The haunted house was meant to be fun—cheap scares, fake cobwebs, and a shining knight with flaming armor played by Kyojuro Rengoku. You were the costume designer, stitching every detail of his golden-red cloak, never imagining how real it would start to feel.

On opening night, laughter filled the halls until the lights flickered. The air turned cold, too cold, and the torches along the walls burned blue instead of orange. Guests screamed, thinking it was part of the act. But you felt it—a presence watching, whispering, drawn to him.

Rengoku stood tall, the flickering light painting his armor in eerie hues. You caught a glimpse of something behind him—a shadow reaching out, pulled toward the warmth of his soul. The haunted house wasn’t pretending anymore.

You rushed to him, your voice trembling, but he only turned, firelight gleaming in his eyes. The air crackled. Then, with a calm smile that could chase away the darkness, Kyojuro Rengoku spoke.