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The world felt distant like I was floating just above the surface of a dream I couldn't escape. My body was heavy, my limbs unresponsive, as if I'd been dragged down into a tar pit. Was this some kind of twisted lucid dream? Or a hangover from reality itself?

Slap. Slap.

Something sharp stung my cheek, dragging me toward consciousness. My eyes fluttered open, squinting against the dim light that filled the room. I saw a face—unfamiliar, smug, and far too close for comfort. Twin tails tied with red ribbons framed her magenta hair, and her dark red eyes seemed to glow with a predatory amusement.

"Wake up, Hikigaya-senpai~!" she chirped, her voice syrupy-sweet but with a devilish undertone. Her hand hovered above my cheek, clearly the culprit of the stinging sensation. She was wearing the Sobu High uniform, but I didn't recognize her. Not a good sign.

I tried to move, but my body refused to cooperate. My head throbbed like I'd been hit by a truck. Or maybe something worse. My chest felt tight, my pulse erratic as reality began to sink in. This wasn't my room.

I tried to move, but my body refused to cooperate. My arms and legs wouldn't budge—no, they couldn't budge. Panic surged as I realized why. My wrists were bound to the arms of a chair, my ankles tied to its legs. The ropes bit into my skin roughly.

Okay. Okay, don't panic. Think. Calm down. This is just... a bad dream. Yeah, right. Because bad dreams usually come with props and professional-grade kidnapping setups.

My eyes darted around, taking in the room or at least what I could see through the haze of dim lighting. My heart sank as recognition set in. The desks, the chairs, the chalkboard at the front. It was unmistakably one of Sobu High's classrooms.

Why here of all places? And why does it look like a horror movie set?

The light in the room was faint and unnatural, coming from a single desk lamp placed on the teacher's desk, casting long, eerie shadows across the walls. The windows, usually offering a clear view of the school grounds, were pitch black, as if the world outside had ceased to exist. It wasn't just dark; it was an oppressive, inky void, swallowing any hint of time or place.

What time even is it? Midnight? Later? How long was I out?

My chest tightened as my mind raced, conjuring every worst-case scenario imaginable. The faint ache in my head wasn't helping either, throbbing in time with my quickening pulse.

And I had no idea who this girl was.

Her gaze met mine, and for a moment, she tilted her head, observing me like I was some amusing animal in a zoo.

Then, with a playful smirk, she said, "You know, your eyes are darting around like a cornered little animal. Are you analyzing the situation? Trying to piece it all together?" She leaned in closer, her twin tails brushing faintly against my shoulder. "It's so cute~ Your panicked expression is downright hilarious."

My jaw tightened. This wasn't just unsettling. It was utterly surreal.

"Wha—who are you?" My voice was hoarse, barely above a croak. It hurt to speak, but fear and confusion fueled me. "What's... going on?"

Her lips curved into a mischievous grin, and she placed her finger lightly on my cheek, tapping it as if testing my level of consciousness. "Oh my, you don't recognize me?" She feigned a dramatic pout, her tone dripping with mock disappointment. "How sad~ And here I thought we'd have such a lovely chat."

Her expression shifted in an instant, her smile widening into something more sinister, more calculating. The empty void in her eyes sent a chill down my spine, one that no amount of internal monologue could dispel.

Stay calm. Figure this out. Think, damn it. Why am I here?

"Listen, I don't know who you are or what you want, but—" My voice cracked, and I had to take a deep breath to steady myself. "If this is some kind of prank, it's not funny."

Her grin only widened, a glint of mischief dancing in her hollow, red-tinged eyes. "Prank~? Oh, senpai, you really are amusing. But no, this is far more... serious." She leaned closer, her face just inches from mine, her tone shifting to something almost sing-song. "You've been a very interesting person lately, haven't you? Getting involved in things you shouldn't. Meeting people you shouldn't."

Her words hit like a gut punch. My mind raced, piecing together fragments of what had happened before I blacked out. The train ride. The silence at home. That sharp pressure at the base of my neck. And now this.

Kidnapped. I've been kidnapped. Great. Just great. I'm not even sane enough for this kind of thing. Why always me?

"Why am I here?" I managed to rasp out, trying to keep my voice steady, though the shaking in my hands betrayed me. "What do you want?"

