Chapter 3: The lady with a Umbrella

The next day, Najma was back in town, doing what she did best—asking questions and chasing down leads. She had spent the morning moving between shops, parks, and street corners, notebook in hand, hoping to get some answers from the locals about the strange sightings and rumors that had been swirling around Ravenswood.

Her first stop was the small grocery store near the center of town. The place was modest but always bustling, making it a good spot to gather information. Najma approached an older man who was browsing the vegetable section, his expression casual but distant.

“So, have you seen or heard anything weird happening around town lately?” Najma asked, her tone polite but direct.

The man didn’t even look up. “Weird? Everything’s weird these days,” he muttered, picking through a pile of potatoes. “But that’s just life, isn’t it? Full of strange things.”

“Right,” Najma responded, already sensing that this wasn’t going to be helpful. “Anything specific about... people disappearing or showing up after being gone for a long time?”

The man shrugged. “People come and go. Always have.”

Najma sighed and thanked him before moving on. The next person she approached was a middle-aged woman sitting on a bench outside the store, knitting something colorful. Najma sat down next to her.

“Excuse me,” she said, leaning forward slightly. “I’m investigating some of the strange things happening around town. Have you noticed anything... unusual lately?”

The woman paused her knitting and glanced at Najma. “Unusual, you say?” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Well, last week, I saw three crows sitting on my fence. That’s a bad omen, you know. Means death is near.”

Najma blinked, forcing a polite smile. “Crows, huh? Interesting.”

The woman nodded sagely. “Mark my words, young lady, death is coming to this town.”

Najma thanked her, trying not to roll her eyes as she jotted down “crows = death” in her notebook.

Her next stop was a group of teenagers hanging out near the park, lounging around a fountain, and chatting. When Najma asked about strange sightings, one of the kids at once jumped in with, “Yeah, I saw a UFO last week. Right above the grocery store. Big one. Beaming people up. They’re here for our cows.”

The others burst into laughter, clearly enjoying messing with her.

Najma sighed, moving on to the next person, a man selling newspapers on the corner. His response was even more out there. “Oh, it’s all the government’s doing,” he whispered, leaning close. “They’re putting stuff in the water. Turning people into lizards. No one believes me, but you’ll see. You’ll all see.”

“Lizards,” Najma repeated, nodding absently as she scribbled down his conspiracy.

She spent the better part of the day going from one person to another, getting everything from vague theories to wild conspiracy, to complete nonsense. Some people were helpful, but most were either too wrapped up in their own delusions or simply enjoying the opportunity to throw her off track. It was starting to feel like she wasn’t getting anywhere.

Her last stop of the day took her down a quiet alley, where a small group of rough-looking guys hung around smoking and chatting loudly. Najma steeled herself and approached them.

“Hey, mind if I ask you guys a few questions?” she said, keeping her tone casual.

The group turned to look at her, and one of the guys—tall, with a leather jacket—grinned, his eyes flicking up and down as he looked her over. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” he said, his tone suggestive.

Najma felt her skin crawl but kept her cool. “I’m just looking for information. Anything weird happening around here lately?”

Another one of the guys snickered. “Depends on what you mean by ‘weird.’ You got any weird plans later?”

Najma’s patience was wearing thin. “I’m not here to joke around. Just looking for some answers.”

The guys, clearly enjoying themselves, started throwing her things around—her pen was swiped, her notebook tossed in the air like a toy.

“C’mon, sweetheart, lighten up,” one of them said, stepping closer. “You wanna ask questions? Why don’t we make a deal first?”

Najma clenched her fists, feeling the familiar tingle of her Miracle stir inside her. But she kept her expression neutral, letting them have their fun for a moment longer.

A few minutes later, Najma appeared from the alley, looking frustrated and disappointed. She sighed, adjusting her jacket as she made her way down the street. A passerby—a woman with shopping bags—gave her a sympathetic look.

Najma caught the woman’s curious glance and quickly straightened her posture, trying not to look too defeated. The woman glanced toward the alley Najma had just walked out of, and her eyes went wide.

Piled up in the corner were the unconscious bodies of the gang members, each of them sprawled out on the ground, sporting a collection of fresh bruises and, strangely, thorn marks all over their skin. It looked like they had been thoroughly beaten up.

