SHINTA:

"We need to get inside," I whispered, scanning the rooftop until I spotted a small steel door in the corner.

The old man's face haunted me as I kicked at the steel door, channeling my horror and helplessness into each desperate blow. The sound echoed across the rooftop, accompanying Aya's Heavy breathing.

"Maybe we can get inside through here." I struck again, putting all my strength behind it, but the door wouldn't budge. "Damn it."

I examined the hinges, looking for any weakness. Nothing. The door was industrial-grade steel, designed to withstand far worse than my desperate kicks. After a final futile attempt, I leaned against it, breathing hard.

I scanned the rooftop again, more carefully this time. There, in the far corner—a small overhang extended from a ventilation structure. Not much, but it would keep the rain off.

"Come on," I said softly, taking her arm. "Let's get you somewhere dry." I guided Aya toward it, my hand never leaving her shoulder as we sought refuge from the violent rain.

We huddled together beneath the small overhang, quite for several moments. As Aya's shivered against me, guilt washed through me at how much time we'd lost.

"Hey, Aya... I'm sorry. If I hadn't frozen up earlier, we would've found shelt..."

Her warm finger pressed gently against my lips, cutting me off; a jolt ran through me at her touch, guilt washing through me for failing when we needed to act most.

"Shhh, don't say anything. Nobody could've done anything about this," she whispered, her voice tender and reassuring, that big sunshine smile lighting up her face despite everything. "We're okay now, that's all that matters."

Her cheeks glowed crimson, and her finger against my lips felt... unnaturally hot. Realization struck me like lightning. I quickly pressed my palm to her forehead, my stomach dropping as I felt the alarming heat radiating from her skin.

"Aya, you're burning up," I said, my voice tight with worry. "I have to do something. What do I do? I need to find a doctor. Aya, just wait for me here." My hands shook as I spoke.

How long had she been sick? My mind raced with horrifying possibilities while guilt pierced through me. Had she been suffering silently all this time while I remained lost in my own fears?

As I moved to stand, Aya caught my hand, her grip surprisingly strong despite her condition.

"You big dummy," she chuckled weakly, a ghost of her usual teasing tone, "where would you even find a doctor with all this crazy stuff happening?" Her eyes, though fevered, held nothing but affection. "Shinta, I just need you here with me. I always feel safe when you're with me. You'll keep me safe, right, Shinta?" she murmured, her lips curved upward with, the fever dulling the usual sparkle in her eyes.

I couldn't speak for a moment. I just held Aya close, a lump forming in my throat. I tried to swallow it back, but tears escaped before I could stop them, falling silently onto her arm. The roof above us meant I couldn't pretend they were just raindrops. I felt so damn helpless. What good was any of it now? My promises to protect her felt hollow as she suffered from whatever was happening to her. And just like when we first met, she reached up with a quivering hand to wipe my tears away, her expression radiating warmth despite her pain.

"Shinta," she whispered, her voice weak, "don't blame yourself. You've always been here for me."

I wanted to tell her I'd die for her if I had to, but the words got stuck somewhere between my heart and my throat. What was the point of promises I couldn't keep?

We sat in silence for a long time, just listening to the rain hammering the roof. I tore my shirt into strips, soaked them in the rainwater pooling near the edge, and pressed them against her burning forehead. Every time our eyes met, she offered reassurance despite her suffering—always thinking about me when she should be worried about herself.

I found myself constantly checking the rising water below us. If it kept coming up at this rate, how long before it reached the roof? I needed to figure something out, something better than just temporary shelter.

Then the hairs on my arms stood up. My brain hadn't caught up yet. Rain. Where was the rain? Gone, just—gone. No tapering, no gradual lessening. Silenced mid-downpour as if someone had flipped a switch off. The absence roared in my ears louder than the storm had. Aya breathed beside me, each shallow inhale scraping the silence, the only sound in a world suddenly holding its breath.

"Something's wrong," I muttered, instinctively pulling Aya closer against me.

That weird tingling sensation I'd felt earlier when holding her hand returned, stronger now—like electricity crawling beneath my skin. This isn't just coincidence. There's a pattern here, a meaning I should be able to see.

The air felt charged with something ancient and powerful as the clouds swirled in patterns that defied physics. A strange pressure built against my eardrums, like when you're on a plane that's descending too quickly. The atmosphere itself seemed to be making way for something—or someone—to break through.

Then I saw it. A figure on the roof. Not appearing gradually but simply existing where nothing had been a heartbeat before. My lungs seized as if all oxygen had been sucked from the air as terror flooded my veins—my only thought was to shield Aya from whatever nightmare had found us.

Warping. The air around the figure seemed wrong somehow—bending and warping like a bad photo filter. Distorting reality itself.

Then came the laugh—God, that laugh. Just hearing it sent shivers cascading through my body. My skin broke out in goosebumps, and I couldn't stop shaking. It was the kind of sound that bypasses your rational brain and goes straight to that primal part of you that knows when to be afraid.

My muscles seized involuntarily, my body recognizing something my mind couldn't fully comprehend. Behind me, I felt Aya's feverish body go stiff. Her fingers dug painfully into my arm as she whispered, "Shinta... he's looking right at us..."

"So, it's coming from you. A child with such a strong presence; oh my, this will be fun, really fun," the figure said, laughing again—that same maniacal laugh, this time much, much more bloodcurdling.