CHAPTER ONE
episode one

It was a rare day for Rika—one so rare it pulled her out of her cold, dark apartment, away from the small comforts that made her home hers. The thought of leaving the safe space she'd cultivated for herself felt almost foreign.

She hated going outside. That was the simplest way she could put it. Everything she did, everything she was, resided within the confines of her apartment complex. Her job, her books, her hobbies—all contained within the green walls and covered windows, as if the outside world had nothing to offer her.

When she woke that day, the dim light muted through the edges of her blackout curtains, she dragged herself from the warmth of her thick comforter, eyes still heavy with the weight of an endless, restless night. She rubbed them, trying to rid herself of the exhaustion that seemed to be embedded in her very bones.

But, as always, she forced herself to her feet. It was what she did. Every day.

She reached for the black hoodie tossed carelessly over her headboard, the soft fabric clinging to her fingers, and slipped it over her arms. The hood fell over her head, the darkness comforting as the pale morning light never fully reached her apartment. The hum of her air conditioner filled the room, a constant, low buzz that drowned out the outside world.

A yawn escaped her lips, stretching her stiff limbs. Her sock-covered feet shuffled over the cold floor toward the small entrance of her apartment, where a worn pair of checkered Vans waited by the door. Slipping them on felt almost automatic, her mind too tired to care about the act.

The night before, she had run out of toothpaste—an oversight, nothing more. Last week, she'd meant to remind herself to go to the corner store, but those thoughts had slipped away into the fog of a dozen hours lost to sleep. Her mind could never seem to hold onto things that required any real effort.

Her eyes flickered toward her desk, where the familiar clutter sat—books she hadn't read, papers she never bothered with, and a nearly empty pack of mint gum beside her computer. She grabbed it without hesitation, tearing open a stick and popping it into her mouth with a contented sigh. The familiar minty sweetness flooded her senses, offering a small, fleeting comfort.

She stretched her arms upward, her body moving like it hadn't in days. Or maybe weeks. Her eyes drifted toward the ceiling, where peeling posters and old stickers clung stubbornly, their edges curling from years of neglect. The space was both suffocating and comforting—everything she needed within arm's reach, nothing more.

Her phone, resting next to the gum pack, lit up with several unread messages.

And they were all from brother dearest.

Daikichi Karube.

Karube was never one to sit in silence, and he certainly couldn't stand it when his sister did. Yet that was exactly what she had been doing these last three months. Sleeping constantly, yet always exhausted. He had to fill the void with something—whether it was his incessant talking, over-the-top jokes, or, like now, his never-ending messages.

With a grumble, she grabbed her phone, scrolling through the messages with tired eyes. The first one was about his latest disaster. Apparently, he'd been fired from his job at the bar. She wasn't surprised. She'd known it was coming. And as usual, instead of reflecting on his actions, he was inviting her to spend time with him and his friends, like he hadn't just blown up his life for the third time this month.

Of course he was fired. Rika thought. I told him not to sleep with his boss's wife, but of course, he didn't listen. Now look at him. She shook her head slightly as she typed a quick response. 'You're ridiculous.'

Without waiting for a reply, she slid her phone into the front pocket of her hoodie. But as soon as it hit the fabric, it buzzed again—pressing lightly against her stomach.

She didn't bother checking it. Besides, she knew Karube would keep sending messages until he got a reaction, but Rika wasn't in the mood for another one of his rants.

Grabbing her wallet and keys from the desk, she tucked them into the pockets of her hoodie, feeling the cool weight of the metal against her skin. There was a small can of pepper spray attached to the chain, which had never been used. Thankfully.

Catching sight of her headphones, she grabbed them— balling them up into her hands.

She stepped toward the door, her gaze lingering on the room. The apartment, the walls, the isolation—everything felt like a strange comfort. But even the thought of it couldn't keep her there forever. She had to crawl of her dark hole at some point. Why not today?

With a final, almost reluctant breath, she locked the door and left, the mechanism clicking shut behind her, leaving her little world of darkness and silence behind.

Rika unfurled the tangled headphones in her grasp, the cord stiff from disuse, and fit them into her ears. She retrieved her phone again, connecting the wires with practiced ease, the soft click of the jack sliding into place barely registering. The screen flickered to life in her hand as she began walking down the empty, dimly lit corridors of her apartment complex. The air was stale, the walls echoing her footsteps as she scanned the next set of messages.

