The Devil in My Room, Pt. 3

Later that night, I finally wrapped up the last of my homework. I'd spent the past couple of hours tucked away in my room, pencil in hand and notes sprawled across my desk. Megumi had been watching videos on the television when I started, the soft murmur of streaming content bleeding faintly through the walls. That's why I chose to work in my room — less distraction, more focus.

But now, as I leaned back in my chair and stretched, I realized something.

I hadn't heard a single sound from her in a while.

Maybe an hour? Maybe more.

Out of habit, I glanced out my window. The campus courtyard was bathed in moonlight, still and calm. No shouting students. No distant footsteps. Just a gentle silence clinging to the glass.

But it wasn't the outside that unsettled me.

It was the silence inside.

The living room — normally full of some sort of noise when Megumi was out there — was completely still.

Too still.

I sat there, suddenly aware of the uneasy quiet creeping through the apartment. The kind of quiet that made the hair on your neck stand up, like something was off but you couldn't put your finger on it.

And with Megumi around, quiet usually meant trouble.

I clicked my door open and took one step out. Suddenly, something moved in the corner of my vision.

Slowly, a head slowly emerged from the edge of the living room wall.

Black. Entirely black. Skin, eyes, everything. Her hair draped down like she'd just crawled out of a cursed well. I could've sworn the overhead light flickered for a split second.

I let out a choked cough. Then I clamped a hand over my mouth. As frightening as this is, a noise complaint is even worse.

"What the hell, Megumi?!" I whisper-screamed, backing into the entryway like I'd just walked into a horror movie set.

Megumi blinked at me with a wide, innocent grin. The stark black mask covering her face made it ten times creepier.

"Hey! Did you finish your homework?"

"Don't give me that! Why is your face black?!"

"Oh, this? I found some stuff in your washroom. Decided to pamper myself a little."

"...Stuff? What stuff?"

She disappeared into the washroom and returned holding a nearly empty bottle.

"This one. Said something about cleansing. I figured it'd help moisturize. It kind of stings, though. Makes my face feel heavy, like it's melting off my body. That's normal, right?"

I took the bottle from her, read the label, and let out the slowest exhale of my life.

"Megumi... This is a charcoal mask. It's not for moisturizing. It's for pulling stuff out of your skin. Like, aggressively."

Silence. She stared at me. Then looked at the bottle. Then back at me. That was when the cold reality settled in.

"...Oh."

"Nicely done."

"W-well, how was I supposed to know?!"

"Just read the damn bottle! And aren't you a model? How can you not differentiate between a moisturizing mask and a charcoal mask?"

"I don't know! I don't do my own makeup. I have people for that."

"Seriously..."

"Ah... W-wait, Shohei..."

"What is it this time?"

She leaned in slowly, her voice now low with genuine panic.

"How do I take it off?"

That was the moment I knew my weekend hadn't arrived just yet. In fact, it may very well never come at all.

Megumi stood frozen in the washroom doorway like a cursed statue. The charcoal mask had dried into a cracked, matte shell across her face, and even from a distance, I could see it tugging slightly every time she blinked.

I sighed.

"Alright. Sit down. I'll help you take it off before you rip your entire face off."

"Wait, you know how to do that?"

"That bottle belongs to me, after all. If anything, you should know way more than I do, but you've got people to do your makeup for you."

"Okay, okay, I get it!"

Megumi sat down on the edge of the couch, posture stiff like she was about to undergo surgery.

I knelt in front of her and gently tilted her chin up.

"Alright. Hold still."

I found a corner near her jaw and began to peel slowly. Immediately, she hissed through her teeth.

"Damn... this thing is tight. Don't go dying on me. You wanted smooth skin. This is the price."

"I didn't wanna be skinned alive! O-ouch..."

"It's called beauty through suffering. Isn't this, like, your whole vibe?"

"I'm not a masochist, Shohei."

I tried to suppress the grin threatening to break out on my face. But the more I peeled, the funnier it got. Every few seconds, she'd twitch, and the mask would crack just enough to make her look like a monster mid-transformation.

Still, I didn't laugh.

Even when she yelped like a cartoon character as I peeled off the part on her nose, I stayed quiet.

When it was finally off, I handed her a damp towel.

Megumi dabbed at her face with a wince, then looked at herself in the reflection of her phone screen.

"Huh. Not bad, actually. I look like I've been reborn."

"That's one way of putting it. You should really be more careful. If you use the wrong product in the wrong place, you could end up damaging your skin. Next time, just—"

I turned to see her glancing at me, her eyes still tinted with embarrassment.

She lowered the towel into her lap and stared at it. A breath escaped her — light, small, but sincere.

"Thanks, Shohei. I really appreciate it."

I stood up and stretched, but that was just an act to hide whatever face I was making.

"Sure. Although next time, maybe ask before you start putting chemicals on your face."

"Hmm... Maybe next time, I'll just use the dish soap. Nice citrus glow."

"Don't joke about that. Otherwise, I'm gonna have to hide it from you. Among many other things now, I guess."

She smirked. But even behind it, I could tell — she was a little more at ease. And weirdly enough... so was I.

"Alright," I said, reaching into the cabinet under the sink. "Let's do this properly."

Megumi perked up.

"Properly?"

I pulled out a small white box.

"You wanted to moisturize, right? This is what you were actually looking for."

Megumi's eyes shone like a student being noticed by the teacher. She ran back into the living room and plopped down on the couch, posture straight as if readying herself for this.

"Pfft... Sit still, alright? It's not gonna be as painful as the charcoal mask. Just a bit... ticklish."

"I'm ready!"

I grabbed the bottle of cleanser and pumped some into my hand.

"I'm only doing this once, and I'm not dealing with you flailing around."

"I'm not flailing. I'm just reacting to trauma."

"Trauma caused by your own bad decisions."

She pouted, but tilted her face up anyway with her eyes closed.

I swallowed.

It's fine. Just skincare. Totally normal.

I began applying the cleanser, gently massaging it into her skin with my fingertips. The warmth of her face. The faint, slow rhythm of her breathing. How close I was — how stupidly close I had to be just to avoid getting cleanser in her eyes...

This is bad. Megumi might be having a good time with this free spa treatment, but my heart definitely isn't.

After a quick rinse, I reached for the sheet mask. I opened the package carefully, pulled out the cold, damp sheet, and took a breath to steady my hands.

"Okay. Don't move."

As I leaned in to place it, I got a full view of her features. Her long lashes, the curve of her nose, the shape of her lips — plump and red. And, of course, my brain just had to zoom in on that last part. For a second, I caught myself staring, my thumb nearly brushing the corner of her mouth.

I jerked my hand back slightly, breathing erratically.

"Shohei?" she called out, her eyes still closed.

"It's nothing... A-anyway, here comes the last part."

Shit... What was I thinking about just then? How could I?

I carefully finished applying the mask, pressing down the edges and smoothing it over her cheeks.

"Done. Now, I need to get ready for bed."

"Huh? Wait, what— Hey!"

I stood up so fast I almost tripped over the rug. Then I turned and made a beeline to my room.

Door shut. Lock clicked. Silence.

My breath hitched, and I leaned against the door like I had just escaped a trap. My heart was racing so loud, I wondered if she could hear it from outside.

"What the hell was that?" I whispered.

It wasn't just the closeness, or the mask, or the way she smiled through it like we'd done this a thousand times.

It was the fact that I almost leaned in.

I exhaled, shaking my head.

This is dangerous... and it's not just because she's a stranger in my home anymore.