Requiem System: DEATH IS MY GUIDE

Knock. Knock.

The sound broke the quiet. It was sharp and strange, like someone knocking on a coffin lid.

‎Orenji froze, his finger hovering just above his mouse. The light from a laptop screen flickered across his face, making the dark circles under his eyes stand out. He looked toward the hallway.

Knock. Knock.

There it was again. Quiet, but clear. Someone was knocking.

He listened carefully.

It wasn't coming from the front door. Not a creak sounded of the porch boards. No jingle of the windchimes. Just that dull, distant sound... from above.

It was coming from upstairs. 

His stomach dropped a little.

He tugged off his headphones and sat still, holding his breath. The silence felt heavy, pressing against him. Then came a soft creak. It was faint, but definitely there, as though someone or something walked across the old wooden floor boards overhead.

His voice, small and uncertain, cut through the tension.

"…Mom?" he called out.

No answer came.

Of course there wasn't any. The house had been too still for hours, it almost seemed eerie. There was no sound of keys dangling by the door, no hum of the kettle boiling, no voice on the phone talking about curfews or work-related stuff.

He sighed.

"Right. Working again," he muttered under his breath. "As always."

The silence returned, only now it felt...wrong. Like the air itself was holding still.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

This time, the knocks were louder. Faster.

He stood quickly, his chair scraping against the wooden floor with a screech. Reaching for the wooden bat he kept propped beside his bookshelf, Orenji moved with deliberate, cautious steps.

His room, normally a cluttered mess of wires, old puzzles, and empty ramen cups, now felt like a cold, empty graveyard.

‎Every step he took made the floor creak.

Maybe it's just a thief, he thought, trying to convince himself.

Or something worse.

‎He gripped the bat tighter.

When he reached the top of the stairs, he stopped.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound came again. This time, unmistakably from his bedroom window.

He swallowed hard, that strange, crawling feeling creeping up his spine.

Step by step, he crept toward the door and leaned in close, peering through the small peephole he had drilled into it months ago during one of his late-night paranoia fits.

He looked through.

But found nothing.

Just darkness. There was no person like he expected. There was no movement like he thought he'd seen.

Maybe it was just a shadow.

Or a reflection of his own fear.

‎He let out a shaky breath, the tension in his shoulders beginning to unwind.

Until—Knock. Knock-knock. Knock.

‎It came as a rhythm. A pattern.

As though someone were playing a game. Or sending a... message?!

"...Did they just Morse code me?" he muttered, his voice falling flat with disbelief.

He didn't wait. He threw open the door, raising the bat high above his head as though it were a sword.

‎"Alright, I'm not in the mood for this! Whoever you are—!"

But the room was empty.

‎Totally still.

‎Until—

‎A single clap broke the silence.

‎The wind stirred the curtains. Then came movement, a figure crouched in the moonlight, perched on the second-story ledge like a gargoyle. Orenji's grip on the bat tightened— Until she grinned.

‎"Wow. Chill out, Samurai Jack." A familiar voice spoke, calm and teasing.

‎There, perched on the windowsill with a smug smile, was Yukira. Her red hair was a mess from the wind, and her eyes sparkled with amusement.

She gave a slow, theatrical clap, each slap of her hands dripping with mockery. "Look at you all geared up in your flannel, ready to fight ghosts."

‎Orenji stared in disbelief. "Yukira?! What are you doing here?!"

‎She swung one leg inside, dusting herself off with the grace of someone completely unbothered by the chaos she just caused.

‎"What, no 'thanks for dropping by'? I almost slipped off your dumb roof getting in," she said, glancing around. "And here I thought we were past the whole 'sneaking into your room' thing."

‎"Just—get inside before you fall," he snapped, still gripping the bat like it was the only thing keeping him sane. "You could've just texted me!"

‎"What, and miss all this?" Yukira smirked. "Please. Where's the fun in that?"

‎Orenji let out a long, dramatic sigh as he threw the window open wider. "You do realize doors exist, right? People invented them for a reason."

‎"Aww," she said, starting to climb through with the elegance of a burglar. "But then I'd miss that look on your face. You flinch like a cartoon."

‎"I do not," he muttered.

‎As she pulled herself through, her boot knocked over a half-finished tower of energy drink cans. They crashed to the floor like bowling pins.

Yukira took a slow glance around, her lips curling. "Nice place. Still smells like teenage despair."