'No, you're ridiculous.' Karube had sent back.

She let out a breath, feeling the tension build in her chest, but kept walking. She really just wanted this to be a short trip, in and out of the store and back home to her bed.

'We'll be at the station. Meet us.'

'Now please.' His final message lingered on the screen, the typing bubble disappearing.

Rika could practically hear his voice in her head —demanding, and always sure she'd cave.

Her phone buzzed again. This time, her brother's partners in crime were adding their voices to the chorus. She glanced at the screen with furrowed brows as a group chat notification popped up. Since when did they add her back to that? She had left it. Several times.

'It'll be fun!' a number she didn't have saved sent, but she easily deduced it was Chota's. The wide-eyed enthusiasm was unmistakable.

'Be there or be square.' Of course, that one was Arisu's. The playful tone was as predictable as ever.

To be fair, the only number she did have saved was Karube's. And one for takeout delivery.

Rika's lips curled downward, a sigh escaping her as the realization hit—she was outnumbered. This wasn't just her little brother anymore; it was the whole damn gang.

She slid into the staircase, the rusted metal railing cool against her palm as she blindly descended. She typed out a quick response with one hand: 'Fine.' It was short, unenthusiastic, but it was all she was willing to give. Which was to be expected from her.

The messages from the group began to flood in almost immediately. A flurry of exclamation points and smiley faces filled the screen, making Rika's eyes roll in response. She was never sure if they were being sincere or just trying to irritate her into showing up.

But, despite herself, a small, involuntary smile tugged at the corner of her lips. It lasted barely a second before she wiped it away, the brief moment of softness vanishing as quickly as it had come.

Back to the music. That was what she needed to focus on.

She pulled up her playlist, letting the familiar beat wash over her, drowning out the noise in her head. For a moment, it was just her and the music, the world outside her headphones fading into the background. The station wasn't far, her newest task causing her yet again to abandon the idea of a trip to the store. At least until her brother and his friends released her from their grasp.

Bittersweet Symphony began to play the moment she stepped out of the complex, the warm sun greeting her with an unrelenting brightness.

Rika pinched her eyes shut, raising a hand to cover them, her fingers pulling the hood farther down. The light burned for a short minute, her irises straining as they adjusted to the daylight she so rarely faced. Ugh.

She took a deep breath, feeling the air shift as the street sounds flooded her senses—the hum of the city's pulse. The heat hit her like a wave, a reminder of how little she had prepared for the outside world today. She wasn't used to it—never was, and it didn't help that the sun felt like it was roasting her from the inside out.

With a huff, she continued onward, her feet moving on their own as she tucked her hands deeper into the pockets of her hoodie. The soft thud of her checkered Vans against the sidewalk was the only thing that anchored her to the moment. The streets were busy, as they always were—people brushing past her, the distant blare of car horns weaving through the melody in her ears, but none of it felt real to her.

It hadn't for months now.

She existed in a space where the outside world was nothing but background noise.

It was hot. The kind of heat that stuck to the skin, making her wonder if she should have worn something less heavy. Still, she was thankful for her black shorts—simple, comfortable, and the fabric stopped at her thighs, letting her legs feel the breeze.

Her thoughts wandered, but it wasn't long before her attention snapped back to the rhythm of her walk, idly twisting the rings around her fingers—one with a faded stone, the other with intricate engravings. The cool metal was a comfort, even as the rest of the world around her spun faster. Her gaze stayed fixed on the concrete below, the cracks and uneven surfaces she had seen a thousand times, as if the pavement might offer some kind of solace.

She passed familiar storefronts—places she hadn't bothered to visit in a while, but knew all too well. The dry cleaner with its yellowed windows, the tiny café where she had once sat for hours, observing the hurried movements of strangers.

But it was the people that bothered her most.

She couldn't stop herself from noticing them—their rushed steps, the way they spoke to each other, so easily and without hesitation. It was almost like they didn't notice the invisible weight of their lives hanging over them, or maybe they just didn't care. A part of her envied them.

A flicker of movement caught her attention—a group of teenagers huddled by the corner, laughing too loudly, the sound sharp in the stillness of the morning. Rika didn't pause, didn't stop to analyze them. She simply walked past them, her gaze drifting to the side as she raised the volume of her music. They were nothing to her. Just more noise, more distractions.

