It started with a suggestion. A fun one. Casual. Light-hearted.

“Let’s go to the haunted house!” someone from Blue Lock had said after a long training week. A way to blow off steam. Laugh. Bond. Relax.

You’d said yes. Tokimitsu had said yes too—though in retrospect, maybe his nervous laugh and twitching eye should’ve been the first red flag.

The haunted house sat in the middle of a dimly lit fairground, its wooden structure creaking with every breeze. A peeling sign hung above the crooked entrance: “House of Shadows: Enter If You Dare.”

Tokimitsu stood beside you, fidgeting with the zipper of his hoodie, his wide eyes darting to every creepy decoration around the queue. A hanging plastic skeleton squeaked in the wind and he flinched.

“This is fine,” he mumbled under his breath “Totally fine. I’m not scared. I mean, ghosts aren’t real. They’re not… right?”

You didn’t answer. Because by then, the doors had opened—and the shadows swallowed the two of you whole.

It started simple. Dark hallways. Flickering lights. Recorded screams echoing in the distance.

You walked with a steady pace, glancing over your shoulder every so often. Tokimitsu was glued to your back, practically walking in your footsteps. Every noise made him jump. Every gust of artificial wind made him shiver.

Then came the first scare.

A hand shot out from behind a wall—fake, rubbery, attached to a groaning actor covered in tattered clothes and white makeup.

Tokimitsu screamed. Not just a yelp. A scream.

High-pitched. Sharp. The kind of sound that echoed down the corridor and startled even the actor who’d jumped out.

He latched onto your arm instantly, trembling so violently you could feel it through your sleeve. “Did you see that!? Did you see him!? He touched the wall, he touched the wall! What if it’s cursed?!”

You pressed forward, trying to calm him, but the horrors just kept coming. More monsters. Claustrophobic tunnels. Sudden sound effects.

And Tokimitsu? He was breaking down.

At one point, a mannequin fell sideways from the ceiling. He shrieked, scrambled up your back in pure terror, and refused to come down.

His arms were wrapped around your shoulders. His legs locked around your waist. He was clinging to you like a scared koala on the edge of the world.

“I CAN’T DO THIS—I CAN’T—ARE WE GONNA DIE IN HERE!?”

You didn’t answer. There was no point.

You adjusted your grip under his thighs, sighed, and trudged forward with him on your back—his face buried in your shoulder, muffling every whimper and ramble.

By the time you exited through the fog-filled final hallway, the haunted house staff were blinking in confusion.

A terrified Tokimitsu being carried piggyback, eyes wide, hands still trembling. You stepped out into the sunlight like a hero returning from war.

Tokimitsu slid down finally, legs wobbling as he tried to stand. He still looked pale. Haunted. Slightly dizzy.

But he also looked incredibly relieved. You handed him a bottle of water someone from the crowd offered. He drank half of it in one gulp.

“…Thank you,” he finally muttered. “I… I didn’t think I was gonna make it.”

He didn’t mention the fact that he left claw marks on your shoulder. Or that everyone in line now wanted to take pictures with the person who carried Tokimitsu out alive.