The world was on fire again.
Obi stood in the scorched remains of his family home, the flames licking at the walls like hungry mouths. Smoke stung his eyes, thick and suffocating, but not enough to mask the coppery stench of blood.
His legs trembled as he stepped into his parents' bedroom.
There—on the bed—lay two pristine white plates.
His mother's and father's heads rested neatly on them, apple slices stuffed in their mouths, their eyes gouged out and replaced with drilled pits. The grotesque display was staged like a holiday dinner, perverse and mocking.
Obi stumbled back, breath caught in his throat. A muffled sound behind him turned his stomach cold.
He turned.
Kobi's body—his little brother—was crumpled on the floor, guts spilled out like red ribbons. And crouched beside him, hands dripping, was Kanou. Her mouth and cheeks smeared with blood, gnawing mindlessly, her eyes blank.
"No..." Obi whispered, sinking to his knees. "No, no, no…"
Suddenly, Kobi's corpse moved.
The disemboweled body sat up slowly, eyes cloudy but alive with pain. His voice was low, broken.
"You could've saved us."
Obi flinched, choking on a sob. "I—I couldn't... There was nothing I could do, Kobi. I swear—"
Kobi stepped toward him, his bare feet leaving bloody prints on the floor. Obi braced for more blame, more grief—but instead, Kobi's arms wrapped around him.
A hug. Solid. Warm.
"I know," Kobi whispered. "It's not your fault."
Obi collapsed into the embrace, sobbing so hard he could barely breathe.
"You should've died with us," Kobi added gently, without malice. "But you didn't. Stupid luck."
"I didn't want to live," Obi rasped. "I still don't."
The fire roared louder around them, but Obi didn't feel afraid. Only numb. Empty. Peaceful.
Then—light.
Blinding, brilliant light behind Kobi. Two silhouettes emerged: their parents. His mother reached out, her face soft with that familiar tired smile. She gently took Kobi's hand.
Kobi looked back at Obi, reluctant. "They're calling me now."
The scene shifted suddenly—flames vanishing into white nothingness. Pure. Endless. Obi stood there in the quiet glow, surrounded by warmth. It was almost enough to make him forget the pain.
His mother stepped forward, cupping his face in both hands. Her touch was exactly as he remembered—warm, gentle, safe.
"My sweet boy…" she whispered, brushing away one of his tears with her thumb. "You don't have to carry this forever."
Obi's lips trembled. "Why me?" he asked. "Why did I survive? You all died... and Kanou—she's changed. She's not even—she's not her anymore."
His mother shook her head. "You couldn't have stopped it. It was already too late. But you're still here… and that means something. I'm happy you lived, Obi. That was enough. We don't blame you."
Then his father stepped up behind her, placing a strong, steady hand on Obi's shoulder.
"Live," his voice rumbled. "Even when it hurts. Even when it's easier to give up. Live for us."
Obi broke. "I don't want to go back," he cried. "I don't want to feel this again."
His mother leaned in, pressing her forehead to his. "You'll feel pain," she said. "But you'll also feel love. That's how we live on through you. And Kanou… she needs you now. More than ever."
Obi shook his head. "But I'm not strong—"
"You are," she interrupted softly. "You're my son."
She kissed his forehead.
Then she stood and turned toward the light, gently taking Kobi's hand.
"Wait—no! Please! Come back!" Obi cried out.
Kobi glanced over his shoulder, adjusting his crooked glasses with a familiar sad smile. "Hope you don't join us too soon, dumbass. Tell Kanou I said hi."
And with that… they stepped into the light.
Obi screamed after them—
But when he opened his eyes, all he saw was the pale, sterile glow of a hospital ceiling.
And the empty space where his family used to be.
---
Beep... beep... beep...
The slow, rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor pulled him from the depths.
Obi's eyes fluttered open, lashes sticky with dried tears. The fluorescent ceiling lights were hazy halos, but the real light—warm, golden sunlight streaming in from the window—was blinding. He turned his face slightly away, eyes stinging.
There were tubes in his arm. Something cold and plastic pressed against his mouth and nose. He was breathing through an oxygen mask.
For a fleeting moment, he felt it again—the ghost of his mother's hand brushing his cheek, gentle and warm like when he was little and had nightmares. But it was gone before he could hold onto it.
His vision slowly adjusted.
Pain rushed in.
A white-hot stab through his ribs, shoulders, and side, like someone had carved through him with jagged glass. He was bandaged from chest to waist, the fabric already stained slightly pink in places. Every breath pulled tight against the stitching. But the pain wasn't the worst part.
No.
That was the weight.
The crushing, suffocating heaviness in his chest.
He blinked hard, tears spilling silently down his cheeks. He tried to sit up, arms trembling with the effort. His body screamed at him to stop—but he had to move, had to know.
That's when the door creaked open.
A nurse stepped inside, holding a clipboard. She looked up, startled to find him awake—and crying.
"Oh—you're up," she said gently, rushing over. "Hey, hey, take it easy."
