Theresa's gaze fluttered, her vision gradually clearing as she emerged from the suffocating embrace of darkness and cold. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, a sliver of light pierced through the haze.










Tentatively, she extended her fingers, brushing against the chill of the sheets that enveloped the mattress, their scent tinged with the sterile sting of chlorine.










A sudden clarity washed over her as the fragments of memory reassembled. She was in the hospital, having accompanied Christian and Kathleen, yet she recalled with unsettling precision the moment she had collapsed—overcome by a vision that had seized her.









Gradually, her eyelids fluttered open, revealing a world awash in sterile brightness. The overhead light was sharp and unyielding, forcing her to squint as her eyes adjusted to the glare. Shapes came into focus slowly, and her gaze drifted to the side.








There, she noticed Takumi, his movements meticulous as he busied himself arranging a collection of food containers on the small bedside table. Each item was placed with care, as though the act itself carried significance beyond practicality.








For a moment, he seemed entirely absorbed in his task, his posture composed yet subtly tense. Then, as if sensing her awakening, he glanced her way. A faint, reassuring smile curved his lips, softening the otherwise serious expression that seemed to perpetually reside on his face.








"Ah, you're awake," Takumi remarked, his voice low and warm. He immediately reached for the nurse call button mounted above her bed, his fingers brushing against it with practiced ease.








Theresa swallowed, her throat dry and voice hoarse, but she managed to speak. "Y-Yeah," she rasped, her words barely audible at first. She cleared her throat before continuing, her curiosity tinged with mild confusion. "W-Why are you here... alone?"








The thought lingered uneasily in her mind, accompanied by a growing awareness of the silence that enveloped them. It was the kind of silence that felt both oppressive and comforting, broken only by the steady rhythm of the medical equipment—a mechanical heartbeat that reminded her she was alive, albeit fragile.








Though her body was weak and every movement felt like wading through molasses, she summoned the strength to shift her gaze. Slowly, she turned her head away from him, her breaths shallow but determined. The realization that they were utterly alone in the room unnerved her and if she didn't turn away, Takumi would have caught her blushing.








The nurses arrived swiftly, followed by the doctor, their presence momentarily breaking the stifling stillness of the room. Takumi’s eyes flicked toward the door, a trace of expectation visible in his gaze.







It wasn’t lost on Theresa—she noticed the fleeting disappointment that crossed his face when the person he seemed to be waiting for didn’t appear. But just as quickly as it came, he masked it, redirecting his focus to the examination at hand.







The doctor began asking her a series of routine questions, their tone professional yet brisk. Theresa answered as best as her still-recovering mind allowed, observing Takumi from the corner of her eye as he leaned back against the wall, his expression unreadable.







He remained silent, his posture casual, though there was a palpable tension in the way his arms were crossed, as though he was shielding himself from an unspoken thought.







Once the examination was complete and her condition deemed stable, the medical staff exited the room. The air returned to its earlier stillness, leaving Theresa and Takumi alone once more. The quiet between them seemed louder now, thick with unsaid words.







“You’ll be discharged tonight,” Takumi finally broke the silence. Without waiting for her response, he retrieved a small knife and an apple from the table. With practiced precision, he began peeling the fruit, the soft scraping sound filling the void.







Theresa watched, her thoughts racing as she tried to process everything—the vision, her collapse, and now the man in front of her who seemed simultaneously distant and present. She couldn’t help but notice his slender fingers as he took each slice, his movements measured, as though he were pouring his focus into the task to avoid confronting something deeper.







He handed her a perfectly cut slice without throwing her a look. She accepted it wordlessly, though inwardly, her mind was screaming.







“W-What about Kathleen?” Theresa asked, her voice trembling as the memory of what happened before her collapse resurfaced.






Her wide eyes sought Takumi’s face, searching for answers. The calm expression he wore immediately lifted a weight off her chest.






“She’s fine,” he reassured her with a gentle smile. “She didn’t bind herself to any demon, nor did she open a portal.”






Theresa let out a deep sigh of relief. “That’s good to know. I suppose... my vision must have been altered somehow.”






“Perhaps,” Takumi replied noncommittally, placing the peeled apple slices neatly on a plate. He stood and made his way to the bathroom sink, washing his hands with grace and poise.





The sound of running water was the only noise in the room, a brief reprieve from the tension.






When he returned, drying his hands with a tissue, Theresa couldn’t help but watch him. His movements were smooth, purposeful, and oddly mesmerizing. She caught herself staring and quickly averted her gaze, her cheeks warming.






