Under Twilight Spell

The next morning, I woke earlier than usual, my mind oddly clear despite the restless night.

I opened my fridge, pulling out ingredients with clumsy hands. I wasn't much of a cook, but I wanted to try. After all, Seika had been kind to me, and it was only fair to thank her properly.

By the time I finished preparing the lunchbox, the sun had risen high enough to paint my apartment in a soft, golden glow. I packed the box neatly, the faintest hint of pride tugging at my lips.

But as soon as I stepped out of my apartment, that sense of accomplishment vanished.

There she was, Akane, leaning casually against the wall across from my door. Her crimson eyes sparkled in the morning light, her wicked smile as sharp and familiar as ever.

"Good morning, Kageyama," she said, her voice a lilting melody.

"Akane," I stammered, startled. "What are you doing here?"

She didn't answer right away. Instead, she held up a neatly wrapped lunchbox, the fabric tied with precision. Her smile widened as she stepped closer, pressing it into my hands.

"For you," she said simply.

I blinked, staring at the box. "You… made this?"

"Of course," she replied, her tone playful but her gaze piercing. "I thought you might need a proper meal."

My hands tightened around the lunchbox as my heart began to race. The warmth of her gesture conflicted with the cold aura she exuded.

"Thank you," I managed, though the words felt heavy in my throat.

Her smile didn't waver as her eyes drifted downward. "What's that?"

I followed her gaze to the lunchbox I'd prepared for Seika. My stomach dropped.

"Oh, this?" I said quickly, fumbling for an explanation. "It's nothing. Just… something for a coworker."

"A coworker," she repeated, her tone flat.

"Yes," I said, nodding too quickly. "She brought me lunch yesterday, so I thought I'd return the favor."

For a moment, Akane said nothing. Her smile softened, but her eyes turned cold, calculating.

"How thoughtful," she murmured, her fingers brushing against the box she'd given me. "But you'll eat what I made first, won't you?"

Her words weren't a question.

I swallowed hard, nodding. "Of course."

Her smile brightened, and she stepped back, her hand grazing my arm as she passed. "Good. Enjoy it."

As she walked away, I felt a mix of relief and unease. The lunchbox she'd given me felt heavier than it should, and my steps faltered as I headed toward work.

By the time I reached the office, I wasn't sure what scared me more—the thought of disappointing Akane or the growing realization that her hold on me was tightening with every passing day.

At the office, I approached Seika with the lunchbox I'd prepared. She looked surprised when I handed it to her, her eyes lighting up with gratitude.

"You made this for me?" she asked, her voice soft and tinged with disbelief.

I nodded, scratching the back of my head awkwardly. "Yeah, just as a thank you for yesterday. I'm not the best cook, but I hope it's okay."

Her smile widened. "Thank you so much! Actually... why don't we have lunch together? I'd love to try it with you."

Her request caught me off guard. I hesitated, the weight of Akane's presence lingering like a shadow over my thoughts. But Seika's genuine expression pushed away my doubts, at least for the moment.

"Sure," I said, my voice quieter than I intended. "Just this once."

When lunchtime rolled around, we found a quiet corner in the office break room. Seika carefully unwrapped the lunchbox I made, her eyes sparkling at the effort I'd put in.

"This looks great, Kageyama!" she said cheerfully, and I felt a small flicker of pride despite the nervousness twisting in my stomach.

I opened Akane's lunchbox next to her, and my breath caught. The presentation was flawless—exquisite, even. Each dish was meticulously arranged, the colors vibrant, the textures rich. It looked like something from a high-end restaurant.

"Wow," Seika said, glancing at it. "That's amazing! Did you—"

"Someone made it for me," I cut her off quickly, my voice sharp. Her gaze lingered on me for a moment, curiosity evident, but she didn't press.

As I picked up the first bite of Akane's food, something strange happened. The flavors were muted, hollow. There was no warmth, no comfort. It was as if I were eating something cold and lifeless. Yet, I couldn't stop. Each bite felt like a compulsion, a need to keep going despite the absence of taste.

Seika laughed lightly beside me, eating the lunch I'd made for her. "This is so good, Kageyama! You really didn't have to go all out."

I smiled faintly, the taste—or lack thereof—of Akane's food dulling her words.

"Can I try a little of that?" she asked, gesturing to Akane's lunchbox.

My chest tightened instantly. A strange, possessive anger rose within me, sharp and unexpected. "No," I said quickly, my tone harsher than intended.

Seika blinked in surprise. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine," I muttered, pulling the box closer to me. The thought of her touching it, tasting it, made my stomach churn in ways I didn't understand. This food... it wasn't for anyone else.

Seika seemed to sense my unease and changed the subject, talking about something trivial to lighten the mood. I nodded along, but my focus stayed locked on the lunchbox. Even after finishing it, I felt no satisfaction, only a lingering chill that settled deep in my bones.

When lunch ended, Seika thanked me again, her warm smile briefly breaking through the cold haze in my mind. But as I returned to my desk, the weight of Akane's gaze seemed to follow me, unseen but undeniably there.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, my thoughts consumed by a single question: What had she done to me?

As the day ended and the faint orange hues of the sunset painted the sky, I found myself walking the familiar path to the park. My steps were heavy with exhaustion but guided by something more than habit—something deeper, something I couldn't explain.

The bench came into view, and I sat down, waiting. The air felt colder than usual, biting against my skin. Still, I waited.

It wasn't long before she appeared, her figure ethereal against the dimming light. Akane walked with that same deliberate grace, her crimson eyes locking onto me as she approached. She didn't speak, only sat beside me, close enough that the chill she carried seeped into me.

I cleared my throat. "Akane..." My voice was quiet, almost hesitant. She tilted her head slightly, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

"Thank you for the lunch," I said, my words tumbling out awkwardly. "It was... delicious. The best I've ever had."

Her smile widened, a glint of satisfaction flickering in her crimson gaze. "Did you enjoy it that much?" she asked, her voice dripping with an almost playful tone.

I nodded quickly, the memory of that strange, empty yet compulsive taste still lingering on my tongue. "Yes. It was incredible."

She leaned in closer, her cold presence enveloping me. "If you want," she whispered, her tone both enticing and chilling, "I can make this for you every day."

Every day. The thought of it was oddly comforting, almost addicting. But there was something in her tone that made my heart skip—a warning, a condition.

"What's the catch?" I asked, trying to sound casual, though my voice betrayed my unease.

Akane's smile sharpened, her eyes gleaming like knives in the twilight. "There's a price, of course. Something this special doesn't come for free."

I swallowed hard, my throat dry despite the cold surrounding us. "What kind of price?"

She leaned back slightly, her gaze never leaving mine. "That depends," she said cryptically. "Are you willing to give me something precious in return?"

Her words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. My mind raced, but I couldn't form a coherent thought. Precious? What could she possibly mean?

Akane reached out and brushed her fingers against my cheek, the icy touch making me shiver. "Think about it," she murmured, her voice soft yet commanding. "You don't have to decide now... but once you say yes, there's no going back."

I stared at her, my heart pounding in my chest. The offer was tantalizing, intoxicating even, but the weight of her words pressed down on me like a vice.

Before I could respond, she stood, her movements fluid and graceful. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said, her smile returning to that familiar wicked curve. "Don't keep me waiting."

And with that, she disappeared into the night, leaving me alone on the bench, the cold air clinging to my skin and her words echoing in my mind.