Her grin softened into something more... predatory. "Me? Oh, I don't want anything. Well, except for you to stay put and be a good boy." She straightened up and stepped back, the sudden loss of her invasive proximity allowing me to finally breathe.

Then, with a carefree twirl, she began moving across the classroom, her steps fluid and deliberate, like she was dancing to music only she could hear. Her movements had a strange elegance to them as if she were performing on stage instead of pacing around a dimly lit, abandoned schoolroom.

She suddenly stopped mid-spin, tilting her head to glance at me with a sly smile. "By the way, how do I look in this uniform?" She smoothed out the Sobu School blazer with exaggerated care. "I found it just lying around in one of the storage rooms. Lucky, right? Fits like a charm!"

Her tone was light, teasing, but it only made my stomach churn.

Inwardly, I cursed the universe. Outwardly, I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "You stole a uniform?"

She put a finger to her chin, pretending to think. "Stole is such a strong word. I prefer... borrowed indefinitely." She twirled again, letting the hem of the skirt flare slightly before coming to a graceful stop. "Well? Do I look like a proper Sobu student? Be honest, senpai~."

I didn't answer. My mind was too busy screaming that this situation was anything but proper.

Suddenly the door opened, and another voice cut through the air—calm, measured, but carrying an undeniable edge.

"Ichika, don't scare him too much please."

I strained to turn my head toward the source of the voice, my neck protesting with sharp, stabbing pain. A boy stepped into view, his soft brown hair and green eyes giving him an air of unassuming harmlessness that immediately felt like a bald-faced lie.

He wasn't wearing a uniform, just a simple shirt, and jeans, but something about the way he carried himself, the casual confidence in his movements made my stomach twist even tighter.

"Who the hell are you people?" I demanded, my voice breaking as I glared at the two of them. "What do you want from me?"

The boy's lips curled into a faint friendly smile as he stepped closer, his eyes unwavering. "Introductions are important, aren't they?" he said, as though this were some normal meeting. "Yagami Takuya." He gestured toward the girl still twirling idly around the room. "And that bundle of energy is Amasawa Ichika. Though it seems you've already become acquainted."

Ichika gave a playful little wave, her grin widening like this was the most fun she'd had in days.

I narrowed my eyes, forcing out another question despite the dryness in my throat. "What do you want?"

Yagami tilted his head slightly, looking at me like I was an interesting puzzle he was on the verge of solving. Then, with a quiet chuckle, he closed the distance between us, stopping just a step away from my chair.

"What's the point of playing dumb, Hikigaya-san?" His voice was soft, almost kind, but the words hit like a knife slicing through my feeble attempt at denial. "You already know why we're here, don't you?"

The room suddenly felt smaller, the dim light casting long, ominous shadows against the walls. My mind reeled, trying to make sense of their words, their presence, and the sheer danger of the situation.

Why? Why is this happening?

I was so... so close.

And then it hit me. Like a cruel, belated epiphany, the answer began to take shape.

I was stupid. So stupid.

I thought Tsukishiro was the only threat. I thought it was just him, that he was the end of it. But he wasn't. If someone like Tsukishiro couldn't act freely outside the school's confines... then why wouldn't they send someone else? Someone who could move without restrictions. Someone like them. His words came flooding back.

The White Room.

The realization sent a chill crawling up my spine.

This wasn't just danger. It was something far worse—a faceless, calculated force hiding behind the masks of ordinary middle schoolers. Kids. No, not kids. Tools crafted to be inconspicuous, to blend in, to disarm. The very notion of it felt wrong, twisted, like staring into the abyss and realizing it had been staring back all along.

I let my guard down. I didn't think this far ahead. And now I'm paying for it.

Yagami's eyes seemed to sharpen as he watched my face, a quiet amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. "Ah," he murmured, "it looks like you've figured it out after all."

Ichika giggled softly, sitting casually on a desk. "See? I told you he's smart. That face of his—priceless."

Yagami sighed, shaking his head in disappointment as his sharp gaze returned to me. "Really, this entire mess could've been avoided if they'd handled things properly from the start," he said, almost lazily. "Tsukishiro-san failed so pathetically it's almost laughable. Letting someone like you slip through his fingers? Unbelievable."

The casual disdain in his tone was unnerving like he wasn't talking about a person but an abstract failure in a system. His lips curled in a faint smirk as he continued, "And now, because of his incompetence, the facility will have to deal with... complications."