Back on the street, Najma sighed and made her way over to a nearby bench, flopping down onto it with a heavy exhale. She rubbed her temples, mentally reviewing the day’s events. Some progress, she mused, but not enough to get a decent answer.

She flipped through her notes, frowning at the lack of concrete information. Everything was either too vague or too absurd to publish. She tapped her pen against her chin, thinking. I should go back to the church. There’s something about that place I still don’t understand.

Determined, Najma stood up, stuffing her notepad into her bag. She turned to head back toward the church, her mind already running through theories. But as she rounded the corner, she bumped right into someone, her momentum nearly knocking them both off balance.

“Oh, sorry!” she said, stepping back, rubbing her forehead where she’d made contact.

The person she bumped into was tall and wore a long coat, their face mostly obscured by a wide-brimmed hat. They looked down at her with an unreadable expression.

“No problem,” the stranger said in a calm, soothing voice. “Rough day?”

Najma gave a tired smile, nodding as she leaned back on the bench. “You could say that.”

The man sat down beside her, his eyes curious but not intrusive. “What’s got you looking so beat?”

Najma hesitated, unsure how much she should share. She wasn’t about to tell a stranger everything, especially not about masked women, or time warps in abandoned churches, but she needed to talk to someone. “I’m a journalist,” she started, “and I’m looking into some strange stuff going on in Ravenswood. But people either don’t take me seriously or they’re just messing with me.”

The man chuckled softly, his gaze thoughtful. “Yeah, I imagine you’d get a lot of noise in a place like this. Plenty of rumors, but not much truth.”

Najma glanced at him; her curiosity piqued. “And what about you? Have you seen anything strange around here?”

He leaned back, his expression shifting to something more reflective. “Strange? Depends on what you consider strange. But... there is something.” His tone grew more serious, drawing Najma’s full attention.

“There’s this woman,” he continued. “I see her sometimes when it rains. She’s always carrying an umbrella, but that’s not the weird part. It’s like... she’s walking on the rain itself, like the drops hold her up.” His eyes flicked toward the sky, as if remembering the sight. “Sometimes, if you listen closely, you can hear her humming—almost like her voice is woven into the rain.”

Najma’s exhaustion evaporated in an instant. She leaned forward, excitement bubbling up inside her. “Wait—walking on the rain? Like, stepping on raindrops?”

The man smiled at her enthusiasm. “That’s how it looks, yeah. And the humming... it’s almost like the rain itself is singing.”

Najma could hardly contain herself. This was the best lead she’d heard all day, all week. “You must take me to where you’ve seen her! Please.”

The man raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by her sudden eagerness. “You really want to chase this down, huh?”

“Absolutely,” Najma said, practically bouncing on the bench. “This could be exactly what I need.”

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “Alright, I’ll show you. It’s not far from here.” He stood up and stretched, giving her a curious look. “But first, I don’t think I got your name.”

Najma smiled, standing up to join him. “Najma Kamaria. And you?”

He extended his hand, meeting her gaze with a small, knowing grin. “Henry. Nice to meet you, Najma.”

They shook hands, and with that, they began walking side by side, Henry leading the way. Najma’s mind raced with possibilities. A woman walking on rain... She couldn’t wait to see where this new lead would take her.

Henry led Najma through the winding streets of Ravenswood, his pace slowing the closer they got to the place he had last seen the mysterious woman. His usual easygoing demeanor was replaced by something more uneasy—his eyes flicking toward the sky as if expecting something.

Najma noticed his change in attitude, raising an eyebrow as they approached a familiar alleyway. “What’s with you? You’re acting like we’re about to step into a haunted house or something.”

Henry rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. “It’s just... every time I hear her humming, it messes me up. It’s hard to explain. My head gets all foggy, and I get these headaches. Like, real bad ones. I don’t know if it’s my mind playing tricks on me or if someone’s just screwing with me, but it happens every time.”

Najma, never one to sugarcoat things, frowned and gave him a blunt look. “Are you just sick or something? Have you even gone to a doctor?”

