The eerie silence within the classroom felt like the grim precursor to a cataclysm. For a fleeting second, it seemed as though time itself had lost its momentum and ground to a halt. At the precise moment Toko's blue fountain pen struck Mr. Sato's nostril, the very air in the room seemed to freeze into ice. Sato-Sensei's fair complexion instantly flushed a deep, volcanic crimson. Veins bulged across his forehead like azure serpents, and behind the glass of his spectacles, his eyes smoldered like dying embers. Every jagged breath he exhaled seemed to suck the oxygen right out of the room.
"Toko! Sima! Out... out of this classroom this instant! I shall grant you a lesson today that you will not forget in your next seven lifetimes!" Sato-Sensei's voice did not sound human; it was the guttural roar of a wounded tiger, echoing relentlessly against the corridor walls.
Sima and Toko scrambled from their seats as if struck by a high-voltage surge. Sima's heart hammered against her ribs like a blacksmith's bellows; she felt as though it might burst through her throat at any second. She stole a sideways glance at Toko—the habitual, confident smirk was gone. His face had turned ashen, the picture of a cornered criminal. Meanwhile, Kima was huddled in her seat, nearly delirious with suppressed laughter, clutching her stomach to keep the sound from escaping. The rest of the class—Kaima, Nanaki, and the others—watched with bated breath. They knew only too well how stubborn and severe Sato-Sensei could be. Kaima whispered into Nanaki's ear, "They're in for it now. Sato-Sensei won't leave a single bone in their bodies intact. Just watch!"
Once in the corridor, Sato-Sensei was not satisfied with merely making them hold their ears in shame. His fury was stratospheric. He summoned the school janitor and ordered six buckets of murky, foul-smelling wastewater used for cleaning the adjacent classrooms. He thrust two heavy iron buckets into Toko's hands and two into Sima's. But the true theatricality of the punishment was yet to come. Sato-Sensei himself stepped forward and, with terrifying precision, balanced a brimming bucket of filthy water atop each of their heads.
"Don't you dare move!" Sato-Sensei whispered in a low, bone-chilling tone. "If those buckets shift even a fraction of an inch, or if a single drop of this water touches the floor, I will stand you both in the middle of the school field. The entire student body will witness your humiliation. Do not forget that!"
Toko and Sima's predicament was beyond description. The immense weight of the buckets exerted a grueling pressure on the vertebrae of their necks. The pungent, putrid stench of the stagnant water assailed their senses, becoming almost unbearable. A single twitch would drench their expensive white school uniforms in filth. Through the classroom window, Kima and the other students peered out, erupting in muffled fits of laughter at the ridiculous spectacle. Standing on the cold corridor floor, Sima felt her legs going numb. Every second felt like an eon. The muscles in her neck were screaming, yet she dared not flinch.
Sima gritted her teeth and hissed at Toko with a murderous glare, "I didn't even win the pen-fight, and now, thanks to your insanity, I'm trapped in this living hell. My dreams of a premium sushi set and steaming spicy miso ramen are gone! This is all your fault, Toko!"
Sweat poured down Toko's forehead, but he couldn't lift a hand to wipe it away. He replied through clenched teeth, "Shut up, Sima! Your jaw is making your head wobble. If that bucket falls, I know you'll blame me. Just stand still as a statue!"
Sima glared at him in rage, but a moment later, her anger transformed into a strange, involuntary fascination. The soft light of the rainy day filtered through the window, catching Toko's features. His neatly combed hair had become slightly dishevelled, falling across his brow. For some reason, he looked inexplicably calm and handsome—like the mysterious protagonist of an anime film. Sima's irritation evaporated like camphor; her eyes began to sparkle with admiration. When Toko suddenly glanced at her, Sima looked away in embarrassment, staring at the grey sky outside and attempting to whistle tunelessly. This new side of Toko tugged at her subconscious. She wondered, where had he been all this time? Why had he changed so abruptly?
"What is it? Why were you staring at me like that?" Toko whispered, knitting his brows.
Sima's fair cheeks instantly turned the color of a ripe strawberry. She stammered awkwardly, "N... nothing! Just look ahead, you idiot!"
[Present Day: A Rainy Afternoon]
"Auntie, may I come in?" Hearing Toko's familiar, calm voice, Sima's mother looked toward the door from the kitchen. Inside the house, the earthy scent of the rain mingled with the faint, pleasant fragrance of Toko's cologne.
"Yes, Toko, of course. Come in, dear. Sima is in her room; I believe she's studying," her mother replied with a gentle smile.
Sima was sitting at her study desk, lost in deep thought. The pages of the biology textbook before her fluttered in the breeze. Toko entered silently and, without a word, gave Sima's head a playful flick. "What are you thinking about, Penguin? Let's sit in your room."
Sima jumped nearly three feet in the air as if she'd been electrocuted. "What! Go to my room? But my room is a disaster zone right now! You are absolutely not coming in!"
Toko shrugged his expensive laptop bag off his shoulder with a teasing smirk. "What's there to be nervous about? When I used to visit, your room was worse than a slum's dumpster. You weren't embarrassed to show it to me then, so why the sudden drama?"
"Whatever! You stand right here like a statue for ten minutes. Don't you dare move until I say so!" With that, Sima bolted toward her room. She knew there were crumpled pillows on the bed and laundry scattered across the floor. In a frantic blur, she stuffed everything into the wardrobe. She caught her finger in the door as she slammed it shut, but she didn't have time to feel the pain. She hurriedly smoothed her hair in the mirror and called down to Toko, "Fine, you can come up now!"
