Chapter 3

  Mina hesitated in the doorway, her gaze still fixed on Haruto. There was a tension in the air, a lingering weight from their earlier conversation that neither of them could shake. After a moment, she sighed and stepped back into the room, crossing over to sit next to him on the edge of the bed.

  “Haruto,” she began quietly, her voice softer now, almost hesitant. “You keep saying we have a responsibility. But… are you sure about this? Are you absolutely certain that what’s happening in the Dreamscape is connected to these comas?”

  Haruto met her gaze, his eyes steady and filled with quiet determination. “I don’t know everything yet,” he admitted. “But I can’t ignore the signs, Mina. The way those people described their symptoms—it’s too similar to what I’ve felt, what we’ve both seen. Detached from reality, overwhelmed by something they can’t explain. It can’t be a coincidence.”

  Mina bit her lip, her expression conflicted as she looked down at her hands, folded tightly in her lap. “It just… it doesn’t feel real,” she murmured. “We’re talking about saving people from some… shadow world, using powers we barely understand. It’s like something out of a dream—or a nightmare.”

  Haruto nodded slowly, understanding her hesitation. “I get it. It’s a lot to take in. But we’ve seen what’s out there, Mina. We’ve faced it together. And if there’s even a chance we can help… don’t we have to try?”

  Mina was silent for a long moment, her thoughts clearly racing as she struggled to reconcile the fear and doubt in her heart. Finally, she let out a slow breath, her shoulders sagging slightly as she gave him a small, resigned nod.

  “Alright,” she said softly. “I’ll help. I don’t know what we can do, but… I’ll try.”

  Relief washed over Haruto, and he offered her a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Mina. I don’t think I could do this alone.”

  She gave a faint smile in return, though her eyes still held a trace of worry. “Just… promise me you’ll be careful, okay? We don’t know what we’re dealing with, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  Haruto nodded, the weight of her words settling over him. “I promise.”

  Mina stood, stretching slightly before heading toward the door. “I’m going to bed,” she said, her voice quiet but steady. “We’ll figure out what to do tomorrow.”

  As she left the room, Haruto sat back, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The promise he’d made to Mina felt like a heavy burden, but also a source of strength. He couldn’t afford to falter—not when so much was at stake.

  Igor’s words echoed in his mind, a quiet reminder of the path he had chosen, the bonds he would need to forge, and the strength he would need to find within himself. Could he really be the hero the world needed? Could he bear the weight of others’ struggles, guiding them through the darkness of the Dreamscape?

  The questions hung heavily in the air, unanswered but persistent. As Haruto lay back on his bed, the faint glow of the crystal pulsing gently in his pocket, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was truly ready for what lay ahead—or if the world was ready for him.

  With a deep breath, he closed his eyes, letting the quiet of the night envelop him as he drifted into a restless sleep, his dreams filled with shadows and the faint, echoing voice of a promise yet to be fulfilled.

  Morning came quietly, the soft patter of rain tapping against the windows. Haruto and Mina left the house in silence, each lost in their own thoughts as they made their way to school. The air was cool and damp, the streets glistening with fresh rain. Mina walked slightly ahead, her pace brisk, as if trying to shake off the lingering tension from the night before.

  The school day passed uneventfully. Haruto kept to himself, his mind drifting between the mundane routine of classes and the weighty thoughts of the Dreamscape. He exchanged few words with anyone, his usual reserved nature making it easy to blend into the background. The hours dragged on until, finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of the day.

  As the rain continued to pour, Haruto stood under the school’s overhang, watching as droplets cascaded down from the roof. He waited patiently, hoping the rain would let up soon. Mina had already left, deciding to make a dash for the subway rather than linger. The sound of footsteps approaching drew his attention, and he glanced to the side as a girl walked up and stopped next to him, shaking her umbrella slightly before folding it.

  She turned toward him, her eyes curious. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before,” she said, her tone friendly yet mildly curious.

  Haruto met her gaze, his usual quiet demeanor making him hesitate for a moment before responding. “I’m new,” he said simply. “Haruto Ishida.”

  The girl nodded thoughtfully, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Haruto, huh? I’m Nao Takahashi.”

  Haruto gave a polite nod in return, noting the easy confidence in her posture, the warmth in her expression. Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail as two loose strands rested on either side of her face. She stood with astute posture as her school uniform fit her form perfectly.

