The first night in the new apartment is quiet, almost too quiet. Mitsuya sets down his last box with a satisfied sigh, surveying the space that’s now his home. The apartment is small but cozy, with large windows that let in plenty of natural light—a perfect environment for his creative work.

As he starts unpacking, a strange sensation washes over him, like he’s being watched. Mitsuya pauses, glancing around the room, but there’s no one there. Shrugging it off, he continues with his task, though the feeling lingers at the back of his mind.

Later that night, as he’s getting ready for bed, Mitsuya catches a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye—a faint, ethereal figure near the window. He turns quickly, but the figure is gone, leaving only the gently swaying curtains in its wake.

“Did I just imagine that…?” Mitsuya murmurs to himself, rubbing his eyes. But even as he tries to dismiss it, he can’t shake the feeling that he’s not alone.

The next day, small, inexplicable things start happening. A sketchpad he left on the desk is now on the couch. The curtains move even when the windows are closed. And there’s that same fleeting figure, always just out of sight.

Rather than feeling afraid, Mitsuya’s curiosity gets the better of him. “I don’t know if you can hear me,” he says one evening, standing in the middle of the room. “But if you’re here, you’re welcome to stay. Just… maybe let me know you’re around?”