It was the 22nd of December 2010, three days after the massacre at Dreamland Amusement Park.
The friend group had retreated to a small, rented cabin on the outskirts of town, a temporary safe haven arranged by Vey's family to keep them away from the media and the ongoing police investigation. The cabin was simple and warm, with wooden walls, a stone fireplace that crackled constantly, and windows overlooking a quiet forest covered in fresh snow. The air inside smelled of pine, woodsmoke, and the faint sweetness of hot chocolate that Mimo kept making for everyone.
They were all coping in their own fractured ways. The trauma of the park was still raw and bleeding.
Sorine spent most of her time by the fireplace, wrapped in a thick blanket. She stared into the flames as if searching for answers in the dancing light. The repeating hallway had left deep marks on her mind: the endless identical doors, the seductive whisper of never having to move forward again. She had always believed there was a path, even when it hurt. Now that belief felt fragile, like thin ice over dark water. She was quieter and more reflective, but she still tried to hold the group together with small, gentle smiles and soft words of encouragement. The snow outside made her think of her mother, the woman who had died in the massive tsunami earlier that year, and how she had always told Sorine to keep walking no matter what.
Mimo remained the steadiest on the surface. She moved through the cabin with quiet efficiency: brewing tea, preparing simple meals, staying close to Sorine. Her gentle facade was intact and her voice was soft and reassuring whenever Sorine needed it. But the others could sense the subtle detachment, the way her eyes sometimes drifted to the window as if listening for something only she could hear. The park killings had not shaken her visibly. If anything, she seemed even calmer, as if the violence had settled something inside her rather than disturbed it.
Vey sat near the window most of the time. Their hood was half-up and they stared out at the falling snow with sharp, restless eyes. Their rage toward Ren had cooled into a cold, focused determination. They were still processing the park: the bodies in the snow, the way the killers had moved with such terrifying skill. But they were already thinking ahead, making quiet plans, refusing to let fear paralyze them. The distance they kept between themselves and others felt more necessary than ever.
Kairo was the most visibly broken. Ever since the killings started, and especially since the amusement park, he had been acting traumatized. He was discharged from the hospital but looked ill still. He barely slept and jumped at every creak in the floorboards and every shadow that moved across the window. The nightmares about the masked observers had intensified and blended with the fresh memory of the blood-soaked bodies in the store. He sat curled in an armchair near the fireplace, knees drawn up and eyes distant. The guilt over Tsubaki and the night with Mimo still weighed on him like wet concrete. He had barely spoken since they arrived at the cabin. His hands trembled slightly whenever he reached for his mug of tea.
On the fourth evening, as they sat together after dinner, Sorine finally spoke.
"I have decided," she said softly. Her voice was steady despite the crack in it. "At the start of next year, I am leaving town. My mom is terrified. She wants us to move somewhere safer, away from all this. She keeps saying the town is cursed with blood and rain. I think she is right. This place… it is not safe anymore."
Mimo sat beside her. Her hand rested gently on Sorine's knee and offered silent support. Her expression was soft and protective, but there was a distant look in her eyes, the same blank calmness she had shown during the killings.
Vey nodded slowly. Their voice was quieter than usual. "Leaving makes sense. But running will not solve everything. Whatever is happening here is bigger than this town."
Kairo stared into his cup. His fingers tightened around it. He did not speak, but the news seemed to deepen the shadows under his eyes.
The conversation drifted into a thoughtful silence. The fire crackled, the snow fell outside, and the weight of Sorine's words settled over them like another layer of cold.
---
Then, on the fifth night, as they sat around the fireplace after dinner, the door to the cabin opened with a soft creak.
Ren Fushiwara stepped inside. Snow dusted his dark coat.
The reaction was immediate.
Kairo's eyes widened in pure fear. He shrank back in his chair. His hands gripped the armrests and his breathing grew fast. The sight of Ren's face triggered the memories of the observers, the Ren-faced Kyo, the blood in the store.
Mimo showed no emotion at all. Her face remained perfectly calm, almost blank, as she looked at him with the same detached serenity she had shown at the park.
Vey was instantly angry. They stood up sharply. Their fists clenched. "You have some nerve showing up here after everything."
Ren closed the door behind him. His expression was calm and composed as always. Snow melted from his coat onto the wooden floor. He raised his hands slightly in a gesture of peace.
"I need your help," he said quietly. "Especially yours, Kairo."
Kairo flinched at his name.
Ren continued. His voice was steady. "I did not plan on coming back. A certain person pressured me to return and pass information to you. I know you have all been through too much already, but you need to understand what you are up against."
He sat down on the edge of the couch. The firelight cast long shadows across his face. The group listened in tense silence as Ren began to explain, using the same careful, measured words from the original Interval, Chapter One.
"Kyo are not monsters in the traditional sense. They are living wounds made flesh, pocket spaces born from collective trauma, Kegare. They take root in places where emptiness becomes too loud: old buildings, forgotten rooms, abandoned corners of the city. They learn from the pain of those who enter them. They offer exactly what you crave most, a dead loved one returned, perfect love without distance, an end to loneliness. They change ordinary spaces into something seductive and dangerous. Some are simple loops. Others are intelligent. They wear masks. They take faces."
He paused and let the words sink in.
"There are different levels. Sighs are the lowest, abstract, low-level Kyo born from trivial negative emotions. Sometimes they live inside a person and feed on regret and longing to grant heightened intelligence or subtle abilities. Most times they live in buildings, hence the labyrinth pocket dimension Vey and Sorine both saw, fine-tuning it to what would likely make you crazy with time. They have the ability to peek into your consciousness to gauge your desires. Apparitions are higher, intelligent, masked, pacifist in nature but with dangerous psychological abilities. They observe, they manipulate minds, they never kill directly. Revenants are the most hostile. They take faces that are not theirs. They are violent, intelligent, and extremely dangerous..."
Vey interrupted. Their voice was sharp. "How do you know all this?"
Ren's eyes met Vey's steadily. "With time, you would find out. I had put it in consideration. But right now, you need to know it. Kairo's trauma is his key to unlocking Shugiin abilities. That is how all Zo get their abilities, through profound trauma that cracks open the hollow inside them. It seems necessary to know it, mainly because of the Revenant loose with my face. That Revenant is pure chaos. No other goal but to multiply trauma."
The group sat in stunned silence. The fire crackled, the snow fell outside, and the weight of Ren's words settled over them like another layer of cold.
Ren opened the door about to leave, but he paused.