Chapitre 6: Ch 6 - An Ominous Feeling (2)
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The house was silent except for the soft ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway.
Kenshiro sat on the edge of his bed, bathed in the faint glow of his phone screen. He had checked the time again—9:43 PM now. His parents had left that morning, their voices and laughter still echoing faintly in his mind. Yet the growing void of their absence was suffocating.
He had tried rationalizing it—poor reception, a delayed meeting, perhaps even a dead battery. But none of those excuses calmed the storm in his chest. His instincts, sharp and honed through another lifetime, refused to be silenced.
Something was wrong.
He knew it.
Unable to endure the solitude of his room any longer, Kenshiro pushed himself to his feet. The wooden floors creaked softly under his weight as he made his way into the hallway. The estate felt eerie at night, the vastness of its halls now cold and foreign.
Shadows danced along the walls, their movements exaggerated by the dim, flickering sconces.
The kitchen light was still on, spilling a warm glow into the darkened corridor. As Kenshiro stepped inside, he found Misaki at the sink, carefully drying a porcelain plate. She looked up at the sound of his footsteps, her face softening with a smile.
"Young Master," She said warmly, setting the plate aside and wiping her hands on her apron. "Are you hungry? Do you want me to prepare something?"
Kenshiro shook his head, his gaze dropping to the floor.
"Misaki," He said quietly.
The subtle shift in his tone made her pause. Misaki turned fully toward him, concern flickering in her brown eyes. "What is it? You look troubled."
He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. "I've been trying to call my parents," he admitted, his voice low. "Their phones are out of reach."
Misaki's smile faded. She tilted her head slightly, frowning.
"That's odd," She said, her tone thoughtful. "It's not like them to be unavailable for so long. Their meeting must have run late, right?"
"Maybe," Kenshiro said, though his words lacked conviction. His hands clenched at his sides, betraying the calm façade he was trying to maintain. "It just... doesn't feel right."
Misaki stepped closer, her expression softening. She placed a hand on his shoulder, a comforting gesture that spoke of the sibling-like bond they shared. "Your parents are resourceful, strong people, Kenshiro-sama. You know that better than anyone. I'm sure they're fine."
Her reassurance was sincere, but it did little to quell the storm inside him. Misaki noticed his hesitation, her brows knitting together in concern.
"If it would help ease your mind," She offered, "we can call their hotel. Check if they've arrived safely?"
Kenshiro nodded, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. "Please do that."
Misaki wasted no time. She crossed the room to the wall-mounted landline, her fingers dialing the number with practiced efficiency. Kenshiro watched her, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. The faint hum of the line connecting was the only sound in the room.
She waited, her expression unreadable, until finally, her voice broke the silence. "Hello, this is Misaki from the Hirano household. I was wondering if—
Her words faltered, and Kenshiro's heart skipped a beat. He took a step closer, his eyes fixed on her face. "What is it?"
Misaki held up a hand, motioning for him to wait.
"I see. Thank you for letting me know," She said softly before hanging up the phone.
"What did they say?" Kenshiro asked, his voice sharper than he intended.
Misaki turned to him, her expression a careful mask.
"They haven't checked in yet," She said, her tone measured.
A cold weight settled in Kenshiro's stomach. "Not at all?"
"They might still be on the road," She said quickly, attempting to reassure him. "You know how traffic can be at this time of year. Or maybe they decided to stay somewhere closer to the meeting venue. It doesn't necessarily mean something's wrong."
But Kenshiro wasn't convinced. The knot in his chest only tightened, the sense of dread more pronounced now than ever. He nodded absently, retreating to his thoughts as Misaki continued to speak.
----
The hours dragged by. Kenshiro returned to his room, though any thought of sleep had long since abandoned him. He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, the shadows playing tricks on his tired eyes.
They haven't checked in yet?
The words repeated in his mind like a mantra, feeding the growing panic. He glanced at the clock again. Midnight. His parents should have arrived hours ago.
Every second screamed at him, every minute weighed heavier than the last. He clenched his fists, willing himself to stay calm, but his instincts wouldn't let him. They churned and writhed, warning him of danger in ways he couldn't yet comprehend.
His memories from a past life came flooding back, unbidden. A life where hesitation could mean death, where trust was a currency traded carefully, and where he had learned to listen to his gut no matter what.
Those instincts, sharpened by countless battles and betrayals, were screaming at him now.
The estate felt colder, emptier. The walls seemed to close in around him, the once-familiar space now alien. He rose from his bed and walked to the window, pulling back the curtain to gaze into the gardens.
The moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the landscape. The trees swayed in the wind, their branches clawing at the sky like desperate hands.
For a moment, Kenshiro thought he saw movement near the treeline, a fleeting shadow that vanished as quickly as it appeared.
He blinked, his breath hitching.
It's just your mind playing tricks, He told himself.
But the unease wouldn't leave him. He turned away from the window, pacing the length of his room. His phone lay on the bedside table, taunting him with its silence. He picked it up, his thumb hovering over the call button.
Should he try again? Call his father, his mother, someone—anyone?
But what if the calls went unanswered? Could he handle the silence, the emptiness that followed?
Kenshiro set the phone down, his hands trembling. His past life had taught him to expect the worst, to prepare for betrayal and chaos at every turn.
But this was different. This was his family.
He sat back on the bed, his head in his hands. The minutes ticked by, each one dragging him deeper into the abyss of his thoughts.
They're fine, He told himself, over and over, as if saying it enough times would make it true. They're fine. They have to be.
But no matter how hard he tried to convince himself, the dread refused to leave. It clung to him like a second skin, whispering in the dark.
And somewhere, deep down, Kenshiro knew.
This was only the beginning.
--- ✦ ✦ ✦ ---
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