David stared at the pale girl standing before him, her smile stretching wide to radiate a terrifying, pure joy. But he felt nothing but a knot of confusion and fear tightening in his gut. *She's mine,* he thought. *What does she mean by that?*

  Memories of the previous night clawed their way back, her voice whispering that she loved him. *Is she forcing us to become a couple?* *Is she forcing me to become her boyfriend?*

  His spiraling thoughts were cut short by the girl's voice. "Your coffee is going to get cold," she said gently. "You should eat your breakfast."

  She watched him, her expression twisting into concern as her eyebrows knit together. The look sent a sharp jolt of adrenaline pumping through David’s veins. He cautiously lowered himself onto the couch. *She wants me to eat,* he thought. *She keeps telling me. If I don't, I don't know what she's capable of. She might just kill me, like those guys last night.*

  The golden rope coiled on the cushion uncurled, slithering aside to clear a space for him. David stared at it, baffled. *How is this thing doing that?* he thought. *It's almost as if it's alive, but it also looks like she's controlling it.*

  He sank into the cushions, eyes locked on the plate. The food looked suspicious, too perfect.

  The girl tilted her head. "Does it not look good enough?" she asked. "Should I throw it away and make it again?"

  "No," David said quickly, lifting a hand to stop her. *Even if I refuse,* he thought, *she's just going to throw it away and force me to eat something else. But I can't waste food. I bought this with my own cash, and it was expensive enough.*

  He picked up the fork, his grip tight. He dug into the yolk, his hand trembling slightly. *What if she poisoned the food?*

  He shook the thought away. *No, why would she do that? Why would she go through all this trouble, killing those men, cleaning the house, just to poison me now? It wouldn't make sense.*

  He opened his mouth and bit down on the egg.

  Instantly, a wave of savory richness exploded across his tongue. His eyes widened.

  The suffocating fear and confusion he’d felt moments ago evaporated, replaced by the pure, physical pleasure of the taste.Yuki saw his reaction. She pressed a hand to her lips, her breath hitching. "What is it?" she asked, voice small. "Is it bad?"

  "No," David said, stunned. "It's good."

  He swallowed, looking at her in surprise. He had just complimented the food accidentally, as if he weren't in a life-or-death situation.The ghost girl chuckled, the sound soft and filled with joy. "I'm glad to hear that."

  She clasped her hands together in front of her, lowering them to her thighs. "I... I was afraid I didn't make it with enough love for you."

  David swallowed again, his fork freezing in mid-air. *With enough love?* *She’s saying she cooked this with love.*

  He looked down at the plate, mind racing. These were just normal eggs and bacon. The cheapest cuts from the grocery store. *How did they taste this good? Did she add other ingredients? No. Where would she even find them?*

  He looked at her. She stood there, eyes cast down, looking almost shy.

  *This girl,* he thought. *I don't really know what she is. Is she a ghost? Some kind of demon? Or a spiritual entity I’ve never heard of?*

  His gaze shifted to the golden rope. It was wiggling on the floor, its knotted head facing him, almost as if it were happy to hear his words too.

  "Just what are you?" he asked.

  She lifted her head immediately, locking eyes with him. The rope stopped wiggling, going still.

  "What am I?" she repeated. "I'm..."

  She paused, thinking. "As I said before, I'm yours."

  "No," David said, frustration creeping into his voice. "I'm not... that's not what I... What I'm saying is, what are you exactly? Are you a ghost? An evil spirit?"

  "No, I'm not evil," she said quickly. "I promise. I'm just..."

  She slapped a hand against her chest, staring at the wooden floor as she searched for the words. "I am..."

  She looked to the side. "Yours."

  The word came out as a whisper, dragged out and heavy.

  David watched her. *Why is she saying it like that?* *It’s almost as if she doesn't know what she is. She just keeps saying she’s mine. It’s so strange.*

  She looks like a person, he thought. She even behaves like one. I mean, she acts like a psychopath, but like a person. *She must have a name, right? It’s only logical.*

  "What is your name, then?"

  She looked at him, blinking. "My name...?" She hesitated, looking as if she didn't remember. Then her face lit up. "Oh. It's Yuki. Yuki. My name is Yuki."