Toko entered and surveyed the surroundings. Though the room appeared clean on the surface, he knew exactly what chaos was hidden behind the wardrobe doors. He let out a long sigh and looked into Sima's eyes. "How have you been, Sima? It's been a long time since we've seen each other face-to-face."
Sima's cheerful expression darkened like a storm cloud. She spoke in a voice heavy with resentment. "I'm fine. I'm sure you've been doing great, Toko. You went off for summer vacation so far away, leaving me behind. Did it never occur to you to check in or even send a text? Am I no one to you? You could have called at least once!"
Toko looked out at the relentless downpour and offered a faint, melancholy smile. A certain mystery danced in his eyes. "It was nothing like that. I enjoyed the sea, and the time passed well. But... I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss you. Seeing the blue waves always reminded me of you."
"So, aren't you going back to school? It opened ages ago," Sima asked, fidgeting aimlessly with her favorite pen-holder to hide her unease.
"That's the plan. I'll start regular classes next week," Toko replied casually.
"Our mid-year exams start next week, Toko!" Sima said, her eyes wide with disbelief.
Toko nearly leapt off the sofa, his eyes bulging. "What! Exams? Next week?"
Sima let out a derisive laugh. "I had the exact same reaction when Kima told me. You just got back from abroad and the toughest exams are right around the corner. Good luck with that! If you don't study, you're definitely going to fail."
Outside, the intensity of the rain increased. The windows rattled under the force of the wind, raindrops creating intricate patterns against the glass. Toko moved to the window, his gaze fixed on the grey world outside. "The rain's really coming down now. How am I going to get home? I didn't even bring an umbrella."
Sima reassured him, "Don't worry, we have a massive umbrella. I'll walk you to the store. There's lightning out there; it isn't safe for you to go alone."
Toko hesitated. "No, just give me the umbrella. I can manage. Auntie will scold you if you get drenched." Then, a sly grin spread across his face. "By the way, Sima... do you remember that mechanical-voiced phone call you got about ten minutes before I arrived?"
Sima's mind instantly connected the dots. She gasped, her mouth falling open. "What! That was you? That robotic voice was yours? You were scaring me like that with stories of burglars and murderers? You jerk!"
Overcome by rage and adrenaline, Sima vaulted onto Toko's back. She tangled her hands in his hair and yanked, twisting his face. "You little brat! I'm going to kill you! Why did you scare me like that? I was nearly paralyzed with fear! You've got some nerve!"
Toko struggled to support her weight, wincing and laughing simultaneously. "Sima, calm down! I was just teasing you! I wanted to see how much courage you actually had!"
[The Turning Point: A Dark Alleyway]
A short while after Toko left, the landline on Sima's study table rang. Her father was stranded at the railway station due to the heavy rain. Her mother called up from the kitchen, "Sima, your father is stuck at the station. Go, dear, take an umbrella and bring him home. The roads are slippery, and he has a lot of luggage."
Sima quickly grabbed a small umbrella for herself and a large one for her father and headed out. The rain had taken on a cataclysmic quality. Large droplets struck her skin like piercing arrows. The neon streetlights glowed hazily through the mist and rain, reminiscent of a scene from a horror movie. At the station, she found her father huddled in a corner, watching the rain. She waved and called out from a distance, "Dad! I'm here!"
Her father smiled warmly and stepped under her umbrella. "I bought those expensive Belgian chocolates you've been wanting for so long on the way back from the office."
Sima's heart instantly swelled with joy. All her frustrations seemed to wash away. "Thanks, Dad! You're the best! Oh, Dad... I've run out of exam pens and markers. Could you give me some Yen? I'll pick them up from the store and head straight home." Her father handed her the money and began his slow walk back toward the house.
As she left the store, the rhythmic drumming of the rain became harsher and heavier. Sima gripped her umbrella tightly as she walked through the narrow lanes of their neighborhood. The echoes of Toko's laughter and Sato-Sensei's roar replayed in her mind. Suddenly, from a dark, damp crevice in the alleyway, a peculiar 'scrunching' sound—like the snapping of bone—reached her ears. Driven by intense curiosity and a creeping dread, she moved toward the dark alcove. Her legs felt weak, yet some unknown force drew her forward.
What she saw there was something no human being is ever prepared to witness. A grotesque, massive, off-white and olive-colored monstrous figure sat hunched over. A foul, putrid scent of rotting flesh wafted from it. As she tilted her head to see further, Sima's heart seemed to stop for a heartbeat. Her pupils froze. The hideous creature was tearing flesh from the lifeless body of a woman! A small stream of blood had formed, being washed away by the rainwater.
The creature's anatomy was not human. Its legs had erupted through the bone and skin of its back in a sickeningly twisted fashion. Its massive hands wriggled atop its head like the tentacles of an octopus, each finger ending in long, jet-black talons. It had no eyes, no nose; only a wide, gaping maw drenched in fresh blood. The sound of its breathing was like air rushing into a deep, hollow pit.
Terrified, Sima's limbs turned to ice. The blood in her veins seemed to freeze solid. She wanted to scream, but the sound was trapped in her throat. Her numb fingers lost their grip, and the plastic bag of pens crashed to the floor. The sound of the plastic echoed through the silent alley like a cannon blast.
The creature—the 'Kimon'—slowly rotated its neck 180 degrees toward the source of the noise. The sound of snapping bone struck Sima's ears like a thunderclap. Gazing at its blood-smeared face, from which crimson droplets fell, Sima felt as though she were staring into the darkest abyss of hell. The Kimon let out a low, guttural growl that belonged to no human tongue. A terrifying silence swallowed the alleyway, drowning even the sound of the rain. Sima realized that death was standing over her, smiling. Her imagination had ceased to function; before her now was only a primal, absolute fear...