As she neared the station, the familiar rush of people pouring in and out of the busy platform made her stomach tighten slightly. She hated places like this. Crowded, loud, overwhelming. But she had no choice. Karube and his friends would be waiting, and if she didn't show, she knew there would be hell to pay.

Hell in the form of ceaseless pranks, that was.

She sighed and adjusted the hood over her head to shield herself from the prying eyes of the world. One last stretch of sidewalk to go, and then it would be time to face the music of chaos.

It was then that her shoulder made sharp contact with another, two bodies colliding in the flow of the crowd. The sudden jolt sent Rika stumbling slightly, her momentum disrupted by the unexpected shove.

She barely caught herself before an irritated grunt escaped her lips. She almost glared at the person who had bumped into her, but she quickly realized it was partly her own fault for having her gaze glued to the ground as she walked.

Her eyes lifted, meeting a pair of sharp, calculating ones.

He was dressed in nearly all white, the exact opposite of her black attire. He stood composed, his hands tucked casually in his pockets, as though unbothered by the collision. He matched her height perfectly, his platinum hair—faded to a silver sheen—framed his angular, feline-like features.

He said something, voice barely audible over the music thumping in her ears. His lips moved, but the words didn't reach her, muffled beneath the beats of her playlist.

Rika wasn't in the mood to engage.

She simply nodded, pretending to understand, not bothering to remove her earbuds or make an effort to hear him. The interaction was brief, and she had no interest in whatever he was saying, even if it seemed directed at her. It was easier to just move on.

She could feel his confused gaze follow for a moment, spotting a slight furrow that creased his brow. It was as though he had expected a different reaction from her—a conversation perhaps, or even a glance of acknowledgment. Instead, she turned and continued walking, her footsteps steady, unhurried.

After the brief interruption, Rika finally lowered the volume of her music. She yanked one earbud out, letting it dangle against her chest, scanning the crossing that led to the station. Her eyes flicked over the bustling crowd until she spotted them—her brother and his loud, chaotic friends.

It wasn't hard to find them. Not with the scene they were making.

Right in the middle of the street, Karube stood tall, yelling and cheering as if there wasn't an entire city watching. Perched precariously on his shoulders was Arisu, his arms flailing like he was commanding an imaginary crowd. Following close behind was Chota, his wide grin stretching ear to ear, phone raised high, clearly recording every second of their antics.

Rika froze, her brows furrowing deeply as a wave of secondhand embarrassment washed over her.

Her first instinct was to shout at them, to make them stop, but she hesitated when she noticed how many people were already staring. A group of teens off to the side were snickering, while a businessman in a sharp suit shook his head in disapproval as he passed by them.

Instead, she let out one of her trademark huffs, the kind that spoke volumes about her exasperation without her having to say a word. Without missing a beat, she slipped through the crowd, her smaller frame allowing her to weave between the bodies with ease.

The green light turned red just as she reached their side.

Karube, oblivious to the growing impatience around them, suddenly flopped forward with a laugh, causing Arisu to tumble off his shoulders in an ungraceful heap. A symphony of car horns erupted as drivers began to take notice of the spectacle blocking the intersection.

"Daikichi Karube!" Rika's voice cut through the chaos like a whip, sharp and filled with frustration. She even used his full name. Her heart pounded in her chest as she realized how much attention they'd drawn. The crowd she had just squeezed through was already dispersing, leaving her stranded in the middle of the street with the three of them.

Arisu scrambled to his feet, brushing himself off with a sheepish grin, as if they hadn't just turned a busy intersection into their personal playground.

Karube turned at the sound of her voice, his carefree expression faltering slightly as his gaze landed on her. But before he could respond, the screech of tires pierced the air.

Rika barely had time to process the blue car barreling toward her before it slammed on its brakes, stopping mere inches away. Her head whipped to the side, wide eyes meeting the furious glare of the driver.

"Rika!" Karube's panicked voice snapped her back to reality.

Her heart jumped into her throat as she stumbled back a step. "Sorry!" she yelled. She wasn't sure if the driver even heard her apology over the blaring horns, but the anger etched into his face was answer enough.