Henry shot her an incredulous look. “What? No. This isn’t about being sick, Najma. It’s happened too many times for it to be some kind of random illness. It’s not in my head. This woman is real.”

Realizing her words might have been a little harsh, Najma sighed, her tone softening. “Alright, sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It just sounds... odd.”

Henry relaxed slightly but remained serious. “Trust me, if it was something like that, I’d know by now.”

Najma nodded and switched gears. “So, did you get a good look at her? What was she doing the last time you saw her?”

Henry took a deep breath before continuing, his unease still clear but now mixed with curiosity. “Yeah, I got a good look. She wasn’t like anyone I’d seen before. She had long braided hair, with these coins woven into them, like something out of a dream or a royal procession. They glittered, even in the dim light. She was wearing this poncho hoodie that draped over her shoulders, and underneath, I could see chains wrapped around her waist. It wasn’t like some normal outfit. And then there was the umbrella.”

Najma’s brow furrowed, intrigued. “Umbrella?”

“Yeah,” Henry continued, nodding. “Just a plain, ordinary umbrella. But something about the way she held it... it felt off. Like it was more than just for the rain. It added this... I don’t know, ominous feeling. She gave me the creeps.”

Najma couldn’t help but smirk at his discomfort. “The creeps? Seriously? You’re a grown-ass man. At least have some courage.”

Henry shot her a half-hearted glare. “Look, I’m not scared of a lot of things, but this... it’s different. Something’s wrong about her, Najma. Every time I’ve seen her, it’s like the air shifts, like the rain itself bends to her will.”

Najma’s smirk faded slightly as she took in the seriousness of his tone. He’s not exaggerating, she thought. This could be connected to the larger mysteries in Ravenswood—the strange phenomena, the disappearances, and now this woman who defied the laws of nature.

She straightened up, her voice more focused now. “Alright, then. Where did you see her last? Take me there.”

Henry nodded, though the tension remained in his body as they continued walking. “It’s just ahead. But... brace yourself. I’m not sure what we’ll find.”

As Najma and Henry approached the location where Henry claimed to have last seen the mysterious woman, Najma’s excitement bubbled under the surface. Finally, she thought, an actual lead in this town. But as they arrived, her mood shifted.

Henry stopped in front of a run-down, abandoned diner in the middle of the forest. The windows were cracked, vines had overtaken the walls, and a faded sign swung loosely in the breeze.

Najma’s eyes narrowed, and she shot Henry a side-eye glance. “A diner? In the middle of the forest? Really?”

Henry rubbed the back of his neck, visibly uneasy. “Yeah, this is where I last saw her.”

Najma raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You sure about that? Seems like your story’s changing a bit. You didn’t mention anything about a creepy diner in the woods earlier.”

Henry opened his mouth to respond, but Najma cut him off, crossing her arms. “Why the hell were you out here in the first place?”

“I—uh—well, I sometimes come here to clear my head. It’s quiet, no one really knows about this place,” Henry stammered, clearly trying to explain himself.

Najma sighed, shaking her head. “Whatever. I’ll take over from here.” She started to pull out her notepad, jotting down quick notes. “I’ll investigate this on my own.”

Henry blinked in confusion. “Wait, what? You’re a journalist, not a detective. You can’t just—”

Najma shot him a pointed look. “Exactly. No detectives. That’s the point. I don’t need the cops swarming all over this, making things harder for me.” She tore off a piece of the notepad, scribbled down her phone number, and used her Miracle, summoning vines to wrap the note and shove it into Henry’s hands.

“Call me if anything happens,” Najma said flatly. “Otherwise, don’t involve the authorities. Got it?”

Henry stared at the note, baffled by her forwardness. “You seriously think you can just—”

“I said what I said. You’re free to go now,” Najma replied, already turning her attention toward the diner.

Henry muttered something under his breath as he walked off, his frustration clear. Najma caught some of it, but by the time she turned to retaliate, it was too late.

She let out a small huff of frustration and glanced at the diner again. Looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me.

Najma stepped into the abandoned diner, the wooden floor creaking under her weight. The inside was no better than the outside—dusty tables, chairs scattered as if left in a hurry, and a stale smell lingering in the air. She wrinkled her nose as she surveyed the room, her eyes scanning for anything that might be useful.