  She smiled at him.

  *Yuki?* The name sounded foreign. *Now that I think about it,* he said, looking at her from head to toe, *she looks slightly foreign as well. I mean,* I couldn't tell from her pale skin, but she really does look foreign.

  "Where do you come from?"

  *I at least need to know about her,* he thought, the question burning in his mind.

  Yuki blinked, her expression unclouded. "I don't know," she said simply.

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  "Huh?" David leaned forward, his brow furrowing. "What do you mean, you don't know?"

  "I can't recall the name," she said. She looked down, pressing a pale finger to her lips in thought. "I can vaguely remember what it looks like... but I can't remember."

  She looked back at David, a small, warm smile returning to her face. "But that's not important. What's important is... now that I'm here with you."

  David sighed inwardly, feeling the weight of her obsession. *She keeps going back to this. Making it all about me.* *But it looked like she truly couldn't remember where she came from, or what she was. Or maybe she's just good at pretending.*

  Her gaze drifted around the spotless house. *The bodies...* The thought hit him like a brick. He couldn't hold it in. "The bodies... what did you do with them?"

  His heart started beating faster, drumming against his ribs as he waited for the answer. *One wrong move could land me in jail,* he thought, panic rising in his chest.

  "Oh, those," she said, her tone casual. "I buried them outside."

  David flushed, the color draining from his face. "You buried them... outside?"

  Yuki looked at him, her eyes wide and innocent. "Don't worry. I used the shovel in the storeroom. I buried them twenty meters deep so the smell doesn't bother you."

  David was surprised, his mouth falling slightly open. *Twenty meters deep?* She buried them that deep? Graves were mostly two meters deep. *If I'm just guessing, at least that's what Uncle James’ grave looked like...*

  "Should I have buried them deeper?" she asked, looking at him with genuine curiosity.

  "What?" David stared at her. "No. I mean, that's not what I'm asking for."

  *Is there even a way for them to find them if they're buried that deep?* he thought, his mind racing. *Plus, what am I thinking? Would a gang even look? They wouldn't report a crime. She buried the evidence.*

  He looked at her, anxiety rising in his chest. "What about the gun? What happened to it?"

  "Oh," she said. "I broke it and buried it with them as well."

  "You broke it?"

  "Yes," she answered, her voice flat. "That man put his disgusting thing inside you. So I had to break it apart and bury it."

  "Ah," David said, cutting off his sentence. He felt a wave of revulsion; she definitely could have phrased that a lot better.

  "You should really eat your food," she said, her tone brightening instantly. "Your coffee's getting cold, and you'll be late for work."

  David's eyes widened. *I'll be late for work? Right. I have to go to work today.*

  He paused, a new realization hitting him. *Wait... does this mean she's actually letting me go? The door was locked. That means with her permission, I can leave. If I clean my act right, I can actually get out of this place.*

  He started eating the food and drinking the coffee. *Fast.* The food was delicious, but he forced himself to swallow without tasting it, shoveling it in just to be done.

  Yuki looked at him, surprised. A small giggle escaped her lips. *Wow,* she thought to herself. *He's really enjoying the food. He must really like it.*

  "How wonderful!" she blurted out, her hands clasping together.

  David ignored her. He finished the last bite, stood up quickly, and said, "Right." He headed towards the door. "Open the door now. I've got to go for work."

  He grabbed the handle and pulled. It didn't budge. It was stuck fast.

  She giggled again, the sound light and mocking. "Oh, don't be silly. You can't go to work looking like that. You didn't even take a shower yet."

  *Shit,* David thought. *I was so focused on heading out before doing anything else. I didn't think she'd actually want me to take a shower and get ready for work first.*

  He gritted his teeth and turned around to face her. The golden rope slithered across the floor, moving toward him.

  Yuki’s feet lifted off the ground. She hovered inches from the floorboards, floating towards him.

  David's heart started beating frantically. The sight of her moving toward him, offering to "help," made his skin crawl.

  "Come on," she said softly. "You'll be late. I'll help you."

  The knot of the rope snapped tight around David’s wrist. It slithered backward, jerking him toward the hallway with surprising strength. David stumbled, caught off guard by the iron grip, while Yuki floated beside the rope, gliding toward the bathroom.

