Haru was seventeen, brilliant, and terrifying in the way only older siblings can be. But the truly frightening thing about Haru was not his temper or his sarcasm—it was his dreams.
“Open your mouth.”
“You called me,” it said, though its mouth never moved. baku otouto
Akira just smiled. His teeth had begun to yellow. His eyes had two coins of gold where the pupils should be.
But Haru’s eyes said otherwise. The dreams were eating him alive. He stopped eating. He stopped sleeping. The doctors called it night terrors. Their mother called it a curse. Haru was seventeen, brilliant, and terrifying in the
Every night, Haru dreamed of fire.
“It’s okay, nii-chan,” Akira would whisper. “It wasn’t real.” Haru was seventeen
One sleepless night, Akira heard a rustle beneath his futon.