She spent the next few minutes poking around. The counter had old menus left behind, faded pictures hung crooked on the walls, and cobwebs collected in the corners. But there was nothing out of the ordinary—no sign of the mysterious woman Henry had described, no clues, no leads. Just an old, forgotten diner.

Frustrated, Najma wiped her hands on her jeans, her mind racing through possibilities. Henry was imagining things. She had already spent too much time here, and it was starting to feel like a dead end.

Sighing, she turned toward the door, ready to leave. But just as she reached for the handle, the door suddenly slammed shut with a force that rattled the walls.

“What the hell?” Najma gasped, jumping back.

Before she could react, the windows that had been cracked and broken just moments ago suddenly changed. The outside world, visible through the shattered glass, was replaced by a blinding white light. Najma shielded her eyes, heart pounding. What’s going on?!

Then, as quickly as the light appeared, it vanished—replaced by a complete void of black, as if the entire diner had been swallowed by darkness. The temperature dropped, and Najma’s breath came out in shaky gasps as her mind raced for an explanation.

Her hands trembled as she fumbled with her phone, trying to get a signal or at least turn on the flashlight. “Come on, come on...”

And then, just as abruptly as it had started, everything stopped. The windows cleared, the light and darkness vanished, and the diner returned to normal—dusty, old, and silent. Najma stood frozen for a moment, trying to catch her breath.

“What... just happened?” she whispered to herself, her pulse still racing.

Before she could process it, the sound of a door creaking open echoed behind her. Slowly, Najma turned toward the back of the diner, where the kitchen door had swung open. And standing in the doorway was someone new.

A man stepped out, his appearance at once striking. Out stepped a man whose appearance at once caught her off guard. His black coat, suit, and poncho gave him a mysterious, almost ominous air. His face was concealed by a black mask, with dim red goggles adding a haunting glow. His hair was dreaded, with patterns of black and blondish white that was tied back with a strange looking big red circular spike.

He sighed loudly, as if deeply annoyed, before muttering, "Great. Just when I thought today couldn’t get worse..." His voice carried a tone of frustration, and Najma could swear she heard him mutter something about Corazon and how he wasn’t supposed to be there.

Before she could react or ask who he was, Najma’s instincts kicked in. Without hesitation, she lunged toward him, her Miracle sparking to life. Vines shot out from her arms, aimed directly at him. But the man was faster than she expected. With a quick flick of his wrist, a glowing door appeared between them. He stepped into it, disappearing instantly, causing Najma's vines to miss entirely.

A split second later, another door opened behind her, and the man reemerged, dodging her attack effortlessly. He knocked Najma down with a swift, calculated movement before she could even process what had happened. The impact left her winded, and before she could get back up, he spoke.

“Whoa, easy there," he said, his voice calm now. "I’m not here to fight you.” He stepped back, creating a little distance between them. “Corazon sent me.”

Najma, still catching her breath, glared at him. “Corazon?” she repeated, unsure if she should believe him.

“Yep,” the man confirmed, adjusting his goggles slightly. “I’m here to make sure you don’t get yourself killed.”

Najma struggled to her feet, glaring at the masked man who had knocked her down so effortlessly. He still hadn’t made a move, his red goggles gleaming ominously under the dim light of the diner.

“Told you, I’m not here to fight,” the man said again, his voice flat but laced with irritation. He sighed deeply, like this whole situation was a chore he didn’t want to deal with.

Najma, not letting her guard down, spat back, “Then what the hell are you doing here, huh? And who are you anyway?”

The man gave a slow shake of his head, as if her question was an inconvenience he didn’t want to address. “I’m here because Corazon sent me to babysit you.”

Najma blinked, dumbfounded. “Babysit?”

The man crossed his arms, clearly not enjoying this conversation. “Yeah. You and the other human,” he said, referring to Yoko in a dismissive tone. “You two stumbled into something bigger than you can handle. Corazon figured you’re too important to lose. So, here I am—your new, unwilling bodyguard.”

Najma threw her hands up, exasperated. “Too important? What the hell does that even mean? You’re going way too fast.”