  "Help me?" David blurted out. "What do you mean?"

  Yuki turned to him. "I'm going to help you take a shower, of course."

  David stared at her. "What? It'll be faster that way? You're running late?"

  He tried to yank his hand back, digging his heels in as the rope dragged him into the hallway. "No! I can do it myself."

  "So you don't want me to?" Yuki asked, her voice turning small.

  "Yes! I'm a grown adult. I'm not some child," David snapped.

  The rope instantly released him.

  David grabbed his wrist, staring at the faint, red patterns the braid had left on his skin. "All right," he muttered, breathless. "It seems like you don't need my help anyway."

  She looked down, her expression falling into a pout. "But you have to hurry."

  "Yeah, I know."

  He hurried toward the bathroom, not looking back. He reached for the door, threw it open, and slammed it shut behind him. He leaned against the wood, heart hammering against his ribs. *That was close.* *What the hell is wrong with her? Did she actually want to wash me?*

  He spun around, yanking his t-shirt over his head. *I have to do this fast. I have to get out of here quick.*

  *As long as I get out of here.*

  As the shower roared to life in the bathroom, Yuki hovered in the bedroom. She watched the golden rope slither over the mattress, pulling the sheets taut and smoothing out every wrinkle under her silent command. She paused at the sound of the rushing water, and a slow, satisfied smile spread across her face.

  *Finally,* she thought to herself. *I'm actually doing it. He can also see me.*

  She sighed, her eyelids drooping heavily with disappointment. She muttered under her breath, the words barely audible. "But I wish I could touch things. I wish I could feel him. The warmth of his breath, the smell of his clothes... Maybe that way he would truly feel my love for him."

  Lost in that thought, the bathroom latch clicked. She spun around instantly, the golden rope whipping into motion behind her. With a sharp mental command, the rope snatched a pile of clothes from the dresser—his work uniform—and held them out toward him.

  David opened the door, his hair slightly wet. Steam still curled off his dark tan skin. He looked at the moisture drying on his arm, then at her.

  "The water," he said, his voice tight. "It was hot."

  "Oh, sorry," she said softly, tilting her head. "Next time I'll just make it slightly warmer."

  David blinked, looking at her. He was slightly impressed, surprised by the supernatural ability she displayed so casually. But right alongside that awe, a bit of fear crept in. She had total control over the environment.

  "I've picked up some clothes for you," she said.

  The rope extended, pushing the bundle of fabric toward him. David looked down. They were the exact clothes he wore every time he went to work—his uniform. The realization hit him: she had been watching. She knew his patterns perfectly.

  "Oh, thanks," he muttered, grabbing them from the golden fibers. He turned and tossed them onto the bed, a little too hard.

  She beamed at him. "You're welcome."

  *He's thanking me,* she thought, glowing internally.

  David turned back, his jaw tight. "I want to change. If you don't mind."

  "Huh?" She blinked, looking genuinely confused. "

  "I'd like some privacy."

  "Oh. Right. Sorry."

  She glided toward the hallway, the rope slithering obediently behind her. As she stepped out, the rope lashed back and pulled the bedroom door shut with a soft click.

  David sighed, exhaling a breath he didn't know he was holding.

  *Was she going to let me just change in front of her?* he thought, the idea making his skin crawl.

  As David changed, Yuki floated to the living room. She gathered the tray and dishes, gliding toward the kitchen. The golden rope lashed out, its knotted head gripping the sink tap. It twisted the knob, and water rushed out as the rope began to scrub the plate.

  David finished shoving his feet into his shoes. He glanced at the wallet resting near his pillow. He grabbed it and flipped it open.

  He froze. The money the muscular man had stolen was back inside, stuffed into the leather folds.

  He rushed to the wardrobe, yanking the doors open. The bundles of cash he’d hidden there were also stacked neatly in place.

  He yanked the bundles out.

  Memories of the night before flooded his mind. The men tearing his room apart, saying it wasn't enough. Torturing him for the full amount.

  "James... just what the hell were you doing?"

  "Damn it," he muttered, sweat pricking his forehead. "I almost got killed because of you."

