Chapter 173: The Warning
When I arrived home, the lights were still on, but the living room was empty. The quiet hum of the clock filled the space. Keiko hadn’t come home yet.
“Rin, your mom not coming home yet?” I asked, standing by her room door, hoping maybe she had just gone to a convenience store run or something simple.
Rin looked up from her desk, a little confused. “Huh? I think she’s with you?”
That threw me off. I checked the time—9:30 p.m. already. Too late for her usual schedule.
“Try to call her, Dad. Maybe she’s still at work,” Rin suggested, her voice slightly uneasy.
“Yeah… you’re right.” I tried to sound calm, but something already felt wrong.
I left her room and dialed Keiko’s number, pressing the phone tightly against my ear.
One ring. Two. Three. Then—nothing. Straight to voicemail.
“Damn it,” I muttered, trying again. Still the same. I texted her, typing fast:
> Hey, are you still at work? Are you okay?
---
Ten minutes passed. Nothing. I stared at my phone screen, refreshing the chat like that would magically make her answer.
I called again. Straight to voicemail.
My heartbeat began to race, the kind of nervous pounding that tells you something’s not right no matter how hard you try to deny it.
I grabbed my coat. “Rin! I’ll go for a while to check your mom!” I shouted from the hallway.
“Okay, Dad. Be careful,” she replied, still sitting on her bed, eyes full of worry.
I didn’t waste a second. The night air was cold, biting against my skin as I ran. The city lights blurred as my thoughts raced faster than my legs.
Manna’s kitchen.
Maybe she stayed longer, maybe something came up—maybe. I tried to hold onto that word like a lifeline.
But the closer I got, the heavier my chest felt.
When I turned the corner, the signboard was still glowing faintly. The lights were still on inside. That was strange—we always locked up when we're closed.
I slowed down, noticing the main door slightly ajar.
“…What the hell?” I muttered.
We were strict about safety—always checking twice before leaving. Even when Keiko stayed behind to finish some reports, that wasn’t like them at all. My gut twisted. Something was off.
I took a slow breath and pushed the door open.
The faint scent of alcohol and cleaning supplies filled the air. The lights flickered softly, casting long shadows across the room. The kitchen counter was a mess—half-washed dishes, an open bottle of wine, and two glasses.
Then I froze.
Keiko was there.
But she wasn’t alone.
“Keiko…” My voice cracked as my eyes adjusted.
Across the counter, a familiar figure turned slowly, his face half-hidden by the dim light.
“Riku…” I muttered, my throat tightening.
He smiled faintly, his arm wrapped around Keiko’s shoulders from behind, holding her like a hostage.
“Didn’t I warn you before?” His voice was low, calm, almost too calm.
Keiko looked terrified. Her lips trembled as she whispered, “Ryusei…”
The sight of her like that made my blood boil. My hands curled into fists before I even realized it. “Let her go.”
Riku tilted his head, the same body, the same face as mine—but those eyes… they weren’t mine. Cold. Empty. The reflection of a soul that didn’t belong.
“Why are you here?” I demanded, trying to keep my voice steady.
He smirked. “Because you don’t know when to stop.”
I took a step forward, but he tightened his grip around Keiko’s shoulders, his fingers digging into her skin. She winced.
“Take another step, and I swear I’ll make you regret it,” Riku said, his tone dark and almost playful.
I stopped immediately, raising both hands slightly. “Alright… alright. What do you want?”
He chuckled softly. “I just wanted to remind you of something. You keep poking around my past, Ryusei. You keep trying to remember things that aren’t yours.”
My jaw clenched. “Your past? You mean Reina’s?”
For the first time, the smirk on his face twitched. His eyes narrowed just slightly. “You really don’t know when to shut up, do you?”
“Why did you switch with me? What did you do to her— to my body?” I demanded. “Tell me the truth, damn it!”
Keiko’s breath hitched, still frozen in his arms.
Riku tilted his head again, like he was amused by a child’s tantrum. “You think you deserve the truth? You’re nothing more than a borrowed soul. You think this world is yours? It never was.”
My heart pounded. I could feel the weight of his words like a knife pressing against my chest.
“Let her go,” I said again, firmer this time. “Whatever you want to say—say it to me.”
Riku leaned closer to Keiko’s ear, whispering something I couldn’t hear. She flinched, and his grin widened before he looked at me again.
“Stop looking for me, Ryusei. Stop digging around in things you don’t understand.”
“And if I don’t?” I spat back.
His expression darkened, the grin fading into something empty—hollow. “Then I’ll take everything from you.”
My pulse raced. The sound of rain began outside, faint against the glass.
“Riku, please—just let her go,” I said, my voice trembling despite myself.
He finally loosened his grip slightly. “Don’t test me again,” he murmured, his voice eerily calm. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”
Then, as if he had never been there, he pushed Keiko forward—she stumbled into my arms—and stepped back toward the door.
“Next time, I won’t come with a warning,” he said before slipping into the night.
The door creaked shut behind him.
“Keiko—hey, are you okay?” I asked quickly, holding her shoulders. Her hands were shaking, and her face pale.
“I’m fine,” she whispered weakly, still trembling. “He just… he appeared out of nowhere. Said he wanted to talk to you.”
I held her close, trying to calm her breathing. My own hands were trembling.
“What did he say to you?” I asked softly.
She shook her head, her voice breaking. “He said… you should stop. That you’re close to something you shouldn’t find out.”
Her words sent chills down my spine.
I clenched my fists again, staring at the door where Riku had disappeared. The echo of his voice still lingered in my ears.
You have no idea what you’re dealing with.
Keiko looked at me, her eyes wet. “Ryusei, promise me you won’t do something reckless.”
I nodded slowly, forcing a faint smile to reassure her. “I promise.”