Beyond, With a Yokai

Chapter 2: Your Name

While the fox was busy disintegrating Yakan's body—because clearly, even here, some version of laws existed that probably frowned upon straight-up murder—Yesenia remained frozen in place, trying to process what had just happened.

The heavy, metallic scent of blood still clung to the air, thick and suffocating. It soaked into her skin, her lungs, her thoughts. Breathing felt like swallowing fear. The room had absorbed the memory of what took place here—etched it into the walls like a scar.

She swallowed hard, hoping it might erase the bitter aftertaste of terror—but it only brought the memory sharper into focus.

And yet...
Despite the horror of it all, Yesenia found herself waiting for the fox to return.

Being alone felt unbearable.
He'd mentioned more than once how weakened souls—like hers—drew predators in this world like moths to a flame.

Who knew what other creatures might be lurking out there, waiting to feast?

The fox returned about ten minutes later—maybe a bit more.
He had already changed out of his blood-soaked clothes.

Now he wore a crisp, fitted white shirt that clung to his shoulders and chest just right. The top buttons were casually undone, revealing a silver chain that glinted at the base of his neck.

His black trousers were sharp and tailored, emphasizing his long legs.
Even his shoes—sleek leather boots—looked like they'd just been pulled from the box.

Every detail, down to his immaculately groomed hands, spoke of elegance and deliberate care.
A soft, smoky wood scent lingered in the air around him—subtle, but unforgettable.

"What are you sitting there for?" he asked with a smirk, as if he hadn't just ripped out someone's heart in front of her.

Yesenia's palms instantly went damp.
She couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes.

A voice echoed in her head: "Don't show fear. Don't show weakness."

"What do you want from me?" she asked, forcing her voice not to shake.

"You're covered in blood. Change clothes. I'll be waiting on the balcony when you're ready."

Yesenia looked down.
Dark stains bloomed across her jeans, dried and crusted.
Her stomach clenched, but she turned away quickly—refusing to let the nausea win.

Don't think about it. Pretend it's just mud. Or paint. Just don't think.

"What am I supposed to change into?" she muttered, curling her legs beneath her. "All I've got here is a blanket. Or are you suggesting I wrap myself in a sheet?"

The fox's grin widened, just enough to be infuriating.

"Well. That's up to your taste."

And with that, he left the room.
Through the door, surprisingly.

Only after the echo of his presence disappeared did Yesenia dare lift her head.
Everything looked... normal.

Furniture in place.
Roommates snoring softly, undisturbed.

She pushed herself to her feet—legs still like jelly—and walked to the wardrobe.
When she opened it, her breath caught.

All her clothes were neatly folded, untouched.
As if nothing had happened.

As if he'd never even been here.

Avoiding the sight of her trembling fingers, she grabbed the first clean outfit she could find.
Her eyes flicked around the room—checking for shadows, reflections, anything suspicious.