Tomoya paused, forcing a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Oh? Nothing. I know them—they were just checking in after last night’s earthquake.”
The lie came easily, but he felt the weight of it. The truth about the officers’ presence wasn’t something Kathleen needed to know right now. She nodded, seemingly placated, and waved him off.
Christian’s voice broke the fragile quiet. “S-So, what do we do with Samantha now?” His question earned him a sharp glare from Kathleen, her frustration evident.
“She’ll stay here,” Takumi stated with authority, cutting through the brewing tension. “I’ll take care of her.” Kathleen wanted to argue, her instincts urging her to take Samantha home, but the risks were too great. She bit her lip and reluctantly agreed, knowing it was the safer choice.
Takumi’s focus shifted to Junel, who lay apart from the group, shrouded in silence. Moving closer, Takumi leaned in, his tone low and foreboding. “I expect answers when I return,” he warned, his patience waning. But Junel remained stoic, his silence an immovable wall.
Sighing inwardly, Takumi turned his attention to Samantha, crouching near her head for a closer look. “She really does look different,” he muttered, his eyes scanning her face.
Kathleen nodded, her voice soft but pained. “She looks like she’s aged years in that place. It must have been horrible.”
“Of course,” Takumi agreed. “That realm isn’t meant for human bodies. She’s lucky she didn’t completely wilt away.”
As he brushed a hand against Samantha’s cheek, Takumi froze, startled his own gesture. Kathleen’s raised brow and a teasing tone cut through his thoughts.
“Ohhh, now I see why you want her to stay here,” she quipped, her mockery blatant. Takumi stiffened, quickly withdrawing his hand.
“If you can afford all the medical equipment,” he countered, gesturing to the apparatus keeping Samantha stable, “you’re welcome to take her with you.”
Kathleen smirked, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I can visit her here. Don’t be shy—you’ve done so much for her already. If you want her here, you have my blessing.”
Takumi grimaced, waving off her words with a curt “Sure.” But the faint flush on his face betrayed him, and Kathleen couldn’t suppress a grin as she leaned back, satisfied.
"Do you have a plan for her?" Christian's voice cut through the tension, his question charged with unspoken urgency. It was a question they all silently shared, one that demanded answers. "We all know the authorities are searching for her. Keeping her here without informing them could be considered abduction."
Takumi's gaze dropped momentarily before he responded, his voice measured but firm. "And yet, surrendering her to them without understanding her condition could lead to catastrophic consequences—not just for her but for all of us. We need clarity first, confirmation of whether she can truly recover or if..." His voice trailed off, and his eyes met Kathleen's. "Or if it's already really too late."
Christian refrained from arguing further. He could sense the weight of their collective resolve, especially Kathleen's. With Samantha's reappearance, even in her current state, there was no possibility of abandoning her to an uncertain fate. The stakes were too high, the bonds too deep.
Gently, Christian placed a reassuring hand on Kathleen's shoulder. "She'll be fine, love," he murmured, his tone both hopeful and steady. "At least we have her here now. It’s a start—one step at a time."
Kathleen's eyes glistened as she reached for Samantha's cold, lifeless hand. "Of course," she whispered, determination lacing her voice. "I’ll do whatever it takes for her." Her resolve sent a quiet chill through Christian, but he chose to dismiss his unease, focusing instead on the strange stillness in the air.
Ever since he regained consciousness after being sedated, a peculiar absence lingered. The dead, who once haunted his vision relentlessly, were now nowhere to be seen. Had Samantha's return somehow severed this unsettling connection? Or was it merely a temporary reprieve? Christian’s mind raced with questions, their answers eluding him like fleeting shadows.
Takumi noticed Christian’s furrowed brows but refrained from prying. The man had just awakened and clearly had much to process. Instead, Takumi suggested that Christian and Kathleen rest in one of the guest rooms. However, Christian, with his characteristic sense of responsibility, insisted on returning home to see his mother.
The suggestion didn’t sit well with Kathleen, and Takumi understood why. He had earlier urged her to notify Christian's parents about the recent events, but Kathleen had been too distracted, her thoughts consumed by Samantha's condition.
