Nightmares That Linger
The rain hadn't stopped.
Rei sat on the edge of his futon, staring at the faint glow of his oil lamp. His hands rested on his knees, fingers slightly curled, but his body was stiff, too stiff, as if one wrong movement would shatter him.
He hadn't slept properly in weeks.
Every time he closed his eyes, the whispers returned.
At first, they were distant, mere echoes in the wind. But as the days passed, they grew louder, creeping closer. They slithered through the cracks in his walls, coiled around his ears, and murmured things he couldn't understand, things he didn't want to understand.
And then there were the dreams.
The lake. The hands. The silence.
Haruki's fingers slipping from his grip. The water swallowing him whole.
The moment replayed over and over again, never changing.
Except tonight, it did.
Rei found himself standing at the edge of Yomiga Lake once more. The rain fell heavier than before, drumming against the earth like a thousand fingers tapping in unison. His breath came out in short, shallow bursts, fogging the air before him.
The lake was still. Too still.
And then...he saw him.
Haruki stood at the shoreline, facing the water. His clothes were soaked, sticking to his skin, but his posture was unnaturally rigid.
"Haruki!" Rei called out, his voice hoarse.
Haruki didn't turn.
Rei took a step forward. His heartbeat pounded in his skull. "Haruki..."
A creaking sound filled the air, like the snapping of old wood.
Slowly, stiffly, Haruki turned his head.
Rei's stomach lurched.
Haruki's face was wrong. His eyes were dull and lifeless, his mouth barely parted as if frozen mid-breath. Water dripped from his hair, his fingers, his lips. His skin was too pale, too cold , like something that had been pulled from the depths of the lake and left to rot.
And then...
Haruki smiled.
His lips stretched too wide.
A gurgling sound crawled from his throat. His arms twitched at his sides. His body lurched forward.
Rei jerked awake.
His breath hitched as he bolted upright, his lungs burning. His eyes darted wildly across the room, searching for any sign of it, but there was nothing.
Just the rain.
Just the whispers.
They curled around his ears, gentle yet suffocating.
"Come back."
Rei pressed a trembling hand against his face. His skin was clammy, ice-cold. He could still feel Haruki's gaze, still see that smile.
He had to do something.
Sitting here, drowning in nightmares, wasn't going to bring him answers.
If no one else would acknowledge what was happening, he would.
He would return to the lake.
And this time, he wouldn't leave without the truth.
A Trail of Secrets
The next morning, Rei gathered everything he had on Yomiga Lake.
The few newspapers he had managed to find barely mentioned the disappearances. They only described them as "tragic accidents" or "unfortunate drownings." It was as if the town itself had buried the truth, erasing all traces of what lurked beneath those waters.
But not everything had been erased.
There were whispers.. just like the ones that haunted him at night.
Rumors passed down in hushed voices. Warnings spoken by the elderly but ignored by the young.
"Don't go near the water after dark."
"If you hear whispers in the rain, don't listen."
"The lake remembers."
Rei's fingers tightened around the edge of a faded newspaper clipping.
A single name stood out.
"Matsuda Satoru – the last survivor."
An old fisherman. The only known person to have seen something in the lake and lived to tell about it.
Rei exhaled, setting the paper aside. If Matsuda Satoru was still alive, he might be the only one who could give him real answers.
And if not...
Rei's gaze shifted toward the rain-streaked window.
Then he would go back to the lake himself.
Matsuda Satoru's house sat at the far edge of town, near the docks. It was small, worn by time, the wood darkened by years of storms and sea air. The wind howled through the narrow alleyways, carrying the scent of damp earth and salt.
Rei knocked twice.
Silence.
Then, slow, shuffling footsteps.
The door creaked open just enough for an eye to peer through. It was milky with age, the skin around it wrinkled and thin.
"I don't do interviews," the old man rasped.
