"Papa, what happened? Why was the policeman pointing at you?" Hina asked, her mouth half-full as she sat alone at the large wooden table.

  Tanashi, standing at the sink, continued scrubbing a plate with Olympian calm.

  "He just thought I was a criminal because of my appearance," he replied in a steady voice. "Afterward, we simply talked, and he apologized."

  Hina furrowed her brow, her small fists tightening over her chopsticks.

  "I hate people who judge by appearances, Papa. Why are they all like that? I’m afraid they’ll hurt you one day..."

  Tanashi stopped scrubbing. He turned slowly, wiping his wet hands on his worn apron.

  "You know, Hina, we humans are all afraid of the unknown. Are you still afraid of the dark? It’s because you can’t see anything. It’s like swimming in the middle of the ocean without knowing what lurks in the depths. For them, it’s the same. When they see me, they’re just afraid. But if you wanted, you could try to convince them they don’t need to be."

  "Mmmmh... I know!" she suddenly cried out, her face lit up by an idea.

  "Yes?"

  "I’m going to tell everyone not to be afraid anymore. I’ll explain that you’re the best of papas, and they’ll understand!"

  Tanashi let out a small, muffled laugh a rare and almost human sound. He stepped closer and tenderly stroked Hina’s head, ruffling her hair with infinite affection.

  Meanwhile, on the other side of the thin closet wall, I was living a nightmare.

  I was trussed up on a chair, the ropes biting into my arms in total darkness. A blindfold burned my eyes, and a thick cloth gag kept me from even screaming my rage. I was right there, two meters away from them, reduced to the state of a shameful secret hidden behind a pile of old sheets.

  Hearing that monster speak of the "fear of the unknown" while he treated me like a slaughterhouse animal made me want to retch. He wasn't just a burned man; he was a liar capable of stroking his daughter's hair with one hand and crushing a man with the other.

  He had knocked me out with a single blow. A dry, precise impact. After that, total darkness. I must have spent the entire night in this house, for my limbs were stiff and my chin throbbed with a dull pain at every heartbeat.

  Suddenly, voices filtered through the closet wood.

  "Alright, Hina, off to school with you," Tanashi’s voice said.

  "YES!"

  I heard her small, hurried footsteps running down the hallway. A few seconds later, her father’s voice returned, deeper:

  "Be very careful. Don’t forget all the rules I gave you."

  "Yeeeees, I know!"

  CLICK.

  The sound of the door closing locked my fate. Silence returned all at once heavy, oppressive. Then, the footsteps started again. But these weren't the light steps of a ten-year-old child. These were slow, heavy, methodical steps. They were moving toward me. Each creak of the floorboards sounded like a death knell. Hina was gone, and with her, the only thing that made Tanashi human.

  Tanashi approached, his face still masked by his motionless bandages. He pulled out a bundle of yellowed photos and began laying them out on a small table, right under the bare bulb.

  "Look at them closely, Kenji."

  He pointed to the first image. A girl who looked as if she ruled her world. YUKI: Straight black hair, a cold brown gaze that looked down on you, and a thin gold bracelet on her wrist that reeked of money. She looked like a queen whose orders no one dared to question.

  Then, he slid a photo of a boy with a forced laugh.

  RYO: An unremarkable face, pimples poorly hidden under a brown fringe. He looked like he wanted to disappear into his oversized uniform sleeves.

  Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

  Next came a girl with an angelic smile, but whose eyes never smiled back.

  MAI: Round cheeks and cute ribbons in her chestnut hair. You’d trust her with your soul, but her squinted eyes betrayed pure malice.

  Tanashi heavily placed the next photo. A colossus with a vacant stare.

  KENTA: A square jaw, hair glistening with gel, and an unbuttoned shirt. He chewed gum, staring at the lens as if looking for someone to break.

  Then, a girl with makeup too heavy for her age.

  SAKI: Bleached blonde hair with visible roots and lips painted raspberry red. She looked like she was searching for attention she never found.

  Finally, he laid the last photo. A boy with metal-rimmed glasses, looking contemptuous behind a book.

  TAKUMI: A black fringe cutting across his forehead and a uniform buttoned to the chin. Intelligence seeped from every pore, as did his cynicism.

  The silence fell back over the closet, troubled only by my wheezing breath through the gag. These six faces stared at me. Kids. Just high schoolers from another era.

