by Krojfrau
Aoi didn’t always see it. It started subtly—almost like a trick of perception. A fleeting sense of wrongness in people around him. Then came the distortions: empty gazes, unnatural smiles, faces that seemed to slip slightly out of alignment with reality itself. These changes appear when something inside a person finally breaks. At first, Aoi thought he was imagining things. Stress. Fatigue. Anything rational. But the distortions didn’t stop. In fact, they grew clearer. In his city, people continue living normally—talking, laughing, pretending nothing is wrong—while something quietly fractures beneath their expressions. And Aoi, now unable to unsee it, becomes an unwilling observer of a hidden psychological decay no one else acknowledges. But as the distortions intensify and begin to spill beyond individuals into the space around them, Aoi is forced to confront a terrifying question: Why did he start seeing this… and why does it feel like it started because of him? The more he tries to understand the phenomenon, the more it seems to respond to his attention—like reality itself is adjusting to his perception. As if the distortions are not just revealing broken minds…but reacting to the one who sees them.
