Chapter 7: Secrets Between

Mitsuru sat stiffly in the meeting room, high in the building's top floor, staring intently at a flickering monitor. Banks of computers hummed around her, the soft whir and occasional static adding a muted soundtrack to her private surveillance. On the screen was a recording of Ruichi's dorm room, captured by the inconspicuous camera they'd had installed—a precaution she rarely questioned, though her intentions now felt tangled.

The video showed Ruichi sitting on his bed, examining a package he'd just received. Mitsuru's gaze sharpened, scrutinizing his every move. She watched as he set an unassuming book on the bed beside him, before stepping away to store some items in his cupboard. She was about to dismiss the footage as routine when suddenly, something on the screen caught her off guard.

The book moved on its own, and floated from the bed.

Mitsuru's eyes widened as she instinctively stood up from her seat, and her frown deepened as the video continued, showing Ruichi being inexplicably drawn into the book's pages, before disappearing altogether. Her mind raced as she glanced down at her desk, where that very book now sat, closed and silent. She felt an uncomfortable chill knowing the object was somehow tied to Ruichi's disappearance—an item now under her own hand yet as incomprehensible as the entire situation.

She pushed the book to the farthest corner of the table, as if mere distance could help her process what she'd just seen. The enormity of what had happened, of what this meant, weighed down on her as she searched for the next move.

What was she supposed to do with this knowledge? The absurdity of the situation felt almost mocking. She could hardly call up the chairman and explain that Ruichi, the boy who was both her responsibility and her fiancé through family arrangements, had vanished into a book. A book that now rested only inches away.

What kind of madness was this? 

Mitsuru's frustration simmered beneath the surface. The Kirijo family had dealt with bizarre incidents before, and had even courted mystery and danger in their own pursuits. Yet this… this was uncharted territory, and worse, she had no leads, no protocol to rely on. It was a helplessness she despised.

Frowning, she pulled out her phone, quickly scrolling through her short list of contacts until she landed on her father's name. 

What could he possibly make of this? Would he even believe her?

Just as her thumb hovered over the call button, a rustling sound made her jump back, snapping her gaze to the book. It had opened on its own. Again.

For an instant, instinct pushed her to jump away, protecting herself from the book's strange power. She stared at the open empty pages, her heart pounding as a reckless thought crossed her mind—what if she let it take her too? What if this was the only way to find Ruichi? But logic, and the lurking fear that she might never come back, quickly overrode the impulse. 

The book then jumped and floated in the air, and seeing this, Mitsuru jumped away once more, with her hand rushing to the evoker, the pistol-like tool to summon her persona, on her hip, ready for anything.

But instead of pulling something inside it, the book… spat out something. Or specifically, someone.

—

[First-Person POV]

Fuck. Ugh, that hurts.

After that blinding flash, it feels like the book spat me out like a bad meal. I blinked a few times, eyes adjusting to the dim light—and that dingy green carpet. Yep, it's the one that practically defines this dorm. I could smell it too, that musty mix of dust and old furniture. Real comforting.

Finally, I'm out.

But as my vision sharpened, I realized… this wasn't my room. I'd never seen this place before. Wait—how the hell did I get here? Did someone take the book?

I tried to push myself up, only for my legs to give out, leaving me slumped on the floor. When I turned my head, I saw her. Mitsuru, staring at me, wide-eyed, like she'd just seen a ghost.

"Kirijo-san?" I managed to say. "Why… am I here?"

That's when my gaze drifted to the screen behind her. It showed a recording of my room.

Shit. Right, this dorm's got a thing for surveillance. They hid it so well too. Luckily I didn't do anything embarrassing there. Probably something to deal with later.

Mitsuru knelt down, eyes scanning me up and down, lingering on my torso—specifically, the gaping hole in my shirt and the bloodstains everywhere. My clothes looked like I'd been through a meat grinder. Even though I'd been healed, the blood and the shredded fabric were still very much there.

"What—?" Mitsuru grabbed my hand, inspecting my clothes, her brow furrowed. "What happened to you?"

"It's nothing," I muttered. "But… Kirijo-san? Are you… spying on me?"

"A necessary precaution for this dorm," she replied, unfazed. "This is a special place, if you haven't noticed. Now, let me take you to the hospital."

"No. I'm fine." I pushed her hand away, a little too fast. "I'm just… exhausted."

"Exhausted?!" She looked at me like I'd just said I didn't need oxygen. "Look at yourself!"

I tried to stand again, but my legs still had other ideas. Mitsuru caught me, her hand firm on my shoulder, steadying me.

"I just… need rest," I insisted.

She guided me to the nearest sofa, settling me down with a look that screamed explain yourself. But she didn't sit. She stood over me, waiting, arms crossed in that no-nonsense way she had.

"I have many questions," she said, her tone unyielding. "But your health comes first. If you don't want to go to the hospital, I will bring a doctor here."

"Please, Kirijo-san," I said, locking eyes with her. "I don't want to repeat myself. I'm fine. I just need rest."

Her eyes narrowed. "Then explain the blood. And your… condition."

I shook my head. "Not now. The book… where is it?"

Her gaze shifted to it, lying ominously on the floor. "It's a dangerous item. And you want me to give it to you again?"

"Do you even know what it is?" I asked.

Silence. That was answer enough.

I sighed. So many secrets that I don't know the answer to yet.

Pushing through the wobble in my legs, I walked over to the book, crouched down, and picked it up. I opened it, and… there were words on the first pages now. They described everything I'd done in that tomb, in vivid detail, like it was some twisted novel.

I don't know anymore. I need to call Father. He might have answers.

Turning to Mitsuru, I tossed the book to her. She didn't even try to catch it, just took a wary step back. Given what she'd seen, I couldn't blame her.

"W-What are you doing?" she stammered.

"You want to know what I've been through?" I asked, nodding at the book. "Read the first pages."

"What? But it was emp—"

"Kirijo-san, let's be real. After today, there can't be much left that could surprise you."

She went quiet, arms folding beneath her chest. Eventually, with a wary look, she reached down and picked up the book. Satisfied, I headed toward the door, every step reminding me just how drained I felt.

At the threshold, I glanced back. Mitsuru was still wide-eyed, glued to the book as she read. "When you're done, just leave the book in front of my room. I need to rest. Don't tell anybody about this." I said. "Oh, and Kirijo-san? Cut the surveillance on my room. I didn't exactly consent to being watched."

—

The unanswered ringing on the other end of the line was the only sound filling the room as I sat on my bed. No answer from Father. Not surprising, I guess—it's 1:35 AM.

With a sigh, I snapped my flip phone shut. Maybe I was just desperate for answers. But right now? I need sleep more than I need explanations. Every muscle in my body feels like it's been wrung out and left to dry.