadows shifted. The flashlights darted wildly, trying to catch movement—but it came again, faster.
Suddenly, the leader was dragged into darkness by tentacles. Panic erupted. The camera shook violently as the others bolted, tripping over roots and scrambling toward the forest edge.
One fell near an iron net wall. His friend reached down, trying to pull him free, kicking at the unseen grasp—but the creature was relentless.
A blur. A flash of light. And there it was.
The footage froze for a split second.
The world saw it.
A monster.
Its waist impossibly thin, arms unnaturally long, tipped with three sharp claws. Tentacles writhed from its mouth. One enormous, unblinking eye stared ahead. Its feet bent backward, almost like knees. Its size was grotesque, dominating the frame.
It was real.
Disgustingly, terrifyingly real.
Yue and Haru exchanged a look. No jokes. No denial. The worst possibility they had whispered about had stepped into the light.
The news continued—analysts speaking, officials urging calm—but the words felt distant, hollow.
After a moment, Haru turned off the TV.
The room fell quiet.
He walked into his bedroom. Yue remained seated, watching him. A second later, the sharp sound of windows sliding shut echoed through the apartment. Locks clicked.
He stepped back out and gestured toward the room. "It's late. You should rest."
She studied him for a moment, searching his face.
Then she nodded and walked toward the bedroom.
At the doorway, she paused and looked back.
"Don't stay up too late, okay?" Her voice carried something fragile—fear wrapped in concern.
He nodded.
She closed the door, leaving it slightly open.
—
Time passed. The clock read 3:00 AM.
His phone buzzed.
Haru picked it up and began scrolling.
The footage had already spread worldwide. Faster than wildfire. His brows slowly drew together.
"Is this the end?" one post read. He scrolled.
"It looks too real to be edited."
Another post displayed the frozen image of the creature. Beneath it, a comment:
"I asked AI about this image. There's no similar data that could recreate something like that if it were fake. Based on the recent incidents over the past months, it said this could actually be real."
Haru kept reading.
"Is God actually real? Because what is that thing? It wasn't in any history." A reply underneath:
"He is real! Believe in God! He will save us!"
Post after post blurred together—fear, theories, prayers, panic.
The glow of the screen reflected faintly in his eyes.
Outside, the night remained still.
His grip on the phone loosened.
At some point between one post and the next, his eyes closed. The phone slipped slightly in his hand as sleep quietly claimed him.
—
The sun had already climbed high when he woke to the smell of sesame oil and scallions drifting through the apartment.
Haru lay still for a moment, eyes heavy, listening to the quiet clatter of chopsticks against a bowl. Yue stood at the stove. Her shoulders were too stiff. The hand holding the ladle trembled just slightly before she steadied it against the rim of the pot.
He watched her expression in the kitchen. The smile she wore didn't reach her eyes.
He rose without a word and crossed the room.
When he placed his hand on her shoulder, she flinched—just enough for him to feel it through his palm. She turned quickly, lips already curved upward.
"I didn't notice you were awake."
He didn't answer right away. His gaze dropped to the steam curling up from the pan instead of meeting her eyes. His thumb pressed gently against her shoulder, grounding them both.
"I'm here," he said quietly. "No matter what."
He wasn't sure if it was reassurance or a promise he was daring himself to keep.
Her smile softened, but her fingers tightened around the ladle. "I know… thank you."
The words came out steady. Her eyes didn't.
Her phone buzzed on the counter. Both of them looked at it at the same time.
She wiped her hands on her apron before picking it up.
"Please be safe. Both of you. And don't go out at night." — Yue's mother.
Yue's jaw clenched faintly before she typed back.
"We'll be careful. Don't worry."
She set the phone down with more care than necessary.
By the time she turned around, Haru had already arranged the table—two bowls aligned neatly, chopsticks parallel, everything in its place. She carried the dishes over. He switched on the television.
"…taking action, the government has declared a hunt for the creature. Military forces have been mobilized. New reports confirm similar incidents in several countries. It's no longer confined to China. Cases have now been reported in Japan, Korea, Russia, and Taiwan. Authorities fear it may spread across Asia—or even the entire wor—"
The screen went black. Haru lowered the remote.
Yue looked at him. He didn't look back. He just sat down.
They began to eat.
The only sounds were porcelain against wood and the faint ticking of the clock. Neither of them spoke. They didn't need to. The silence between them was crowded enough.
Days passed. Then weeks.