He shrugged, not really caring to explain. “It’s not that deep. You’re wrapped up in something, and you’re a key part of it. Corazon sent me to make sure you don’t get yourself killed. Simple.”

Najma narrowed her eyes. “That’s a half-assed explanation. How about giving me something that makes sense?”

The man’s tone turned dry and sarcastic. “Look, I don’t do long-winded explanations, okay? I’m here because I must be, not because I want to be. Just... don’t die. That’s the gist of it.”

Najma’s frustration boiled over. “Is your serious right now? Do you even want to be here, or are you just as annoyed as I am?”

“Trust me, I’d rather be anywhere else,” he muttered under his breath, shifting his weight to one side. “I don’t even like people. And now I’m stuck with you.”

“Oh, don’t worry, the feeling’s mutual!” Najma shot back, her voice rising. “You’ve been here for five minutes, and I already can’t stand you.”

The masked man, whose irritation had grown steadily, suddenly threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Oh, great! That’s just fantastic. We’re off to a wonderful start.”

Najma’s patience snapped. “You know what? If you’re so miserable being here, why don’t you just leave?”

Touko—though Najma didn’t know his name yet—stepped forward, his posture tense, his voice dropping into a growl. “Trust me, if I could walk out of this whole thing, I would. But Corazon said to protect you, and unfortunately for me, I don’t get to say ‘no’ to her.”

Najma sneered. “What are you, her attack dog?”

“Better her dog than your babysitter,” Touko shot back, clearly done with being civil.

Najma’s hands curled into fists, her Miracle stirring within her. Vines sprouted from the ground, coiling around her arms as she prepared to teach him a lesson. “You’ve got a smart mouth for someone who’s supposed to be protecting me.”

Touko’s red goggles flashed. “What are you gonna do? Fight me? I just knocked you down in two seconds, dumbass.”

That was all Najma needed to hear. She lunged at him, her vines snapping forward like whips. Touko sighed, clearly annoyed, and stepped back through one of his doors, vanishing just as her attack hit the air where he had stood.

Najma, not one to back down, swung around, trying to track him. But every time she attacked, another door opened, and Touko stepped through it effortlessly, dodging her strikes with minimal effort. “Can’t hit what you can’t catch,” he taunted, his voice echoing from different spots in the room.

“Stay still, you coward!” Najma shouted, her frustration growing by the second. She kicked over a chair, sending it flying toward him, but once again, Touko disappeared into one of his portals, reappearing across the room.

“You’re just flailing at this point,” he said, his tone dry and unimpressed.

“Come here and say that to my face!” Najma snarled, her vines extending further as she went for a sweeping attack.

Touko didn’t flinch. He dodged the attack and finally decided to end the game. With a swift motion, he slipped behind her through another door and knocked her off balance, pinning her down before she could react.

“Calm down, will you?” he muttered, his grip firm but not painful. “I’m not here to kill you. This whole fighting thing is pointless.”

Najma, still fuming, tried to struggle free, but he held her in place with ease. “Let go of me!”

“Not until you stop acting like a brat,” Touko shot back, his tone deadpan.

They stayed like that for a tense moment, their frustration and mutual dislike hanging thick in the air. Finally, Najma stopped struggling, realizing that fighting him was pointless. “Fine, fine! I’ll calm down,” she grumbled, her pride clearly bruised.

Touko, sensing she was done, let her go and stepped back, brushing off his coat. “Look, I don’t want to be here any more than you want me to be. But you’ve got something going on, and Corazon thinks you’re worth saving. So, for better or worse, we’re stuck together.”

Najma stood up, brushing herself off, glaring at him. “This is going to be hell.”

Touko, still visibly annoyed by their scuffle, let out a long sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. "Alright, enough of this. Let’s just end it here. I need a place to rest."

Najma, already fed up with his presence, crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “A place to rest? You think I’m just going to let you crash at my place?”

Touko shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah. Where else am I gonna stay?”

Najma scoffed and turned away. “I don’t care. Go back to wherever it is you came from. You’ve got that magic door thing, don’t you? Just walk through one of those and go sleep in whatever creepy void dimension you sleep in.”

