The coffee steamed gently in his cup.He sat at the kitchen table, elbows resting on the light wood, a soft light slipping through the half-open blinds.
The silence was pleasant. Rare.No one was speaking. Not yet.
Masachika brought the cup to his lips and closed his eyes. He liked this moment. Right after waking up—when the day hadn't started yet. When the world hadn't found an excuse to piss him off.
He heard footsteps in the hallway, slippers brushing the floor. He smiled without thinking.Yuki's gonna chew me out again for not emptying the dishwasher.
He set down the cup and stretched. On the table, his school bag waited—open, messy, like always.
He looked at the clock. 7:41.Not late yet. Just enough time to dawdle.
He thought about the day ahead.Mostly about Alya.She'd sit in her usual spot. So would he.And she'd look at him for half a second before turning away—like every day.And he, of course, would pretend not to notice.But he'd look.Just a bit.Always a bit.
He closed his eyes again, head resting on the back of the chair.He wanted to stay like that. Ten minutes. An hour. The whole day.
Time stretched softly.So did the silence.
Then — a sound.A sharp noise. A scrape.
Masachika lifted his head, cup still half full in his hand.Had someone knocked at the door? No.Something fallen? Maybe.But something was off.That wasn't part of the dream.
The sound came again. Closer.A creaking.A slow, wet scrape.
The silence froze.
He opened his eyes.The ceiling wasn't white anymore. It was black. Metallic.Around him: the torn-up couch, the smell of rust, the dry, saturated air.And most of all…
Someone was there.An intruder.
Not Subaru.
A stranger stood in the doorway.Tall. Silent. Dressed in a long, grey coat, hood low over a shadowed face. He didn't move. He just stared.
And Masachika, still half lying down, felt every muscle in his body tense at once.
— "Subaru!"
The shout cracked the air, sharp, brutal.
Masachika had jolted upright, breath short, muscles tight.His eyes were locked on the figure standing still in the doorway.
— "Wake up!"
He glanced back. Alya was opening her eyes slowly. Yuki was already rising, alert. Masha rubbed her eyes. Subaru jumped to his feet, still dazed.
The intruder didn't move.He just watched them.Not with hatred. Not even curiosity.
But with a strange, slow intensity—like he was trying to understand what he was looking at.Five bodies, asleep in a forgotten place.Intruders.Anomalies.
He didn't speak. Barely seemed to breathe.His long coat brushed the floor. A dark stain marked his left sleeve.
Yuki whispered:— "Who… is he?"
No one answered.The figure was still staring.Like he was hesitating—whether to move, to leave… or to wait for them to speak.
Subaru stepped forward.He didn't know why. Maybe out of habit. Maybe instinct.Maybe because someone had to say something.
— "Who are you?" he asked, voice shaking a little.
The figure didn't reply.
— "We… we're not dangerous. Just lost. Five Japanese high schoolers."
He pointed to the others, one by one.
— "We got here… I don't even know how long ago. We don't understand this place. If you know anything—anything at all, even a sign, a plan, a word…"
The man kept watching.His head tilted slightly, almost imperceptibly, to the side.
No reaction.No fear.No hostility.No compassion.
Just… emptiness.As if he were hearing a dog bark, or static on a radio.As if Subaru's words meant nothing.
— "He doesn't understand…" Masha murmured behind him.
Yuki slowly nodded, frowning.— "It's not a matter of will. It's a code problem. He doesn't speak our language."
Masachika muttered, jaw tight:— "Communication is the key. And we don't have it."
Silence fell again.The intruder stayed still.Watching them like a child staring at an anthill.
Alya stepped forward, eyes locked on the man.— "Mizu…?" she murmured.
Then, louder:— "Water. Eau. De l'eau."
No reaction. He stood frozen, eyes hidden under his hood.
She frowned, then said, calm but tired:— "Voda."
The word cracked the air.The man flinched—just slightly.His shoulder twitched. His head shifted ever so slightly.
He'd reacted.
Subaru's eyes widened.— "You… you made him move."
Alya didn't answer.She repeated, slowly, in Russian:— "Voda. Pojalusta."
One word. Then another.And before them, confusion faded.Replaced by something old. Fragile.