Moreover, given the demonic nature of Christian’s ordeal, Takumi reasoned that keeping his family at a distance was perhaps the safest course of action. Some truths, after all, were better left unspoken.
The moment Christian and Kathleen left, Tomoya just then decided to enter cautiously, the door creaking as he stepped in and saw Takumi standing motionless by Samantha's side, his gaze fixed on her still form.
Breaking the heavy atmosphere, Tomoya leaned against the doorway with a mischievous grin. "Oh, Shane is still technically my ex, nii-san," he quipped, the teasing edge in his voice unmistakable.
Takumi turned slowly, his brow arching in a look of incredulity. "So?" he responded, his tone neutral but challenging.
Feigning hurt, Tomoya dramatically placed a hand over his chest. "W-Well," he began with mock hesitation, "I just think it’s a bit strange if you’ve taken a liking to her, considering, you know, we had something in the past—"
Takumi cut him off with a tired roll of his eyes. "That’s not what I meant," he clarified sharply before returning his gaze to Samantha. A rare softness crept into his voice. "I don’t even know if she ever thought of me as a friend, but I’m... really glad she’s here. That’s all."
Tomoya chuckled, his eyes narrowing playfully as he sidled closer, elbowing Takumi in the side. "Ey! Don’t give me that excuse. We both know you like her because of her—"
"Tomoya!" Takumi snapped, the sharpness in his voice startling enough to halt Tomoya mid-sentence.
Tomoya raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning sheepishly. "Gomen, gomen!" he replied with a laugh, stepping back and relenting—for now. Yet, the mischievous twinkle in his eye betrayed his amusement at having ruffled Takumi's composure, even if only slightly.
"So, you got anything from the grimoire?" he asked, his voice calm but laced with expectation.
Tomoya hesitated, scratching the back of his head in frustration. "Nothing, honestly," he admitted and instinctively reached into his coat to retrieve the mistress's grimoire. However, as his fingers brushed against its spine, he remembered Junel is still with them. Just then, a memory flashed into his mind—Kaiser and Kim's betrayal.
His grip tightened, and he swiftly tucked the grimoire back into his coat. With Junel still in the room, trust was a commodity Tomoya couldn't afford to squander.
Shifting his focus, Tomoya walked over to Junel, who remained unmoving on the bed. The faint light in the room casts shadows over Junel's face, masking his expression in an unreadable stillness. Tomoya perched lightly on the edge of the mattress, leaning closer to him, his voice adopting a casual, almost teasing tone.
"Hey, you good?" he began, trying to break the silence. His words hung in the air, unanswered, as Junel's stillness persisted.
Undeterred, Tomoya pressed on, his tone softening but carrying a weight of implication. "You can talk to us, you know. I mean, you must already have some idea of what's going on here. Otherwise, you wouldn't have been there," he remarked, his gaze flickering briefly to Takumi before returning to the motionless figure. Junel’s lack of response was deafening, a stark reminder of the mysteries he carried with him.
Takumi observed the interaction silently from across the room, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. He crossed his arms, leaning against the wall, waiting for Junel to speak—or for Tomoya’s persistence to crack through whatever walls the man had built around himself.
But the silence stretched on, suffocating and unyielding, leaving the two to wonder just what truths Junel was guarding so carefully.
For a fleeting moment, Tomoya considered revealing everything he knew about Kaiser and Kim to catch Junel off guard. The thought lingered, tempting him, but he dismissed it almost immediately. The act felt cruel, and despite his frustration, Tomoya couldn't bring himself to stoop to such a level. Instead, he exhaled deeply and decided on a gentler approach.
“Well then,” Tomoya said, his voice tinged with resignation. “We’ll just have to move Shane to another room. We’ll be outside, waiting. And just so you know,” he added, his tone sharpening slightly, “we have people watching you here. If you’re planning any sort of escape, it won’t work.” He allowed his words to linger, hoping to evoke some reaction from Junel.
Tomoya turned to leave, believing the silence would hold, but then he heard it—a faint whisper, barely audible but enough to halt him in his tracks. “I didn’t see anything… that might become helpful,” Junel murmured, his voice trembling. Both Tomoya and Takumi snapped their attention back to him, their interest piqued by the sudden confession.
