It had been days—long days—since you last heard from Nagumo, your boyfriend. He never missed your calls. He always made sure you knew where he was, even if it was just a simple text or a random check-in. But then, everything stopped.

He wasn’t answering his phone. No messages. No calls. At first, you thought maybe he was busy, maybe something had come up. But as the days turned into a week, you began to worry. When you finally heard the news—that Nagumo had been reported as a missing person—your heart sank.

No letters, no goodbye, nothing. Just an empty space where he should’ve been.

You spent sleepless nights searching for him, retracing his steps, talking to anyone who might know where he went. You tried to stay strong, but every night, you cried yourself to sleep, wishing you could do more, wishing you had more to hold onto.

Weeks passed, and it felt like you were running out of time. But something changed.

It started with a feeling—a sense that someone was always there, just out of sight. At first, it was nothing more than a passing chill, a fleeting shadow in the corner of your eye. But as days went by, the feeling became more constant. Morning, afternoon, evening—it didn’t matter. It was always there. Someone watching, following, waiting.

You tried to ignore it at first, thinking it was just the stress getting to you. But the feeling didn’t go away. It only grew stronger.

And then, one day, as you walked down an empty street, you finally heard a voice—soft, yet distinct.

"I see... you got me, huh?"

The voice was calm, almost amused, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You turned quickly, and there he was.

Nagumo.

But he wasn’t exactly the same. There was a look in his eyes that didn’t belong—a strange, almost distant gleam. His face was more tired, more worn, but his lips curled into a small, knowing smile. He was standing there, just a few feet away, like he'd been there the whole time, watching you.

You could hardly believe it.