The sound of music was still echoing from the fairground when I finally caught sight of him —
Haoran.
He stood near the game stall, his hair catching the flickering yellow light from the hanging bulbs. His face was calm yet unreadable — until his eyes met mine. Then something in that calmness shattered. A moment's silence stretched between us, heavy enough to drown out every sound around.
I walked toward him slowly, each step pulling at a thousand unanswered questions inside me.
"Haoran," I said, my voice barely steady.
He looked startled, like he had been waiting for me but didn't expect I'd actually come. The girl beside him was still there — tall, sharp eyes, a strange smirk on her lips as if she already knew something I didn't.
"Aria, wait — listen to me first," Haoran started, taking a small step forward.
But before he could finish, the girl tilted her head slightly and said in a tone too casual for the tension filling the air,
"Haoran, are you really going to talk to her in front of me?"
Her words sliced through the murmuring crowd. I blinked, unsure if I heard her right. The people around us paused; even the music seemed to fade mid-beat.
Haoran turned sharply toward her. "What are you talking about? Don't say things like—"
She interrupted, smiling sweetly.
"Don't pretend, Haoran. I'm your girlfriend, remember?"
The world stopped moving.
For a few seconds, I could only hear the carousel spinning somewhere behind me — faint laughter of strangers who had no idea they were standing in someone else's heartbreak.
My heart didn't beat; it thudded. My mind screamed that it wasn't true — but my eyes saw her standing too close, too comfortable, too confident.
Haoran's voice cracked. "That's not true. Aria, she's lying, I don't even—"
"Don't even what?" the girl laughed softly, reaching into her pocket. She took out a small pendant — a silver chain with an emblem carved into it.
When the fair lights flickered again, the pendant shimmered faintly — a pale bluish glow that felt almost alive.
My breath caught.
I'd seen that symbol before.
Once, in Haoran's locker, hidden under his math book — the same circular mark, half-broken, like something ancient.
"Where did you get that?" I whispered.
The girl turned her gaze toward me, her eyes dark but glowing faintly, like a reflection of the pendant itself.
"You should ask him," she said, pointing at Haoran. "After all, it's his secret, not mine."
Haoran's fists tightened. "Enough. Aria, don't listen to her, please. I don't know who she is, or why she's—"
The girl laughed again, but this time her voice didn't sound human. It echoed slightly, layered — like two tones overlapping in the same throat.
"You don't know me?" she said softly. "Then who helped you hide the Mafias that night?"
I asked in confusion, "Mafias? Which mafias, Haoran?"
Haoran didn't answer. His eyes shifted downward, face pale, breath unsteady.
"He won't tell you, Aria," the girl said calmly. "Because some truths aren't meant for everyone."
I turned to Haoran again, my voice trembling. "What is she saying? Haoran, please, tell me!"
"Believe me, Aria," he muttered weakly, his voice cracking. "I don't know anything…"
"Then who is she? What mafias is she talking about?" I demanded.
But Haoran looked restless, his body trembling. Before he could utter another word, his knees gave way.
"Haoran!" I screamed, rushing forward as he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
Yana knelt beside me, shaking his shoulders. "Haoran! Wake up!" she cried, panic filling her voice.
Then, suddenly, Yana froze. Her eyes widened in horror.
"Aria… Aria!" she shouted, pointing ahead.
I turned, confused. "What is it, Yana?"
"She—she's not here anymore!"
"What nonsense are you—" I stopped mid-sentence. My voice caught in my throat.
The girl was gone. Vanished.
No footsteps. No shadow. No trace at all — like she'd never existed in the first place.
Without wasting a second, I called a cab to take Haoran home. The ride felt endless — the city lights passing by like fading memories.
After dropping him off, Mr. Sheng rushed out of the gate.
"What happened to Master Lee?" he asked, his voice tight with concern.
I hesitated, struggling to find words. "I… I don't know," I said softly.
Before I could explain further, a raspy voice suddenly echoed from behind us.
"Don't do this! Don't do this!"
Startled, I turned around. An old man stood under the flickering streetlight, his clothes worn, eyes wild and frightened.
"What shouldn't we do? What are you talking about?" I asked, frowning in confusion.
But the man didn't answer — he just kept repeating in a trembling voice,
"Don't do this… don't do this…"
And before we could stop him, he turned away and vanished into the darkness.
I glanced at Mr. Sheng. "Do you know that man?"
Mr. Sheng shook his head slowly, still staring at the spot where the man had stood.
"No… I've never seen him before."
At home, my mind couldn't rest. Everything that had happened replayed again and again like a broken film reel.
Who was that old man? Was he mad… or was he trying to warn us?
And that girl — who was she really?
What did she mean by mafias?
Why did she call herself Haoran's girlfriend?
And most of all… why did Haoran suddenly lose consciousness like that?
Each question echoed louder than the last, and I had no answers — only a growing sense that something far darker was beginning.
The clock ticked softly on my bedside table, each sound sharper than the one before. Sleep refused to come. The night felt stretched, hollow — as if time itself had slowed down to listen to my thoughts.
It was sometime after midnight when I woke suddenly — my heart racing, skin cold.
I didn't know why.
The house was silent.
