The rest of the lunch period passed in a strange, shimmering haze.
The universe had contracted to the small, two-person table in the corner of the Jounan High School cafeteria. The boisterous laughter and chaotic chatter of their schoolmates faded into a distant, muffled roar. All Samantha was aware of was the frantic, humming energy buzzing through her own veins, the faint, sweet scent of strawberry on Liza's skin, and the dazed, wide-eyed stare of the girl sitting opposite her.
They clung to each other's presence, not with arms, but with stolen, electric glances. A newfound awkwardness hung in the air between them, thick and heavy as the humid afternoon, yet it was shot through with a thrilling, terrifying current of something new. Something a stupid dare had no business creating.
Mochi, sensing the shift in the emotional atmosphere, wisely made himself scarce, keeping his commentary to a blessed minimum.
"So…" Liza finally began, her voice a little hesitant as she poked at a piece of her melon pan. She wouldn't meet Samantha's eyes. "That… the kiss…"
A fresh wave of heat bloomed on Samantha's cheeks. "Yeah?"
Liza bit her lip, a small, endearing gesture that Samantha now found unbearably distracting. "It was… um… it wasn't bad."
Samantha's heart did a painful little flip-flop in her chest. "'Wasn't bad'?"
Liza nodded, finally looking up. A mischievous sparkle was beginning to return to her dazed, post-kiss eyes. "Yeah. Not bad at all. Maybe we should, you know…" she trailed off, her cheeks turning a shade darker. "…do it again sometime? For… for practice?"
Samantha choked on her own spit, a strangled, undignified sound. "Pr-Practice?!"
Liza giggled, the sound light and airy, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Juuust kidding! Mostly."
Samantha rolled her eyes, but a smile she couldn't suppress tugged at the corners of her lips. The power of the rewards hummed through her, but it was Liza's teasing that actually made her feel grounded again. "You're impossible, Suzuki Liza."
Liza seemed to take that as her cue to return to normal. She linked her arm with Samantha's, and the familiar, casual touch was now anything but. It sent a pleasant, shivery warmth straight up Samantha's spine. "But you love me," Liza chirped, her confidence returning.
Before Samantha could form a retort, a sharp, intrusive chime pierced through her thoughts.
PING!
[Daily Relationship Mission Unlocked!]
[Objective: Take your best friend, Suzuki Liza, on a 'Practice' Date.]
[Time Limit: 7 Days]
[Reward: Skill - 'Luck Boost' (Passive)]
[Penalty for Failure: 'Repulsion Aura' Debuff – Extreme Unattractiveness (Physical & Metaphysical)]
Samantha stumbled, her newly enhanced agility deserting her as she nearly tripped over her own feet. "What the actual—"
"Sam-chan! Are you okay?" Liza asked, her grip tightening on Samantha's arm to steady her.
"Yeah, yeah, fine," Samantha replied quickly, her eyes darting around. A 'practice' date? The system is quoting her now?! "Just… clumsy."
Liza frowned, her concern palpable. "You've been extra clumsy today. And pale. And flushed. Maybe you should go to the nurse?"
"No! I'm good! Let's just… get to afternoon classes," Samantha insisted, practically dragging Liza away from the cafeteria, eager to escape before the System decided to torture her further.
Mochi zipped in front of her face the moment Liza was distracted by a friend calling her name. Its blue eyes were wide with a maddening, insufferable excitement. "Ooh! A date! This is getting spicy! My favorite rom-com trope!"
"Shut. Up. Mochi," Samantha seethed through gritted teeth.
"Hey, don't shoot the messenger! The System has clearly interpreted recent events and logged them for romantic development! Not my fault your life is turning into a visual novel!"
"It was a dare, Mochi! A stupid, insane dare to stop me from breaking out in zits!"
"Riiight," Mochi said, its voice dripping with an ancient, all-knowing sarcasm. "And the way you practically swallowed her whole was just 'following instructions,' I suppose?"
