She set his hand back on the mattress.

Careful.

She sat back on her heels and pressed both hands flat against her thighs.

Looked at the ceiling.

Held there for a moment.

Then her gaze dropped.

Back to him.

Still asleep.

Mouth slightly open.

Unaware.

She looked at his lips.

Soft.

Exposed.

Right there.

Her finger moved before she stopped it.

It touched his lower lip.

Warm.

She pulled back at once.

Her hand closed into a fist and pressed hard against her own mouth.

Her eyes stayed on him.

Wide.

Bright.

Too focused.

Control.

She held that word in place.

Her breathing slowed.

Didn’t steady.

Hana.

The memory came without permission.

Hana rising onto her toes.

Eyes closing.

Her grabbing his sleeves.

Leaning in.

His lips meeting hers.

The color in his cheeks when she pulled back.

That stayed in her chest, like a dagger.

She needed to overwrite that.

Shizuka leaned forward.

Stopped.

Held there.

Just once.

He wouldn’t know.

He couldn’t know.

It wouldn’t change anything.

She moved.

Up onto the bed.

Careful.

Not touching him.

Her weight held on her hands and knees above him.

Her hair fell forward, silver strands framing his face, enclosing the space between them.

She looked down at him.

His lashes.

His jaw.

His mouth.

She lowered herself slowly.

Closer.

His breath was warm against her lips.

Closer.

His eyes opened.

.

.

Shizuka stood at the stove in a white apron tied over her crop top and skirt, her silver hair pulled back loosely, a ladle in one hand.

She was humming something low and tuneless.

The kitchen smelled good.

Kaito sat at the table with his phone.

He stared at Hana’s contact for a moment.

Then he opened their message thread and typed something casual.

hey, you coming to uni today? btw, Last night was amazing. Thanks for the treat. Next time it’s on me.

He sent it and put the phone face down.

He had a plan. Go to university. Act normal.

Text her like normal.

By noon, if she still hadn’t replied and wasn’t in class, he would start worrying out loud.

Until then he needed to hold it together.

He looked at the phone.

He picked it up.

No reply.

He put it back down.

He picked it up again.

Still nothing.

He set it down harder this time.

He was not holding it together very well.

"Stop looking at it," Shizuka said without turning around.

"I’m not."

"You have picked it up four times in two minutes."

He put his hands flat on the table.

Kept them there.

The not-knowing he was performing was already exhausting, and it was barely eight in the morning.

He wanted to go to the hospital.

He wanted to see her face and know, not guess.

"I’m going to go check on her," he stood.

"No."

"Just quickly. I’ll be back before—"

"Kaito."

Shizuka turned around.

The ladle was still in her hand.

Her chin was set.

Her eyes were steady.

"You have a cracked rib. Your spiritual energy is at a third. You are not leaving this house."

"I heal fast."

"You heal fast compared to ordinary humans. You are still battered." She turned back to the stove. "Sit down."

He stayed where he was and looked up at the ceiling.

He could not go to the hospital and act like he didn’t know she was there.

He could not explain why without telling her about the ghost, the rooftop, the possession. None of that was possible right now.

He looked at Shizuka’s back.

"Make a deal with me," he said.

She turned her head slightly.

"I won’t leave the house," he said, "if you go and get me pictures of her. Current ones. So I can see she is actually fine."

A pause.

Shizuka turned back to the stove.

"Fine," she said.

"Now."

"The rice needs two more minutes."

She finished cooking. She left the food on the stove and took off the apron and hung it on the back of a chair.

"I will be back soon," she said. "Go brush your teeth."

She grabbed his phone and her jacket.

"The big circle button in center right?"

"Yes," Kaito said.

She nodded once.

Then she was gone, out through the living room window beside the kotatsu.

He sat at the table alone for a while.

Then he went and brushed his teeth.

Washed his face. Came back to the kitchen. Sat down.

He breathed in slowly.

Out.

His thoughts drifted back to the night before. The rooftop. Hana. Sora.

The ghost’s voice. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

Shizuka was back before he finished his tea.

She set the phone on the table in front of him and sat across from him, pulling her chair in.

He picked it up.

Opened the photos.

The first one was Shizuka.

Too close. One eye cut off. The frame tilted. Her nose slightly stretched by the angle. Her brow pulled tight, lips pressed together, staring directly into the camera like it had personally offended her.

He scrolled.

Another Shizuka.

Better framing this time, but her eyes were half closed and the image blurred from movement.

Then Hana.

The first one was blurred, taken through a window from outside. Light caught on the glass. A bed. A figure.

He leaned closer.

Scrolled.

Another.

Still soft, but he could make out her hair against the pillow. Her arm above the sheets. Sleeping.

He scrolled again.

The next one was clear.

She was on her side, facing the window. Eyes closed. Color in her face. A nurse in the background. Morning.

He let out a slow breath.

She was fine.

Actually fine.

He scrolled once more.

Shizuka.

Too close. Crooked. A leaf on her nose.

He stared at it.

A sound slipped out.

"—kh."

He pressed his lips together.

Another one.

"kh—"

He turned his head, shoulders tightening, trying to hold it in.

Didn’t work.

"khh—"

"What."

Shizuka stood in the kitchen doorway, ladle still in her hand. Her eyes were on him.

"Nothing." He turned the phone face down.