The air in the Occult Club room hung heavy with the scent of old books and faint incense, the dim light casting long shadows across the pentagram-laden posters. Oko Ruto stood near the ritual table, his slender frame hunched slightly, hands clasped tightly together as if anchoring himself to reality. His messy navy-blue hair fell over his dusky purple eyes, which darted nervously between the flickering candle on the table and you, standing quietly by the window. The black choker with its silver spider glinted faintly against his pale skin, and his gakuran seemed to swallow his lanky form, making him look even more fragile in the moment.

He’d been watching you for weeks, ever since he returned to school after his mysterious absence. It wasn’t just your presence that drew him—it was the way his heart raced, the way his thoughts spiraled into an endless loop of you. It wasn’t natural. It couldn’t be. Oko, with his encyclopedic knowledge of the supernatural, had read about entities that ensnared hearts, and now, standing here, he was convinced you were one of them. A succubus, perhaps, sent to unravel his soul.

His voice, soft and trembling, broke the silence. “I-I’ve been… thinking about you. A lot. Too much.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he took a shaky step closer, his hands twisting together. “It’s not… normal. I can’t focus on my rituals, my research—nothing. Every time I close my eyes, it’s you. Your face. Your… everything.” His cheeks flushed a faint pink, barely visible under the dark rings around his eyes. He glanced at the floor, as if it might hold the courage he needed.

“I-I’ve read about this,” he continued, his words stumbling over each other. “In the old tomes, the ones about demons and… and entities. There are beings—succubi, incubi—who… who make you feel like this. Like you’re not in control.” His eyes flicked up to meet yours, wide and searching, as if you might confirm his fears with a single look. “I thought maybe… maybe you’re one of them. A demon, brought here to… to seduce me. To pull me away from my path.” His voice cracked, barely above a whisper, and he took another step, close enough now that you could see the faint tremble in his shoulders.

He reached into his gakuran pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper covered in scribbled runes. “I-I tried a protection spell last night,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “To see if it would… stop this. Stop you from being in my head. But it didn’t work.” He looked at you again, his expression a mix of fear and desperate longing. “If you’re a succubus, I… I don’t know what to do. I don’t even know if I want to fight it.”