The silence was heavy. No sound but the dry tick of the wall clock.
Yuta kept his eyes on the hallway.
"Removing that thing… isn't the issue."
His voice was firm, unwavering.
Megumi looked at him, then at her grandmother.
Yuta continued.
"It's trapped here. Feeding on the house's tension. Draining what's left of her… bit by bit. But also…"
He paused for a second. Breathed.
"It's what keeps your husband here."
The room froze.
The grandmother blinked slowly, as if piecing together each word.
Yuta turned, facing the man standing by the armchair.
"He's caught between two extremes. A love that holds him. And a threat that forces him to stay."
Megumi brought a hand to her mouth.
"So… he can't stay without putting her at risk?"
The old man didn't answer. But his eyes spoke for him.
Yuta took another step forward, his body now between the living room and the dark hallway.
"The presence deeper in the house isn't human. It's old. It didn't come with the family. It settled here. And now it wants more."
He glanced over his shoulder.
"If I destroy it… your grandfather will leave. Because his reason for existing here… will cease to matter."
The grandmother didn't speak.
She just closed her eyes slowly. A long sigh escaped.
Megumi squeezed her eyes shut, fists clenched at her sides.
Yuta turned fully to them.
"I can't choose between eliminating a threat or keeping a ghost. I eliminate the threat. Always."
Mrs. Katō lifted her eyes. They were watery now.
"I knew."
Her voice was almost a whisper.
"From the first day I felt him… I knew it was borrowed."
She looked at the corner of the room.
The old man watched her.
Steady. Dignified. Silent.
Megumi walked toward him, though she couldn't see him. She stopped before the empty space.
"You… were always the one holding everything together, weren't you?"
She took a deep breath.
"Thank you."
The armchair creaked as the grandmother adjusted herself. Her voice grew firmer.
"If you're going… go with honor. As you lived."
The old man nodded once. Slowly.
Yuta turned back to the hallway.
The distorted energy vibrated now. The creature knew it would be confronted.
"It's starting."
The room's air grew colder.
The curtain whipped violently.
The light flickered.
Yuta raised a hand, cursed energy beginning to flow between his fingers.
Megumi gripped her grandmother's arm.
The old man took two steps back, moving toward the hallway.
The room suddenly felt too small for them all.
The grandfather looked at his wife one last time.
She smiled.
"See you later."
Yuta furrowed his brows slightly.
'How does she know what he's doing? She has no cursed energy. Nothing to justify that kind of perception…'
The old man was already moving away, but the woman seemed to feel everything. Every step. Every gesture.
'Must be that talk of bonds, love… or some crap like that.'
He breathed slowly and spoke without looking directly at anyone:
"He can still have his final moments. He doesn't need to go deeper into the house."
The words were dry. A statement, not a request.
"He can stay here. With you. Until it's over."
The grandmother squeezed Megumi's hand, her eyes welling again.
"Thank you so much, Yuta."
Yuta didn't respond. He turned, crossed the room, and headed toward the kitchen.
The hallway walls narrowed as he advanced.
At the kitchen's entrance, the air stilled.
In the darkest corner, between the ceiling and cabinets, was something that didn't belong.
An eye.
Loose. Massive. So out of proportion it seemed to touch every corner at once. Its iris was whitish, the pupil vertical, cracked at the edges. The veins around it pulsed as if breathing.
The eye stared at him.
Yuta kept walking slowly, showing no reaction.
'This is how it presents itself…?'
He didn't stop until he was a few meters away.
He stood there, arms at his sides, eyes half-lidded.
'Disgusting.'
The eye stayed still for long seconds.
Then it blinked—a slow, wet contraction that drenched part of the wall with something thick and invisible to normal eyes.
The voice came next.
Low. Barbed. From within the walls themselves.
"You… can see me?"
Yuta tilted his head.
The voice came from the eye. But it was still just an eye. No face. No human form.
"Yes. I can see your disgusting spirit."
The eye quivered faintly. The veins around it dilated.
For a moment, it seemed pleased. As if this were a rare gift.
"Then I can…"
The wall cracked.
"…end you face-to-face."
The eye detached.
A wet, heavy sound followed, like living flesh torn from invisible bones. It spun once in the air, too fast for its size, then shot straight at Yuta's face.
The scream came before the impact.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGHHHH—"
It wasn't just a voice. It was despair. Hunger. Rage. All fused in a roar without lungs.
But it was too late.
Yuta activated his flow.
Cursed energy coated his body in an instant, rippling over his skin like a vibrant black film. A pale glow emanated from the floor, and the kitchen shuddered for half a second.
The eye slammed into it like hitting blessed concrete.
THAK!
The scream turned to a whimper.
The veins twisted. The pupil split down the middle.
Yuta took one step forward. Just one.
The energy's pressure erupted outward. Invisible to normal eyes, but felt as a jolt in the air.
The eye imploded with a sound both dry and wet—a bubble bursting from within.
SHHLK—!
Nothing remained.
No stain. No fragment.
Just silence.
Yuta breathed once, then exhaled slowly.
'Attacking head-on was the biggest mistake it could've made.'
He turned back to the living room, wiping his fingers on an old towel by the sink.
'Curses are one thing. Disorganized ghosts… that's practice.'
And he walked back to the living room without looking back.
When he entered, the air held no pressure.
Nothing clung to the walls.
No spiritual whispers crossed the corners.
Megumi was kneeling beside her grandmother, arms wrapped around her in a firm, silent embrace.
The woman stared at the space ahead—and wept quietly.
But there was no fear in her eyes.
Only farewell.
Megumi lifted her face for a moment, as if sensing the new void settle in. That absence, different from the days before. This one was real.
'He's gone…'
She didn't need to ask.
She felt it.
The grandmother ran her hand slowly through Megumi's hair, with a gentleness born not just of habit—but of relief.
When Yuta approached, the old woman raised her face slowly. Tears lingered, but her smile was faint. Mature enough to accept what had happened.
"Thank you. Not just for destroying that thing… but for helping him, too. To rest."
Yuta stopped two steps away. His eyes attentive, his body more relaxed.
"I only did this because a friend asked for help."
The grandmother nodded. Her hands still on her granddaughter's back.
Megumi turned slightly, her teary eyes meeting Yuta's. She said nothing.
But what passed between them in that moment needed no words.
The air in the house felt lighter now.
Real.
And quiet.
For the first time in a long time, truly quiet.
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