"Your apartment's kind of depressing," Kei remarked, stretching lazily. 

 "We should get some plants or something. Maybe a cactus. Low maintenance, like you."

 "We’re here to keep him alive, not redecorate," Rin said flatly, not even turning from the window. 

 "Tadashi, your usual route to school has three blind corners and two narrow alleys. Too risky. Take the side street instead." 

Tadashi sat up, still processing the fact that he now had two—what? Guardian angels? Partners? Babysitters?

 "You've been watching my previous attempts?" 

 "Every single one," Rin confirmed. 

 "Your mask strategy isn’t bad, but it’s incomplete. You’re so focused on being forgettable that you miss opportunities for actual survival." 

Kei grinned. 

 "Translation: You’re bad at making friends, and it's getting you killed."

 "I wasn’t trying to make friends," Tadashi muttered, rubbing his temples. 

 "Last time I trusted someone, I got stabbed." 

 "Yeah, yeah, you got betrayed, bled out dramatically, the cherry blossoms were very aesthetic," Kei waved dismissively. 

 "That doesn’t mean trust is useless. It just means you’re trusting the wrong way." 

Rin turned to face him; her stare sharp as a knife. 

 "Trust isn’t all-or-nothing. You don’t need people you trust completely. You need people you trust for specific things." 

Tadashi frowned. 

 "Like what?" 

 "Like Yuki, the class rep. She’s reliable for information about school events. That’s a form of trust," Rin explained.

 "She won’t save your life, but she can tell you which parts of the school to avoid. Use that." Kei tapped his chin, nodding. 

 "Yep! Different people, different uses. Think of it like a survival toolkit. And right now, your toolkit is just a rock and some bad luck." Tadashi sighed.

 "Fine. But how do you two fit into this? How do you appear to others? Can they see you?" Kei grinned, his form shimmering slightly. 

 "We can choose who sees us. To everyone else, we’re just normal students. I’m the ridiculously charming transfer student who sits two rows behind you." 

 "And I’m the student council secretary," Rin added. 

 "A position that gives me access to schedules, staff intel, and security protocols." 

Tadashi raised an eyebrow. 

 "So you just hacked the system?" Kei chuckled. 

 "'Hacked' is such a strong word. I prefer ‘creatively inserted ourselves into the narrative.’" Rin shot him a side glance. 

 "You cheated." 

 "Details," Kei said, waving her off. 

 "Anyway, the point is, you don’t have to do this alone anymore. We’re here to make sure you don’t die before day seven. Again." 

As they walked to school, Rin led the way, making slight adjustments to their route to avoid potential dangers. Tadashi watched how differently Kei and Rin moved through the world. Kei was effortlessly social, cracking jokes, chatting with random students. He wasn’t invisible like Tadashi tried to be—he was just so natural that people didn’t question his presence. Rin, on the other hand, moved with precise efficiency. She didn’t avoid attention, she controlled it. Her role in the student council meant people respected her, followed her lead without question. At the school gates, the guards barely looked at their IDs. Kei had somehow gotten them talking about last night’s baseball game, while Rin efficiently handed in a stack of event permits she had "forgotten" to submit earlier.

 "See?" 

Kei whispered to Tadashi as they walked past. 

 "Sometimes the best mask isn’t hiding—it’s making sure no one looks too hard in the first place." 

 "You’re not blending in," Rin corrected. "You’re directing attention where you want it." 

In class, Tadashi found himself seated between his two new allies. For the first time, he didn’t feel completely alone. Not that he trusted them completely, but at least now he understood how to rely on them. As the teacher began the lesson, Tadashi opened his notebook to a fresh page: 

 -Day 1 (Attempt 4): New route to school (Rin-approved) 

 -Different approach to masks needed 

 -Trust = specific and limited 

-Control attention rather than avoid it 

-Allies have their own masks 

 He glanced at Kei, who was somehow managing to look both attentive and asleep at the same time, then at Rin, who was taking notes with military precision while simultaneously monitoring everyone in the room. Maybe surviving wasn’t just about wearing the right mask. Maybe it was about knowing when—and how—to change them. He smirked slightly—just a little. Not a mask this time. A real smile. For once, he had a fighting chance.