Obi barely registered her words. His voice was hoarse and broken when he muttered through the mask, "W-Where… where am I…?"
"You're in Shibuya General," she said, her tone calm but watchful. "You were brought here two nights ago. You've been unconscious since."
His lips trembled. He grabbed at the mask with shaking hands, ripping it off even as his lungs wheezed in protest. "Where's Kanou?" he croaked. "Where is she?"
The nurse hesitated, lowering her clipboard. Her expression softened, and something about that made Obi's heart lurch.
"She… she's the one who brought you in. A girl dropped you off, then left. She looked—" the nurse paused, as if weighing her words, "—guilty. Haunted, maybe. We didn't get her name."
Obi's breath caught. "That had to be her. Kanou… she saved me…"
The nurse's expression darkened slightly. "I'm sorry, Mr. Takahashi. We looked, but... we couldn't find her."
"No..." Obi shook his head, defiant despite the pain. "She's still out there. I have to go. I have to find her."
He threw the blanket off and tried to swing his legs over the bed, but the moment his feet touched the cold floor, his legs buckled. Pain lanced through his side and he collapsed against the bed with a sharp gasp.
The nurse rushed forward and caught him just in time. "Obi, no! Stop—please!"
"I can't stay here!" he yelled, voice cracking. "She's alone out there. She's—she's not okay—"
"Obi," she said firmly, guiding him back to the bed. "You've been unconscious for two days. You've got multiple stitches, cracked ribs, second-degree burns, and you haven't eaten a bite. Not to mention—" she held up a chart "—you barely survived monoxide poisoning. You'll collapse again before you even reach the hallway."
He clutched the sheets, tears dripping onto the white blanket. "But she needs me…"
The nurse exhaled, softer now. "And you need help too."
Obi stared down at his trembling hands. They looked like someone else's—bruised, scarred, helpless.
"How do you even know she's real?" the nurse asked gently. "You were found alone in the wreckage. What if it was… a hallucination? Trauma can do strange things to the mind."
His heart cracked in two. For a long moment, Obi didn't speak. The weight of it all—the fire, the screams, the blood, Kanou's face twisted in agony—threatened to swallow him whole.
The nurse must've seen it. She reached out, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder—only for Obi to flinch with a sharp wince. She immediately pulled back, regret flashing across her face.
"Sorry," she murmured. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
He shook his head, eyes distant.
"You've been through more than most people could imagine," she said quietly. "It's hard to know what's real when you've come that close to the edge. But I promise… if your sister's out there, we'll find her."
She stood up, her voice returning to that gentle professionalism. "I'll bring you something warm to eat in a bit. Try to rest."
Obi didn't respond. He just stared out the window, barely seeing the cityscape beyond the glass.
A whisper escaped his cracked lips.
"…Where are you, Kanou?"
---
Darkness.
The only light was a pale sliver cutting through the cracks in boarded-up windows. The rest of the abandoned building was dead silent, save for the occasional groan of its ancient frame.
Down in the basement—beneath peeling concrete and mold-streaked walls—Kanou lay curled in a tight ball on the floor. The air was thick with rot, old rust, and something worse. The stench of vomit.
She was shaking.
Surrounded by crumpled wrappers, torn plastic, and half-eaten food she had immediately puked back out. She'd tried everything—ramen packets, a candy bar, stale bread—anything to kill the gnawing in her gut.
But it all tasted like filth.
Like rotting fabric soaked in sewer water.
She sat up on trembling limbs, forehead slick with sweat, and reached for another chocolate bar—hands shaking like a leaf in the wind. She unwrapped it clumsily and shoved it into her mouth, chewing slowly, desperately.
For a second, she thought it might work.
Then her stomach turned violently.
She gagged, choking, and vomited everything in a painful heave onto the concrete beside her.
"D-Dammit," she whispered hoarsely, clutching her middle. Her voice cracked, barely recognizable. "Why... why does it all taste like dirty rags…"
She leaned back, pressing her head against the cool cement wall, breath rattling.
Two days.
She hadn't eaten in two days.
But even before that… nothing normal had stayed down. Her body rejected everything.
Everything but—
She froze. A bitter taste crept into her mouth.
Kobi.
His blood, his flesh—it had tasted better than anything.
Warm. Pure.
Sweet.
Addictive.
And Obi…
Obi had tasted divine.
The memory hit her like a whip. Her lips trembled, the phantom sensation of his blood still lingering like a sin branded into her tongue. Her jaw tightened.
"I shouldn't have saved him," she muttered. "I shouldn't have…"
Then she stopped.
Her own words echoed back at her like a curse.
Her bloodshot eyes widened. "What am I saying…"
She stared at her trembling hands. Veins bulged unnaturally beneath her skin. Her fingertips ached. Her teeth throbbed.
"I killed Kobi," she whispered, voice hollow. "I—I tore him apart. And Obi... I almost ate him."
She slammed her fists into her head, biting down a scream.
"What the hell is wrong with me!?"