A hot flush crept up Samantha's neck. "That's… that was… tactical. To ensure the mission's success."
"Uh-huh," the ghost deadpanned. "Look, whatever you want to call it, you've got bigger fish to fry. Or, in this case, bigger brothers to save."
Samantha's flustered state vanished, replaced by an instant, icy dread. "Right. Ren. Has anything changed?"
Mochi's smug expression dissolved, replaced by a seriousness that was far more alarming. "Yes. I've been… feeling something. Since this morning."
Her heart started to pound a heavy, frantic rhythm. "Feeling what?"
"A disturbance," Mochi said, its voice low. "Like a cold spot in the soul of the world. A knot of wrongness. It's faint, but… it's getting stronger."
"Where? Is it near the school? Is it near Ren?"
"I don't know the exact location," Mochi admitted, its form flickering slightly. "The feeling isn't directional. It's more like a pressure. A sense that something, somewhere, is fundamentally out of alignment. But Samantha… it's a dark energy. Very dark."
A cold premonition slid down her spine. "We have to find him after school."
As if her very thoughts had triggered a system alert, a new chime, sharper and more urgent than any before, screamed through her mind. It was a klaxon, a siren, a declaration of emergency.
[!! URGENT SYSTEM ALERT !!]
The mission notification on her interface turned from standard blue to a terrifying, blood-red.
[MAIN MISSION #2: The Shadow Over Kisaragi]
[Difficulty: ★★★★★ (EXTREME)]
[Time Limit: 24:00:00]
[Reward: ???]
[Penalty for Failure: Irreversible Consequences.]
Five stars. Twenty-four hours. Irreversible Consequences.
The words were a death sentence. Samantha stopped dead in the crowded hallway, the world narrowing to a terrifying tunnel vision focused on that glowing red text. The strength drained from her legs.
"Irreversible…?"
"Sam? What is it? What's wrong?!" Liza asked, her voice sharp with real panic now, shaking her arm. "You look like you've seen a ghost!"
Samantha's mind raced, a chaotic storm of fear and adrenaline. She couldn't tell her. She couldn't drag Liza into this nightmare. She needed to be alone. She needed to move. Now.
"It's… it's my mom," Samantha blurted out, the lie forming on her lips with practiced ease. "She just texted. It's an emergency. I have to go home. Right now."
Liza's eyes widened. "An emergency? Is she okay? Is everyone alright?"
"Yeah! I mean, no! It's… a burst pipe!" Samantha invented, her voice cracking with fake distress. "The whole kitchen is flooding! I have to go help!"
It was a terrible, flimsy lie, but it was all she had.
Liza's face, full of romantic confusion just moments before, was now a mask of pure, supportive concern. "Oh my god, that's awful! Go! Go!" She released Samantha's arm. "But what about our afternoon classes?"
"I'll email Cruz-sensei and explain!" Samantha said, already turning and pushing her way through the throng of students. "I'll make it up to you, Liza! I promise!"
"Okay! Be careful, Sam-chan!" Liza called after her, her voice already distant.
"I will!" Samantha shouted back, but she was already running, her heart pounding a desperate beat against her ribs. She didn't look back. She couldn't.
Mochi zipped along beside her, its expression grim. "You lied to her."
"I had to!" Samantha panted, her lungs burning as she burst out of the school's main building. "I can't tell her the truth! She'd think I'm insane!"
"Maybe," Mochi conceded. "But you hurt her feelings. I could feel her disappointment. It was very… salty."
A sharp pang of guilt lanced through Samantha, but she crushed it. There was no time for guilt. "I know. But I'll make it up to her. After. Right now, I need to focus."
"Agreed," Mochi said. "You have less than twenty-four hours to save your brother from… whatever this is."
As she burst through the school gates and onto the bustling city street, the world seemed to slow down. Her Eidetic Memory, her enhanced senses, kicked into overdrive. The roar of the traffic, the blur of pedestrians, the kaleidoscope of colors—it all sharpened into a single, cohesive picture of a world she had to conquer.
