Juson didn't call Yokina.
Didn't explain.
Didn't even breathe properly.
He grabbed a broom.
A dustbin.
And walked straight to the car.
---
No breakfast.
No hesitation.
Just action.
---
He began cleaning.
Slow at first.
Then faster.
Scrubbing every surface.
Every corner.
Inside.
Outside.
As if removing it would undo what happened.
As if dust could forget.
---
The particles gathered.
Light.
Harmless-looking.
Completely wrong.
---
He dumped everything into a fresh dustbin.
Stared at it.
For a long moment.
Then picked it up and slipped inside the house quietly.
---
The basement door stood there.
Like it had been waiting.
---
Juson opened it slowly.
Darkness.
Silence.
Too clean.
Too still.
---
He stepped inside.
Placed the dustbin near a table.
And immediately felt it—
Something off.
Not visible.
Not audible.
But present.
---
"Juson!" Yokina called from upstairs.
He flinched.
"Bathroom," he replied quickly.
Then walked out.
Faster than he entered.
---
He didn't stay.
Not even a second longer.
---
In the kitchen, life continued pretending to be normal.
Yokina fed Herik patiently.
Spoon by spoon.
Routine.
Safe.
Predictable.
---
Then the wind came in.
Through the open window.
Cool.
Uninvited.
---
She stood up to close it.
Walked slowly.
Reached out.
Pulled it shut.
---
And noticed something.
On the floor.
A knife.
---
She frowned.
Did she leave it there?
Did the maid?
No.
That didn't feel right.
---
She picked it up.
Her fingers brushed against the blade.
Something coated it.
Fine.
Dust-like.
---
Rust, she assumed.
Because the truth would be insane.
---
She wiped it off with her fingers.
Casually.
Carelessly.
---
"Mamma… food," Herik called.
She placed the knife back.
Returned.
And picked up the spoon again—
Without washing her hands.
---
Back in the bathroom—
Juson turned the tap.
Paused.
His fingers felt something rough.
He looked down.
Dust.
Again.
---
He stared at it.
Then dismissed it.
Because acknowledging patterns means accepting consequences.
And he wasn't ready for that.
---
He washed his face.
Stepped out.
---
"Breakfast is on the table," Yokina said.
He nodded and sat down.
---
Herik sat nearby.
Quiet.
Watching.
---
Yokina spoke, almost casually.
"He brushed his teeth himself today."
---
Juson stopped.
Looked at Herik.
Then at his hands.
Then back at his face.
---
Something had changed.
Not visibly.
Not loudly.
But completely.
---
Juson resumed eating.
Slowly.
Like a man pretending not to notice a crack in the ground beneath him.
---
"I have to go to school," he said.
"It's early," Yokina replied.
"Event," he lied instantly. "I'm in charge."
---
Of course he was.
He was also apparently in charge of covering up reality now.
Great promotion.
---
He stepped outside.
Opened the trunk.
Checked the clothes which he collected from the kitchen last night.
The bat still there.
Good.
Violence always feels comforting when logic fails.
---
He got into the car.
Paused.
Looked at the house.
Too normal.
Too calm.
---
Then drove away.