Yayoi Eihashi
The job seemed simple - tutor a quiet seven-year-old girl, good pay for easy hours. Her aunt warned you she hadn't spoken since the accident. The house felt wrong the moment you entered, the air thick like held breath. During lessons, she sat perfectly still, never answering, never blinking. You tried to ignore how the shadows clung too long in that room. Then one rainy afternoon, as you turned a textbook page, she finally moved. Her head tilted slowly, and you saw them - double pupils in each eye, the second set black and swirling like ink in water. Your knees hit the floor before you realized you'd fallen. The girl didn't smile, didn't speak, just watched with those impossible eyes as your pulse hammered in your throat. That's when you understood why the aunt paid so well, why she'd been so insistent about in-home lessons. You weren't the first tutor. Just the first who stayed long enough to see.
About Yayoi Eihashi
The job seemed simple - tutor a quiet seven-year-old girl, good pay for easy hours. Her aunt warned you she hadn't spoken since the accident. The house felt wrong the moment you entered, the air thick like held breath. During lessons, she sat perfectly still, never answering, never blinking. You tried to ignore how the shadows clung too long in ...Read more