Touko’s eye twitched behind his red goggles. “I can’t,” he said, his tone flat. “Corazon stuck me here with you, remember? No walking through doors to escape this nightmare. I’m stuck.”

Najma shot him a deadpan look. “Sounds like your problem.”

Without another word, she started walking out of the diner, determined to leave this ridiculous situation behind her. Touko, however, wasn’t going to give up so easily.

He followed her, his footsteps echoing hers. Najma quickened her pace, not looking back. He’s not staying with me, she thought, picking up speed.

But Touko matched her pace effortlessly, his long coat swaying as he sped up to keep pace.

Najma narrowed her eyes, annoyed but refusing to look at him. She walked faster.

Touko, with a sigh of pure exasperation, walked faster too.

They continued this awkward speed-walking chase for several more steps, neither of them saying a word. Najma’s irritation grew with every second.

Finally, Najma broke the silence. “Will you stop following me, creep?!”

Touko rolled his eyes behind his mask. “Stop trying to avoid me, then!”

Najma, now completely fed up, broke into a run.

Touko, not about to be outrun, started running after her.

They sprinted through the forest, dodging overgrown roots and ducking under low-hanging branches, neither of them saying anything, just an increasingly ridiculous chase. It didn’t take long before both were clearly irritated beyond words.

“STOP FOLLOWING ME!” Najma shouted over her shoulder; her voice filled with frustration.

“STOP MAKING ME RUN!” Touko yelled back, equally annoyed.

Hours later, Yoko arrived at Najma’s house, feeling slightly curious but mostly indifferent about whatever wild goose chase Najma had dragged her into this time. Najma had called her earlier, insisting she come over at once, but hadn’t given much explanation. Now standing at the front door, Yoko knocked a few times, waiting for her friend to answer.

When the door finally opened, Yoko was greeted by the sight of a completely disheveled Najma. Her hair was a tangled mess, her clothes wrinkled, and her overall appearance screamed “I’ve been through hell.” Yoko blinked, taking in her friend’s state with wide eyes.

“What the absolute hell happened to you?” Yoko started, her voice dripping with concern and just a little judgment.

Before Yoko could say anything else, Najma grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her inside, slamming the door shut behind her. “I need your help with something,” Najma said quickly, cutting Yoko off.

Yoko raised an eyebrow, completely baffled. “Wait—what could have possibly gone so wrong in your investigation when you just started?”

Najma didn’t answer right away. Instead, she led Yoko into the living room, where a sight awaited her that made her jaw drop.

Tied up and struggling furiously in the middle of the living room floor was Touko. He had been tightly bound with ropes, his arms and legs secured in a way that ensured minimal movement, but that didn’t stop him from trying to free himself. To top it off, a strip of duct tape covered his mouth, muffling his angry protests.

Yoko stared at the scene for a good five seconds, completely speechless. Then, without saying a word or showing any emotion, she turned on her heel and calmly tried to walk back out of the house.

Najma, quicker than expected in her current exhausted state, grabbed Yoko by the arm. “Wait! I need your help.”

Yoko, still perfectly calm, though with a hint of exasperation, looked over her shoulder at Najma. “Najma... why is there—” She took a deep breath before finishing in a loud, bewildered tone, “A tied-up guy in your living room?!”

Najma sighed, running a hand through her messy hair. “Look, I can explain. This guy has something to do with Corazon and the church. He’s not exactly, um... cooperative, though.”

That at once caught Yoko’s attention. “Wait, Corazon?” Her eyes flicked back to the struggling man on the floor. “This guy is tied to that?”

“Yeah, but I need your help to make sure he doesn’t pull any tricks. He’s got some weird ability—he can teleport through doors or some other crap. I need you to use your Miracle to hold him down while I figure out what he’s up to.”

Yoko, still processing the insanity of what she was looking at, glanced at Touko again. He glared at both through his mask and goggles, his muffled grunts and struggles making it clear he was not enjoying this situation one bit.

After a moment of silent consideration, Yoko crossed her arms. “So, let me get this straight... you want me to use my Miracle to control this guy, just so you can interrogate him?”

Najma nodded, looking hopeful. “Exactly.”

