Synopsis
The sleepy streets around Midnight Record, an old vinyl shop in the forgotten ward of Naraku-town, don’t see much daylight. Seventeen-year-old Daigo Kisaragi drifts through those alleys each night since his dad vanished, hoping to spot a clue—or at least hear something weird enough to remember. He thinks most people can’t sense what’s out there. But what about you? Would you keep digging if nobody believed?
The arc begins as Daigo’s routine is shattered when reels of tape rewind during his late shift, playing voices not recorded anywhere. Shira, short rookie detective, bumps into him at closing. A cop who collects supernatural case tips like gossip, she’s heard stories about the Kisaragi family and lost people caught between this world and the next. She thinks Daigo’s hiding more than cracked records. One tape in the back room blares his dad’s favorite tune, overlaid with static whispers. Daigo freezes. “Why now?” he asks. Shira fixes him with her flat look: “Did you call it or did it find you?”
At school, Daigo finds notes in his books—talking in riddles about rites, memory, and songs stuck on endless repeat. Rika, Daigo’s only friend who codes urban legends online, starts to notice his nerves. Torchlight group calls and whispers in rain. She wonders if Daigo’s breakdown is near, but half wants to see if the ghost rumors hold up. “If a ghost called you, would you pick up?” she texts. Daigo just types, “Maybe. Maybe I’m already listening.” Has he lost it, chasing his father’s ghost?
That evening, Daigo and Shira try playing the record again. The shop lights snap off. Windows ice with frost, though summer pushes sweaty days outside. Faint harmonies pool over every wall. Then shapes slip through dust, whispering a chorus only he can make out: “Bring her home. Complete the circle.” Light flickers. Shira pins Daigo’s wrist, demanding clear answers. But his voice falters. There’s a woman’s figure past the racks—a shape out of old records. The air cracks with two melodies at war.
Everything spirals: locked doors, warped shelves, haunted phone calls coming in with no ID—the ghost’s messages shift each time. Rika, risking her sanity or just out of curiosity, loops Daigo in for a midnight codebreaking session. She figures out hidden dates within the ghost tracks. Was the midnight visitor his lost mother, bound to the shop by unfinished business? Did Daigo’s father break a motif holding them together?
Shira draws out more than her badge; the demon-folk in this city sometimes bleed into cases not even she can close. “You going to run or listen?” she asks as layers of voices overlap again. Rika unlocks one last puzzle: the lullaby that finally severs or heals the wound.
I have to ask—when a dead relative sings to you in the dark, do you tune them out? Or join in?
The arc cuts to credits on a literal cliffhanger: Daigo faces the flickering figure, shop in chaos, as the tape howls a final demand. Will he seal their fate or break the curse?