  “I’m surprised you don’t know me,” Nao continued, her tone light and teasing. “My mom runs a coffee shop in town—Takahashi Café. Pretty popular, actually. And my dad… well, he stays at home. He’s been struggling with a disease for a while now.”

  Haruto’s eyes flickered with quiet sympathy at her mention of her father, but before he could respond, a voice called out from across the courtyard.

  “Hey, Nao!”

  They both turned to see a boy jogging toward them, his bright smile and lively demeanor standing out against the gloomy weather. Haruto recognized him instantly—it was the same rough-looking teen he had bumped into on his first day, the one with the sharp gaze and confident stride. His black, fluffy hair bounced slightly as he jogged over.

  The boy reached them quickly, his energy palpable as he threw an arm onto Nao’s shoulder with an exaggerated grin. “What are you doing, hiding from the rain with this guy?” he teased, jerking his thumb toward Haruto. “What’s the deal? You two dating or something?”

  Nao’s eyes widened in disbelief, and without missing a beat, she slapped his arm away, a sharp smack echoing under the overhang. “Don’t be ridiculous, Shinji!” she snapped, though her irritation seemed more playful than serious. “We just met.”

  The boy—Shinji Tanaka—grinned, rubbing his arm where she had hit him. He turned to Haruto, his eyes bright with curiosity. “Oh, so you’re the new guy, huh? Haruto, right?”

  Haruto nodded, observing Shinji’s easygoing nature with a mix of amusement and caution.

  “Man, you’re quiet,” Shinji remarked, leaning in slightly as if to get a better look at him. “I saw you that day in the hall when you were with the principal. Thought you looked kind of serious. Guess I was right.” He laughed, a carefree sound that seemed to fill the space around them.

  Nao rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “Shinji, you’re such an idiot sometimes,” she muttered, though there was a fondness in her tone. She glanced back at Haruto, her expression softening. “Sorry about him. He’s harmless, really. Just… a bit much.”

  Shinji puffed out his chest, clearly unbothered by the jab. “Hey, I’m just here to keep things interesting,” he said with a grin. “Someone’s gotta keep you all from being too serious all the time.”

  Haruto couldn’t help but smile faintly at the exchange. Despite Shinji’s brashness, there was something genuine about him, a warmth that was hard to ignore.

  The rain continued to fall, but for a moment, the gloom of the day felt a little lighter, the presence of these two strangers bringing a surprising sense of normalcy to Haruto’s otherwise quiet and introspective world. He watched them bicker playfully, feeling a strange pull toward their dynamic, as if they might be more important to his journey than he could yet understand.

  Shinji tilted his head, watching Haruto with a lopsided grin. “Man, you really don’t say much, do you? What’s the deal? Cat got your tongue or something?”

  Nao shot him a sharp glare, crossing her arms. “Shinji, knock it off. It’s rude to comment on stuff like that.” She turned to Haruto, her expression softening as she added, “Sorry about him. He doesn’t really have a filter.”

  Shinji threw up his hands defensively. “What? I’m just trying to get the guy to open up. Gotta break the ice somehow!”

  Nao rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, you’re about as subtle as a freight train. Seriously, Haruto, don’t mind him. He’s dumb.”

  Shinji feigned a look of mock offense, clutching his chest dramatically. “Dumb? Come on, Nao, I’m not dumb! I’m… uh…” He paused, clearly struggling to come up with a defense.

  Nao smirked, raising an eyebrow. “See? Hopeless.”

  Shinji scratched the back of his head sheepishly, then turned his attention back to Haruto with an earnest smile. “Alright, fine, maybe I’m not the brightest, but I’m a fun guy to have around. Hey, Haruto, if you ever want to hang out, I know a great spot in town. Cool place to just chill, grab a bite, you know?”

  Nao sighed, shaking her head with an exasperated smile. “Shinji’s always like this with new people. They haven’t had the chance to get tired of him yet.”

  “Hey!” Shinji protested, though the grin never left his face. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a small scrap of paper, scribbling something down. “Here,” he said, handing it to Haruto. “My number. Call me whenever. We’ll hit that spot and get you properly introduced to the best parts of this town.”

