Chapter 1: The Night Of

Ayumi laid awake, staring at her ceiling. She had caused this. She hadn't had much time to think about it while she was in the school, but it was all HER fault. She had gotten the group to do the ritual, she had gotten them into this mess. She curled up, tears starting to surface for what seemed like the millionth time that night. 'This mess' was underselling it massively. Some her friends were dead; people where dead, because of HER and her stupid goddamn mistake.

The spiritual teen sobbed, clutching her blankets over her. She wasn't even happy that she survived. There was no joy in making it out alive, no relief. When she made it out there was no excitement. The others that made it out were happy, excited to still be alive, but Ayumi felt nothing, and she could barely force herself to walk home. She knew that she should be thankful that she was alive, but the guilt was making her wish she wasn't. Ayumi didn't want to hurt anyone or anything, she couldn't even fathom how people could purposely end a life, be it an animal, or a human.

Yet here she was, responsible for the deaths of three of her friends. Ayumi was a monster... At least, that's what she thought of herself.

A repetitive beeping noise rang through the room, surprising her and causing her to look around frantically. Her heart had almost stopped, but she felt ridiculous after realizing that it was simply her phone. She sighed, sniffled, wiped the tears out of her eyes, and picked up the phone.

Kishinuma: Hey, Shinozaki. Just got home, wanted to make sure you got home safe too.

Ayumi read the text slowly, over and over again. At least there was one reason to be happy. This boy, Yoshiki Kishinuma had helped her throughout the entirety of the night, and now he was making sure she was alright. He was the best friend someone could ask for, and she almost felt guilty for always being kinda bratty to him. Almost.

She calmed herself down as much as possible, trying not to think about the school... Heavenly Host.

Shinozaki: I'm home, are you hurt at all, Kishinuma? I know you got out okay, but cuts, bruises, maybe any broken bones? You're sure you're okay? You took a lot of beating tonight...

Kishinuma: I'm fine, thank you, are you hurt?

Shinozaki: I'm okay, thanks to you. You know I wouldn't have gotten out of there on my own, and I really owe you.

Kishinuma: Shinozaki, without you there, none of us would have been able to get out, your knowledge on ghosts and demons and all that shit saved us. Thank YOU.

Shinozaki: Without me there, you wouldn't even have been in that mess. I'm responsible for this.

Kishinuma: Don't say that... You know life will be a bit hard to get used to without the others here. I'm here for you whenever you need me.

Shinozaki: I think I'll take you up on that offer sometime, but I'm exhausted, I think I should go to sleep, goodnight Kishinuma.

Kishinuma: Goodnight.

Ayumi closed the phone, sighing and staring up at the ceiling. She wondered if Satoshi was alright. She even wondered if Naomi was alright, and usually she HATED Naomi. Ayumi thought for a second, was Yoshiki telling the truth? Was he 100% okay? He had been hurt a lot during the night, and he seemed to just shake it off every time. There was NO way that he didn't have a few broken ribs and some internal bleeding with how badly he was hit over the course of the night. She wondered briefly as to whether or not getting struck by a spirit could cause broken bones in this world.

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Yoshiki didn't think, didn't feel. He simply stared at the bathroom mirror in disbelief at what had happened. Was the blood on his hands... Was it his? Or was it someone else's? Yoshiki knew he had gotten blood on him throughout the night, but he didn't know it was as bad as it was. At this point it was dried, but it covered spots of his pants and hands, and even a little bit on his neck/face. He must have looked like a serial killer, walking up to his apartment. He shook his head, flaking off the dried blood from his cheek in a slow, precise manner. The blonde boy just wished that he hadn't stayed after that night. He wished he wasn't a part of it.

The blood on his clothes wasn't his and that shook the young man to his core. He had never seen a dead body before than night. He had never believed in ghosts before that night. He was just a care-free rebellious teen. Now? Now he didn't know how to feel about the world. He no longer just looked at the surface, as he now understood there were layers. Unlimited layers that go down to the core of all existence. Universes, millions of them, all laying on top of each other. They were the same, but not.

The dried blood flaked off of his skin, but his school uniform was soaked in a few places. He quickly undressed, feeling dirty. He was covered in the blood of people who no longer existed. He felt like throwing up but he couldn't just force it. Yoshiki knew that after a while, people would notice the absence of Mayu, Morishige and Seiko, he knew that people would ask questions. That would be just another thing he'd have to lie about. He'd have to look the police right in the eye and tell them he had no clue what happened to his friends. Could he do it? Even Yoshiki didn't know the answer to that.

"Fuck fuck fuck..." He let out in pain as he moved his shoulder. Something had to be broken, pulled, or... Something, anything. It hurt like hell. He didn't remember what could have caused it specifically but there were plenty of things in there that could have done it.

Most notable of all of his aches and pain was his head. That big monster had knocked him out at some point, at least he thought it was the big guy that hit him. Either way, Yoshiki was hit, and he was hit hard. His head ached and radiated a sharp pain every time Yoshiki even moved slightly. The next week or so until he healed were going to be a painful hell for Yoshiki, and not just because of the pain. He may have been a new member to that group of friends, but they were still the only friends he had ever had. He had a connection to them.

They were dead now. They were dead and there was nothing that Kishinuma could do to ever fix that. Every time he closed his eyes he swore he could see the faces of all the dead bodies he passed in those halls.

"I'm okay," He told himself quietly, "I'm okay." His legs quaked under his weight as he grew weak with sickness. He knelt down, not wanting to fall and hit his head again. The young man was progressively more disoriented with every blink. He could barely make out the bright features of his bathroom. His breathing was ragged and shallow, and with one last failed attempt at staying awake, he slumped back against the wall, the consciousness leaving his body.

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Naomi curled up into a ball on her bed, sobbing quietly. She had snuck into her house with no problem but the shock from the whole ordeal had just set in the moment she realized she was safe in her room. She knew Seiko wasn't coming back. She'd never see her friend again. Never was a long time, and Naomi had never fully grasped the idea of losing someone forever. Especially in such a violent and sudden fashion. She couldn't stop crying, she just couldn't force herself to stop. She felt pathetic. She felt like a worthless waste of space. She had caused Seiko's death, and that information was just too much for her.

"Please, please, please, please..." She said to herself in a shaky whimper. "It's all just a dream... Please be a dream..."

She didn't know how she was going to go on, but she knew that there'd be more. There had to be. She'd talk to Shinozaki in the morning, and she'd know what to do. Naomi would do anything just to make things go back to normal. There was so much more that she wanted to do with her friends. She never got to say goodbye. She had taken all of the lost for granted. She felt like a horrible friend, even if there was no real reason to. She needed to blame someone, or something, and the only person she could force herself to blame was herself.

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"How alive are you?"

The young boy turned his head in a panic. He didn't know whether or not he had really just heard that, or if his own mind was just playing tricks on him. What's real anymore? He sighed and shook his head.

"It'll all be better in the morning." He mumbled to himself, as he did every night.