WALL OF THE WOLFES

CHAPTER 3 — THE BOY IN THE OLD HOUSE

“Aiko!”

Aiko turned sharply.

The voice cut through the chaos like something real—something grounding.

“Obaachan…?”

Her grandmother stood a few steps away, breath uneven, eyes wide with worry. She looked older than Aiko remembered—fragile, but still standing strong against the madness around them.

Without waiting, she rushed forward and grabbed Aiko’s wrist.

“We’re leaving. Now.”

Aiko didn’t resist.

Didn’t question.

Her mind was still tangled between the past and present, her heartbeat refusing to settle.

They moved quickly through the narrow streets, away from the broken wall, away from the screams, away from the truth that had just begun to surface.

The deeper they went—

the quieter it became.

Too quiet.

Like this part of the city had been forgotten.

Or abandoned.

“Obaachan… where are we going?” Aiko finally whispered, her voice unsteady.

Her grandmother didn’t look back.

“Somewhere safe.”

Safe.

The word felt strange now.

Uncertain.

After what Aiko had seen tonight, she wasn’t sure such a place even existed.

They stopped in front of an old house.

Small.

Worn.

The wood creaked under the slightest touch of wind.

Aiko frowned.

“I’ve never seen this place before…”

“You weren’t meant to,” her grandmother replied quietly.

Something about her tone made Aiko’s chest tighten.

The door slid open with a soft sound.

Darkness greeted them.

“Come.”

Aiko hesitated for a second—

then stepped inside.

The air felt different.

Still.

Heavy.

Like the house itself was holding memories.

Her grandmother closed the door behind them.

For a moment—

everything was silent.

Then—

a faint sound.

Aiko’s gaze shifted toward the center of the room.

And froze.

A teenage boy sat on the floor.

Calm.

Unmoving.

A simple bowl of rice rested beside him.

Like he had been there for a while.

Waiting.

Aiko’s breath caught.

Something about him felt… familiar.

Not his face.

Not his presence.

But something deeper.

Something her heart recognized before her mind could.

The boy slowly lifted his head.

Dark eyes met hers.

Sharp.

Quiet.

Unreadable.

Aiko’s chest tightened.

“…You,” she whispered without realizing.

The boy didn’t respond immediately.

He just watched her.

Like he was studying something long lost.

Then—

he spoke.

“You’re late.”

Aiko blinked.

“What…?”

Her grandmother stepped forward, her grip on Aiko tightening slightly.

“Aiko,” she said softly, “this is Ren.”

Ren.

The name echoed strangely in her mind.

The boy stood up slowly.

Tall.

Composed.

Too composed for someone their age.

“Ren Kurokami,” he said, his voice calm but firm.

Aiko stared at him.

That name—

it stirred something inside her.

Something she couldn’t explain.

“Have we… met before?” she asked, hesitant.

For a moment—

just a moment—

something flickered in his eyes.

Pain.

Gone as quickly as it appeared.

“No,” Ren replied.

A lie.

Aiko felt it.

Didn’t know how—

but she felt it.

Her grandmother exhaled quietly. “He’s been waiting for you.”

“Waiting…?” Aiko repeated, confusion rising.

Ren stepped closer.

Not too close.

Just enough.

His gaze didn’t leave her face.

“Do you remember anything?” he asked.

Aiko’s throat went dry.

Fragments flashed in her mind—

Blood.

Fire.

Her mother’s voice.

Subject confirmed.

She shook her head slowly.

“…No.”

Silence stretched between them.

Heavy.

Unspoken.

Ren looked at her for a long moment—

then sighed, almost inaudibly.

“Of course you don’t.”

Something about the way he said it—

not surprised.

Not disappointed.

Just… expected—

made Aiko uneasy.

“Remember what?” she asked, her voice firmer now.

Ren didn’t answer.

Instead, he turned slightly, glancing toward her grandmother.

“She saw it, didn’t she?”

Aiko stiffened.

Her grandmother didn’t deny it.

“…Yes.”

Ren’s jaw tightened.

“Then it’s starting again.”

Aiko’s heart skipped.

“Starting… what?”

This time—

he looked directly at her.

Really looked.

And for the first time—

his calm expression cracked.

Just slightly.

“Everything,” he said quietly.

Aiko felt a chill run down her spine.

Nothing about this felt normal.

Nothing about him felt normal.

And yet—

that strange familiarity remained.

Like she had known him once.

Like she had lost him.

“…Why does it feel like I know you?” she asked, almost to herself.

Ren didn’t answer right away.

He simply stepped closer—

close enough that she could see the faint tension in his eyes.

And then—

softly—

he said,

“You’re not supposed to remember me.”

Aiko’s breath caught.

The room felt smaller.

Colder.

Like the truth was pressing in from all sides.

Outside, the distant howl of a wolf echoed through the night.

And for the first time—

Aiko realized—

she hadn’t escaped anything.

She had just stepped deeper into it.

---