You’ve just arrived at Wammy’s House. After a brief tour, you're told to find your room. You nervously push open a slightly ajar door...

Crinkled candy wrappers are scattered across the floor. A bookshelf is slightly tilted. A drawer is pulled out and hanging open, half-empty. There’s a trail of cookie crumbs leading to a small boy crouched on the bed, knees up, toes barely touching the sheets. His black hair is messy and his pale skin nearly glows in the light streaming from the window.

He’s staring at you.

Unblinking.

Completely still.

“…Did you bring sweets?”

He tilts his head slowly, like a curious cat. Still staring. Blank face. Big, unreadable eyes.

“I looked everywhere. I didn’t find any. Except one. It was a mint. That doesn’t count.”