All that mattered was Ren.
She fumbled for her phone, her fingers trembling as she pulled up his contact and hit dial.
The phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times. Straight to voicemail.
"Hey, this is Ren. Can't talk. Leave a message."
"Ren, where are you?!" she whispered, her voice cracking with desperation. She hung up and tried again. And again. Each time, the same cool, recorded voice met her frantic fear.
"This is not good," Mochi said, its tiny form tense.
"No kidding, genius," Samantha retorted, her own voice sharp with panic. "Where could he be? Where does he go after school?"
"Think, Samantha! Use that database in your head! Where does he go when he's not at Student Council?"
"He… he sometimes goes to the arcade near Shibuya station with his friends," she said, her mind racing. "Or… that big Kinokuniya bookstore in Shinjuku, to look for art books."
"The arcade is closer," Mochi stated. "Let's start there."
Samantha didn't need to be told twice. She flagged down a taxi, yanking the door open and diving inside before it had fully stopped. "Shibuya station! Hurry!"
The minutes in the back of the car were an eternity of torture. Her anxiety grew with every passing red light, every traffic jam. "Please be okay, Ren, please be okay, please be okay…" she chanted under her breath, a desperate mantra against the encroaching darkness.
Mochi hovered beside her, its light pulsating with a worried rhythm. "I still feel it. That… that tear in the world. It's stronger. More focused now."
"What does it feel like, exactly?" Samantha asked, closing her eyes, trying to concentrate.
Mochi hesitated. "Like… like a shadow with teeth. Cold, and empty, and… hungry. Like something is about to be consumed. To be taken away forever."
Her eyes snapped open. "Taken away?"
Before Mochi could answer, the taxi screeched to a halt. "Shibuya station!"
Samantha practically threw the bills at the driver and scrambled out of the car, sprinting towards the glowing, noisy maw of a multi-level arcade. The place was a sensory assault, a cacophony of flashing lights, blaring J-pop, and the digital sounds of a thousand virtual deaths.
She pushed through the crowd of students and salarymen, her eyes scanning every corner. "Ren!" she called out, but her voice was swallowed whole by the din.
Mochi zipped through the air above her head. "I don't see him, Samantha! He's not on the fighting games floor!"
She ran up the stairs to the rhythm game section, her heart sinking with every empty space she saw. He wasn't here.
A new kind of dread, cold and final, began to settle in her bones. He wasn't here. He wasn't answering his phone.
As she stumbled back out onto the street, the world feeling unreal and tilted, her phone buzzed in her pocket.
A text message. From an unknown number.
Her fingers trembled so badly she almost dropped the phone. She opened the message.
It contained a single image.
And the world stopped.
It was Ren.
He was tied to a rusted metal chair in what looked like a derelict, dark space. His pristine Jounan High uniform was torn and stained. His left eye was swollen completely shut, a grotesque, purple monument of bruised flesh. A deep, weeping gash split his lower lip, and a dark, wet stain—blood—was spreading across the front of his white shirt. His head was slumped forward, but she could see the vacant, defeated look in his one open eye.
Samantha gasped, a strangled, choking sound. Her phone slipped from her fingers, clattering onto the pavement.
"Ren… no…"
Mochi hovered beside her, its usual glow a dim, horrified flicker. "Oh, by the gods…"
Beneath the picture, a single line of text appeared on her phone's shattered screen.
If you want him back alive, come to the abandoned Fuchu warehouse district. Pier 4.
A second line followed a moment later.
Come alone. We'll be watching.
Samantha's blood ran cold. The shadow Mochi had felt—it wasn't a vague disturbance anymore. It had a name and a location.
This was it.
She slowly bent down and picked up her phone. Her hands were no longer shaking. A terrifying, preternatural calm settled over her. The fear was still there, a supernova of terror in her chest, but it had been compressed into a diamond-hard point of pure, focused rage.
"I'm coming, Ren," she whispered to the broken image of her brother, her voice flat and cold and deadly. "I'm coming."