"Whoops. Sorry, Kisaragi." The blond held his arms in apology. "You look clueless. Did Kamakiri not tell you?"

My heart rate spiked in my chest. "Tell me. . . ?"

I pivoted on my foot. For a moment, annoyance flashed across Kamakiri's face. Then, he faced me, princely smile in place.

"I invited my friends to join us. I didn't think it was an issue. You don't mind, right?"

I grappled for words, open-mouthed. He did? Well, he didn't exactly say we'd be going alone. I jumped to that conclusion myself.

Still, these were Kamakiri's. . . friends? They looked liked thugs. The types that loitered in dark alleyways or asked kids for their lunch money. Then again, Kamakiri was nice and considerate. He wouldn't befriend those he knew had corrupted hearts.

I exhaled heavily, situating a hand over my chest. "That's a relief. I was convinced we were getting mugged or something."

Ignoring their evident surprise, I bowed.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Shiina Kisaragi."

The blond produced an airy laugh when I resurfaced. "Kumai," he introduced. "The guy in green is Tanaka. Baldy is Goya. Brunet, Handa."

"The pleasure's ours," Handa said.

I nodded, putting their names to their faces. See, I worried for no reason. They were politer than expected.

Appearances truly were deceiving.

"Now that introductions are out of the way," Kumai said. "You said something about choosing a ride, right? Why don't we go in there?"

He dipped his thumb behind me, in direction of the haunted house.

My jaw fell slack. I stepped forward. "That's not—"

"We saw you eyeballing it when we were making our way over." Tanaka patted my shoulder. "Truth is, we're huge fans of haunted houses. The scarier the better, right?"

I bet the colour of my complexion had paled beyond compare. The chills I'd received was reflexive. "Well, that—"

"Oh, she wanted to go in the haunted house?" Goya said, then grinned. "Let's hurry up and go, then! The line's practically empty."

Handa took off first, sharing Goya's enthusiasm. Tanaka and Kumai followed closely behind.

I couldn't move my legs.

Kamakiri who'd advanced a couple of steps, stopped in place. He twisted around. "Kisaragi? Aren't you coming?"

I moved my mouth but couldn't formulate the words. The sight of the grotesque zombies and skeletons protruding from the sign above the entrance had lodged them in my throat.

This couldn't get worse.

I missed my chance to speak up. I couldn't stop them now. Why did Kamakiri's friends have to show up? If it was only the two of us, I could've played off my fear of ghosts with a laugh and suggested any other attraction. But I couldn't do that now. Not with his friends already wedged deep into the line.

Here I thought my biggest hurdle was going to be Kamakiri ridiculing my tomboyish outfit when in truth it was trying to avoid being ridiculed over my childish fear of haunted houses. One, for that matter, that even children were entering.

I couldn't bear to look at Kamakiri, my heart lead in my chest. I opened my mouth, prepared to scramble for an excuse.

Before I could, however, my hand was scooped up. My lungs collapsed and my jaw plummeted. Kamakiri smiled as gently as always, compressing my fingers within his.

"K-K-Kama—" I stammered. Beet red, at that. "What's— Y-your hand—"

"Yes, I have hands."

"N-no!" I shouted, vision swirling. "Your hand! It's. . . holding mine!"

His reaction was slow; composure fixed onto his face like a mask. It was as if he couldn't understand what had caused my outburst.

He tilted his head, strands of his red hair falling over his eyes. His face was closer than before—so near I could admire the rings of his eyes and feeble smile.

"Because yours were trembling," he said, as if it was reason enough. "They're freezing too. Are you scared?"

Ever so slightly, the heat from his fingers bled into mine. My heart slammed against my ribcage.

"I— uh, well," I said. "Sorry."

"No need to apologize. Everyone has their weaknesses. But, this sucks. I was really looking forward to going with you."

My shoulders jumped. "Really?"

He nodded. "I love haunted houses. I'd visit them all day if I could. That's why when Tanaka said you wanted to go there, it made me feel like you understood me. Like it was. . . fate."

Fate?

I nearly screamed at the word. Transfixed, I stared at his sheepish grin with definite heart-eyes. My free hand clutched the hem of my shirt.

"I guess I was getting ahead of myself." He ruffled his hair. "It's okay. As much as it pains me, we can visit the other rides. How about—"

"Wait!"

He blinked, stunned by my interjection.

Was it because he'd mentioned the word "fate"—I didn't know. All I knew, however, was that I'd shouted something I never thought I would.

"I'll go."

Kamakiri's lips parted in evident shock. "But. . . aren't you scared?"

I formed a fist. "I-I'll be fine. If I could survive it when I was little, there's no reason I can't do it now. Besides. . ."

I feigned my best smile.

"I came here with the intent to make it up to you. If I can't even let you visit the one attraction you're looking forward to, it will all be pointless."

Despite my brave words, Kamakiri could see right through me.

"Your legs are shaking."

"I'm revving with excitement."

My lie was silenced by another squeeze to my hand.

"You can hold onto me as tight as you want," he offered. "Squeeze me until I'm black and blue. I owe you that at least."

I peered up with doe-eyes.

