The alarm buzzed harshly, tearing through the silence of dawn.
Akira groaned and sat up, his chest tight, his mind still fogged by fragments of last night's dream—the storm, the mark, and that shadowed man in the grey coat.
The light slipping through his curtains looked warm, gentle even, but to him it felt heavy.
He rubbed his face, stood, and went through the motions—washing up, tying his shoes, slinging his bag over his shoulder. Everything about the morning felt ordinary, yet his heart refused to calm down.
On the way to the station, Akira's mind drifted again and again to that man—the one with the grey coat.
He had only seen him once, but the memory refused to fade.
Those cold, distant eyes. That stillness. Like someone who didn't belong to this world.
The streets were busy as usual—vendors shouting, students rushing, the scent of steamed buns wafting from a nearby stall. Akira barely noticed. He reached the platform and leaned against a pillar, waiting.
Ren's late again, he thought with a faint smile.
He watched the trains come and go, the rails glinting under the soft sunlight. His reflection on the train window looked pale, haunted. He let out a breath. "Who was that man?"
"Talking to yourself again?"
Akira turned, startled. Ren stood there, grinning, hair messily sticking out from under his hood.
"You look dead, man," Ren teased. "Didn't sleep?"
"Barely."
"Still thinking about that weird guy?"
Akira hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah… there's something about him. I can't explain it."
Ren laughed, slinging an arm around his shoulder as the train approached. "You're gonna end up solving ghost mysteries at this rate. Chill out, detective."
They boarded, the train rattling along the tracks, morning sunlight flashing across their faces. Ren kept scrolling through his phone.
"Hey, rumor time," he said, half amused. "People say some creepy dude in a grey coat's been hanging around the east platform at night, talking about shadows and light or something. Maybe it's your guy."
Akira frowned. "You're joking."
Ren shrugged. "Just gossip. Forget it."
But Akira couldn't forget. Even through class that day, his thoughts drifted back again and again to that man. The way his gaze had felt—cold but pleading. Like he knew something terrible.
By the time the final bell rang, Akira felt drained. He and Ren packed up and walked out under the crimson evening sky, the wind sharp with the scent of approaching rain.
"Weekend soon," Ren said. "Let's hit the arcade. You need a break."
Akira nodded absently. "Yeah. Maybe."
They reached the railway station just as the crowd thickened. Voices buzzed, and the sound of trains roared beneath the announcement speakers. Then, the noise began to fade. People were gathering around a screen near the ticket counter, their faces pale.
"What's going on?" Ren asked, pushing through.
The television flickered, showing a news report.
> "Breaking news. A man in his late forties was found dead near East Railway Station earlier this morning. Authorities describe the scene as extremely violent—his lower body organs were discovered separated from the torso, and his face severely crushed. The victim was last seen wearing a grey coat…"
Akira froze. His breath hitched, eyes widening.
The words stabbed into him like ice.
Ren turned to him. "Akira… isn't that—?"
The screen shifted to a blurred photo of the scene. Officers surrounded a darkened patch of ground. Amidst it, something strange glimmered—a black object, smooth and oval, faintly pulsing with light.
Akira's stomach twisted. He knew that shape. He had seen it in his dream—the same object that had appeared near the man before everything went dark.
Ren whispered, "That thing looks alive…"
Akira didn't respond. His hands trembled, guilt curling in his chest.
He whispered under his breath, "I saw him… before this happened."
Ren frowned. "What do you mean?"
But Akira couldn't answer.
The black object on the screen seemed to stare back at him. Somewhere deep inside, a whisper echoed: This isn't over.
---
Far away, another train pulled into the city.
A girl sat by the window, chin resting on her hand as she gazed outside. The reflection of the city lights shimmered in her eyes.
Hoshikage Rina had returned after years away.
"It feels different," she murmured, voice soft. "But… still the same."
When the train stopped, she stepped onto the platform, her suitcase rolling behind her. The air carried the faint scent of rain, and the city buzzed with the evening rush. She took a slow breath, taking it all in.
Then, across the platform, she saw two familiar silhouettes—Akira and Ren, walking side by side.
Her heart skipped.
She hadn't seen them since middle school, but she recognized them instantly. Without thinking, she called out:
"Akira! Ren!"
They turned, startled.
Ren blinked, then his face lit up. "Wait… Rina? Hoshikage Rina?"
She laughed, the same gentle laugh she used to have. "Yeah. It's me."
"No way!" Ren said, grinning wide. "You disappeared after graduation! What are you doing here?"
Rina adjusted her bag, smiling warmly. "My father got transferred here for work, so we moved back."
Akira finally spoke, his voice quiet but sincere. "You came back."
Their eyes met for a moment—just long enough for old memories to stir: laughter after school, rainy afternoons, sunlight on the soccer field.
Ren broke the silence. "So you're not here to visit your grandparents?"
Rina shook her head. "No. This time, it's permanent."
Ren gave a low whistle. "Wow. Guess fate wanted to reunite us, huh?"
They all laughed, and for the first time in days, Akira's heart felt light again. The station lights shimmered above them, and for that brief moment, everything felt right.
But then—
> "Your smiles won't last long on your faces."
The voice was cold, deep, and close.
Their laughter died instantly.
Akira's blood ran cold. He turned sharply, scanning the empty space behind them.
No one was there. Just flickering lights, a few passengers in the distance, and the hum of a departing train.
Ren frowned. "Did you hear that?"
Rina's eyes darted nervously. "Yeah… who said that?"
Akira stayed silent, his pulse hammering.
The voice felt familiar—eerily familiar. Like something that had crawled straight out of his dream.
Rina touched his arm. "Akira, you okay?"
He nodded stiffly. "Yeah… maybe I'm just hearing things."
Ren tried to laugh it off. "Probably some station creep. Come on, let's get out of here before it gets weird."
As they walked toward the exit, the city's neon lights painted their faces in shifting colors. Rina chatted about her move, Ren joked about school, and Akira forced himself to smile along.
But deep down, his mind wouldn't stop replaying that whisper.
Your smiles won't last long.
When he caught his reflection in a puddle, his expression looked distant, almost hollow. And just before they reached the gate, another faint whisper curled in his ears—so soft he almost doubted it was real.
> "It begins with you, Akira."
He froze for a second, eyes scanning the crowd. Nothing.
Only Ren and Rina, laughing ahead of him.
He took a shaky breath and followed. But the unease in his chest refused to fade.
Something was watching them.
And deep down, Akira knew—the nightmare wasn't over.
It was only beginning.