Each morning brought another country. Another blurred image. Another failure to trace its origin.
Two months later—
At the headquarters of the United Nations Security Council, the air inside the chamber felt heavier than the suits and medals worn within it.
A long curved table. Microphones glowing red. Flags lining the walls.
"Even now, there are no results regarding its origin."
The chair of the session pressed his fingers against his temple before continuing. Frustration bled through the composure in his voice.
Large screens displayed the images.
Some were grainy. Some were stained.
Sacrifices had been made just to capture them.
Three distinct forms.
The first was already shown to the world
The second—never released to the public. Classified. Towering beyond the height of an average tree. Skin dark green. Arms shaped like blades. No visible eyes. A mouth stretched long and reptilian. Legs bent backward at an unnatural angle.
The Third—thin at the waist to the point of impossibility. Two heads tilted at different angles, as if arguing silently. Legs replaced by writhing tentacles. Two long, segmented arms ending in claws sharp enough to split steel.
Around the table, representatives shifted in their seats. A Russian delegate whispered something to an aide. The Korean ambassador folded his hands tightly. The Japanese representative stared at the screen without blinking.
The lead scientist—widely regarded as the most brilliant in his field—leaned forward, fingers interlocked.
"Based on the morphology shown in these images, these creatures cannot be the result of any known experimental procedure. The evolutionary divergence required is… impossible."
Murmurs spread.
A representative from China adjusted his earpiece before speaking. His voice came through the translation feed a second later.
"Are you suggesting these creatures emerged naturally? By unknown means?"
The scientist held his gaze. Then he nodded.
Silence fell over the chamber. No one wanted to be the first to voice what that meant.
No laboratory.
No nation.
No enemy to point at.
Just something that had… appeared.
The meeting dissolved soon after. Chairs scraped softly against the floor. Papers were gathered. No one lingered.
Back in his laboratory, the scientist pinned the photographs onto a board. One by one. The sound of the pushpins was sharp in the quiet room.
He stepped back. Studied them.
The shapes. The proportions. The impossible anatomy.
His fingers hovered over one image before curling into a fist.
Somewhere far from the cold lights of that lab—
On the streets of Nanchang, Jiangxi.
Wind slipped between buildings, lifting fallen leaves into the glow of lantern light. Red banners fluttered. The Spring Festival was hours away.
Despite everything, the streets were alive.
People wore bright red coats and dresses. Laughter mingled with the distant crackle of test fireworks. Fear lingered in the air—but so did stubborn hope.
In the middle of the crowd, Yue ran ahead, her traditional red dress catching the light. She pulled Haru by the hand, weaving through people with breathless excitement.
"Haru—this way!"
She stopped abruptly in front of a familiar stall, steam rising thick and warm into the night air.
The scent of freshly steamed buns.
His chest tightened with memory. Their first hangout. She had dragged him here then, too.
He smiled before he realized he was doing it.
"Six, please!" she called out, bouncing slightly on her heels.
The old vendor chuckled. "Six buns coming right up!"
Haru watched her as she leaned forward, eyes bright, practically hovering over the bamboo steamer.
He took out his phone. Click. a steam blurred her face. annoyed by the steam he decided to take another shot—
The flash caught her attention. She turned toward him, grin widening, fingers lifting into a playful peace sign.
For a second, he forgot to breathe.
He snapped another photo.
"Here! Six buns. Nine yuan," the vendor said, placing the warm bag into Yue's hands.
Before she could reach for her wallet, Haru's arm extended past her.
"Here."
Coins exchanged hands.
"Thank you! Have a nice evening!" the vendor said warmly.
They walked back into the crowd. Yue tore open the bag and took a big bite immediately, steam brushing her cheeks.
"Thank you—" she mumbled, mouth full.
Haru reached over and gently squished both her cheeks with one hand.
"Swallow first," he said, smiling despite himself. "Then talk."
Her eyes narrowed playfully as she chewed faster, determined. He kept his hand there a second longer than necessary.
Three hours before the fireworks.
The night sky waited.
—
Children tore across the plaza in bright, reckless bursts of laughter while Yue and Haru sat on a bench set a quiet distance from the crowd.
A few of the kids skidded to a stop in front of them, grinning, and held out flowers as if presenting treasure.
Yue accepted hers with both hands, smiling so gently it almost hurt to look at. Haru followed, murmuring a soft thanks. The children waved wildly and scattered again, vanishing back into the noise.
