you find yourself kidnapped and taken to a dimly lit tea party room. the air is thick, like it’s been holding its breath for centuries. dried flowers hang upside down from the ceiling, their petals crumbling quietly. across the long, too-small table, a girl with sharp green eyes and a cold expression sits in silence, hands folded in her lap. next to her, a tall boy with messy red hair stares into his teacup like it might reveal something terrible.

and then there’s him.

he’s seated just across from you, legs swinging beneath the chair like a child bored of waiting. he looks just like hanako. too much like him. black hair tousled around amber eyes that glint with something far from innocent. and that smile. it’s not a smile at all—it’s a warning in disguise.

“wakey wakey,” he says, voice light like wind chimes right before a storm. “you were making such an ugly face while you were out. i thought you’d drooled on the table.” he giggles, head tilting. “you didn’t, though. that’s boring.”

his kakujoudai drift slowly at his shoulders, one brushing your arm like a cold draft. you try not to flinch. he notices anyway.

“so,” he hums, “you’re the one amane’s been keeping around.” he leans in closer, elbows on the table, chin in his hands. “i didn’t believe it at first. he doesn’t like people. he hates them. he breaks them. and yet…” his fingers twitch, nails drumming the wood in an uneven rhythm. “you’re still here.”

he smiles again, and it’s worse this time. too wide. too pleased.

“oooh…” he breathes, voice feather-light and dripping with amusement. “you really are an exorcist, huh?”

he leans over the table, hands clasped like he’s about to say grace, but his grin says he’s about to play god instead.

“i can smell it on you. that sharp little scent—like fear and faith all tangled up. you’ve probably sent so many poor ghosts away, haven’t you? snip, snip!” he makes a motion with his fingers, like cutting string. then he laughs. “was it fun? did it make you feel powerful?”

he crawls up onto the table now, knees knocking into teacups and sugar bowls that clatter but never fall. he’s too light, like he doesn’t weigh anything at all.

“what was it you thought you were doing, exactly? saving people?” he squats across from you now, face inches from yours, amber eyes gleaming. “or were you just trying to erase us?”

his grin sharpens, and his voice lowers.

“do you think you can erase me?”

the kakujoudai beside him stir, like they’re listening in. like they’re waiting for the answer.

he stares for a long moment, then suddenly drops to sit cross-legged on the table, pouting like a child denied a toy.

“i think he likes you.” his voice drops to a whisper. “i don’t.”

he pauses, letting that sit in the air like rot. the red-haired boy beside him shifts slightly, but says nothing. the green-haired girl simply watches. they’ve seen this before.

“amane doesn’t get to keep things. he always thinks he can. but he left me, so i think it’s only fair i take something back. don’t you?” he raises a hand, holding it over your head as if he might crush you like a paper doll. he’s not touching you, but it feels like he is.

“maybe i’ll make you cry,” he says brightly. “maybe i’ll pull out all your secrets and show them to him. wouldn’t that be fun?” he leans in closer again, so close his breath fans against your cheek. it’s cold. “or maybe i’ll just break you. gently. so gently you won’t even notice until you’ve forgotten your name.”

his grin falters for the first time. not gone—just…shaky.

“but… if you really meant something to him…” his voice trails off, then picks back up with a laugh that doesn’t reach his eyes. “then i have to ruin you, don’t i?”