Then her gaze drifted upward, and she blinked. "Is that… a sock on your ceiling?"

Orenji didn't miss a beat. "Still judging everything like a divorced aunt, huh?"

Yukira grinned, unfazed. "Touché."

Silence lingered between them before Orenji sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish. "I've been… researching, alright?" he muttered. He crouched down, hurriedly scooping up a few of the empty cans, half-crumpled papers, and an unfortunate bag of stale chips, trying and failing to make the room look like something other than a war zone of procrastination.

‎"Oh, don't worry. You don't need to explain anything to me," Yukira said, stepping over a lone sock on the floor. Her gaze flicked upward again to its twin, somehow stuck to the ceiling like a polyester warning sign. She paused, her brow furrowed, clearly wondering how the hell it even got up there… but shook her head and dismissed the thought.

Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "Still, next time you plan on giving someone a heart attack, maybe let them know first."

‎"You're fine," he said, rolling his eyes.

‎"Barely," she replied, still scanning his room like she half expected something else to jump out. "Anyway… I came here because I needed to talk."

‎Orenji paused. His expression shifted. "About the case?"

‎"That… and a few other things," she said quietly. "Also… your mom?"

‎He paused, taking a breath before replying.

‎"…She's not here."

‎"Working again?"

‎"Yeah. Probably. As always." He tried to sound casual, but there was a bitter edge in his voice.

‎Yukira caught it. Her tone softened. "So… you're alone?"

‎"Yes," he said quickly, maybe a little too fast. "Obviously."

‎"Okay, okay, chill," she raised her hands in mock surrender. "Didn't mean anything by it. I was just asking."

‎He sighed, letting his shoulders relax and the tension slip by him. "I know. Sorry."

‎The air between them grew quiet for a moment—until—

‎"Meow!"

‎Yukira nearly jumped out of her skin. "What the—" She spun toward the sound, her hand flying halfway to the hilt of her hidden blade, her eyes wide. "What the hell was that?!"

‎From behind a shelf, a flash of black fur darted into the room. A massive cat with glowing green eyes padded forward, its tail flicking like it owned the place.

‎"Oh, hell no!" Yukira yelped, scrambling behind the nearest chair. "What is that thing?!"

‎Orenji watched, trying not to laugh. "That's Dante. He lives here. Sort of."

‎"Lives here? That's a cat?! A friggin' cat?!! That thing looks like it eats souls! Why is it staring at me like that?!"

‎"Because he smells fear," Orenji said casually.

‎"Oh, great, then he must be having a feast right now," Yukira muttered, ducking as Dante launched himself onto the bed. The cat settled above her, glaring down like a disappointed emperor judging his latest court jester.

‎"He's harmless," Orenji said, amused.

‎"Harmless? He just growled at me!"

‎"He hisses at everyone," he replied with a shrug. "He hates people. Honestly, you two would probably get along."

Yukira slowly turned to him, her eyes half-lidded with deadpan disbelief. The kind of look that said I'm this close to setting you on fire.

"Ha! Hilarious," she muttered, her voice flat with sarcasm.

But before she could get another word out, Dante leapt down with effortless grace and sauntered over like a feline monarch returning to his throne.

"No, Dante—come here!" Orenji called, snapping his fingers.

The big black cat paused, turned his head slowly to glance at him then promptly tossed it forward with exaggerated dismissal, as if saying "Nope." Without another thought, he continued his slow, deliberate stride... toward Yukira.

Yukira had pressed herself so tightly against the wall it was a wonder she hadn't phased through it. Her eyes widened in disbelief as Dante approached, then closed shut at the implication of what that meant. Whatever was coming next, she wasn't ready… but she was already bracing for it.

To Orenji's disbelief, the cat brushed against her leg with the entitlement of royalty greeting a peasant, purring deeply like a content little engine.

Yukira opened one eye. "Uhhh…"

"…Traitor," Orenji muttered under his breath. "He's never done that before."

She looked down at the cat, then shot him a smug look. "Maybe he just hates you."

"Honestly? I wouldn't blame him."

That earned a laugh from both of them. It was soft, surprised, and unexpectedly real. The moment didn't last very long. But it was something.

‎Downstairs, the front door creaked open… and then shut.

‎Both Orenji and Yukira froze.

‎Footsteps echoed up the stairs.

