The room had no windows—only a single overhead lamp casting pale light across shelves lined with cursed objects, old paper seals, and things better left unopened.

Suguru Geto sat above the silence as if he belonged to it, one arm resting over his knee, the other loosely draped near the strange wooden box at his feet. Painted eyes covered every side of it, pale and unblinking, each one staring outward with unsettling detail.

He noticed the hesitation before the touch happened.

The moment fingertips brushed the lid, the room changed.

One eye blinked.

Then another.

A low pulse moved through the box like breath returning to something long asleep.

Geto did not move immediately. His gaze remained steady, half-hidden behind his hand, studying the reaction more carefully than the object itself.

“Interesting.” He said quietly, almost amused.

The painted eyes widened all at once.

Thin cursed energy leaked from the cracks of the lid, curling upward like smoke, but instead of lashing out, it circled gently—as though recognizing something it had been waiting for.

For the first time that night, the calm in his expression shifted.

He leaned forward, dark eyes narrowing slightly.

“It never reacts this way for anyone.”

The lid trembled once under his hand before he pressed it closed again, sealing the movement inside.

Silence returned, though the eyes remained open now—watching.

And this time, so was he.