"I'm not a journalist," Rei replied. His voice was steady, but his hands curled slightly at his sides. "I need to know about Yomiga Lake."
A pause.
The door opened wider.
Matsuda Satoru was smaller than Rei expected... thin, hunched, his frame swallowed by a loose robe. But his eyes, though aged, still held sharpness.
"I was hoping I'd never hear that name again," he muttered. He studied Rei for a moment before stepping aside. "Come in."
The room smelled of old wood and burning incense. Fishing tools lined the walls, and an old kettle whistled softly on the stove.
"You lost someone, didn't you?" Matsuda asked as he settled onto a low cushion.
Rei hesitated. Then, quietly, "Yes."
Matsuda sighed. "Then you should know this.."
"Nothing that is taken ever comes back."
Rei's fingers dug into his knees. "But you survived."
The old man's expression darkened. He turned his gaze to the small altar in the corner of the room, where faded photographs rested beneath dim candlelight.
"I didn't survive," he murmured. "I was left behind."
Rei waited, silent.
Then, Matsuda began to speak.
He spoke of a night much like the one Rei had experienced.
The whispers. The stillness. The feeling of something lurking just beneath the water.
"I was young, reckless," Matsuda muttered. "We were just boys...six of us. We thought the stories were nonsense. So we went to the lake after dark, laughing, daring each other to step closer."
His voice grew quieter.
"Only I came back."
A deep, heavy silence settled between them.
Rei swallowed. "What did you see?"
Matsuda's fingers trembled as they gripped his teacup. He took a slow breath before speaking.
"A face," he whispered. "Beneath the water. Watching. Smiling."
Rei's blood turned cold.
Matsuda met his gaze, his expression grim.
"The lake is not just cursed," he said. "It is hungry."
Rei's grip on his sleeve tightened. "Then how do I stop it?"
The old fisherman sighed, shaking his head. "You can't."
But Rei refused to believe that.
Because if he couldn't stop it...
Then more people would be taken.
And he had already lost Haruki.
He wouldn't lose anyone else.
Not to it.
Not to the whispers in the rain.
Rei stood frozen outside Matsuda Satoru's house, the old man's words circling in his mind like a curse.
"Nothing that is taken ever comes back."
"The lake is not just cursed. It is hungry."
The rain had finally stopped, but the silence it left behind was far worse. The air was thick, suffocating, as if the very night was pressing down on him, waiting ,watching. Even the distant hum of the town had vanished, leaving only an eerie emptiness.
His fingers curled into fists.
He had spent weeks searching for answers, drowning himself in old records, chasing whispers of forgotten tragedies, watching the lake from afar as if daring it to show him its secrets.
But it was always the same.
Everyone in this town knew something, yet no one dared to speak the full truth. Even Matsuda Satoru, the only person who had given him anything close to an answer, had spoken in riddles.
"Nothing that is taken ever comes back."
Haruki wasn't dead.
Rei refused to accept that.
His mind replayed that night over and over again ,Haruki's desperate, terror-stricken eyes, his outstretched hand, the cold, rotting fingers that dragged him into the abyss.
If Haruki had simply drowned, his body would have been found by now.
But there was nothing.
No body. No trace. No closure.
Because the lake wasn't just water.
It was something else. Something alive.
Something waiting.
Rei exhaled sharply, his breath unsteady. His pulse pounded in his ears. He turned toward the road leading out of town.
The path back to Yomiga Lake was burned into his memory. He had walked it once before. He had stood at the water's edge, foolishly believing he was an observer in someone else's nightmare.
But he was wrong.
He wasn't an observer. He was already part of it.
And this time, he wasn't going to watch from the shore.
He was going to step into the nightmare himself.
Because if the lake had taken Haruki…
Then it was time for him to take something back.
The wind picked up, rustling the trees with a sound almost like a whisper. A warning.
But Rei had already stopped listening.
Tomorrow night..he was going back.
And this time, he wouldn't leave empty-handed.