Lab Scene: The Stealthy Eye
Inside a half-lit laboratory, innumerable monitors flickered with data, yet only a single screen had Doctor Hiroshi's attention. In front of him was the chess telecast showing Ren's final play—checkmate.
Hiroshi reclined, eyes glistening in the glow of the monitor. Something had caught his attention.
Something rare.
The steady tempo of his drumming fingers added onto his thinking. Ren Hayashi.
A high school student yet gifted with such an extraordinary mind. The way Ren had turned the match around—that composure, that clarity under pressure. Skill was a mere insult to that far beyond what human instinct could even comprehend.
Hiroshi smirked.
"Wonderful. That level of cognition… It is just not human."
His darkened gaze turned away from the broadcast as it went off.
"Perhaps... he will fit."
The screens flickered behind him, casting the names of test subjects. Rows of names, tables, and numbers… Until Hiroshi's fingers hovered over a blank space.
A slow smile stretched across his face.
"Welcome to my world, Ren Hayashi."
And with that, he typed Ren's name into the system.
A new test subject had been chosen.
Home Scene: The Absence of the Artist
Aoi sat on her desk, the soft glow of her bedside lamp casting gentle shadows over her sketchbook.
Not a single page had been turned in the last ten minutes.
Holding the pencil loosely, Aoi's mind seemed very far away.
Unsettled since the end of the chess match, what was it that had bothered her?
Aoi had seen people play chess before. Matches had streamed casually on TV for her. But with Ren…
The way he moved. The screen was filled with his quiet intensity. That moment he leaned forward; his piercing stare lost in deep contemplation on the board.
Her heart stirred again. Who was this feeling for?
Her fingers seemed to develop a mind of their own.
Gradually, her pencil began to move.
Firstly, a contour of his face. A prominent jawline, smooth but sharp. The way his ebony hair fell slightly into his forehead during deep concentration.
Then, his eyes.
She hesitated, staring at the vacant page.
Ren's eyes… They were different. Unusually piercing, yet distant. A quiet storm filled with puzzling thoughts.
A soft sigh escaped Aoi's lips.
Her hand moved to spoon in the shading around his eyes, capturing the way his gaze darkened with concentration.
She continued on—shaping the slight arc of his brow while calculating a move, the gentle curve of his lips as he spoke one word.
Witness this; the details, the emotions, inscribed for all eternity.
Minutes became an hour.
Aoi finally put down her pencil and stared at the drawing.
Ren Hayashi.
Not merely a chess player. Not merely a schoolmate.
This was beyond.
A tightening in Aoi's chest.
Aoi gently traced her fingers across the finished drawing, her breath coming in shudders. There was an image of Ren looking back at her: mute, unmoving, so lifelike that he could practically step off the page.
Something began to gnaw at her.
She was staring at every detail:
his hand above the chessboard, the dark messy strands of hair, deep shadows across his face...
Wait.
Her fingers froze.
There, at the corner of the sketch, half-hidden below smudges of graphite, was a figure.
A shadowy outline just behind Ren.
Aoi's heart raced. She hadn't remembered drawing it.
She leaned still closer, the low light casting a soft halo over the page. The figure was only an ill-defined suggestion of a person; there was a fuzzy, blurry edge like a half-formed ghost... or a figure watching from a distance.
Her fingers curled tightly around the sketchbook.
Was it an accident? An inadvertent mark?
Or had she seen something... it just wasn't supposed to be there?
A long, chill lingered at the back of her neck.
Slowly, she closed the sketchbook.
But even with her eyes shut, that shadow seared itself into her memory.