  He gripped his head with both hands, fingers digging into his scalp. *Can I even go out?* he thought. *What if they see me on the street and drag me into a van?*

  He shook the thought away. *But then again...* He looked at the closed door. *I'm stuck in a house with some hostile-looking thing. She acts obsessed with me. Or maybe she just wants to control my life.*

  *She's unusual. Unpredictable. She might kill me before I even realize it. I have to take this chance and leave.*

  He shoved the wallet into his pocket. Then he grabbed a black empty bag, the same one that had held the rope originally, and shoved the stacks of cash inside. He glanced around the room to be sure, *They didn't check under the frame*,

  He immediately shoved the bag deep under the bed frame.

  standing up he took a deep breath, and opened the door to the hallway.

  He walked into the living room. Yuki stood there, her gaze fixed on him, a smile plastered on her face. She tracked his every movement.

  He went to the storage room and hauled out the bike. He looked at her. "The door. Does it open now?"

  "Of course," Yuki said.

  The rope didn't hesitate. It slithered across the floorboards with terrifying speed, a blur of gold, and snapped the door open.

  David flinched, his heart skipping a beat. He had tracked the movement, but it was so fast it almost looked like it had teleported.

  "Thanks," he muttered, stomach knotting as he wheeled the bike toward the exit.

  He took one step onto the porch. The morning light hit him, soft and pale. The air was cool and crisp, a stark relief from the stifling, sterile atmosphere inside the house.

  The rope lashed out, its grip closing tight around his wrist.

  David stopped, gritting his teeth. He fought the pull, turning back. "What are you doing?" he snapped.

  A single, smaller strand uncoiled from the main body of the rope. It wrapped around his wrist, forming a sleek golden band. The design was made of connected sideways eights that looped all the way around to form a continuous circle.

  The rope released him.

  David stared at the golden loop on his skin. "What is this?"

  "That is a part of me," Yuki said softly. "I can't let you go out alone. It allows me to be right beside you. Anywhere you go."

  "What?" David stared. "Why? You don't have to do that. I'll be perfectly fine."

  Yuki shook her head, her expression hardening into seriousness. "No. Those men... there could be more of them out there. I have to protect you."

  "But—" David started.

  "I wanted you to still be able to go out," she said, her voice cutting him off. "I didn't want you to feel trapped..."

  *Trapped?* David thought, staring at her. *Is she serious?* *I already feel trapped just from her being in this place.*

  "Won't people see you?" David asked.

  "No," Yuki said. "They won't be able to see me. Only you will."

  He turned his body fully to her. "I don't want that. It's going to be distracting if I'm the only one who can see you. It's going to be strange."

  Immediately, Yuki vanished.

  David stumbled back a step, his pulse jumping in his throat.

  She reappeared right where she had been, tucking a strand of white hair behind her ear. "I can make myself disappear. I won't distract you during work. I promise."

  David opened his mouth to speak, but his mind went blank. *Just what the hell is going on?* he thought. *I thought I was running away from her, but... She isn't letting me go. I didn't even think that she could leave with me.*

  He looked at the rope. It glinted in the morning light on his wrist, a seamless, expensive-looking band.

  His throat worked tightly.

  "I'm sorry for saying this constantly," she said, her voice gentle, "but you're going to be late."

  "Yeah," David said. "I'm going."

  He stepped out onto the porch. A section of the golden rope extended from the band, snaking toward him to deposit the house key in his palm.

  David stared at the brass metal for a second too long, his eyes darting between the key and the golden cuff locked around his wrist. He took it.

  He pulled the front door shut. The rope slipped from the band and stayed inside, and he heard the lock click into place from the other side.

  A cold pit formed in his stomach at the thought of leaving the rope inside his house knowing exactly what it was now.

  He shoved the key into his pocket, grabbed his bike, and walked it down the path.

  He was almost at the yard gate when a sharp mechanical chirp shattered the morning silence.

  He snapped his head to the side.

  In the driveway next door, a black Demio sat gleaming. The blonde haired girl stood beside it, dressed in a crisp office uniform.

  She opened the car door. As her eyes met David's, his heart hummed against his chest, but in turn, her own eyes widened, surprised to see him standing there.