  Don't tell me he's a pedophile... I thought, my throat tight with disgust. What does a man capable of melting metal want with these kids?

  Tanashi seemed to read my thoughts. He placed his gloved hand on Yuki’s photo, and I saw the leather strain under the pressure of his fingers.

  "I want you to tell me where they are hiding today, Kenji. Tell me what they have become."

  He ripped the gag away with a sharp tug. Air rushed into my lungs, but words collided in my throat, heavy with confusion.

  "How do you expect me to find them?!" I shouted, my voice hoarse.

  "You want me to help you hunt these people down? Why them? And how am I supposed to do anything if I’m stuck here?"

  Tanashi didn't answer. He stood there, motionless, but I saw his fists clench with inhuman strength. The tension in his shoulders was frightening. Panicked, I writhed in my chair, the ropes still sawing into my wrists.

  "Okay! Okay! I’ll help you, I promise! But at least tell me... why?"

  "Why?" he repeated, his voice sounding as if it came from the depths of a furnace. "They are wolves who hunt at night, where no one looks. Parasites disguised as citizens. Back then, they found a prey: a person who simply wanted to live with her daughter. But today... she is no longer here because of them."

  He squeezed his fists so hard the leather of his gloves began to smolder, releasing wisps of black smoke. I swallowed hard, my heart in my throat. Then, he seemed to regain control. He placed the photos on my knees before bringing his bare hands toward my bindings. I closed my eyes, screaming internally, expecting to feel my skin sizzle. I felt an unbearable heat brush against my face, the dull sound of rapid combustion...

  And then, nothing.

  I opened one eyelid. The ropes were nothing more than streaks of gray ash scattered on the floor. But my clothes were untouched. My skin bore no mark. It was physically impossible: he had burned the obstacle without touching the man. I felt my arms, my legs, still in shock from this supernatural experience. To burn without being burned.

  Tanashi turned his back to me and stepped out of the closet with a heavy stride.

  "Pick up the photos and come eat," he called out without looking back. "You must be hungry. I’m going to explain exactly what you’ll have to do next."

  I stood up from the chair, my legs shaking, and gathered the photos. A slimy unease rose in my throat. In the kitchen, he had prepared a tray for me: grilled salmon, steaming white rice, and a small bowl of sauce.

  It was surreal. My kidnapper—the man who had melted my handcuffs with a glance was cooking for me. My stomach screamed with hunger, but my brain screamed danger. I sat in silence, the scent of the fish tickling my nostrils, while he sat across from me.

  "Go on, eat," he ordered.

  My instinct screamed at me not to touch the food. Who eats a meal prepared by their executioner? The unease was at its peak. I gripped the chopsticks, hands trembling, praying it wasn't poisoned. Just as I was about to take a bite, he spoke again:

  "I’m going to let you out. On one condition."

  The chopsticks slipped from my hands and clattered against the bowl.

  "What?"

  "You heard me. Eat quickly, and we will leave."

  I sat stunned. He planned to come with me? How could I believe in any kind of "freedom" if he followed me like a shadow of tar and fire?

  "If you try anything out there, if you make one wrong move... I will burn your face off. No one will ever be able to recognize you again, Kenji. Not even your own mother."

  I swallowed with difficulty. His words were razor blades. I picked up my chopsticks again and finally tasted the salmon. It was good horribly good. But every flavor mixed with the metallic taste of fear.

  I ate at top speed, the rice feeling dry under the weight of the tension. I wanted to be done with this condemned man’s meal as fast as possible. But Tanashi wasn't finished distilling his venom.

  "The people you saw in those photos... today, they are all between twenty-seven and twenty-eight years old," he said in a monotone voice.

  I forced down a mouthful, feeling his gaze weigh on me through his layers of linen.

  "I figured as much," I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral. "I already guessed from the paper quality and their styles. What else?"

  A heavy silence settled in. He seemed to weigh his words, or perhaps he was savoring the anxiety rising within me.

  "...I will tell you the rest when we are on-site. I want you to see their true nature with your own eyes."

  I stopped dead, chopsticks in mid-air. "Their true nature." That phrase echoed in the kitchen like a sentence. This wasn't just an arrest he was planning; it was a confrontation. A visceral sense of dread twisted my stomach, far more violently than hunger ever could.

  By accepting this deal, I wasn't just helping a man find old classmates. I was agreeing to dive headfirst into an abyss of darkness that my badge had never dared to light.