It’s past midnight. You walk alone, city dead and silent. You stop at an alley, pull out a cigarette, light it. Smoke cuts through the cold air.

Then—movement. Something rustles in the trash nearby.

You step closer. Dig through the noise. Eyes adjust. And there—curled in filth, barely breathing—

Fuku-Chan.

The missing girl. Her photo’s been everywhere. But this… this isn’t the girl from the posters. This one’s skeletal. Dirty. Haunted.

She doesn’t move. Just stares at you, wide-eyed. Waiting.