"You. . . You promise?"

"Of course. I won't leave you in there alone. You have my word."

His picture-perfect smile was back—a complement to his charming face. No matter how many times I looked at it, it successfully flustered me and left me breathless. Although, possibly due to the proximity of our faces, I could spot its forced nature.

Kamakiri turned before I could dare question it. I eyed his broad shoulders as he led the way to his friends.

I should be grateful that Kamakiri was constantly smiling. It was dazzling enough to give me butterflies. So then, why? Why did it occasionally give me goosebumps? Why did it make me second-guess its integrity?

"You took forever!" Handa complained once we arrived. He dragged me by the arm up to the tall, jet black curtains. The others followed suit. "Let's go in already."

Kamakiri didn't mourn our separation that resulted because of it. In fact, flashing his wristband to the employee standing right nearby, he entered without giving Handa and I the chance to catch up.

That should've been the first sign.

The darkness was overbearing, as if I'd closed my eyelids. As we ambled along, our footsteps pattering, a draft tickled the back of my neck, causing me to stiffen like a board. Eerie laughter and groans carried in the distance. It didn't stop my stomach from knotting like a pretzel.

We walked for around a minute, but it felt like centuries of silence and darkness, waiting for creatures of the night to jump out and drag us to the afterlife.

Though, instead of a painfully frightening pop-up, I tripped.

Rather, I was tripped.

My chin scuffed the floor first. I expelled a grunt.

A forceful smack to my back, enough to make me shriek.

"Oops," Kumai snickered. "My bad, beanstalk."

I hauled myself onto my knees. Breathing heavily, I twisted, searching for his face.

But I couldn't see him.

I couldn't see anything.

A flash of red struck. A man doused in blood and gore raised his arms in a scare.

Goya screamed. His footsteps scurried off ahead.

"Wait, idiot!" Tanaka yelled.

Hasty footsteps followed.

They were all running ahead.

"W-wait," I begged. "Hold on! Don—don't leave me!"

My knees wobbled forward out of pure instinct. I darted out my arms but nothing reached my touch.

I touched skin. Familiar big, warm hands.

Relief enveloped me.

"Kamakiri?"

No response.

But it was him. I knew in a heartbeat. I remembered the sensation of his palm.

"Thank goodness," I said. "I—"

His hand slipped from mine.

"You really are an idiot."

"I won't leave you in there alone. You have my word."

"Wait!"

My fingers skimmed the air.

Another flash of red. The same monster, only centimetres from my face.

I screamed louder than I thought possible. I scrambled onto my feet, dashing through the darkness.

Another pop-up greeted me at the next turn. And the next.

I felt lightheaded. My lungs no longer worked. Despite that, I screeched, zigzagging and zigzagging.

I didn't know where I was. I didn't know where they'd gone. I didn't know. . .

"K-Kama—" I screamed, desperately. Tears streamed down my cheeks. "Kamakiri!"

"Because you're interesting."

Blood.

Goblins.

Empty eyeball sockets.

"I invited my friends to join us. I didn't think it was an issue. You don't mind, right?"

Corpses.

Ghosts.

Monsters.

"K-Kamakiri!" I pleaded. "Wh-where did you go? You said—you said—"

"You really are an idiot."

Rocking back and forth against one of the walls, I covered my ears as tightly as I could, blocking out the world around me.

"Brains. Braaains."

A zombie drew closer. Until, they were in front of me. Ready to kill me—eat me.

I sobbed, hard enough my chest heaved and shoulders shook.

I no longer knew if I was crying out of fear, or because of my stupidity.

"Stay away from Kamakiri."

The signs were there. Right in front of me. Yet, I ignored them like an idiot.

"What's wrong?" The voice snapped me from my barraging thoughts. It was a boy. The zombie. He'd broke character. "Are you—are you all right?"

I shook my head, whimpering like an idiot. "S-sorry. I'm s-sorry—"

Crackle.

I ducked, hugging my knees to my chest.

I was so pathetic. What sixteen-year-old cowered like a helpless child in the face of a fraud haunted house? What sixteen-year-old let a bunch of random boys walk all over her and be oblivious to that very fact?

There was no way Kamakiri would be interested in someone like me. There was no way he could be that nice. He and his friends must have heard the rumours about me. They wanted to get a good laugh. That was why they approached me.

"You don't have to pretend to be strong," the boy in the zombie costume whispered, extending his palm for mine. "Here, I'll walk you to the exit. Can you stand?"

What a joke.

Instead of my beloved prince. . . instead of getting the happy ending I always dreamed of. . . here I was being comforted by a stranger dressed in a zombie costume while the guy that had promised to be there for me bailed without another thought.

"How's the view from up there? Are the birds bothering you too much?"

"Do everyone in Japan a favour and shrink back to normal height. It's terrifying how complacent you are growing like a frickin' giant."

My classmates tease and unified laughter rang in my brain like nails being drawn against a chalkboard.

"The Shiina Mao admires is herself no matter what. The Shiina Mom adored is the same. Mom loved Shiina for who she is. So Shiina should love herself too."

Sorry, Mao, Mom.

I don't think I can after all.