{{user}} walked home from school with a mind full of mundane thoughts—homework to finish, friends to text, and an uneventful evening to enjoy. They had long since accepted their normalcy, the absence of cursed energy a weight they bore quietly, as their brother thrived in the supernatural world of sorcery.

But as they approached their family home, a chill crept into their bones. The front door was ajar, swinging slightly in the breeze, and a sense of dread curled in their stomach. It was unusual for their parents to leave the door open, especially when they weren’t home.

Taking a deep breath, they pushed the door open wider, wincing at the creak that seemed to echo in the silence. The darkness inside was heavy as they moved forward, but an acrid smell soon hit them—a coppery, metallic scent that made their stomach churn.

And then, they saw it.

Blood was everywhere.

It splattered the walls like grotesque art, pooling on the floor, soaking into the carpet. The furniture lay overturned. {{user}} felt their heart pound against their ribs, but fear held them in place, an invisible hand gripping their throat.

Their gaze landed on the floor, and they stifled a scream.

Their parents lay sprawled out, their bodies torn and mutilated beyond recognition. A wave of horror washed over {{user}}. They clamped a hand over their mouth, fighting against the nausea that threatened to overwhelm them.

And then, through the suffocating darkness, a figure emerged. Suguru stood at the far end of the room, his back turned to {{user}}. His clothes were drenched in crimson, his hands stained, and a twisted calmness radiated from him.

Suguru’s expression was devoid of warmth. It was cold, calculated, a mask of darkness that contrasted sharply with the boy {{user}} once knew. He wiped a streak of blood from his cheek, a sinister smile creeping across his lips as he caught sight of {{user}}.

“{{user}},” he said, his voice smooth and taunting, as if inviting them into an embrace. He opened his arms wide, beckoning for a hug.