Maybe… a memory.
The man stayed still for a second. Then, without a word, made a slow, almost ceremonial gesture.He unclipped a canteen from his belt.Dented metal. Worn strap. But intact.
With a smooth motion, he tossed it toward Alya.She caught it easily, surprised by the precision.
Silence lingered.
She examined the canteen carefully, then slowly unscrewed the cap. A metallic smell rose—unpleasant, but not toxic.She took a sip.
The water was lukewarm. Heavy. Tasted of iron and plastic…But it was real. It was there.
She closed her eyes for a second. Let the sip settle.
Then, as she straightened slightly, she said calmly:— "Spasiba."
She tossed the canteen to Masha.She grabbed it eagerly, drank in large gulps, her face lit by genuine relief.
Then she passed it to Subaru.He thanked the man too:— "Spasiba."And drank.
Yuki came next. More careful. Slower. But she drank too.— "Spasiba."
Then Masachika. He nodded briefly before lifting the canteen:— "Spasiba."
The man hadn't moved.He just watched.Silent.Still.But there.
He didn't speak their language.But he'd understood thirst.And he had answered.
The man took a step back.Then, slowly, he raised his hand.Not toward them. Not to attack.
To show.
Under his torn coat: a short blade. A survival knife, worn, serrated handle.He didn't wave it. Didn't aim it at them.
He held it at chest height.Just enough to make the message clear.
Subaru froze.— "What the hell… He's gonna gut us after giving us water?"
He stepped back, tense, confused.
But Masachika didn't move.He frowned. Watched. Thought.
Then turned toward a locker.The old military jacket still hung on the bent door.
He approached. Searched it calmly.His fingers found the flashlight. Heavy. Still working.
He took it out.Stepped forward.No words.
Then, without drama, he tossed it toward the man.It landed with a soft clunk, rolling to his feet.
The man bent, picked it up.He studied it. Tested the switch.The light burst out—clean, white.
He stood silently for a moment.
Then, for the first time since appearing, he moved with purpose.Clipped the flashlight to his belt.Sheathed the knife slowly.And nodded. Once.
The message was clear.They understood.
Nothing is free here.
Before turning away, he looked at Alya one last time.Then, at last, he spoke—in a deep, gravelly, rusted voice:— "До свидания."Do svidanya.
And without another word, he walked away.
His steps echoed briefly on the metal floor…Then faded into the darkness of the corridor.
Subaru rushed to the door.— "Wait! Wait! Where are you going?!"
But there was nothing.Just an empty tunnel.A warm breath of air.A dying light.
— "He's… already gone," he whispered.
Masachika turned to the others, jaw clenched.— "We're not alone. Now we know."
No one spoke.But all of them understood.A line had just been crossed.
Subaru was still staring down the hallway, hoping to see that silhouette again.But the man was truly gone.
He turned to Alya, brows furrowed, hand on his hip.— "You speak Russian? Since when?"
Alya, sitting on the ground, replied without looking up:— "Since always."
Yuki raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised.— "You didn't know? Alya and Masha are Russian. They've been living in Japan for… what? Three years?"
Masha nodded gently, sitting cross-legged, hands resting on her knees.
Subaru opened his mouth, as if to respond—Then blurted, too fast:— "Ah… so that's why you're so beautiful."
Silence.
Alya slowly raised her eyes toward him.
Subaru froze. Blushed. Flailed a hand.— "No! I mean yes! But not like— I mean it's not— I wasn't trying to—"
No one helped him.
Masachika, still leaning on the wall, watched without moving. Expression blank. Almost tired.
Yuki sighed.— "Pathetic."
Masha let out a soft laugh. Then said, smiling gently:— "Don't worry. We get it. Just… clumsy."
She glanced at the empty canteen on the ground. Then up at the others.
— "Maybe this world… isn't so dark after all."
Everyone looked at her.
She added, more softly:— "That man. He gave us water. He could've robbed us. Hurt us. But he didn't. He helped. That means maybe… maybe there are good people here."
Silence settled in.
Masachika uncrossed his arms slowly, sat up straighter, and said in a calm voice:— "Or maybe… we just met a saint…"
He paused. His eyes were cold.— "…in a world full of devils."