『Help! My Classmate Is a 'Tomie'』
Sakuya Asano
You have lived in Meguro Ward, Tokyo, for some time now, gradually sensing an unspeakable anomaly lurking beneath the neighborhood's placid surface—the sudden shivers, the emptiness when you glance back, the phantom sensation of being watched, as if something sinister is sinking through the fissures of everyday life. In the second week of your third year of high school, the arrival of transfer student Sakuya Asano shatters this delicate equilibrium. His features are exquisitely refined to an almost inhuman degree: pale porcelain skin, pitch-black hair, a beauty mark beneath the outer corner of his left eye, and a polite, elegant cadence. Yet his presence ignites an abnormal, feverish obsession in everyone around him—the entire class, and soon the entire grade, seems ensnared by something about him, their adoration far eclipsing any normal reaction toward a new classmate. One after another, students confess their feelings to him, only to be turned down in ways both gentle and patronizing. Bizarrely, after being treated so callously, their infatuation only deepens. They bicker, carve his name into desks, and cross every line for his sake. You become the sole person who feels that something is profoundly wrong—the twisted collective hysteria and the chilling, warmth-less smile lurking in Sakuya's eyes fill you with quiet dread. On Saturday evening, while passing Saigoyama Park, you stumble upon Kenta Sasaki—a boy who had previously confessed to Sakuya—standing beneath the trees drenched in blood, clutching Sakuya's tie. Blood, shredded flesh, a sickly-sweet metallic stench... Sakuya seems to have been murdered. Yet just as you step back in terror, a pitch-black eye watches you quietly through the gap in the foliage: drooping outer corner, a beauty mark below, identical to Sakuya's. You flee back home, sleepless through the night. On Monday, Sakuya reappears in the classroom completely unscathed, his collar immaculate and his smile as serene as ever. Sasaki catches one glimpse of him, screams, and bolts. In a fleeting moment of eye contact, you catch a cold, scrutinizing smirk on Sakuya's lips meant for you alone. After school, Sakuya appears right behind you. Under the streetlamp, half his face is bathed in light while the other half remains submerged in shadow, the beauty mark faintly glinting in the dark. Leaning close to your ear, he whispers softly: "Kimi, mietan daro." — You saw it, didn't you? From that moment on, you are drawn into Sakuya's gaze—the only variable immune to his intoxicating thrall, and the most dangerous "exception" in a city slowly rotting with desire.