The gate's lock creaked softly as it closed behind them. Megumi zipped her jacket up to her neck. The cold on that street felt different. It wasn't just the air—it was as if the ground beneath the house held the chill.
Yuta stopped three steps from the front door.
He said nothing.
Just stood there, eyes fixed on the aged wood, his body faintly tense.
Megumi noticed. She stopped beside him and followed his gaze.
"What's wrong?"
Yuta raised his hand slightly, signaling for silence. His eyes didn't blink. His breathing slowed.
The air around the house seemed to hum, but not aggressively. It was something deeper. Embedded in the walls.
He closed his eyes for three seconds.
'Two presences.'
The first… was close. Weak, but present. Like a constant whisper, clinging to the walls.
'Passive. Familiar. Not a curse.'
The second… came from another part of the house. A jagged pulse, a fractured energy. Like a living memory, poorly digested. The vibration ebbed and flowed, like a cracked mirror struggling to hold its shape.
'Fragmented. Unstable. But not aggressive yet.'
Yuta opened his eyes slowly.
He turned to Megumi.
"There are two presences inside. One seems to be waiting. The other… I don't know what it wants."
Megumi didn't respond.
She just hugged her arms tighter to her body.
Yuta placed a hand lightly on her shoulder. His fingers firm, his voice low.
"Stay close to me. Don't touch anything until I say."
She nodded with a quick jerk of her head.
A streetlight flickered behind them. The metallic hum of a transformer echoed for a second, then faded.
Yuta approached the door. He reached for the knob but paused a centimeter before touching it.
'It's not like before. Not a curse…'
The smell seeping through the cracks was of old wood, bitter tea, and incense that no longer burned.
Megumi stood a step behind, her eyes locked on his hand.
Yuta touched the knob.
The door opened on its own. Slowly. Without sound. Without a creak.
Yuta lifted his chin slightly.
'She's waiting.'
The curtain by the side window swayed again.
The living room's light cast a partial shadow over the entrance.
Yuta took the first step.
Megumi followed.
Yuta walked to the edge of the living room. He stopped before crossing the rug.
He tilted his head slightly.
"Excuse me."
Mrs. Katō's eyes were turned to the side, as if still speaking to someone invisible.
"Oh…"
She turned her head with effort.
"Megumi?"
The girl hurried forward, her steps short and controlled.
"Hi, Grandma. This is Yuta. A friend from school."
Yuta gave a slight nod. His eyes, however, were slightly averted—fixed on a specific spot to the left of the armchair.
There, leaning casually as if he'd never left, was an old man.
He didn't smile. Just watched.
A light button-up shirt, arms crossed behind his back. Nearly all-white hair. His gaze… quiet. But attentive.
Yuta didn't react.
'He sees. Doesn't speak. Just observes.'
He pretended not to notice.
Megumi knelt beside the chair, gently touching her grandmother's hand.
"Are you feeling better today?"
The old woman smiled. A faint, tired smile, but present.
"With you here, I always do."
Her voice was low, with small pauses between words. But still firm enough not to sound confused.
Yuta finally stepped into the living room, crossing the rug. The spiritual warmth intensified slightly.
He glanced at the side hallway. Narrow. The light off.
That's where he felt the fracture.
'It's not just a presence… it's a piece of someone.'
There was no clear form. No face. But the fractured energy was there—squeezed into the hallway like a cracked mirror wedged into a living wall.
Its pulse was different from the old man's. This one throbbed wrongly. As if hiding, but alert. As if waiting… or guarding something.
Yuta felt a weight settle on his chest for a moment. Not an attack. But not a welcome either.
'She's exhausted… and that thing's feeding on it.'
He turned back to the old woman. The old man's presence seemed to envelop her carefully. His energy was weak but stable.
'He's protecting her. Keeping the other thing at bay. But it won't last long.'
Megumi squeezed her grandmother's hand tighter, her eyes catching every detail.
"You haven't been sleeping well, have you?"
The old woman hesitated. Then smiled, looking away.
"Oh, I'm old, Megumi. Sleep's for those with time."
Megumi didn't smile. Her eyes were hard, serious.
"You're lying."
Silence fell like a heavy blanket over the room.
Mrs. Katō didn't respond. Her hand stopped moving.
"Something's doing this to you."
Megumi's voice was low but firm.
"Is it because of him?"
She looked at the corner of the room. There was no one—for her.
But the old man was still there.
The grandmother took a deep breath but didn't answer.
Megumi turned to Yuta.
"Can you do something for her?"
The question was raw. Unfiltered.
The old woman let out a low chuckle. Weak, but real.
"Is he a doctor now? Much younger than the clinic ones."
Yuta took half a step forward, meeting her eyes.
"Actually… you could say I'm a different kind of doctor."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Oh? What kind?"
"A spiritual doctor. Exorcist, sorcerer… depends on what's going on."
'All of them, depending on the night.'
The old woman stared at him for a few seconds. Then laughed again, but her eyes didn't follow.
Yuta shifted his gaze slightly, back to the hallway.
"You're being protected."
His voice was direct, clear.
"The spirit here with you isn't the problem."
The armchair creaked as Mrs. Katō adjusted herself.
"What… what do you mean?"
"There are two. One's with you. The other's hiding in that part of the house."
Yuta nodded faintly toward the hallway.
"The one sitting there… is trying to keep the other at bay."
The old man, leaning against the wall by the armchair, turned his head slowly. His eyes met Yuta's for the first time since he entered.
"Who are you?"
The voice didn't come from a mouth. It echoed directly in Yuta's mind.
Yuta kept his tone internal.
"Someone your granddaughter called."
The old man didn't blink. But for the first time, he moved. Uncrosed his arms and stood upright. The motion made no sound. Just weight.
Megumi sensed the dense silence and stepped closer to Yuta, her arm brushing his lightly.
"Are you talking to someone now?"
Yuta nodded once, eyes still on the space to the grandmother's right.
"With him. Your grandfather."
Mrs. Katō's eyes widened slightly.
"…You can see him?"
Yuta nodded again.
"Yes. And he's not the concern."
She brought a hand to her mouth, as if to hold back some emotion. Then looked at the empty space beside the armchair. Her eyes trembled.
"So it was him all this time…"
Yuta breathed slowly.
"The other… it's deeper in there. It feeds on emotional exhaustion, denial, loneliness. It grew while he stayed here."
The old man turned his head slowly, now looking at the hallway. His expression tensed.
Megumi pressed closer to Yuta. Her arm touched his.
"What do we do now?"
Yuta didn't answer immediately.
The grandmother raised her voice, trembling.
"Can you… get that thing out of here?"
Yuta looked at the hallway again. The energy there seemed more restless now. As if it knew they were talking about it.
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