Meanwhile in Kuraigana Island…
A thick, foggy veil wrapped around the world, the kind that seems to swallow everything whole, leaving only shadows in its wake. The darkness presses in, heavy and suffocating, while the wind outside howls against the windows, pounding at the glass like a restless beast.
Inside the room, the contrast couldn’t be starker. A piping hot cup of tea sits on the table, steam rising in delicate spirals, promising warmth and comfort against the chill of the night. Next to it lies a crumpled newspaper, its headline detailing the latest chaos from the New World, though I barely take in the words as they blur together in my peripheral vision.
The room feels suspended in time, peaceful on the surface, but the tension is palpable. Every gust of wind outside seems to whisper of something more dangerous just beyond the fog, a reminder that the world is anything but calm.
Yet, in the midst of it all, I hadn’t noticed you enter. The creak of the door barely registered as you stepped inside, your silhouette briefly illuminated by the dim light. I’m still lost in the quiet hum of the room, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows on the walls.
Perona, as always, is a constant in my peripheral vision. She’s working furiously on her latest batch of what she calls “Ghostly Cookies,” her hands moving with a mix of enthusiasm and exasperation. The sweet, yet strange scent of her concoctions fills the room, and I can’t help but wonder what kind of madness she’s cooked up this time.
Still, despite the bizarre and unsettling atmosphere, it’s your presence that I finally register—quiet, almost unnoticed, but not unnoticed enough. My gaze flickers towards you, a quiet realization dawning.