Yoko sighed deeply but couldn’t hide the hint of amusement on her face. “You’re unbelievable, Najma. Fine. But if this goes sideways, it’s on you.”

With Yoko’s Miracle firmly in place, Touko’s body went rigid. He was still able to breathe and move his eyes, but his limbs were locked in position by Yoko’s Shadow Control, ensuring he couldn’t pull any of his door tricks to escape.

Najma, now feeling in control of the situation, stood over him, arms crossed, glaring down at him with determination. She was done being in the dark. Yoko stood nearby, her arms still crossed as she leaned casually against the wall, watching the scene unfold.

“Alright,” Najma began, her voice sharp and direct. “Let’s start with the basics. Who are you?”

Touko’s eyes flicked up toward her, his expression unreadable behind his mask. After a moment, he muttered, “Touko.”

Najma rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I figured out your name, genius. But who are you really?”

Touko, in typical fashion, responded vaguely. “I’m just someone Corazon sent. You don’t need to know more than that.”

Najma’s irritation flared. “You think that’s enough? Try again. What are you?”

Touko tilted his head slightly, considering how much he should reveal. “I’m what you’d call a... god candidate.”

Yoko, from her spot against the wall, raised an eyebrow. “A what?”

Najma shot a confused glance at Yoko before turning back to Touko. “God candidate? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Touko sighed, clearly annoyed by having to explain. “It means I’m in line to become a god. Simple as that.”

Yoko and Najma exchanged looks, neither of them quite sure if he was serious or just messing with them. “Become a god? So, like, you’re some kind of... trainee god or something?” Najma asked, her skepticism clear.

Touko shrugged slightly. “Something like that.”

“But you’re not a god?” Yoko chimed in.

“No.”

Najma rubbed her temples, already feeling the frustration mounting. “And Corazon? What’s your connection to her? Why did she send you here to protect me?”

Touko stared at her for a moment before answering in his usual vague manner. “Corazon has her own reasons. She thinks you’re worth protecting. That’s why I’m here.”

“That’s not an answer,” Najma snapped, leaning closer to him. “Why me? What danger could I be in that’s so serious Corazon needs you to babysit me?”

Touko’s eyes narrowed behind his mask. “Not telling you that.”

Najma’s jaw clenched. “So, you know something, but you’re just refusing to tell me?”

“Yep.”

She glanced at Yoko, clearly frustrated, before continuing. “Are there others like you? Other ‘god candidates’ running around?”

Touko let out an exasperated sigh, his patience wearing thin. “Yes, there are others. But you won’t be meeting them anytime soon. They’ve got their own business to deal with.”

Najma pinched the bridge of her nose. Every answer from Touko was like pulling teeth, and it was starting to get on her last nerve. She narrowed her eyes, deciding to go for something more personal. “One more question.”

Touko didn’t move, but she could feel him bracing for whatever nonsense she was about to throw at him next.

“Why the hell do you talk like that if you’re a ‘God candidate’?” Najma asked, sarcasm dripping from her tone.

Touko’s response was immediate, blunt, and laced with irritation. “Because I have no intention of telling you anything more than that, man.”

Najma glared at him, fists tightening at her sides. “You are the most—"

“Annoying person ever,” Yoko finished for her, clearly amused by the entire situation.

Touko remained silent, unmoved by their frustration. He wasn’t going to give them anything more, and he made that very clear with his flat refusal to engage further.

Najma huffed, stepping back, clearly frustrated by his vague answers and refusal to cooperate further. “You’re impossible.”

Touko gave a small shrug. “You’re welcome.”

A glowing door suddenly materialized beneath him, right on the floor where he was tied up. Najma barely had time to react before the door swung open, and Touko, still in his chair, vanished with a startled yelp, falling straight through it.

“What the—?!” Najma shouted, jumping back in shock. Yoko’s grip on her Miracle faltered, equally caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the door. It closed as quickly as it had appeared, leaving nothing but an empty spot where Touko had been.

For a few seconds, both Najma and Yoko just stood there, stunned.

Then, another door appeared, this time right beside Yoko. It creaked open, and out stepped Touko—completely untied and looking annoyingly casual. He had the chair he’d been tied to in one hand, and the discarded ropes in the other, as if they were nothing but props in a joke.