Before she could say or do anything else, a hand curled tightly around her wrist, tugging her forward with enough force to make her stumble.

"Come on, let's go!" Karube barked, dragging her out of the street and toward the safety of the station.

She barely had time to catch her breath as they dashed across the intersection, behind her, Arisu and Chota trailed, laughing breathlessly as if the entire ordeal had been nothing but a game.

A sudden boom! echoed across the clear blue sky, reverberating like thunder.

Rika flinched, her head once again whipping around so quickly she feared she might get whiplash. Karube still had a firm grip on her wrist, but her attention shifted upward, where bursts of color painted the sky.

It looked like... fireworks?

"Oh, fireworks!" Chota confirmed gleefully, pointing skyward even as he sprinted.

Rika barely had time to register the sight, the dazzling display above clashing with the chaos on the ground. They dashed past honking cars, skimming the edge of disaster with every frantic step. Finally, they made it to the curb.

Rika thought they would stop there, catch their breath, something. But of course, the universe wasn't feeling generous today.

Behind them, the screech of brakes and the unmistakable crunch of metal meeting metal filled the air.

A car crash. Right as Arisu and Chota rushed to their sides and out of the street. So, a car crash they caused.

Her stomach sank. She hoped it was a minor one. But she didn't dare turn around to see.

"The police! Oh, this is bad!" Arisu's panicked voice cut through the noise, his words nearly drowned out by the blaring horns. He and Chota flanked the siblings, their faces pale with realization.

Rika looked ahead and spotted the source of Arisu's panic. Three men in blue uniforms emerged from a nearby police box, their heads turning toward the commotion. But they seemed to look straight past them.

Oh great. First a near-death experience, and now she was going to jail. This day just kept getting better.

"Let's run for it!" Karube shouted, tightening his grip on her wrist before tugging her forward with renewed urgency.

Rika didn't bother to argue. If she opened her mouth, all that would come out would be a string of colorful curse words.

Instead, she let them drag her along, her shoes slapping against the pavement as they bolted toward the station. The group moved like a swarm, weaving through the crowd and ignoring the startled yells of pedestrians.

At the station entrance, the boys hastily swiped their phones to pass through the turnstiles. Rika, however, didn't have hers out—she hadn't even thought to grab it in the madness. She grunted in frustration as Karube simply yanked her through without a second thought, the turnstile creaking in protest.

"You fucker," she muttered under her breath, though her words were lost in the shuffle. Honestly, at this point, she didn't know if it was towards her brother or the turnstile itself.

The station was a blur of noise and movement. Just as Rika began to think they were safe, her eyes locked onto another group of police officers standing near the platforms. Their fingers pressed against their earpieces, wide eyes taking in whatever information they were receiving.

But the boys didn't stop. They zipped past the officers with hushed giggles, their hurried pace blending into the rush of commuters.

Something felt off. The officers barely reacted, their attention elsewhere, and it left a knot of confusion tightening in her stomach. Were they not after them? "Is no one else seeing this?" Rika spoke, only to go ignored.

Before she could fully voice her suspicions, Karube abruptly veered toward the restrooms, dragging her along with him.

"Wait, what—"

Her protest died on her lips as she caught sight of the men's symbol above the door.

"This is—!" she started, but Karube shushed her, his other hand pressed to her back as he ushered her inside.

They curved the small hallway to reveal the interior, and her eyes widened at the sight before her. Several men stood at the urinals, some turning their heads in confusion as the group barged in.

Rika's hand immediately flew to her face, slapping over her eyes in mortified horror. "Oh my God." Her voice was barely a whisper, her words muffled behind her palm. She didn't know whether to be more mortified by the fact that she was in a men's restroom—or by the fact that it was currently being used.

"Keep moving," Karube said, his voice low and insistent as he gently shoved her forward.

The boys ushered her into one of the stalls, their muffled laughter and heavy breaths filling the cramped space as they squeezed in after her. The door clicked shut behind them, cutting off the chaos outside.

Rika pressed her back against the stall wall, glaring at her brother through her fingers. "Do you have any idea—"

"Shh!" Karube hushed her, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. "Relax. It's just temporary."

"Temporary?" she whispered, hand falling from her eyes. "I'm hiding in a stall. With three idiots. In a men's restroom."

Chota snickered, trying to muffle his laughter with his hand. "Hey, it's better than getting arrested."

