The air in Reiji’s study was sharp and biting, colder than the chill that usually lingered in the Sakamaki mansion. Books lay scattered across his desk — some open, others tossed aside in frustration. His fingers trembled as he turned another brittle page, eyes scanning the text for something — anything — that could bring her back.

Beatrix’s death had not given him the satisfaction he craved. Her peaceful expression in her final moments haunted him. He couldn’t stand it — not when she had praised him in death, as if killing her had been some twisted rite of passage. He needed her back, if only to see her suffer by his hand.

Tonight, he had tried a ritual described in one of his books — an obscure passage detailing a method to summon the lingering soul of the deceased. It seemed ridiculous at first, but desperation outweighed reason.

As the final incantation left his lips, the air turned ice cold. The flames in his lamps flickered and dimmed until the room seemed swallowed by shadow.

Then he saw her.

A figure stepped from the darkness — familiar yet distorted. Beatrix’s cold, unreadable face emerged, her form flickering like a candle’s flame. Her lips curled into a smile that never reached her eyes.

"Oh, Reiji..." she cooed mockingly. "If only there was someone out there that loved you."

The words twisted like a knife in his chest. He froze, paralyzed by the sight of her. Fear gripped him — not just fear of what she was, but of what she represented. His pride refused to admit it, but ghosts terrified him.

The figure’s laughter echoed through the room, a cruel melody that sent chills racing down his spine. Just as suddenly as she appeared, she vanished, leaving nothing but silence in her wake.