After thirty minutes, Uncle Shouhei shuffled toward them, wiping his hands dramatically on a kitchen towel like some wholesome sitcom dad.

“It’s good to go,” he announced with a grin. “Now back to work. We don’t miss deadlines in this household.”

He said it with fake authority, and the three of them broke into giggles. They helped clean up, thanked him for the food, and walked to the gate together.

“Drive safe, Kenji. And remember to use protection,” Uncle Shouhei said with the most fatherly smirk in the history of fatherly smirks.

“Dad!!” Risa practically combusted on the spot.

“I will, Uncle. Goodnight,” Kenji replied, laughing like he wasn’t about to get punched. Risa smacked his shoulder so hard the ancestors felt it.

Uncle Shouhei waved as they walked off.

“Kids these days,” he muttered with a soft smile, then closed the door behind him.

》》》》》》》》》》

“What exactly do you need this radio for?” Kenji asked as they drove back to his place, streetlights flickering across the windshield.

“I need it to find Riku without physically going back to where he was,” Risa said.

“So… astral projection? But instead of drifting through this world, you’ll slip into wherever he is?”

“Pretty much. And also…” She hesitated. “I want to see who sent the SOS signal from Haruto’s basement.”

Kenji sighed. “Promise me you’ll focus on finding Riku first. If your power starts to overload—if anything feels wrong—you stop.”

“I promise,” Risa nodded. “What about you? Have you gotten yours back?”

“Unfortunately, no. But…” Kenji chuckled softly. “When we came back from that alternate world, I felt something. Like my whole insides were overheating. I still feel it sometimes—especially when I’m near anything hot.”

“I hope it comes back,” Risa said. Her voice was small, thoughtful. Silence filled the car again, the kind that felt like gravity settling.

Then Risa broke it.

“You still haven’t told me how you remembered what happened when we were kids.”

“Do I owe you that story?” Kenji teased, but she looked at him—dead serious. He swallowed. “Okay. I do owe you.”

He took a breath. “I got into the car accident, remember? When I woke up, there was a man standing outside the window. I couldn’t see his face—it was too dark. But he was like you. He rolled the window down without touching anything. Then he put his hand on my forehead, and suddenly… I was inside a memory I didn’t even know I had. When I came to, days had passed. The ambulance and cops were already there.”

“So you remember your life before the lab?” Risa asked.

Kenji shook his head. “No. Just that one moment. Like he only wanted me to see that piece. What about you?”

“I don’t remember anything before the wipes either. Only the moments when I learned to block the light,” Risa murmured. She turned slightly toward him. “But isn’t it strange? He made you remember one fragment… but not the rest?”

“Maybe he worked for the lab,” Kenji said quietly. “Or maybe he was another subject like us. Before he pulled me into the memory, I asked who he was. He said, ‘You don’t know me… but I’ll make you remember.’ And then he disappeared.”

Risa frowned. “You never saw him in the memory?”

“No. But I saw you.” Kenji glanced at her, the weight of it settling between them. “What if it wasn’t him? What if the person who helped me remember… was actually you?”

“From the future?” Risa laughed, shaking her head. “Did I develop a new power and turn… lesbian?”

“I’m just saying,” Kenji chuckled. “But whoever he was… he helped us. You would’ve done this alone. I might’ve stayed mad or skeptical, knowing you were somehow involved in the fire… and chose to keep it secret.”

Kenji smiled at her and continued driving. He let out a burp, and the faint scent of ramen from Risa’s house lingered in the car.

By the time they got back to his place, everyone was asleep. The faint music from Kenji’s room was still playing. They carefully set the radio down on the bed.

“Oh no,” Risa gasped.

“Why?” Kenji asked, but he didn’t need an answer. Riku lay asleep on the bed, his skin almost translucent. Veins stretched like black rivers across his arms and chest. His lips were dark and cold.

“Hell no. He’s freezing,” Kenji muttered.

“Is he dead?” Risa asked, her voice tight.

“I’ll get a pulse reader. Stay with him,” Kenji said, dashing downstairs.

Risa wasted no time. She plugged in the radio and sat beside Riku, taking his hands in hers.

“Please… stay with us,” she whispered.

She closed her eyes, focusing on the static humming from the radio. Darkness swallowed her as she felt herself pulled into an endless, void-like room. She called for Riku, her voice echoing through the infinite black.

The darkness seemed to tighten around her, constricting, suffocating. Panic clawed at her chest. If she lingered too long, she might not return. Just as her vision blurred to nothing, she heard it—a familiar voice. Kenji. She shut her eyes, centering herself on his sound, and when she opened them again, she was back in Kenji’s room.

“You scared me,” Kenji said, grabbing her into a hug.

Risa muttered a quiet apology. She wiped the blood from her nose and glanced at Riku. The pulse reader was clipped to his finger.

“How is he?” she asked.

“Heart rate is normal. He’s alive. Did you find him?”

Risa shook her head and excused herself to wash the dried blood from her nose. But before she could reach the bathroom, Riku convulsed violently. Blood spurted from his nose. His eyes snapped open, but the pupils were gone—only the whites stared back.

The radio erupted in static, a man’s screams faintly piercing the room. Kenji lunged to unplug it, but the noise didn’t stop.

“Somebody! Help!”

“It’s Riku!” Risa gasped. She and Kenji exchanged panicked glances.

Riku’s seizure ended as abruptly as it had begun. He collapsed back onto the bed, eyes closed, appearing to sleep—but the room still hummed with tension.

“What was that?” Kenji whispered, his face pale.

“I need to find him,” Risa said, determination lacing her voice.

“Now? You almost lost yourself back there,” Kenji said, fear creeping into his tone.

“Almost,” Risa corrected, voice steady. “But something’s happening to Riku, and we can’t waste time.”

Kenji nodded, his hands gripping the radio. He watched her carefully as she positioned herself, sitting on the bed.

“Count from one to sixty. If I’m not back, call my name,” Risa instructed, holding Kenji’s hands. “Wish me luck.”

He nodded, starting the count. The lights flickered. A cold breeze swept the room. Risa’s body stiffened. Riku’s eyelids twitched.

Ten.

The radio static pressed against Kenji’s skull. It felt like it was trying to crush his very thoughts.

Twenty.

The lights in his room flickered. He swore the air had grown colder, sharper, almost… alive.

Thirty.

Blood streamed down Risa’s nose. Riku groaned louder than before, like the world itself was protesting.

Forty.

Kenji thought he saw Risa levitate a few inches above the floor, where she’d been sitting moments ago.

Fifty.

Everything shook. Frames on the walls rattled violently. The tremors woke his mother, and he could hear her footsteps approaching the hallway.

Fifty-five.

“Kenji? What’s going on in there?” she asked.

“Nothing, Mom. We’ll wrap up in a few minutes,” he answered, trying to sound normal.

Fifty-six.

“Okay, can you turn it down a little? Airi might wake up. You know your sister is teething, and she finds it hard to sleep,” his mother said.

“Okay, Mom. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Kenji.”

Fifty-seven.

Risa, Riku… please come back, Kenji thought, biting his nails.

Fifty-eight.

Fifty-nine.

Sixty.

And then—silence. The static from Haruto’s radio vanished. The lights steadied. His room returned to peace.

He almost reached for Risa, almost called her name—when she and Riku woke. Gasping for air, like they’d just surfaced from drowning.

Riku, trembling and still wheezing, looked at Risa and Kenji, curled on the floor. He ran to them, embracing them both.

They cried together. All three. Even Kenji.