Arisu, wedged awkwardly between them, nodded sagely. "Yeah. Consider it an adventure."

Rika groaned, dragging her hands down her face. "This isn't an adventure. This is a nightmare."

Chota pulled his phone out, a grin spreading as he began typing furiously. With an exaggerated gesture, he signaled for the rest of them to check their devices.

Rika felt the buzzing in her pocket and sighed, already bracing herself for whatever nonsense he had just sent. Reluctantly, she retrieved her phone and glanced at the screen.

'Who farted?'

Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she registered the foul smell that had suddenly permeated the cramped stall. Arisu's face twisted, his lips pulling back in a gag as he waved a hand in front of his nose.

Rika nearly did the same but opted instead to tug her hoodie sleeve over her hand, pressing the fabric firmly against her face. They were in a men's bathroom, after all. She had always imagined they would smell worse than the women's. She was correct in that assumption.

Chota's fingers moved rapidly over his phone, another message popping up in the group chat.

'Who was it? Own up and sniff up your own fart!'

Rika groaned inwardly. This was exactly why she had tried to leave this chat a dozen times. Tried and failed, because somehow, they always pulled her back in.

Karube, ever the instigator, waved his hand at Chota and mouthed, "It was you, wasn't it?"

The boys stifled their laughter, giggles escaping as Arisu elbowed Chota, who was now grinning ear to ear.

But the sound of distant footsteps echoing in the bathroom caused them all to freeze. Only then did Rika realize how quiet it had gotten. The air shifted, their soft chuckles immediately silenced.

Rika pressed her back harder against the door, the cold metal biting through her hoodie. Her hand reflexively ran through her long dark hair, only to realize her hood had fallen in the act of running.

She cursed under her breath and yanked it back into place, the fabric barely settling before she stilled completely.

The faint beat of her music still played in her right ear, and she quickly paused it with a tap, tucking the phone back into her pocket. The silence felt louder now, stretching uncomfortably as they listened to the approaching footsteps grow closer.

Then came the first knock.

It was loud and jarring, the sound rattling the door and sending a shock through Rika's spine. Her eyes widened, and before she could react, Arisu grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward him, shifting her position in the cramped stall between him and Chota.

Karube sank into the far corner, his shoulders brushing against Chota, who raised a finger to his lips in a shushing motion.

Not that anyone was speaking.

Another knock came. This time, four sharp, deliberate bangs.

Rika's brows furrowed. Her hand curled tighter around her hoodie sleeve as she glanced at her brother. Karube's usually confident grin was gone, replaced by a slight crease in his brow.

And then—without warning—the lights went out.

The hum of the fluorescent bulbs overhead faded into nothingness, leaving them in pitch-black darkness. The faint sounds of the bustling station beyond the restroom seemed to vanish as well, swallowed by a silence that pressed against her ears.

The air felt heavier now, oppressive, like the room itself had changed somehow.

"What the hell?" Rika whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat.

The knock on the stall door didn't come again. Whatever—or whoever—had been there was gone.

The soft whir of the bathroom's fans stopped, and the stillness became absolute.

Rika turned to Arisu, whose fingers were still gently wrapped around her wrist. He pulled his phone out with his free hand, the screen illuminating his face faintly for a brief moment—before it flickered off again. He tapped it a few more times, harder with each attempt, but the screen remained dark.

"Power outage?" Chota whispered.

Rika quickly pulled her own phone out, pressing the home button on her old, scratched-up device. Nothing. The screen was completely black, unresponsive to her touch. She pressed it again, harder this time, but the result was the same.

"It's not just the lights," she muttered. "My phones not even working."

Karube shifted in the corner, his outline barely visible in the faint sliver of sunlight creeping in from the bottom of the stall. "Well, that's... creepy," he muttered, his voice quiet.

Chota let out a nervous laugh, but it lacked his usual carefree energy. "Okay, uh... it's fine, right? It's just a blackout. Happens all the time."

"No," Rika said firmly, her voice steady despite the growing unease twisting in her gut. "This is weird."

The boys fell silent at her words. No one argued.

Rika clenched her jaw, her gaze darting toward the door of the stall. Whatever had just happened, whatever this was, it wasn't normal.

And she had a feeling things were about to get much, much worse.

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