Ichika, still perched on the desk, swung her legs idly, grinning as if this was nothing more than an amusing play unfolding before her.

Yagami gestured vaguely in her direction. "Honestly, all they had to do was assign Ichika to shadow you every time you stepped out of school. That would've been enough." He sighed again, this time with exaggerated exasperation, running a hand through his hair. "Such a simple solution, yet they made it so problematic."

His words felt like venom cloaked in honey, every syllable twisting deeper into my growing dread. This wasn't just mockery. He was actively provoking me.

He looked back at me, his green eyes calm but piercing. "Not that I expect you to be of much use now. Whatever you think you know, I doubt it'll be worth the trouble you've caused."

Ichika let out a soft laugh, covering her mouth as if trying to stifle it but failing miserably. "You really do love to lecture, don't you, Yagami-kun?"

He didn't bother responding to her quip. Instead, he took another step closer to me, his presence filling the already oppressive space. "But I will say, Hikigaya-san," he said, his voice dropping to a quieter, sharper tone, "you've caused more ripples than I expected. I'm curious to see how far they go."

Yagami chuckled softly, almost to himself, as he shook his head. His earlier calm façade began to crack, revealing something darker lurking beneath. "You know, Hikigaya-san," he began, his voice laced with a strange mix of amusement and disdain, "after you defeated Tsukishiro—if we can even call his disgraceful failure that—you got cocky. You grew overconfident. And that arrogance... led us straight to the Masterpiece."

The word Masterpiece dripped with contempt, his tone sharpening for the first time. The shift was subtle but unmistakable, and it sent a fresh wave of unease crawling up my spine. Yagami's green eyes seemed to harden, his earlier mocking amusement replaced by something colder, something deeply personal.

He stepped closer, kneeling down so that we were at eye level. His empty gaze locked onto mine, and for a moment, it felt like the air was being siphoned out of the room.

"Thanks to you," he said slowly, deliberately, "I can finally fulfill my ambition. Without your little mishaps, I would have never been able to act freely in this environment. But with your actions, you've cornered that so-called 'God' into a position with no escape."

I swallowed hard, summoning whatever courage I could muster. "Do you really think she's going to show up?" My voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, but the question cut through the tense air.

Yagami paused for a moment before laughing—a soft, nearly pitying sound. "Does it really matter?" he asked, leaning back slightly as if the question amused him. "If she doesn't, then it means you were nothing more than a convenient pawn. Hmm, though my calculations point to that outcome."

Yagami tilted his head as he took in my expression. "You look absolutely exhausted, Hikigaya-san," he soothed gently, his words digging under my skin like barbs. "Tell me, how does it feel to know you've been utterly manipulated this entire time? Every move you made, every decision—it's all been predicted. No matter how hard you tried, you were never in control."

His voice dipped, laced with an almost sinister satisfaction. "And let's not kid ourselves. If she really is the perfect 'Masterpiece' they claim her to be, then she had to predict Tsukishiro-san would make such decisions. She probably let it happen. All just to watch you flail about, struggling for some twisted reason only she understands."

My fists clenched at his words, anger bubbling to the surface. I glared at him, heat rising in my chest as I forced the words past the knot in my throat.

"Keep standing there like some smug little know-it-all. But you didn't see what I saw. You didn't live through what I lived through. So why don't you do everyone a favor and shut that oversized mouth of yours before you choke on your own ego?"

His face went blank as I continued, "You talk big, acting like you're some genius pulling strings, but you're just as much a pawn as the rest of us. The difference is, I'm not stupid enough to sit here pretending I'm holding the leash. You sick-fuck."

Ichika's eyes widened slightly, her lips parting as if she were about to say something, but Yagami raised a hand to silence her. His smile returned, but there was a flicker of something darker in his eyes now.

The thought of kidnapping stirred something deep within me. The fury that had been simmering inside me now bubbled over. "What the hell did you do to Komachi?!" I spat, my voice shaking with anger and desperation. The chair I was sitting in creaked as I gripped the armrests so hard my knuckles went white. "If you've touched her, I swear, I'll kill you! I'll tear this whole place apart to get to her!"

Ichika smirked, her expression flickering for just a moment before she responded, "Komachi-chan is just sleeping at home, having sweet dreams~ Don't worry, Hikigaya-senpai."

