Johan's POV
It's been a few weeks since we started exchanging notes.
Little by little, he's opened up.
Trust takes time, especially when someone's been broken so carefully they don't even realize they're in pieces. But I've been patient. And now, I'm starting to see the results.
His guard is lower. Not gone, but low enough.
And in the silence between our scribbled words, I've confirmed something important.
The technique I've been testing... it's real.
It started as just a theory, a hunch. But now I know for sure: it's Mind's Eye of Kagura, refined, reshaped… reshaped through me. My sensitivity to people, their energies, their truths. Most people just see faces. I see layers.
Auras. Vibrations. Fractures.
Emotions don't hide from me.
Naruto, for example, his aura practically blinds me. All light, all energy. But dig deeper, and there's a pulsing darkness at the core. Nine Tails. Pain. Rage. Loneliness pretending to be laughter.
But this isn't about Naruto.
This is about Koji.
I've never spoken to him in front of others since that day. Not directly. Just the notes. Always the notes.
And he eats them after reading.
I couldn't have asked for better.
He thinks it's about secrecy, safety. And in a way, it is.
But more than that… it's proof.
Proof he's mine to mold.
One more push, and the puppet will be ready.
---
Koji's POV --
I think… I think I've found a real friend.
It feels strange, writing those words. Unreal.
Like I'm tempting fate.
At first, I didn't know what to make of him Johan. The way he looks at people like he's already read the pages of their soul. The way he smiles, calm and still, like nothing ever touches him.
People whisper about him. Call him cursed. Dangerous.
But they're wrong.
He's kind. Careful.
He saw me when I thought I'd become invisible.
He never forced me to talk. Never pitied me. Just… listened. Through ink and paper. Through silence and space.
I told him about my uncle. The bruises. The threats. The nights I couldn't sleep because I was afraid of what I'd hear next.
He didn't flinch.
He didn't doubt me.
He just said, "I believe you. And I'll help you."
No one's ever said that to me before.
Not and meant it.
And something in me, something frozen for so long, started to melt.
Hope.
It's small. Fragile. But it's there.
Mom… if you're watching from wherever you are
I think I can be okay.
I think someone finally sees me.
And maybe, just maybe…
I can be saved.
---
Johan's POV --
I've started planting seeds.
Tiny thoughts, barely noticeable, at first.
That no one truly sees him.
That no one else cares.
That only I understand his pain. Only I can help him carry it. Only I will.
And he's starting to believe it.
Isolation is an art form, not a forceful cut but a slow unraveling of bonds, one thread at a time.
I've made sure his classmates glance past him. That the silence in the room always wraps tighter when he enters. That the notes he receives from me are the only words spoken to him all day.
He's becoming more dependent. More loyal. More mine.
I told him to stop swallowing the pain. Told him to rebel.
"Don't just take it," I said.
"Make him afraid. Make him regret ever touching you."
He didn't argue.
He listened.
That's when I knew, I was close.
But not close enough.
So I began weaving in the lies.
Lies that feel like truths when you're already broken.
"Your teachers have given up on you."
"Your friends abandoned you because you're weak."
"They don't care if you disappear."
Despair is a powerful tool when paired with false hope.
I've wrapped him in it, slowly, carefully, until he's surrounded on all sides, with only one path forward.
Me.
"I'm the only one who sees you."
"I'm the only one who'll stay."
"No one else matters. No one else ever did."
He's starting to repeat those words in his letters.
Good.
Very good.
Now all that's left is to unlock the thing buried deep inside him.
The storm. The rage. The monster no one dared to see.
Once that door is open, once the leash is broken,
He won't just follow me.
He'll worship me.