Junel’s voice wavered as he continued, every word strained and heavy with uncertainty. “I-I was only told to go there to stop Kathleen from opening a portal,” he admitted, his tone breaking under the weight of his fear.
“I don’t even know what that is, but… I went there anyway and saw the turmoil. I thought it was just… natural phenomena.” His words painted a picture of confusion and dread, though his refusal to turn and face them spoke volumes about his apprehension.
He paused, his breaths shallow, before adding, “I-I was told Kathleen would be there. I know she’s been suffering a lot… with what happened to Samantha and Christian, and I wanted to help, no matter what she was doing there. B-But…”
His voice faltered, and he swallowed hard before continuing, “When I entered Samantha’s house, I immediately blacked out.” The revelation hung in the air, thick with unspoken implications, as Junel kept his back to them, too afraid to meet their eyes tho he didn't know exactly why.
“And?” Takumi prompted, his tone measured but insistent as Junel lapsed into silence once more.
“T-That’s all,” Junel replied hesitantly, clearing his throat as if to regain composure.
Takumi’s eyes narrowed slightly, his voice now edged with scrutiny. “If that’s truly all, then why did it take you too much time before speaking?” he asked, his words carrying an almost surgical precision.
The question seemed to have tighten the tension in Junel’s posture, his neck muscles visibly stiffening under the weight of Takumi’s gaze from behind.
“You see, Junel, that explanation lacks coherence,” Takumi continued, his tone calm yet probing. “I suspect you already understand the nature of my profession, which is likely why you’re so adamantly avoiding eye contact. But let me clarify something,” he paused, allowing the weight of his words to sink in.
“Psychiatrists do not read minds,” Takumi explained, his voice now deliberate and calculating. “We interpret actions—subtle, often involuntary movements that speak louder than words. Direct eye contact is unnecessary because the truth is embedded in the way one carries themselves.”
Tomoya remained silent, though inwardly he couldn’t help but admire his cousin’s sharp intellect, a sense of pride washing over him like that of a parent watching their child excel.
“So,” Takumi pressed, his voice steady but laced with quiet insistence, “what’s it going to be?” His words carried the weight of a subtle ultimatum, leaving Junel with no room for evasion.
Junel exhaled heavily, resigning himself to the inevitable. Accepting that there was no escaping Takumi’s probing, he finally forced himself upright, shifting to face them directly. His movements were deliberate, almost hesitant, as he pulled out the intravenous cannula—a slender device designed to deliver fluids directly into his bloodstream—from the vein in his hand.
A small bead of blood welled up from the puncture site, trickling down his hand. Unbothered, Junel simply wiped it against his shirt, the crimson smear contrasting sharply with the fabric as he sat upright beside Tomoya, preparing himself for the confrontation ahead.
Junel’s voice carried a brittle edge as he spoke, cutting straight to the point. “I believe you knew Jess,” he began, his tone devoid of hesitation. “I don’t know how she knew, but she’s the one who told me about the portal—and that…” He paused, his jaw tightening, though his resolve remained unshaken. “…that something would inevitably go wrong if things continued according to Kaiser’s plans.”
Takumi and Tomoya exchanged startled glances, the weight of Junel’s revelation hanging heavily in the room.
“Why? What was he planning?” Tomoya finally broke the silence, his curiosity laced with urgency.
Junel sighed, his expression clouded with frustration. “I do not know this time. I truly don't,” he admitted, moistening his dry lips as though to steady himself. “I really thought I knew them—Scott, Kaiser, Kim… even Samantha.” His voice faltered as a faint, bitter laugh escaped him. His eyes briefly flickered to Samantha, who lay unmoving nearby.
“But when she disappeared, and Scott barely survived… I watched them all change,” Junel continued, his gaze drifting to the ceiling. His eyes glistened, betraying a raw emotion Tomoya hadn’t seen before. “No. No,” he corrected himself, the words tumbling out with grim finality. “They didn’t change. I just realized I never truly knew them—what they really are. Not my cousin, not my girlfriend.”