The sun was already high by the time Raito stirred.
Golden light leaked through the curtains, casting warm lines across the floor of his room. The alarm clock on his nightstand blinked back the number: 10:03 AM.
He sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. His movements were sluggish, uncharacteristic. Normally he would've been awake at least three hours ago. But today… something felt off.
Dragging himself out of bed, Raito padded into the kitchen. A small note stuck to the fridge fluttered in the light breeze from the slightly open window.
"I'm taking the bus to school today. You looked tired. -Raika"
He stared at the handwriting for a moment, then let out a quiet breath.
"Good call," he murmured.
It saved him a drive and gave him time to recalibrate. Something he clearly needed.
He walked to Emi's room next, gently easing the door open. The baby was awake, lying in her crib with a pacifier in her mouth, kicking her tiny feet against the blankets. She looked up at him with bright, curious eyes.
"Looks like your all awake."
She cooed in response.
Then came the voice.
"I know why you woke up late today," Kurai said, almost smug in his usual purring drawl. "It's flaring up again, isn't it?"
Raito closed his eyes for a moment and took a slow breath through his nose.
"Yeah. I know."
There was no need to clarify. Kurai already understood.
The weight in his chest. The dull hum beneath his skin. The invisible itch behind his calm expression. His urge to kill—that deep, predatory thrum that came and went, sometimes dormant for weeks, sometimes pulling him out of balance with no warning at all.
When it flared, he always woke up feeling heavy. Disoriented. Like part of him was already moving toward bloodshed while the rest of him tried to pretend everything was fine.
"It always messes up my mornings," Raito muttered, picking Emi up carefully.
"A beast's rhythm doesn't care about alarm clocks," Kurai mused. "But you know what this means, don't you? That feeling inside you… it's telling you something."
Raito walked back to the kitchen with Emi, preparing a bottle with one hand while balancing her in the other.
"I know," he said. "It's a sign."
"A sign that it's time to kill again." Kurai chuckled low in his mind. "It's in the pact, Raito. You keep feeding the demon, and I keep giving you power. You don't get to coast forever."
Raito didn't reply. He simply gave Emi her bottle and sat down on the couch with her, the TV flickering silently in front of them. Some morning show was playing reruns of a cartoon, bright colors flashing across the screen. Emi gurgled softly as she drank.
Raito's gaze remained fixed on the television, but his mind was far away.
The tension inside him hadn't faded—it pulsed like a second heartbeat.
And somewhere deep within the pit of his soul… something whispered.
Something waited.