Can't We Skip Dating?

What brought Utaha back to consciousness was the searing heat in her hand.

She snapped her eyes open and found herself in the Spencer family's living room.

The burning sensation came from the ofuda that Akira had given her, now glowing faintly.

Because she had been tense all along, constantly reminding herself how important the ofuda was, she had kept a firm grip on it, which was why, even when it became hot, she didn't instinctively let go.

There was still a vague impression in her mind. It seemed like she had wandered here in a daze. 

Her stiff posture also suggested that she had walked here herself.

What happened? How could she have fallen asleep or sleep walked under such circumstances?

Bang!

A sudden noise shattered the silence and made Utaha jump. She turned toward the sound and saw the main door, now tightly shut.

If this were a horror movie, that door would probably be impossible to open.

She scanned the empty living room, then slowly backed away on trembling legs, finally pressing herself against the door and trying the handle.

Sure enough, it wouldn't open.

Behind her was the direction most feared, and in front of her was the unknown. 

Since she had walked in under such eerie circumstances, trying to find a way out now seemed nearly impossible.

Utaha didn't dare go anywhere. Instead, she slid along the wall, inch by inch, until she reached a corner, where she could keep everything within her line of sight.

This also meant there was no way to retreat. But reason told her that this was the better choice.

After all, this wasn't a wide open space. 

Her stamina was relatively poor, and rather than running around like a headless chicken, it was better to stay in the most advantageous spot and rely on the only weapon she had.

The ofuda in her hand had cooled slightly. 

Its glow had also faded, but it still radiated a warmth that clearly didn't belong in the room, much more distinct than the surrounding cold.

Then came the sound of water dripping upstairs.

In that moment where time felt stretched, the dripping grew clearer and clearer, drawing closer to directly above her.

And with the sound came a nauseating scent of iron—rusty, metallic blood.

Utaha looked up and vaguely saw a human face on the ceiling above her—smiling.

She stared back tensely at the face-like thing above. 

She didn't flee—not only because her legs were too weak to move, but also because she knew staying calm was the smarter option.

Better to keep her eyes on the source of danger and prepare to strike with her charm than to stumble around blindly in the dark and risk a surprise attack.

As the dripping sound became even more pronounced, a single drop of liquid finally fell from the face above. 

She instinctively raised her hand to shield herself—but the droplet vanished in midair, as if it had evaporated before reaching her.

It looked red—but it never hit the ground.

A second and third drop followed, but they all disappeared about a meter above her head without even making a sound.

Maybe… it wasn't as scary as she imagined?

Summoning her courage, Utaha lifted the ofuda in her hand. As she did, the face on the ceiling slowly faded back into the darkness.

Was it over?

She had just begun to feel relieved when a loud thud echoed from upstairs, followed by part of the ceiling collapsing. 

A crater-like mark appeared, as if a giant beast had stomped down. Dust and chunks of debris rained from above.

Her rational mind told her this shouldn't be possible. If something had really struck with such force, the ceiling should've cracked, not left a footprint-shaped dent. 

But that instinctive fear triggered by a collapsing roof made her want to flee.

More heavy footsteps echoed overhead. More prints. More debris fell.

Except—none of it hit her.

No, it wasn't that the debris missed her. It was just like the blood droplets and smoke—it vanished into thin air as it neared her.

But if the ceiling really came down, it wouldn't disappear so easily, would it?

Utaha kept her back against the wall and cautiously edged toward the door. She had barely moved a few steps when—

Plop!

A blood-red footprint appeared right in front of her.

The sickening scent of blood in the air grew stronger. The footprint blurred and began to seep outward, as if bleeding in all directions.

Then came a second soft plop, even closer to her.

A bolt of lightning suddenly split the sky outside, casting a pale white light into the house. In that fleeting brightness, Utaha saw it clearly:

A humanoid figure, upright, drenched in blood, was walking toward her with an outstretched hand.

As the lightning faded, so did the vision—but the horrifying image of that shadow remained etched in her retina.

Finally, she couldn't hold it in anymore—she screamed.

At moments of extreme terror, people typically respond in one of three ways: run in blind panic, collapse in helpless fright, or, in her case—hysterical resistance.

Still screaming, Utaha took a step forward. Fueled by the afterimage burned into her vision, she hurled the ofuda at it with all her strength.

BOOM—

Something seemed to have been hit.

The ofuda instantly turned scorching hot in her hand. After a split second delay, it erupted in a blinding flash of light and let out a thunderous explosion.

The intense heat and brightness overwhelmed her senses. She dropped the charm and shut her eyes, stumbling backward until her back slammed into the wall.

The impact made her legs give out, and she collapsed to the ground. But the rush of adrenaline and her clear-headedness gave her enough strength to keep moving.

One hand on the floor, the other fumbling in her pocket for the remaining two charms, she struggled to open her stinging eyes—trying to face the blinding light head-on.

Something felt off.

As her eyes slowly adjusted and she wiped away the excess tears, she realized—

This light wasn't coming from the charm at all.

It was from the grand crystal chandelier in the living room ceiling.

The power was back on… or rather, the supernatural disturbance had ended?

There were no bloodstained footprints or debris on the floor. No face or beast-like prints on the ceiling. 

Aside from the absence of people, this looked exactly like the Spencer household she'd seen before.

One charm lay on the floor, but its once elegant lines and vibrant colors had dulled to an ashen gray.

Was it really over?

Heart pounding, Utaha leaned on the wall and struggled to her feet. Even if the danger was gone, she didn't want to stay in this house a second longer.

The door should open now, right?

She thought this as she took one shaky step at a time toward it. 

She pressed the handle, heard a faint click, and finally relaxed. Using her body weight, she pushed the door open.

Her gaze, lowered from her hunched posture, landed on a pair of legs—just half a meter away.

"Ah—!"

She let out another scream, squeezed her eyes shut, and slapped the charm in her hand forward with all her strength.

Nothing happened.

No flash. No heat.

Something wasn't right.

Utaha cautiously opened one eye—and realized that pair of legs looked… familiar.

Then she heard a voice from just above her head.

"Good evening, Miss Kasumigaoka. Disobedient as always. Were you trying to kill me with my own charm?"

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