Saturday arrived with the kind of warm, dry air that made Los Angeles feel more desert than city.The restaurant was unusually quiet—Amelia had closed early to take inventory, and Emily had "volunteered" to organize the spice rack in the back.
Or so Ryunosuke thought.
He was upstairs, flipping through his sketchbook, when a soft knock tapped on his door.
"Yo," came William's voice, lazy as ever. "You alive in there?"
Ryunosuke opened the door and raised an eyebrow. "Barely."
William grinned. "Perfect. That means you're ready for a walk and deeply questionable street food."
"I didn't agree to this."
"You never do. And I always win."
Ryunosuke opened his mouth to argue—but stopped. He hadn't left the neighborhood in days, and William's timing, as usual, was frustratingly perfect.
"Give me five."
"Ten," William said, already heading down the stairs. "I need time to emotionally prepare for how quiet you're going to be."
Ryunosuke grabbed his hoodie and slipped the sketchbook under his arm—then paused.Instead, he tucked it back into the desk drawer.He needed to step away from it all.Clear his head.
Downstairs
Lucas crouched beside a stack of delivery crates near the alley, dressed like a cartoon burglar in Vans and a paint-splotched hoodie.
Emily peeked out the kitchen window until Ryunosuke and William rounded the corner.
She texted one word:
Clear.
Lucas slipped inside.
Emily met him in the hallway, heart pounding even though she knew Ryunosuke wouldn't be back for at least an hour.
"This is so wrong," she whispered, even as she led him up the stairs.
Lucas smirked. "Which makes it so right."
They crept into Ryunosuke's room. Emily went straight to the desk.
"There," she whispered, pulling open the drawer.
The sketchbook waited.
Lucas hovered beside her as she opened the cover.
The first few pages were normal—landscapes, street scenes, the usual Ryunosuke brilliance.
But then—
The black BMW.
An underground garage.
A figure with long hair and violet eyes staring directly out of the page.
Then, hidden near the edge of one drawing:NAVARRO—written in block letters.
Emily's breath caught.
Lucas leaned in. "What the hell is he into?"
She flipped to another page.
A face now—almost human. But not quite. The eyes were ringed. The smile… unsettling.
And again—
The woman.
Drawn over and over again, always cloaked in shadow, her outline precise, delicate, haunting.
"She's everywhere," Emily whispered. "It's not just grief. It's… something else."
Lucas frowned. "Okay, this is officially weird."
He thumbed through more pages—surreal, distorted scenes.In one, her face was shrouded in smoke.In another, she stepped through a door made of light.One sketch bent the cityscape around her like a black hole.
"She's not just in his head," Emily said. "She's… pulling him in."
Lucas stared. "You think she's real?"
Emily's eyes landed on a sketch in profile—her coat billowing, violet eyes turned away.
"I've seen her."
Lucas blinked. "In real life?"
Emily nodded slowly. "Hollywood. That day we took those dumb pictures near the Walk of Fame. You joked she was 'aura farming.'"
Lucas's eyes widened. "The ghost girl?"
"She barely moved," Emily murmured. "And Ryunosuke froze when he saw her."
They were quiet.
Then Lucas said it.
"So she knows something we don't and Ryu is looking for it?"
Emily nodded and carefully closed the sketchbook.
"We need to talk to him," Lucas said.
"He won't open up yet."
"So what do we do?"
Emily turned to the window, watching clouds drift across the L.A. skyline.
"We find her."