The house was quiet, the TV muted to a dull hum. You tugged your hoodie higher, sliding your sneakers on as quickly as possible. If you could just get out the door without either of them noticing—

“Dad, I’m just gonna run to the store real quick,” you said, hand brushing the doorknob.

“Stop.”

Both of them froze. Suguru leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees, eyes locked downward, deadly calm. Satoru perched on the edge of the couch, hands clutched to his knees, staring at nothing like some tragic hero in slow motion.

“…Do me a favor,” Suguru said, his tone calm but sharp enough to make your blood run cold. “Backtrack to the stairs. Walk back down. Right side facing me.”

Satoru’s voice cracked dramatically, almost like a stage performance. “Oh no… something’s happening. Something’s… wrong. Something’s… very wrong.”

You froze mid-step, heart hammering, sensing the weight of their focus. Both of them leaned slightly forward, heads tilted, almost like they could feel the change in the air.

And then—just as your hoodie shifted and the small hoop glinted under the light—both their heads snapped up.

Suguru’s eyes darkened instantly, cold and dangerous. His voice dropped low, deliberate: “...Do you remember Monkeyman?”

Your stomach twisted. That ghost from childhood—Suguru’s own invention to terrify you and your sisters—hung in the air like a predator.

Meanwhile, Satoru threw his arms wide, dramatic as ever. “MY BABY’S GROWN UPPPP!” he shouted, voice cracking, eyes wide with theatrical horror and pride. “MY BABY! AND… AND… A NOSE RING?!”

Suguru didn’t so much as blink at Satoru. His gaze was locked on you, sharp and unforgiving. “Explain. Now. Before Monkeyman has to pay a visit.”