Takumi sat back down, his demeanor calm. “Now, about this vision of yours,” he began. “What exactly did you see?”






Theresa blinked, caught off guard by the shift in the conversation. “I-I don’t recall clearly,” she admitted, her gaze dropping to her plastered hand where the IV line was connected. “It was a woman. I remember that much. I know her, or at least I think I do... but I can’t seem to remember who she is.”






Takumi’s brow furrowed slightly. Though her explanation left much to be desired, he chose not to press her further. Considering the bizarre nature of the events surrounding them, he knew better than to dismiss her uncertainty.






After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat. “Can you do me a favor?” he asked, his tone softer now, almost imploring.






Theresa hesitated. “What kind of favor?”






“Try to remember who that woman is,” he urged. His voice was steady, but there was a gravity to his request that made her pause.






She stared at him, her thoughts racing. The woman in her vision must be important—her presence likely held significance for their future. But for Takumi himself to ask this of her? That was unexpected.






If it had been Tomoya making the request, she would have felt freer to decline, knowing he’d likely laugh it off. But Takumi? His seriousness left little room for refusal.






“Damn that conniving bastard,” she cursed silently, picturing Tomoya’s smug face. She could almost hear his gleeful laughter echoing in the back of her mind. It wasn’t hard to imagine that he’d suggested Takumi approach her for this very purpose.






“Of course,” she forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.






“Thank you,” Takumi said, his own smile mirroring her feigned politeness. “One more thing,” he added, his tone becoming more tentative. “We didn’t inform any of your family about what happened. Not yet, at least…”






He trailed off, gauging her reaction carefully. When Theresa offered a small, understanding smile, he exhaled in relief.






“It’s okay,” she assured him. “They wouldn’t mind even if they knew.”






Takumi, ever observant, recalled snippets of what little he knew about Theresa’s family. Though his knowledge was limited, he was certain their relationship was strained at best. It was enough to convince him that leaving her family out of the loop was the wiser choice. The last thing he wanted was to wade into family matters he had no place meddling in.





“Excuse me for a moment,” he said calmly, rising from his seat. “I’ll take care of the bills.”





Theresa’s eyes widened, her voice quick with protest. “Takumi, wait! I don’t need—”





But before she could finish, he was already out the door, leaving no room for argument. She sighed in frustration, her fists clenching the thin hospital sheets. Accepting help, especially from someone she likes, was a bitter pill to swallow. She prided herself on her independence, yet here she was, unable to stop him.





Left alone, the quiet of the room began to press down on her. Taking a deep breath, Theresa closed her eyes, trying to calm her mind. Focus. She needed to remember—needed to know who that woman was.





The faint memory resurfaced, hazy and fragmented. A figure standing beside Christian, her presence commanding yet strangely familiar. The woman had been speaking—words that seemed crucial, though now they slipped away like sand through her fingers. The harder Theresa tried to grasp the memory, the more elusive it became.





Her breathing quickened as frustration mounted. She clutched her head, as though the pressure might force the memory to reveal itself. Her mind raced, fragments of the vision flashing in rapid succession. The woman’s face, her voice, her stance—they were all just beyond reach.





“Why... why can’t I remember?” she whispered, her voice trembling. A sudden wave of nausea washed over her, and she opened her eyes, panting. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her body felt as though she’d been through an intense physical ordeal.





Her fists clenched, nails digging into her palms as she muttered to herself, “J-Just why the hell can’t I remember anything?”





The sense of helplessness gnawed at her, but a flicker of determination pushed through. Theresa knew she couldn’t afford to let this go, now that—now that Takumi asked for it himself.




The door creaked open, and Theresa immediately braced herself, ready to refuse Takumi’s help once again. She took a deep breath, words already forming on her tongue. But as her gaze shifted to the figure entering the room, her breath hitched, and the prepared protest died in her throat.



It wasn’t Takumi.



Standing there, framed by the sterile light of the hospital hallway, was someone she never expected to see.



"W-What are you doing here?" she stammered, her voice trembling with a mixture of shock and disbelief.



The figure stepped inside, closing the door softly behind them. Their expression was unreadable, though their presence alone seemed to weigh heavily in the small hospital room.



"I believe you are the one gifted with foresight," the woman remarked with an almost childlike enthusiasm, while the man behind her stood silent and impassive.



"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about," Theresa replied curtly, her tone sharp and defensive. "And as far as I’m concerned, uninvited guests have no business being in a patient’s room."



