And there it was.
A pitch-black shadow, standing just inches away.
Its form was shapeless yet unmistakably there, darker than the dimly lit room, as if it absorbed every ounce of light around it. And then—its eyes.
Glowing. Blood-red.
Two piercing orbs of crimson, staring straight into her soul.
Nezumi's breath hitched, her throat tightening as raw fear surged through her body. Her limbs locked, her fingers trembling at her sides, unable to move. A cold, suffocating dread wrapped around her like invisible chains, rooting her in place.
Then—its head tilted. A slow, unnatural movement. The red eyes burned brighter, unblinking, unrelenting.
Her pulse pounded in her ears, deafening.
Something inside her snapped.
A scream tore from her throat, raw and panicked. She stumbled back, her body acting on pure instinct.
Her hands flailed wildly, reaching for anything—anything—that could serve as a weapon.
Her fingers found a book from Kokoro's desk. Without thinking, she hurled it at the figure.
It passed right through.
The book thudded against the far wall, falling lifelessly to the floor.
Nezumi gasped, her breath coming in frantic, uneven bursts. Her eyes darted back to the shadow, expecting it to move, to lunge at her—
But it didn't. It just stood there. Watching.
Her panic only grew. She grabbed whatever was in reach—a pen, a pillow, a small clock—and threw them one after another, each object slicing through the figure as if it were nothing but mist.
But those eyes…
It was like, they never left her.
Downstairs, the air was warm, filled with the faint hum of the refrigerator and the rich scent of chocolate. Kokoro carefully slid the cake out of the fridge, her fingers pressing against the cool plate.
She smiled softly to herself.
Nezumi always had a sweet tooth—maybe this would help lighten the mood.
She carefully placed the cake on the counter and reached for a knife when—
A scream.
Sharp. Piercing.
Nezumi.
The plate nearly slipped from Kokoro's hands. Her breath hitched, her entire body tensing.
Then she moved.
She didn't think. She didn't hesitate.
The knife clattered onto the counter as she sprinted toward the stairs, her feet slamming against the wooden floor. Every step felt heavier than the last, her pulse hammering in her ears. The hallway stretched before her, feeling longer than it ever had before.
Her mind raced.
Was someone in the house? Did something happen to Nezumi? Was she hurt?
Kokoro, run faster!
She reached the door and shoved it open—
Then—
Stillness.
A deep, suffocating silence.
The shadow was gone.
But something felt wrong.
Kokoro's eyes darted around the room, her breath still heavy from running. The air felt thick, heavy, charged with something unseen. It was as if something had just been there.
She swallowed hard and finally spotted Nezumi.
She was sitting on the floor, surrounded by chaos—a book knocked off the shelf, a pen rolling slowly across the floor, a small clock lying on its side. Her breathing was uneven, her shoulders trembling just slightly.
Kokoro's stomach twisted.
Kokoro (worriedly, stepping inside): "WHAT HAPPENED?! What's wrong? Are you hurt?"
Nezumi didn't answer right away.
She was gripping the bedsheet so tightly her knuckles had turned white. Her eyes were wide, locked onto a single point in the room.
Kokoro followed her gaze.
But—nothing.
Just an empty corner.
A chill crawled up Kokoro's spine.
She turned back to Nezumi, who still hadn't spoken.
Kokoro (softer now): "Nezumi…?"
Nezumi blinked. A few times. As if shaking herself out of a trance.
Then—she forced a laugh.
It was quiet. Uneven.
Nezumi (hesitantly): "I… I think I was daydreaming. It must have been my imagination."
Kokoro frowned.
That didn't sound right.
Nezumi's face was pale. There was something in her eyes—something uncertain, shaken. Her voice was too forced, too light for someone who had *just screamed*.
Kokoro (suspiciously): "Are you *sure*?"
Nezumi hesitated.
A second too long.
Then—she nodded, her lips twitching into something that wasn't quite a smile.
Nezumi: "Yeah… I'm okay. Bring the cake—I'll clean up this mess that I made."
Her attempt at casualness was painfully obvious.
Kokoro exhaled slowly.
She wanted to press further, to ask again. But she knew that look on Nezumi's face. The one that said *drop it*.
So she did. For now.
Kokoro (softly): "Alright… I'll be right back."
She lingered a moment longer before finally stepping back toward the door. But she didn't shut it all the way—just left it open a crack, as if she wasn't comfortable leaving Nezumi alone.
Then, she turned and made her way downstairs.
The sound of her footsteps faded.
Silence settled over the room once more.
Nezumi remained on the floor, staring at the scattered objects around her.
Her hands were still shaking.
She exhaled. Inhaled. Tried to calm the erratic beating of her heart.
It was nothing.
It had to be nothing.
Slowly, she reached down, picking up the fallen book. Her fingers brushed against the floor, cool against her skin.
She swallowed.
But then—she hesitated.
A pressure lingered in the air.
Heavy. Wrong.
Her breath hitched.
Slowly, her gaze drifted back toward the corner.
