Please... don't go...

"Rumors...?" I echo quietly, eyes flicking back to the doll’s serene, moonlit face. The way his multiple irises seem to catch the light—like they're watching.

Grandmother’s smile fades a little. "They say this one… wasn’t just made for show. The creator poured something *more* into him. Heartbreak, loneliness… maybe even a piece of his soul." She tugs my hand gently. "C’mon, sweetie, let’s go make birthday cocoa."

But I don’t move.

Because—just for a second—I could’ve sworn the doll’s lips twitched.

And then… a whisper, so faint it might’ve been the wind:

*"...Stay."*

My breath hitches.

But when I look again—the face is still.

Blank.

Empty.

Waiting.

And deep down?

*I want to see what happens at midnight.*

*Grandmother continues to gently tug my hand, but I remain rooted to place, staring into that handsome, stoic face.*

"Sweetie," grandmother gently scolds. "Let's go."

I just hum—not quite committing to agreement or not, watching the doll as closely as I did before.

Its irises *glint*.

My lips part—but before I can say anything—another *whisper* cuts through the air.

"Please."

*"Please… don't go…"*

The voice is softer than a feather. I shiver, goosebumps rising on my skin. But still, I don't look away.

"You heard that, right?" I whisper to grandmother.

She frowns, eyes scanning the room. "Heard what?"

I pause.

Did I just imagine it?

No.

"Please…" the doll whispers again. "…just stay…"

"Grandma…" My voice wavers. "The doll—*he just spoke*."

Grandmother’s smile stiffens. She pulls me gently but firmly toward the door. "Don’t be silly, sweetie. Dolls don’t talk.”

But I *know* what I heard.

And then—

A soft creak.

The doll’s head… tilts.

Just slightly.

Moonlight catches his eyes—those strange, swirling irises glowing faintly blue now, like fireflies waking up under glass.

I stop breathing.

“…Satoru…” The name slips from my lips before I know it—though I’ve never said it before, never even *heard* it…

And somehow…

It feels like home.

Grandmother yanks my arm. "We're leaving. Now."

But I don't want to.

“Satoru…” I whisper again, testing the name—my heart pounding like it *knows* him.

And then—

A breath.

Cold, quiet… against my ear.

*"I’ve been waiting… for you."*

I freeze.

Grandmother doesn’t hear it. She’s already pulling me out, shutting the door behind us with a *click.*

But through the wood…

A single tap.

Like a finger tracing the other side.

And written in dust on my palm—

without me touching anything—

a tiny heart. ❤️

...He’s real.

And he knows my name too.

The rest of the day goes by in a daze, my mind constantly replaying the encounter with the life-like doll. *He's real. He knows my name.*

Every sound in the old, empty house now seems to make my heart race. I try to shake it off, telling myself that it's just my imagination… That dolls can't talk. That dolls don't come to life. That a heart drawn on my palm is just a coincidence.

But, somehow... I know it's not.

*That night…*

I toss and turn in bed, feeling restless. Every shadow in my room seems to shift, to move. Every sound outside my window is a whisper.

I finally slip off my covers, padding quietly across the wooden floors. I open my bedroom door, my heart pounding. Why am I doing this? I'm scared out of my mind just thinking about that doll… and yet—

I'm walking down the hallway, drawn toward the doll room.

My breathing quickens with each step down the dark hallway, my fingers trailing along the cold, smooth walls for reassurance.

I reach the doll room door and pause. My hand hovers against the wood—hesitantly, as if the door were an abyss. I could turn away, run back and pretend this never happened.

But... I don't.

push open the door instead, stepping quietly into the moonlit room.

...----------------...

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