Kim tilted her head slightly, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Oh, come now, Theresa. We both know that’s not true."



"You’re mistaken," Theresa retorted, her voice firm and unwavering. "And even if I did know what you were insinuating, it doesn’t explain why you’re here. What exactly do you want?"



Kim let out a soft, mocking laugh. "By the way you’re speaking, it’s clear you know exactly what I’m talking about."



Theresa smirked in return, her expression laced with derision. "Oh, believe me, I don’t. But if you won’t leave, I’ll be more than happy to call security to have you escorted out." Her eyes flicked to the man standing silently behind Kim—Kaiser. His stoic demeanor unsettled her, but she refused to let it show.



Kim’s grin widened as though she found the whole situation amusing. "There’s no need for such dramatics," she said lightly. "We’ll leave willingly if you insist. But if we do, you’ll never find out what happened last night."



Theresa’s brow furrowed, a small but telling twitch betraying her composure. "I already know," she replied evenly, though the certainty in her tone faltered just enough to make Kim’s grin deepen.



"Do you?" Kim raised a finger, her voice dripping with mock curiosity. "From the way you said that, I’m guessing no one’s bothered to tell you the truth."



For the first time, Theresa hesitated. What was Kim talking about? Had something significant occurred? The thought gnawed at her, especially considering that Takumi, who had been with her earlier, hadn’t mentioned anything unusual. He’d specifically assured her that Kathleen hadn’t opened a portal.



Kim’s voice broke through her thoughts, now tinged with mock pity. "Oh, you poor thing. They didn’t trust you enough to tell you, did they? Even after you risked so much to help them with your... little gift."



Theresa’s jaw tightened, but she said nothing.



Kim shrugged nonchalantly, her tone turning cruel. "Then again, it’s not surprising. Everyone seems to think of your so-called gift as nothing more than a curse—"



"What do you want from me?" Theresa snapped, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade.



Kim’s smile morphed into something more sinister, her eyes glinting with satisfaction at having struck a nerve. "Simple, really," she said, her tone light yet chilling. "I want you to work with us."



Theresa’s eyes narrowed, her distrust evident. "And why would I ever do that? As far as I understand, you claim to be Samantha’s friends. By default, that should make you allies with Takumi and the others. So why do you speak as though you’re deliberately tarnishing their image in front of me?"



"Friends?" Kim repeated with a laugh, her tone dripping with mockery. "If we were truly her friends, we’d be with them, wouldn’t we? It certainly would not be you who is helping them."



"So, you’re admitting you deceived them?" Theresa countered, her voice sharp and unyielding. "Why? Is it because you found out something that Samantha is capable of that serves you well?"



The question caught Kim off guard, her composure faltering for just a moment. She hadn’t expected Theresa to push back so decisively. The mental resilience Theresa displayed was far from the fragile state Kim had anticipated.



Despite Kim’s knowledge of Theresa’s foresight and the painful fallout it had caused within her family, it seemed her efforts to unsettle her had fallen flat.



"I may not know who you really are or what you want," Theresa continued, her voice steady and cutting, "but one thing is clear—you are not our allies. Manipulators like you, who twist and distort people’s lives for your own purposes, can’t be trusted."



Kim smirked, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as though unaffected by the accusation. "Oh, Theresa, you’re so naive. Do you really believe they’re any better? Do you think Takumi and the others wouldn’t discard you the moment you outlive your usefulness?" Her words dripped with venom, each syllable calculated to sow doubt.



Theresa didn’t flinch, her silence defying Kim’s attempts to rattle her.



Kim sighed theatrically, her expression one of exaggerated pity as she turned toward the door. "Suit yourself," she said with a dismissive shrug. "But don’t say we didn’t warn you."



With that, Kim exited the room, leaving Kaiser behind. He remained silent as he stepped forward, withdrawing a calling card from the pocket of his coat. Without a word, he placed it on the bedside table and followed Kim out.



For a moment, the room was steeped in silence. Theresa sat motionless, her mind racing as she tried to process the encounter. Her thoughts were a whirlwind of questions. How had they known about her foresight? Who could have leaked such sensitive information?



Her immediate instincts ruled out Takumi, Tomoya, Kathleen—and certainly Christian.



As if on cue, the door creaked open again. Without thinking, she grabbed the calling card, quickly trying to hide it, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. Maybe it was just a feeling that she might need it later—either to figure out what Kim and Kaiser were up to or to give herself a bit more security in the situation.