"It's beautiful… I like it," Yue said, studying the petals as though they were something fragile and rare. Her eyes glowed with a simple, unguarded happiness.
"Just like you—"
The words slipped out before Haru could catch them.
Silence fell between them like a dropped glass.
Yue froze. A flush bloomed across her cheeks.
Haru's mind went blank, heat rushing to his ears as he stared straight ahead, suddenly very aware of the way his heart was pounding.
He couldn't take it back.
After a moment that felt longer than it was, Yue shifted closer and rested her head on his shoulder, still holding the flower. She didn't look at him.
He didn't move.
Two hours until the fireworks.
They left the bench and drifted through the festival lights. Lanterns swayed overhead. They talked with strangers, laughed at small things, shared bites of food from paper trays. Yue bought a charm; Haru insisted on paying for another. Their hands brushed once when he passed it to her. Neither mentioned it.
The night air thinned as the crowd thickened, charged with anticipation.
And somewhere between the glow of lanterns and the quiet weight of her against him,
something sparked—small, dangerous, hidden from people's sight.
—
An hour before the fireworks.
They found another spot near the viewing area and sat. Yue kept working through a paper tray of snacks, humming under her breath. Haru leaned back and unlocked his phone.
The first post stopped him.
"God has abandoned us."
Below it—a blurred image of the monster that had surfaced days ago. The top comment read: "Maybe it's an alien?"
He scrolled.
Post after post. Panic dressed up as certainty. Certainty rotting into anger. Some clung harder to faith, insisting salvation would come. Others tore it down with shaking hands. He's not real. He left us. some said It's extraterrestrial. It's punishment. It's evolution.
Another post.
A meme mocking believers.
"If God's real, why did this happen?"
A reply beneath it: "Maybe he got bored and made it for entertainment."
Haru's jaw tightened. His brows drew together. Something heavy settled behind his ribs—anger, confusion, maybe fear. He didn't know which.
The world was unraveling, and everyone was pretending they understood the thread.
"Haru?" Yue's voice snapped him back.
He blinked. The noise of the crowd rushed in again. Lanterns swayed overhead. Someone announced there was only minutes left before the show.
"It's almost time!" Yue grabbed his wrist, smiling, and tugged him off the bench toward the fence overlooking the river—an open view of the sky where the fireworks would bloom.
They squeezed in between strangers and waited.
Then Yue turned to him and, without warning, took both his hands in hers.
Warm. Soft. Trembling.
The countdown began somewhere behind them.
Twenty.
Haru's heart stumbled. He forced a gentle smile, steadying himself.
Fifteen.
Yue's face flushed pink, brighter than the lantern light. She inhaled deeply, like someone about to jump.
"Haru… for the long time we've been together—"
Ten.
Her fingers tightened around his.
Nine. Eight.
He braced himself, pulse roaring in his ears.
Seven.
"Haru…"
Six. Five.
She swallowed.
Four. Three.
—The air shifted.
Two.
"I—"
One.
The fireworks should have exploded. Instead—
The wind slammed forward in a violent surge, whipping hair and clothes sideways. The air in front of them distorted.
Then it cracked.
Not metaphorically.
The sky fractured like shattered glass suspended in midair.
People gasped—confused at first, curious.
Haru didn't. Every nerve in his body screamed.
Danger... He lunged for Yue—Too late.
Something tore through the fracture. A mass of claws and teeth and writhing muscle burst out of the rupture. Its shape was wrong—too many limbs bending at impossible angles.
It collided with Haru first.
The impact lifted him off his feet. Pain detonated across his ribs as he was thrown backward. His fingers slipped from Yue's.
He hit the ground hard, air punched from his lungs.
By the time he forced his eyes open, the monster had blocked his view of her completely.
"yue....." he called out.. spitting blood.
Another fracture ripped open in the sky.
Then another— And another.
The air split again and again like paper tearing under invisible hands. Creatures poured out in droves—snatching, biting, dragging screaming people into the ruptures.
The fireworks began anyway.
Brilliant colors exploded overhead—red, gold, violet—illuminating blood, panic, and shadows twisting across the ground.
The crowd dissolved into chaos.
Screams drowned beneath celebration music that hadn't yet been cut.
Haru staggered up, vision spinning, searching for her—just a glimpse of her sleeve, her hair, anything
But all he saw were monsters flooding the area.
And somewhere beyond the smoke and flashing lights, the same fractures were opening across the world.
At the exact same moment.