Too silent.
I pushed the blanket away and got up, my feet brushing against the cold floor tiles. For a moment, I thought I heard a faint sound outside — not quite a whisper, not quite a call — just something that didn't belong to the night.
I opened my door and walked down the hallway.
The shadows seemed longer than before, stretching like thin threads that followed me wherever I went.
When I reached my parents' door, I whispered, "Mom? Dad? Is it you?"
No reply.
Only stillness.
I took a hesitant step toward the main door. The night outside was calm — the kind of calm that feels like a warning. The full moon hung low, silver light spilling across the empty street. The air was cool but heavy, carrying a faint scent of burnt wood.
Then I heard it.
A voice. Soft. Familiar.
"Aria…"
My heart froze. The voice was behind me. I turned slowly — every muscle in my body tense.
And then —
It was the squirrel.
It stood on the porch railing, tiny body trembling under the moonlight.
"Don't go," it said suddenly.
I froze. My breath caught in my throat. "But… why?" I asked, barely whispering.
The squirrel's small eyes shimmered like drops of silver.
"I don't know. But you shouldn't go there," it said quietly, almost pleading.
A shiver ran down my spine, but I shook my head.
"No. I have to go. It's enough — I need to find out the truth."
I turned away and continued walking, my footsteps echoing faintly on the empty road. The air felt colder now, pressing against my skin.
That's when I saw him —
a little boy sitting by the roadside, crying all alone.
His sobs echoed faintly, breaking the silence of the night. Suddenly, a group of men appeared from the shadows, their laughter slicing through the silence of the night.
Their laughter sliced through the quiet, cruel and chilling.
"Now you'll be finished," one of them sneered, his voice rough and low.
The little boy whimpered, curling into himself. I wanted to rush forward, to help him — but something inside me froze.My legs felt heavy, as if an invisible force was holding me back.
The echo I had been following twisted into something darker — a whisper of warning brushing past my ear.
Then everything changed.
The men began to fade. The boy's cries grew distant. The road blurred like a smudged painting — the lights dimming, the figures dissolving into smoke until there was nothing left but darkness.
I blinked — once, twice — and suddenly I was standing outside my house again. My lungs burned like I'd been running. My shoes were wet. Dirt clung to my fingertips.
"Was that… a dream?" I whispered.
But it wasn't. I could feel it. The heaviness still pressed on my chest. The smell of damp earth was real.
I stepped back inside. The silence felt unnatural now — too thick, too alive. Even the clock on the wall had stopped ticking.
3:03 AM.
I went to my room and closed the door behind me. The curtains fluttered slightly though the windows were tightly shut. My throat felt dry. I switched on the lamp —
And froze.
There, on the glass of my window, was a faint handprint. Small. Feminine.
And just below it, written in thin mist, were the words:
"Do you still believe him now?"
The letters vanished the moment I blinked.
My pulse roared in my ears. I backed away slowly, every instinct screaming to run, but my body refused to move.
The air thickened — heavy, electric, wrong.
Then, from behind the curtain, something shifted.
A shadow.
It moved deliberately — not like wind. Smooth, slow… human.
My breath hitched. The shadow tilted its head slightly, the same way she had at the fair.
I swallowed hard, whispering, "Who are you?"
Nothing. Then, a voice — soft, like silk tearing through glass.
"You shouldn't have followed him, Aria."
My chest tightened. "What do you want from me?"
"The truth," she said, her voice almost gentle.
"But the truth comes with a price."
The curtains rippled. A faint light glimmered — bluish, cold, just like the pendant's glow.
I could see her now. The same face, the same smirk — but her eyes weren't human anymore. They swirled with faint silver mist, empty and endless.
"He doesn't remember what he did," she whispered.
"But you will."
The light flickered violently — then vanished.
I rushed to the window, but she was gone. The street was empty.
Only one thing remained — a faint, burnt mark on the glass, the same broken circular symbol from Haoran's pendant.
My knees weakened. I sat down, pressing my palms against my temples.
"What is happening?" I whispered. "What are you hiding, Haoran?"
At that moment, my phone buzzed sharply. The sound sliced through the silence.
I grabbed it — a message from an unknown number.
Unknown: Don't tell anyone what you saw.
Unknown: He's not who you think he is.
My fingers trembled as I typed back:
Aria: Who are you? What do you mean?
No response.
The screen glitched — flickered once, twice. Then a picture appeared as my background image.
It was the same girl.
Standing in front of the carousel. Smiling.
And behind her — in the blurry background —
was Haoran.
Looking straight at me.
Suddenly, the world around me felt heavier, as if time itself was holding its breath.
And then—darkness.
My sight blurred, and for a second, I couldn't tell if I was still standing or falling.
The world twisted—and I heard something.
A whisper. Distant, but clear enough to freeze my heartbeat.
"I've done what you asked," a girl's voice said somewhere beyond the darkness.
My breath hitched. That voice—familiar.
Another voice answered, low and cold, like it came from the shadows themselves.
"Good. Now she'll walk exactly where I want her to."
The light above me flickered once—twice—then died completely.
And in that darkness, I realized the whisper wasn't far away.
It was behind me—followed by the faint sound of someone breathing.