Man of Styx

Chapter FOURTEEN: The Guise of Death

Ryoichiro's world tilted on its axis the moment he realized who — or rather, what — Yuko truly was. His breath shortened as his gaze locked onto Yuko. The room felt suddenly colder, his vision narrowing as he tried to reconcile the cheerful figure before him with the shadowy entity that had haunted him and Risa just nights before. Every instinct screamed at him to run, to confront, to do anything but sit there in this twisted mockery of normalcy. He wanted to protect Kirishima from whatever malevolent force was lurking beneath that pretty exterior. Yet, he knew that causing a scene would only drag his friend into the nightmare that had already ensnared him. Ryoichiro was paralyzed, caught between the need to act and the fear of making a mistake that could shatter their fragile reality.

He felt sick, a nauseating churn in his gut that made it harder to breathe. His thoughts were a chaotic mess, crashing into one another with no clear path forward. He could feel his pulse quicken, a cold sweat beading on his forehead. He forced himself to take slow, measured breaths, trying to steady the storm within.

"How can this be happening? Why is she here, with Kirishima-san of all people? And what does she want?"

The questions spiraled, each one more terrifying than the last, until he was barely aware of his surroundings, lost in a fog of dread.

Saejima's voice broke through the haze, sharp with concern. "Ryoichiro-san, is everything alright?"

Ryoichiro adjusted his posture, forcing a strained smile as Saejima's voice broke through his daze. The concern in his voice seemed distant, as if he were hearing it through a thick morning mist. Ryoichiro nodded, though his attempt at a casual tone wavered. "Yeah, just... a bit overwhelmed." His voice was too high, his hands trembling slightly despite his efforts to keep them still.

Ryoichiro blinked, forcing himself to focus, but the effort felt monumental. He glanced at Saejima, then back at Yuko, who was watching him with an expression of innocent worry that made his skin crawl.

Ryoichiro's mind raced as he tried to take in Yuko's perfectly human demeanor in contrast with the shadowy figure from his nightmares. "How can she be so convincing? How can she look so... human?" His disbelief grew, making it harder to focus on the conversation at hand.

Kirishima, ever the joker, laughed, oblivious to the storm raging inside his friend. "What, are you jealous, Ryo-kun? Come on, man, there's no need for that."

His words were light, teasing, but Ryoichiro could barely register them. He felt like he was drowning, struggling to keep his head above water in a sea of confusion and fear. Kirishima's joke about jealousy only twisted the knife deeper, but it was Yuko's feigned concern that almost broke him. "Nah, dude. Of course not," he said, trying to mask his anxiety. His gaze flickered back to Yuko, torn between the disarming warmth of her smile and the cold dread gnawing at him.

Yuko tilted her head slightly, her eyes wide with what appeared to be genuine concern. "Ryoichiro-san, is something wrong? You look pale." Her eyes, so innocent and caring, were a cruel mockery of the truth he knew.

"I — I'm fine," Ryoichiro managed to choke out, though his voice sounded hollow to his own ears. He had to get out of there, had to put some distance between himself and that... thing. "I just need some air," he muttered, pushing back his chair and making a beeline for the door.