  Nao rolled her eyes again, but there was a fondness in her exasperation. She pulled out her phone and held it out to Haruto. “Here, give me your phone. Might as well make it official.” Haruto handed it over, and Nao quickly entered her contact information. She handed it back with a smile. “There you go. Consider us your first friends since moving here.”

  Haruto looked down at the new contact info in his phone, a small, genuine smile playing on his lips. “Thanks,” he said quietly, appreciating the gesture more than his reserved demeanor let on.

  The rain had started to lighten, the downpour tapering off into a gentle drizzle. Nao glanced up at the sky and nodded. “Looks like it’s clearing up. I should probably head out.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Shinji added, stretching his arms over his head. He gave Haruto a thumbs-up. “Don’t be a stranger, alright? We’re not gonna let you be the mysterious quiet guy forever.”

  With that, the three of them split ways, Shinji and Nao heading off in different directions. Haruto stood under the overhang for a moment longer, watching them go. The quiet drizzle of rain filled the air, but the encounter left a warmth lingering in his chest. For the first time since arriving in Hikone, he felt a little less alone.

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  Pocketing his phone, he stepped out into the light rain, ready to head home. The day had brought unexpected connections, and though he didn’t yet know where these new friendships would lead, he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were just the beginning of something bigger.

  Haruto arrived home just as the last light of the day faded, the quiet hum of the rain still lingering in the air. The house was dim and silent, the only sound coming from the TV in the living room. He stepped inside, noticing Mina on the couch, her knees drawn up as she stared blankly at the screen. Her usual composure seemed absent, replaced by a tense, almost restless energy.

  He dropped his bag by the door and walked over, taking a seat next to her. She didn’t acknowledge him, her eyes fixed on the TV where another news report blared. The anchor’s voice was grave as they detailed another coma case.

  “This marks the seventh victim found in unexplained comas, all reporting similar symptoms of anxiety, fatigue, and detachment from reality prior to their collapse. Authorities are still searching for answers, but no leads have been found.”

  Haruto glanced at Mina, noticing how rigid she had become, her hands clenching tightly in her lap. She seemed lost in thought, her gaze distant and unfocused. He nudged her gently, trying to pull her back to the present.

  “Mina,” he said softly.

  She blinked, turning to look at him, but something was off. Her eyes were clouded, as if she were somewhere far away. For a moment, she said nothing, then forced a small, unconvincing smile. “I’m fine, Haruto. Really.”

  Haruto frowned, concern etched into his features. “Are you sure? You seem… different.”

  “I said I’m fine,” she repeated, her voice firmer but lacking conviction. She stood abruptly, avoiding his gaze. “I’m just tired. I’ll be okay.”

  Before he could say anything more, she walked away, leaving him alone with a heavy sense of unease.

  At dinner, Chiharu arrived late, her face weary from the long day at work. She joined them at the table, offering a tired smile as she sat down. Haruto noticed Mina across from him, her head lowered, her body tense. She barely touched her food, her fork idly pushing rice around her plate.

  Chiharu glanced at her, concern creeping into her voice. “Mina, are you alright? You’ve been quiet all evening.”

  Mina’s grip on her fork tightened, and her eyes snapped up, filled with sudden frustration. “I’m fine, Mom! Just… leave me alone!” she yelled, her voice cracking with emotion.

  Chiharu flinched, taken aback by the outburst. Before she could respond, Mina stood, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. She stormed away, disappearing down the hall and slamming her bedroom door behind her.

  Chiharu looked helplessly at Haruto, her face a mixture of shock and worry. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her,” she murmured. “She’s never acted like this before.”

  Haruto offered a small, reassuring smile. “It’s not your fault. I’ll go check on her.”

  He stood and made his way down the hall, stopping in front of Mina’s door. He knocked softly. “Mina? It’s me.”

  There was no response. He waited a moment, then slowly pushed the door open. The sight of her hit him like a punch to the gut. She was sitting on her bed, her face buried in her hands, her shoulders shaking as quiet sobs wracked her frame.

  He stepped inside, closing the door gently behind him. Without a word, he sat next to her, letting the silence stretch between them. Finally, Mina lowered her hands, her eyes red and swollen from crying.

  “I don’t know what’s happening to me,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I don’t feel… like myself. It’s like I’m watching everything happen from a distance, and I can’t stop it. I don’t even remember what happened earlier today.”