The words barely left her mouth when Yagami's hand moved faster than my eyes could track. A sickening thud echoed in the room as his fist collided with Ichika's abdomen. The force of the blow was brutal, and Ichika's body folded at the impact, her face contorting in pain.

I barely saw the movement. One second, Ichika was speaking, and the next, she was crumpled on the floor, gasping for air. It was too fast, too violent.

Ichika lay there, motionless for a moment, her breathing shallow. My heart hammered in my chest, rage building like a storm ready to break. "What the fuck—" I began, but the words caught in my throat as I watched.

For a heartbeat, everything felt frozen in time. I was too stunned to react, unable to move. Had Yagami just...?

And then, as if nothing had happened, Ichika stirred. Her hand slowly reached for the ground, pushing herself up. Her face was pale, but her eyes—those cold, hollow eyes—met mine once more, unfazed by the violent display. She stood up, as if nothing was out of the ordinary, and dusted herself off.

"Don't mind that," Yagami said with a casual shrug, wiping his hand like it was nothing more than a brief inconvenience. "It's just a reminder of how things work here. Your sister's fine, for now."

I wanted to scream, to rip him apart where he stood, but all I could do was sit there, trembling. The weight of the threat, the danger, the sickening realization that they had played with her life... it was too much. The very idea that Komachi could be in the hands of these monsters made my blood run cold.

The door to the room creaked open, and the moment it did, I felt a shift in the air. Yagami's expression faltered, the calm facade cracking for the first time since this nightmare began. His eyes widened slightly—a brief flicker of shock—and that was all it took for my heart to skip a beat.

She entered.

Her presence filled the room, heavy and suffocating, but her eyes—those eyes—didn't even glance in Yagami's direction. No, she was focused entirely on me. It felt like the entire room held its breath, the space between us charged with something I couldn't quite place.

I didn't know how, but I could feel her thoughts, piercing and direct, like an invisible thread connecting our minds.

The message was simple, but it resonated deeply, a silent understanding between us.

Then, out of nowhere, Yagami's laugh broke the silence. It started low, almost nervous, but quickly turned into something far more twisted. A manic, hysterical sound that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

"You—" He chuckled darkly, shaking his head as if the very idea was incomprehensible. "You really are something, aren't you? After everything, after trying to escape this very fate, you came back to it. You came back exactly to what you were running from!"

His laughter grew louder, almost too loud as if he had uncovered some cosmic joke. His face twisted with an unsettling grin. The boy was losing himself in the moment, in his own madness.

I met her gaze again, this time with the faintest trace of understanding.

"As long as you have me, there's no need to worry about things like that."

Yagami's laughter only grew louder, more unhinged, as he began to mock her further. "Ah, so this is it, isn't it?" He shook his head again, his smile twisted, as if savoring the irony. "You've got to be kidding me. You—the so-called 'Masterpiece'—you really think you're in power here? This whole thing... it's one big absurdity. Violence? The mind? It's all just uncertainty. You should know, you won't win."

E̷v̵i̶l G̸o̸d didn't respond immediately. Instead, she simply stood there, her eyes still locked on mine, unblinking. It was almost as if she was waiting, not for him, but for me.

Ichika's presence behind me was sudden, cold, and sharp. Before I could react, I felt the cold edge of a knife pressed gently to my throat. The room felt suffocating. I tensed, barely able to breathe as the blade rested there, close enough to slice but not yet drawing blood.

"Sorry, senpai," Ichika whispered, her voice a strange mix of mockery and apology as if she weren't quite sure whether she was joking or not. "You know how it is."

I didn't flinch. My mind raced, but there was no room for panic. Just... cold clarity. If anything, her voice just made me feel sick to my stomach.

"Very well," Yagami's voice cut through the tension, his words like a death sentence.

He reached beneath his shirt, pulling out two knives—gleaming in the dim light. One was light, almost delicate in his grasp, while the other was heavier, darker, as though it was made for something far more sinister than a mere threat.

With a flick of his wrist, he hurled one of the knives toward her. The blade landed at the E̷̸v̸̴i̶̛l̴ G̴͠o̷̷d̷'s feet with a sharp clink, its tip dropping into the floor with a finality that sent a chill through the air.

His smile spread wider, but it was devoid of any real joy. It was something colder, something crueler.

"We'll fight to the death," Yagami said, his words sharp and clear. "If you win, he will live."

He gestured to me with a wicked grin.

"But if you lose, he dies."