The surroundings had completely transformed.
A clean, well-lit hallway stretched before Takakai, filled with students hurrying to their classrooms.
Hachiya Chiyo hummed softly as she walked, her black hair bouncing slightly with each step.
The twisted graffiti was gone.
The oppressive chill had vanished.
Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over everything.
Through the open classroom doors, Takakai could see students sitting upright at their desks, teachers standing at podiums.
The sound of children reciting lessons and teachers lecturing made him feel, for a fleeting moment, as if he had left the anomaly—as if he had returned to the real world.
As if none of the horrors had ever happened.
As if everything was as pure and innocent as it appeared.
But Takakai knew better.
Because when he looked back, the far end of the hallway had already reverted to its original state—dark, decaying, with shadowy figures of mononoke slowly creeping toward him.
The horrors were still there. They were just hidden, temporarily suppressed by the core obsession's power in this triggered scenario.
Up ahead, Chiyo reached a half-open classroom door.
She pushed it open.
Inside, sunlight bathed the room. Students turned to look at her curiously. The teacher smiled.
[Come in, take your seat. Class is about to start.]
The teacher's voice was gentle.
[Hello, everyone! My name is Hachiya Chiyo! I hope we can all be friends and learn together!]
Chiyo bowed slightly, her voice earnest, before sitting down.
The children's voices reached Takakai's ears.
[Wow, Hachiya-chan, your hair is so shiny! What do you use?]
[Hachiya-chan, let's talk at lunch!]
[Want to play together after school, Hachiya-chan?]
They crowded around her, laughing, taking her hands, their expressions warm and welcoming.
[Be a good student, Hachiya-chan.]
[The teachers will help you learn and grow.]
[If you study hard and listen well, you'll become someone amazing.]
The teacher approached, smiling as well.
Was this a memory? Something Chiyo had actually experienced?
No.
Takakai stepped inside, moving behind the smiling children and teacher.
The sunlight dimmed. A stench of rot seeped into the air.
[Hachiya Chiyo? An orphanage kid? The admissions office must've made a mistake.]
[The "Supreme Dominion" project requires familial cognitive feedback. This one lacks that. Will it affect the results?]
[Well, if it's Superintendent Satou's decision… We can use her as the test core. There are some untested directions we can explore. Might yield unexpected results.]
The teacher's back had another face—identical to the smiling one in front, but with cold, cruel eyes.
The light darkened further.
The stench grew stronger, suffocating.
Takakai saw more.
He began to understand Chiyo's past.
After expressing his desire to know her, after chasing her into this scene, the bright, sunny façade peeled away, revealing the darkness beneath.
[That Hachiya Chiyo… She doesn't look like a good kid. Just seeing her annoys me.]
The teacher purposely said this within earshot of students visiting the staff room.
[Did you hear? She's an abandoned orphan. Her parents didn't want her. A "bad child."]
Laughter. Deliberate. Loud.
[If you play with someone like her, your parents might abandon you too.]
A pat on the head for a student who had been friendly with Chiyo. A joking tone.
Children were simple.
They didn't understand morality, law, or the line between good and evil. They only knew liking and disliking. And they were excellent mimics.
So when the teacher spoke like this, when they hinted, or outright stated, their disdain for Chiyo…
The children who played with her dwindled.
They began calling her [parentless stray], [bastard], [trash].
They isolated her. Mocked her.
Chiyo's hair, brittle and streaked with yellow from malnutrition, became the butt of jokes—[Your foreign whore mother didn't want you either, huh?]
Her thin, sallow face earned her the nickname [floating corpse], with kids sucking in their cheeks to mimic her.
Chiyo didn't understand why they turned on her.
And the children didn't either.
At first, it was just a few copying the teacher.
Then it spread.
And when most were doing it, the few holdouts began avoiding her too.
It became habit.
No reason. No purpose.
Just something they did, like eating or sleeping.
In the darkening classroom, Chiyo no longer smiled.
She sat silently.
Takakai's gaze swept over the expressionless students, the grinning teacher with the monstrous second face.
He knew this was only the beginning.
The bullying she endured—while cruel by normal standards—was nowhere near enough to forge a core obsession.
Something worse had happened.
Something unimaginable.
And he was about to see it.
Because as the school bell rang, signaling the end of class…
The teacher left.
The children left.
And Chiyo, trying to leave, was blocked by a group of laughing kids.
[Hey, stray. Where do you think you're going?]
A boy sneered.
[I… I'm going home…]
Chiyo's voice was small.
[You don't have parents. You don't have a home. Orphanage doesn't count.]
Laughter.
[Let me through…]
She tried to push past.
They shoved her down.
[Look at her, scrambling like a rat! No mom, no dad, no one wants you!]
[Teacher said it—people like you are just wasting food. Why don't you die already?]
[Yeah! And with food shortages, why even have orphanages? I heard yours only takes girls. Probably for something disgusting.]
They kicked her.
[Teacher said you only got in because someone paid for it. Your orphanage adults must be filthy!]
They didn't think about their words.
They didn't care if they hurt her.
Because the ones who should've taught them kindness were the ones who taught them this.
But then—
Chiyo stood up.
Takakai understood.
Being ignored, excluded, insulted—she could endure it.
But not this.
Not when they insulted the people who raised her.
Not when they mocked the other orphans—kids like her.
[DON'T TALK ABOUT UNCLE AND AUNTIE LIKE THAT! DON'T TALK ABOUT THE OTHERS!]
She fought back.
Throwing chairs. Swinging fists. Biting.
And then—
She was beaten down.
[OW! SHE BIT ME!]
[YOU LITTLE—GET HER!]
[DIE, YOU WORTHLESS TRASH!]
Chiyo lay broken, bleeding.
But they kept going.
Their insults were learned from the teacher.
Their violence was learned from the nearby military base—where they'd seen officers "disciplining" soldiers.
They broke a chair leg over her.
They laughed.
Some lit cheap cigarettes, passing them around.
One pressed a burning tip into Chiyo's neck, grinning as she twitched.
Girls took scissors to her hair, hacking it unevenly, cruelly.
All of it normal.
All of it right to them.
And Takakai watched.
Not because he wanted to see this.
But because he knew—
This wasn't enough.
Not for a core obsession.
Then—
Chiyo turned her head.
Her bloodied face looked directly at him.
Her voice was cold.
[Teacher… school's over. Why are you still here?]
Color drained from the world.
The students' smiles froze.
A force yanked Takakai backward—
SLAM!
The door shut behind him.
The hallway was dark, ruined again.
The mononoke were gone.
Chiyo's presence had vanished.
But Takakai could still feel it—
The core obsession's mark on him.
Yet instead of pursuing him, it now rejected him.
Did I do something wrong?
Then he saw it.
A mottled, stiff-furred dog standing in the hallway.
One of the Butcher's hounds—fully converted, yet sealed, unable to move.
Its presence could only mean one thing—
The one who saved Chiyo that day… was the Butcher.
The spoon, the apron—gifts from her.
Another piece of the past clicked into place.
But now, his "teacher" identity combined with sealing the Butcher had painted him in a negative light.
The core obsession wouldn't let him near her again.
Not ideal. But not hopeless.
Then—
A sound.
Takakai turned.
Headless Kaguya was running toward him.
*…Right. Time to go.