  Haruto’s heart sank as her words echoed the symptoms described in the news reports—the detachment, the loss of control. It was all too familiar.

  “Mina…” he began carefully, “have you been feeling… off for a while? Like things are slipping away from you?”

  She nodded, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “I’ve been trying to ignore it, hoping it would go away. But it’s getting worse, Haruto. I don’t know what to do.”

  Haruto felt a chill run down his spine. These were the exact symptoms the news described before victims fell into comas. Mina was on the edge of something dangerous, something that had already claimed others.

  “You’re not alone in this,” he said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll figure it out together. I promise.”

  Mina looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and desperate hope. “Do you really think we can stop it?”

  Haruto nodded, though the weight of his own uncertainty pressed heavily on him. “Yes. But we need to be careful. We need to understand what’s happening before it’s too late.”

  For a moment, they sat in silence, the gravity of the situation settling around them. Haruto knew the Dreamscape held the answers they needed, but the risks were growing. He couldn’t let Mina fall victim to the same fate as the others. This time, it was personal.

  The hours crept by in a tense silence, the weight of Mina’s confession hanging heavily in Haruto’s mind. He couldn’t shake the image of her crying, the fear and helplessness in her eyes as she described feeling like a spectator in her own life. It was more than unsettling—it was terrifying. The symptoms were too similar to ignore, and he knew time was running out.

  When the clock struck midnight, the air in his room seemed to shift, growing heavier as the familiar glow of the crystal illuminated the darkness. Haruto sat up, his hand trembling slightly as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the small, pulsating stone. It radiated warmth, its light flickering like a heartbeat, steady and insistent.

  Without hesitation, Haruto approached the mirror. He pressed the crystal against its cool surface, watching as the glass began to ripple and distort, shifting like the surface of a still pond disturbed by a single drop. The reflection blurred and twisted, and Haruto felt the now-familiar pull, drawing him into the depths of the unknown.

  The transition was smoother than before, but as Haruto emerged on the other side, he immediately sensed something was different. The Velvet Room’s calming, ethereal glow was absent, replaced by dim, flickering lights that cast long shadows over the ornate surroundings. He found himself standing in what appeared to be an old, grand theater. The air was thick with the scent of dust and aged wood, the faint echo of distant applause lingering in the background.

  Haruto’s gaze swept over the room, taking in the intricate details—the crimson curtains framing the stage, the ornate moldings along the walls, and the plush red seats that stretched out into the darkness. It was an elegant yet eerie setting, filled with a sense of nostalgia and decay.

  He took a cautious step forward, his footsteps muffled by the rich carpet beneath him. The theater was empty, save for the flickering lights and the faint sound of distant applause that seemed to beckon him deeper inside.

  Long hallways stretched out from the main foyer, their walls lined with posters. Haruto moved closer, studying the faded images. His breath caught in his throat as he recognized the face staring back at him from each one—Mina.

  In every poster, Mina was the star of various plays and musicals, each title scrawled in elegant, looping letters. But something about the images felt off. They depicted her not as he knew her, but as a caricature—exaggerated and twisted. Each version of Mina looked desperate, her eyes wide and pleading, her smile strained and artificial. The titles of the plays were equally unsettling: “Needy Girl,” “Desperate for Applause,” “The Approval Seeker.”

  Haruto’s stomach twisted as he moved from one poster to the next, each one hammering home a message that felt deeply personal and cruel. The realization hit him like a blow—this theater was a reflection of Mina’s innermost fears and insecurities, a dark manifestation of her struggle for validation and self-worth.

  The faint applause grew louder, drawing him toward the main auditorium. The heavy doors creaked open as he stepped inside, revealing a grand stage illuminated by a single spotlight. The seats were filled with an audience, but as Haruto’s eyes adjusted to the dim light, he noticed something horrifying—all of the audience members were faceless. They sat in perfect rows, their hands clapping mechanically, their blank heads nodding in eerie synchronization.

  Haruto’s gaze shifted to the stage, where a figure stood in the spotlight, bowing gracefully. His heart clenched as he recognized her—Mina.

  She was dressed in an elaborate gown, her face painted with a porcelain-like mask of serene contentment. The applause swelled as she straightened, holding her arms out to the faceless crowd.

