Souta screamed.
Not because of pain.
Not because of fear.
Because of the sound.
Kuroda's hand released a burst of noise—not normal noise. This was sharp, distorted, something that bent the air and stabbed into his mind like a needle made of glass.
Souta clutched his ears, but it didn't help. The sound wasn't entering through his ears anymore. It was inside him. Crawling through his head like a parasite.
Behind him, Toru tried to scramble up the ladder. But the metal steps rattled violently, throwing him off balance.
"Kuroda!" Souta shouted, his voice cracking through the storm of sound. "Why me? What do you want from me?!"
Kuroda tilted his head. His smile widened.
"You are… unbroken," he said softly. "So rare. So perfect. Fear is not enough for you. You resist it. You try to understand it. That… makes you mine."
Suddenly, he raised both hands. The world shifted.
The trees around them twisted. The moon vanished. The ground pulsed like it was alive.
And then—
They weren't in the forest anymore.
---
Souta opened his eyes.
He was standing in his school.
Empty. Silent.
But wrong.
The windows were cracked. The walls bled ink. The clocks ticked backward.
He turned—his classroom door stood open. A single note was nailed to the frame.
"Face the echo."
A figure moved inside the classroom.
Souta stepped forward. Slowly.
Inside, a younger version of himself sat at the desk. Crying.
He remembered this moment. The day his best friend died in an accident. The day he started fearing everything.
The younger Souta looked up. His eyes were black. Empty.
"You left me here," he whispered. "You ran away from the pain."
Souta swallowed hard. "I was a kid. I didn't know how to handle it."
"You still don't," the younger version said. "You pretend to be brave. But you're just waiting to break."
Souta shook his head. "I'm not pretending. I am afraid. But I'm not running anymore."
The younger version smiled—then melted into black feathers that flew into the air and disappeared.
Suddenly—
A door appeared behind the desk.
Souta walked through it without thinking.
---
He was back in the forest.
Reality snapped back like a rubber band.
He gasped for breath.
Toru grabbed him. "What the hell just happened? You vanished for a full minute!"
Kuroda was gone. No trace of him. Only the faint smell of ozone and the eerie silence of the trees.
Souta wiped sweat from his face. "He dragged me into a memory. A fake one. Or… maybe not fake. Just twisted."
Toru looked pale. "He's pushing deeper into your mind now. That's not good. If he takes over your memories…"
"I'll stop being me," Souta finished. "I know."
Toru looked him dead in the eye. "Then we need to turn the game around. Make him afraid of you."
Souta blinked. "How?"
Toru pulled something from his backpack.
A small metal cube. Black. Etched with glowing lines.
"This is called a Resonator. It can absorb the frequencies he uses. Like recording them. But we need to let him attack again."
"Let him attack?" Souta frowned. "That's insane."
"I didn't say it was safe. I said it was necessary."
---
That night…
Souta returned home, the Resonator under his bed.
He didn't sleep. He just waited.
At 2:47 a.m., the air turned cold.
His window creaked.
His phone buzzed.
Unknown Number: "Shall we continue?"
He didn't reply.
He whispered to the Resonator, "Record."
Suddenly—
Kuroda's laughter echoed across the walls.
Then silence.
And then—thousands of whispers.
All in different voices.
His parents. His friends. His teachers. Strangers. All whispering his name.
"Souta… Souta… Souta…"
But he didn't break.
He clenched his fists and shouted into the air:
"Do it! Show me everything!"
The walls cracked. The ceiling pulsed. His room twisted.
But he didn't scream.
He stood his ground.
The Resonator glowed brightly—capturing it all.
And then—silence.
Kuroda's voice came soft.
"…Interesting."
And then he was gone.
---
The next morning...
Toru examined the Resonator.
"It worked. We got something."
"What does that mean?" Souta asked.
"It means… we might have a way to trap him."
Souta looked at the black cube in Toru's hand.
And for the first time in days…
He felt hope.
---
To be continued…