Chapter 12:
The 4th Person
Story of My Life: Revenge or Love?
The room went silent after the distorted voice faded away.Shiromi felt her heartbeat pounding against her ribs, louder than the static that still buzzed from the speakers.
Hayato slowly closed the laptop.His hands were steady, but his eyes weren’t.
“Shiromi… that voice wasn’t random. Someone "sent" this recording to us.”
She nodded stiffly.“Meaning they know exactly where we are.”
Hayato stood up, walked toward the window, and pulled the curtains shut.“We should move to a safer location.”
But Shiromi didn’t move.Her gaze stayed locked on the laptop.
“…Someone survived,” she whispered.
Hayato turned to her.“You survived.”
“No.” She shook her head firmly. “The message wasn’t talking about me. I was just a child. I didn’t know anything.”
Hayato hesitated.“You’re sure?”
She clenched her fists.
“If the "survivor" was a child like me… why call them the most dangerous? Why warn us?”
Hayato’s voice dropped.“…Because maybe the survivor wasn’t a child.”
A chill crawled up her spine.
Her father.Her mother.Her little brother…
No. It couldn't be one of them.They were gone. She was the only one who lived.
She forced the thought away and focused on the more logical threat.
“What if the survivor… is the one who caused it?” she said quietly.
Hayato didn’t respond.His jaw tightened.
She continued, almost afraid of her own theory:
“The message said: "Do not trust anyone from the original three families." Meaning—there were three families involved in… whatever happened that night.”
Hayato nodded slowly.“My family. Your family. And… one more.”
“And the survivor,” she whispered, “must belong to that third family.”
Hayato’s expression changed — sharp, focused, more serious than she had ever seen.“If that’s true, they’ve been hiding for years. Watching. Waiting.”
“And now they’re watching us” she said.
Hayato took a slow breath. “Then we need to find them before they find us.”
Before she could answer, the laptop pinged again.
A new message.No text.Just a symbol.
A black circle.Inside it — a white handprint.
Hayato inhaled sharply.“I’ve seen that symbol before.”
Shiromi turned to him.“Where?”
He looked straight into her eyes.
“On the night my mother disappeared.”
Her blood ran cold.
The survivor wasn’t just watching them.
"They were already close."
Hayato slowly closed the laptop.His hands were steady, but his eyes weren’t.
“Shiromi… that voice wasn’t random. Someone "sent" this recording to us.”
She nodded stiffly.“Meaning they know exactly where we are.”
Hayato stood up, walked toward the window, and pulled the curtains shut.“We should move to a safer location.”
But Shiromi didn’t move.Her gaze stayed locked on the laptop.
“…Someone survived,” she whispered.
Hayato turned to her.“You survived.”
“No.” She shook her head firmly. “The message wasn’t talking about me. I was just a child. I didn’t know anything.”
Hayato hesitated.“You’re sure?”
She clenched her fists.
“If the "survivor" was a child like me… why call them the most dangerous? Why warn us?”
Hayato’s voice dropped.“…Because maybe the survivor wasn’t a child.”
A chill crawled up her spine.
Her father.Her mother.Her little brother…
No. It couldn't be one of them.They were gone. She was the only one who lived.
She forced the thought away and focused on the more logical threat.
“What if the survivor… is the one who caused it?” she said quietly.
Hayato didn’t respond.His jaw tightened.
She continued, almost afraid of her own theory:
“The message said: "Do not trust anyone from the original three families." Meaning—there were three families involved in… whatever happened that night.”
Hayato nodded slowly.“My family. Your family. And… one more.”
“And the survivor,” she whispered, “must belong to that third family.”
Hayato’s expression changed — sharp, focused, more serious than she had ever seen.“If that’s true, they’ve been hiding for years. Watching. Waiting.”
“And now they’re watching us” she said.
Hayato took a slow breath. “Then we need to find them before they find us.”
Before she could answer, the laptop pinged again.
A new message.No text.Just a symbol.
A black circle.Inside it — a white handprint.
Hayato inhaled sharply.“I’ve seen that symbol before.”
Shiromi turned to him.“Where?”
He looked straight into her eyes.
“On the night my mother disappeared.”
Her blood ran cold.
The survivor wasn’t just watching them.
"They were already close."
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