‎Then—knock knock—right at Orenji's door.

‎A voice called out:

‎"Margherita? Orenji?"

‎Yukira's face went pale.

‎"Oh crap," she whispered. "Your mom?! You said she wasn't home!"

‎"I thought she wasn't!" Orenji hissed back. "She usually isn't!"

‎The doorknob turned, and the door creaked open.

‎Chief Aomorii stepped in, wearing her usual buttoned-up trench coat. Her expression was as sharp and unreadable as ever. In one sweeping glance, she registered everything. She saw the mess, the flickering light of his still-active computer screen, Dante by Yukira's feet... and Orenji, frozen in place, still awkwardly gripping a baseball bat like he'd forgotten it was in his hands.

‎She raised an eyebrow.

‎"…Do I even want to know what's going on here?"

Orenji cleared his throat, quickly lowering the bat like it had betrayed him.

"Just… introducing Yukira to Dante," he said, his voice a bit too fast.

Chief Aomorii's eyes narrowed, locking onto the black-furred menace curled at Yukira's feet.

"Why is Dante near Margherita?"

Yukira flinched at the sudden chill in her voice. "Uh… is that a problem?"

The Chief crossed her arms. The room felt noticeably colder as she turned her gaze on Orenji.

"You do remember what happened to the neighbor next door, right?"

Yukira hesitated, her hand already halfway toward Dante before slowly retreating. "…Wait. What happened to this mystery neighbor next door?"

‎"He thought Dante was a lost pet. Tried to pick him up." Aomorii's voice was flat. "Five stitches later, Pa Jankins still walks with a limp."

‎Yukira glanced down at the big black cat who was now purring and took two careful steps back. "Good to know." The words escaped her.

Then, turning to Orenji with a raised brow, she added,

"And you still feed this thing? Why?"

‎"Hey, don't insult Dante," he said with a small smirk. "He's got feelings." Orenji crouched and reached out to pet the cat, only for Dante to respond with a low hiss and swipe at his hand, making him recoil with a yelp.

‎Chief Aomorii sighed, long and tired. "I'm heading back out. No incidents tonight, alright? There's money in the drawer downstairs if you need anything." Her voice dropped just slightly. "And please… don't burn the house down."

"Got it," Orenji muttered, rubbing the back of his hand.

‎She turned sharply on her heel but paused at the doorframe. "And if that thing bites you again," she added, nodding at Dante, "don't come crying to me. He was your choice."

"Mhmm," he hummed distractedly, already back at his desk, his fingers dancing over the keyboard.

But just before she stepped out, she paused again.

Her eyes lingered on her son just a second longer than they should've, long enough for something softer, sadder to flicker through. A hint of sadness, maybe regret. But it was gone before it could settle.

Then she turned and disappeared down the hall. The door clicked shut behind her.

Yukira watched the door for a moment, then turned to Orenji. "Your mom's kind of intense," she said, half-joking.

"Yeah," he murmured. "But she's all I've got."

Something in his voice made her pause. When she spoke again, it was gentler.

"Hey… she's trying. Give her some credit."

"I do," he said quietly, still rubbing the spot on his hand where Dante had swiped him. "I just… wish she didn't have to carry everything alone."

Yukira didn't answer right away. But her gaze lingered on him, softer now, less guarded. Understanding passed between them like a quiet bridge, the silence having said more than words ever could.

‎****

A few minutes later, Orenji motioned toward the computer screen.

"Anyway. This is why I called you."

‎Yukira folded her arms. "You didn't call me."

"I yelled into the void, and you answered," he said with a crooked smirk. "Close enough."

She rolled her eyes but didn't argue, stepping beside him with a reluctant sigh. The glow from the screen lit her face in stark blues and steely grays, throwing the room into shadows.

Behind her Dante let out a low grumbling meow that sounded like a mix of warning and disapproval. But Yukira stayed still. Her eyes were fixed on the monitor now, drawn in. Whatever irritation she felt before had vanished.

"…What is this?" she asked, her voice lower.

Orenji didn't answer right away. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, the faint hum of the computer filling the silence.

"It's not supposed to exist," he said finally. "But it's real. And I think it's connected to everything."

Yukira's breath caught. Her eyes narrowed, the tension returning to her frame.

"Connected to what, exactly?" Yukira asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

< Chapter 16 > Fin.