He grinned at Najma, clearly enjoying the moment. “You really thought a few ropes could hold me? Cute.”

Najma’s eye twitched with fury. “Are you kidding me?!”

Touko dropped the ropes and set the chair down with an exaggerated sigh. “What kind of babysitter would I be if I let you get the upper hand with something as simple as a rope? Honestly, Najma, I expected more from you.”

Najma stepped forward; hands clenched into fists. “You—! I’m gonna—”

“Let me guess,” Touko interrupted, crossing his arms smugly. “You’re gonna hit me? Again? Try another rope? A better chair next time?”

“I swear, you’re impossible!” Najma snapped, her temper flaring.

The two of them launched into a rapid-fire argument, voices rising as they bickered like siblings in the middle of a playground spat. Insults flew back and forth, with Najma’s frustration mounting and Touko clearly enjoying every second of her anger.

Meanwhile, Yoko stood on the sidelines, watching the chaos unfold with her arms crossed and a thoroughly confused expression on her face. Her eyes flicked between Najma and Touko as they continued their heated exchange, and she struggled to figure out what, if anything, she was supposed to do.

Finally, Yoko threw up her hands, utterly baffled. “Am I... supposed to jump in or something? What the hell is even going on right now?”

Neither Najma nor Touko answered her. They were too deep in their petty argument, completely ignoring the fact that Yoko was standing right there, still trying to wrap her head around the absurdity of the situation.

The rain came down in sheets, a soft hum going with each drop as it hit the cobblestone alley. Henry's coat clung to his body, soaked through as he walked alone, huddled under a cheap umbrella that barely did its job. The alleyway was narrow, suffocating in its isolation, the buildings looming on either side like silent sentinels. He had taken this route many times before, cutting through to save time, but tonight felt different. Eerie.

A distant sound echoed through the rain—the familiar hum that had followed him for days. The same tune he had heard in the rain before, haunting and gentle. He turned his head, eyes narrowing into the shadowy corners, but saw nothing. Must be imagining it.

Just as he looked ahead, two figures appeared from the shadows—men, faces hidden under hoods, blocking his way. One stepped forward, brandishing a knife.

"Wallet," the man barked, voice rough and impatient.

Henry felt his pulse quicken, panic clawing at his throat. He fumbled for his wallet, but his hands were shaking, the rain-slick leather slipping through his fingers. He had barely managed to hold it out when a third man suddenly grabbed him from behind, twisting his arms back.

"Let's make this quick!" one of them hissed, annoyed.

Henry’s heart raced as they rifled through his pockets, rough hands patting him down for anything worth taking. His mind screamed at him to fight, to do something, but fear kept him rooted to the spot. Then, without warning, a loud bang split the air, and an intense, searing pain shot through his neck.

He staggered backward, one hand instinctively clutching the wound, the warmth of his own blood spilling through his fingers. They shot me.

The world around him slowed. His knees buckled as the rain soaked deeper into his skin, and he crumpled to the ground. The men were long gone, their laughter fading into the distance, but Henry could hardly hear it now. His ears were filled with that haunting hum again, louder, closer.

As his vision started to blur, his head tilted to the side, and he saw her.

A figure—barely human—stepped lightly through the rain, her feet almost seeming to hover above the puddles. She twirled a black umbrella, the only thing clear in Henry’s distorted vision. Her long, elegant legs cut through the gloom, her every step graceful as if she moved in a world untouched by the chaos around her.

The tune came from her lips, a soft melody carried by the rain, enveloping him in its eerie familiarity. The woman—if she was a woman—glided toward him, her eyes obscured by the shadows of the umbrella. As she approached, the humming stopped, replaced by her voice—gentle, but laced with an unsettling calm.

"Shall I save you, my child?" she whispered, the words curling through the rain, wrapping around him like a warm embrace.

Henry tried to speak, tried to move, but his body refused. His vision darkened as blood pooled around him, the life draining from his body. His last thought, muddled and fragmented, was of the woman and her quiet question, lingering in the air as his eyes fluttered shut.

And then, there was only silence, the hum fading into the distance as Henry bled…