She stumbled up to her feet and staggered a few steps forward—then collapsed again with a grunt. Her legs were too weak. Her body was failing. Her hunger wasn't going away. It was getting worse. It had started whispering to her.
Not in words. In cravings.
Tears welled up and spilled over, hot and silent. They streaked down her grime-covered face and fell into the mess at her feet.
"What have I become?" she rasped out loud.
"I killed my little brother... I nearly murdered my big brother… and now I'm sitting here thinking about how good they smelled…"
Her voice broke into sobs.
"I'm a monster. I'm not even human anymore. I can't eat. I can't go out in the sun. I—I'm disgusting. I don't deserve to be near Obi. I'll just starve down here… until there's nothing left."
Her shoulders shook. She hugged herself tightly, trying to feel like she still was herself. But it was fading. Fast.
She looked up toward the cracked ceiling, as if the sun—hidden above all that concrete—could hear her.
Her voice, barely a whisper now:
"Obi… if you're awake… please don't come looking for me."
She closed her eyes, letting the tears fall freely.
"I don't want to eat you. Please… just live."
Her breath hitched. Her voice cracked one final time.
"Don't forgive me. I'm begging you… Obi… hate me."
She curled back up into the corner, arms wrapped tight around her knees, and rocked slowly—waiting for the hunger to swallow her whole.
---
Kanou's breaths were shallow.
The darkness pressed in tighter than before, her body trembling against the cold, sticky floor. The silence was deafening—until—
A hand.
Small. Warm.
It cupped her cheek gently.
Kanou flinched, her eyes snapping open—and there he was.
Kobi.
His black curls were as vibrant as she remembered. His brown eyes sparkled, almost glowing in the dark. His skin looked flushed with life, his cheeks round with color. And he was grinning—like a little trickster—like he always did when he snuck the last rice ball and blamed it on her.
"K-Kobi…?" her voice cracked, barely believing it. "How…?"
"Hi, sis," Kobi said, in that same giggly, boyish tone. "Whatcha doin' down here?"
Kanou's mouth opened, but nothing came out. Her throat closed up.
"I thought…" her voice shook. "I thought I killed you."
Kobi shrugged casually. "You did."
Her chest caved in with guilt. "Then… then why are you here?"
"I'm not really." He sat cross-legged in front of her like it was a sleepover. "I'm just a figment of your messed-up imagination. Basically a hunger-and-trauma-induced hallucination. Congratulations—you've officially hit rock bottom."
Kanou let out a weak breath. Her back hit the wall again as she slumped. "So… you're not real."
"Nope." He popped the "p." "All this? Totally in your head."
"Great," she muttered. "Let me guess—you're gonna say everything will be fine and dandy if I just go back to Obi. And we'll be one big, happy, bloody family again."
Kobi's smile faded. He didn't say anything.
Kanou's voice hardened, rising with the storm inside her. "Let me remind you, hallucination—I'm a demon now. I eat people. I killed you. I ripped you open and ate your insides like some kind of animal."
Her voice cracked but she pushed through it.
"Mom and Dad are dead. Obi almost died because of me. And you're here acting like this can all be fixed with a hug and a plate of curry!"
Her fists slammed into the ground. She curled back into a ball, teeth gritted, tears spilling again.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "It's just… you being here… it hurts so much. Please… just go. Please leave me alone."
Kobi didn't move for a long moment. Then, quietly, he crawled toward her and wrapped his arms around her head like he used to when they hid during storms. She couldn't feel the warmth—but the shape of his embrace, the rhythm of his words, it felt real enough.
"Kanou…" he whispered. "I'm not here to tell you it's all going to be okay. 'Cause it's not. It won't ever be the same."
She shook under his arms, silent.
"But I'm not mad," he said softly. "Why would I be? I'm dead. And I know it wasn't your fault."
He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes.
"You're gonna stay down here for a while, I know. You think you're protecting the world from yourself. But one day—when you finally start to believe you're still you—please visit Obi."
Kanou's lip trembled. "I can't face him."
"Too bad," Kobi said with a smirk. "Mom would kill you if you bailed on him after all that."
His body started to flicker—like blue dust on the wind.
Kanou's eyes widened in panic. "W-wait—Kobi—no—don't go—"
"I know, I know," he smiled sadly. "But hey, I'm not really leaving."
He tapped his temple. "I'll always be in here."
Then tapped her chest. "And in here too."
Kanou clutched at the empty air where he'd touched, her breath catching.
As his outline began to disintegrate into glowing particles, he gave one last gentle wave.
"Rest now, Kanou. And remember…"
He smiled—soft and full of love.
"It wasn't your fault."
The final traces of him faded into the dark.
Kanou's head dropped to the ground, her limbs going limp with exhaustion. Her breathing slowed. The hunger still twisted in her gut, but something deeper inside her—something broken—had finally gone quiet.
For the first time in days, her face wasn't twisted in agony.
She fell into unconsciousness.
And on her lips, there was the faintest ghost of peace.