  “Thank you, thank you,” she gushed, her voice echoing through the theater. “You’re all too kind! I couldn’t have done it without your approval. I live for your praise, your adoration!” Her voice wavered, growing more frantic. “Without you… I’m nothing!”

  Haruto’s breath caught in his throat as he watched her, the desperation in her voice cutting through him like a knife. This wasn’t the Mina he knew—this was a distorted version of her, consumed by the need for validation, trapped in a cycle of performance and approval.

  As she bowed one final time, the applause crescendoed, filling the theater with a deafening roar. Haruto covered his ears, the sound overwhelming. Mina turned on her heel and began to walk offstage, her movements graceful yet robotic, as if she were being guided by invisible strings.

  Haruto’s instincts kicked in, and he rushed forward, calling out to her. “Mina! Wait!”

  She didn’t respond, disappearing behind the curtains as the applause suddenly stopped, plunging the theater into an eerie silence. Haruto quickened his pace, running up the steps to the stage and pushing past the heavy curtains. On the other side, he found himself in a maze of narrow corridors, the walls lined with more posters of Mina, each one more unsettling than the last.

  He followed the winding hallways, his heart pounding with urgency. The walls seemed to close in around him, the air thick and suffocating. Finally, he reached a set of stairs leading upward. He climbed them two at a time, the creaking wood beneath his feet adding to the growing sense of dread.

  At the top, he found another hallway, this one longer and darker, the posters on the walls nearly faded into obscurity. At the end of the hallway was a door, identical to the one he had entered earlier. Haruto approached it cautiously, placing his hand on the handle, but it refused to budge.

  Locked.

  He tried again, pulling harder, but the door remained firmly shut. Frustration gnawed at him, but beneath it was a deeper understanding—this wasn’t a door he could open alone. The theater, the faceless audience, the distorted version of Mina on stage—it was all a reflection of her inner turmoil. And if he was going to help her, he needed her by his side.

  Haruto stepped back, his mind racing. Mina was the key, but she was lost somewhere in this twisted reflection of her own insecurities. He couldn’t do this without her, and she couldn’t break free without facing the truth of what had brought her here.

  Taking a deep breath, he turned back the way he came, determined to find her and bring her back. Together, they would unlock the door and face whatever lay beyond.

  As Haruto retraced his steps through the maze of narrow corridors, the dim, echoing silence of the theater weighed heavily on him. Every poster he passed, every unsettling image of Mina’s desperate, exaggerated smile, reminded him of the darkness they faced. He could still hear the eerie applause echoing faintly in his mind, mingling with Mina’s hollow, haunting words: “Without you… I’m nothing!”

  Just as he neared the exit, a familiar blue light shimmered in the corner of his vision. Haruto turned to see the door to the Velvet Room, standing incongruously in the middle of the dark hallway, its elegant carvings and glowing symbol of a butterfly giving off a faint, otherworldly aura.

  The door opened, and a figure stepped out—a woman with striking silver hair and a serene smile. Lizzy, Igor’s assistant, gave him a polite bow, her gaze calm and steady. “Haruto,” she greeted, her voice gentle yet authoritative. “My master wishes to speak with you. Please, follow me.”

  Haruto nodded, his heart pounding as he followed her through the doorway and into the familiar, blue-lit realm of the Velvet Room. The dim glow bathed everything in a tranquil, dreamlike hue, and the soft hum of the train beneath his feet felt strangely comforting.

  Igor was seated at his usual desk, his long, spindly fingers steepled together, his intense gaze fixed on Haruto as he entered. He nodded in acknowledgment, his expression inscrutable yet tinged with something like approval.

  “Welcome back, Haruto,” Igor said, his voice resonant, carrying an air of authority that filled the room. “I see that you have encountered what we call a palace—a structural manifestation of a person’s deeply buried insecurities and truths, those aspects of themselves they refuse to confront.”

  Haruto’s eyes widened as he absorbed Igor’s words. A palace… the twisted theater he had found himself in, with Mina’s image plastered across its walls and halls—it was a physical representation of something she couldn’t admit.

  “In Mina’s case,” Igor continued, his gaze sharp, “the palace reflects her need for validation and approval, though she refuses to acknowledge it. She suppresses this desire, hiding it from herself, but it festers within her heart, shaping itself into a distorted reality within the Dreamscape.”