Nothing.
But the feeling didn't leave.
Even in an empty room, she still felt watched.
Still felt trapped.
---
----
------
Nezumi was alone in the room. The air felt heavy around her, thick with the remnants of the fear and uncertainty she'd just experienced.
Nezumi sat for a moment, her body frozen in place as she looked at the chaos around her—books out of place, a pen on the floor, the small clock lying on its side. It was so *ordinary*, yet everything felt off.
Shaking her head, Nezumi let out a breath, pushing the unsettling thoughts aside. She knew she had to focus, had to move forward.
Slowly, she began to clean up, picking up the books and carefully arranging them back on the shelf, her fingers lingering over the pages as if grounding herself in the normality of the task. The clock went upright again with a soft click, and the pen was picked up and placed neatly on the desk. She cleaned every surface, each task giving her a tiny sense of control, a small piece of comfort.
By the time Kokoro returned, carrying the tray with cake and chocolate milk, the room felt quieter, still.
Kokoro (grinning): "I present to you—the best combo in existence. Cake and chocolate milk. I figured you could use something sweet to cheer up."
Nezumi looked up, her lips curling into a soft smile, the weight in her chest slowly lifting. Kokoro was always so thoughtful.
Nezumi (grinning): "You really do know how to make a girl feel better."
Kokoro placed the tray on the bedside table with a flourish, then sat down beside Nezumi on the bed.
Kokoro (teasing): "Oh, stop it. You know I'm just here for the cake. But I'll let you think you're the reason I brought it."
Nezumi chuckled, her hand reaching for the slice of cake. She took a bite and closed her eyes, savoring the sweetness. For the first time that night, she felt like herself again.
Nezumi: "This is perfect. Seriously, this cake is—wow."
Kokoro (mocking a serious tone): "I know. I'm pretty much a genius. It's my secret talent. I should start charging for these desserts."
They both burst into laughter. The sound echoed around the room, a warmth that seemed to fill the space and chase away the lingering shadows. Nezumi leaned back against the pillow, looking at Kokoro with affection.
Nezumi (grinning): "You really are something else."
Kokoro (smirking): "I know. I'm amazing. But you're welcome."
The light teasing and gentle jokes continued as they ate, the tension from earlier melting away like the cake in their mouths. It was so easy, so comfortable, to be with Kokoro like this. Every bite of cake, every sip of chocolate milk, felt like a reminder of the normalcy, of the safety, they had together.
After a while, Kokoro wiped a bit of cake frosting from the corner of her mouth and looked at Nezumi.
Kokoro (playfully): "Oh no, you've got frosting on your face. Right there."
Nezumi blinked. "Where?" She swiped at her mouth but missed.
Kokoro rolled her eyes. "You're hopeless."
She leaned forward and wiped the frosting from Nezumi's cheek with her thumb, her touch gentle.
Nezumi's heart skipped a beat, though she hid it with a playful roll of her eyes.
Nezumi: "You're such a *mom* sometimes."
Kokoro (mock offense): "What? Excuse me? I'm not that old! I'm still young and vibrant!"
Nezumi laughed again, shaking her head.
Nezumi: "Sure, sure. *Super* young."
They both fell into quiet laughter, sharing a moment of pure, uncomplicated joy. The earlier fear seemed distant now, like a bad dream they could shake off with each other's company.
As they finished their cake, Nezumi stretched out lazily, a thoughtful expression crossing her face.
Nezumi: "Hey, you know what? We should go out. To a café. Just for a bit. We've been inside all evening, and I could use a change of scenery."
Kokoro raised an eyebrow. "A café? At this hour?"
Nezumi: "Why not? I'm in the mood for a cozy café, some coffee, and just—being out for a while. Plus, I *really* need to see if the café's pastries are better than this cake."
Kokoro (laughing): "Well, I can't let that challenge slide. Alright, let's go. Midnight café vibes it is."
Nezumi's eyes lit up, and she stood quickly, already excited. "Yes! I knew you'd say yes."
Kokoro shook her head with a smile, standing up and grabbing her jacket from the chair. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood tonight, or I might've refused. But since I'm such a great friend, I'll indulge you."
With that, they slipped into their jackets, grabbing their bags as they headed toward the door. The cool night air greeted them as they stepped outside, the city streets bathed in the soft glow of streetlights.
Side by side, they walked down the quiet streets, the night stretching out ahead of them. For the first time in hours, Nezumi felt a sense of peace wash over her. With Kokoro by her side, nothing felt impossible.
As they reached the corner, Kokoro glanced over at her.
Kokoro (smiling softly): "You know, you're right. We really needed this. I think we both needed to get out."
Nezumi smiled back, feeling the weight lift off her shoulders. "Yeah, I think so too."
They continued down the path, the sound of their footsteps blending with the night as they made their way toward the café. For now, the shadows had faded.
And for the first time in a long while, Nezumi truly felt like she was exactly where she needed to be.
---
*****
A/N: why does it feel lesbian????.
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