  Haruto took a slow, steadying breath, the weight of Igor’s explanation sinking in. “So… that’s why she’s like this? She can’t accept that part of herself?”

  Igor nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Precisely. And because of this denial, her palace has formed into a place where she is constantly praised, yet never fulfilled—a stage upon which she is always performing, seeking the approval she denies craving. But there is more.” Igor’s gaze grew darker, his voice taking on a serious tone. “You must help her confront this truth. To do so, you must bring her to the locked door you encountered, for only she has the power to open it. She must face what lies beyond.”

  Haruto clenched his fists, a new determination filling him. “And when she opens it… then what?”

  “Then she must confront her shadow self—the twisted version of herself that embodies all of her suppressed desires, fears, and self-doubt,” Igor explained. “She will have to accept that this part of her exists and acknowledge its truth. Only by facing it and accepting it as part of herself can she overcome this palace and prevent it from consuming her.”

  Haruto swallowed, his heart pounding. “And if she can’t?”

  Igor’s gaze grew cold, his expression unyielding. “If she cannot bring herself to accept her shadow, the palace will remain intact, trapping her within it, leaving her vulnerable to the fate that befalls all who reject the truth.”

  He paused, his voice lowering to a somber tone. “Those who continuously deny the parts of themselves they cannot accept inevitably fall into a coma, trapped in a place of their own making. Their shadow selves grow stronger, feeding on their refusal to acknowledge the truth. And once the shadow has full control, it will consume them completely, extinguishing what remains of their consciousness.”

  A chill ran down Haruto’s spine as Igor’s words sank in. This was no mere nightmare or passing illness—those people who had fallen into comas were trapped in their own palaces, tormented by the parts of themselves they feared most, their lives hanging by a thread.

  Igor’s gaze softened slightly, though his tone remained grave. “Haruto, if you wish to save Mina, she must face and defeat her shadow self. Only by confronting it, accepting its truth, and destroying its twisted influence can she dismantle her palace and free herself from this cycle.”

  Haruto felt a surge of resolve. He couldn’t let Mina fall victim to this twisted world, couldn’t let her be consumed by her own insecurities and fears. She needed him, needed someone who understood, someone who would stand beside her in the darkness.

  “Understood,” Haruto said firmly, meeting Igor’s gaze. “I’ll bring her to that door, and I’ll make sure she confronts her shadow. I won’t let her be trapped in that place.”

  Igor inclined his head, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I have high expectations for you, Haruto. The bonds you forge, the strength you gain from those connections—these will guide you through the trials that lie ahead. Remember that true strength comes from acceptance, both of oneself and of those we care for.”

  Igor’s gaze held Haruto’s for a long moment, his eyes gleaming with a quiet wisdom. “Our time together comes to an end once more,” he said, his voice soft yet resolute. “But I am certain we shall meet again soon. Until then, Haruto, remember what you have learned here, and let it guide you.”

  With a final nod, Igor’s form began to blur, the room around Haruto dissolving into shades of blue and gray as he felt himself being pulled back, the gentle hum of the Velvet Room fading away as the darkness claimed him.

  Haruto blinked, finding himself back in the theater’s dim hallway. The posters of Mina’s smiling face stared back at him, their exaggerated expressions a haunting reminder of the task ahead. He clenched his fists, determination burning within him. Mina’s life was at stake, and he wouldn’t allow her to fall victim to her own insecurities and fears.

  He retraced his steps, weaving his way back through the theater’s labyrinthine corridors, his mind racing with Igor’s instructions. This palace wasn’t just a place— it was a manifestation of Mina’s pain, her hidden desire for validation, her fear of being unseen, unacknowledged. And if she couldn’t accept that part of herself, then this world would consume her.

  As he reached the main entrance, Haruto took a steadying breath. He had seen the first signs of these symptoms in Mina, the detachment, the forgetfulness, the feeling that she was losing control. If they didn’t act soon, it would only grow worse, pulling her deeper into this place, trapping her in a nightmare of her own making.

  He couldn’t wait any longer. He would bring her here, stand by her side, and help her confront her shadow. It was the only way to break free, the only way to save her.

  With renewed resolve, Haruto exited the theater, his mind focused on the mission ahead.