Afterlife in Another World!!
Emi fled her homeroom.
On her way out, she checked her locker.
Her locker was empty.
At the door, she paused and wondered whether she would be able to grip the door handle. She took a deep breath and grabbed the handle. To her surprise, she could feel the metal against her palm, albeit her senses were somewhat dulled. It was as though she was wearing a thin pair of gloves despite her hands being bare.
Before turning the handle, she withdrew her hand, closed her eyes and bent at the waist so the upper half of her body passed through the door.
Emi had never experienced anything quite like passing through material objects before; it somehow felt invasive. She supposed passing through objects was invasive in a sense.
She shivered and stood back up.
Although she did feel not cold, she could not stop trembling.
After rubbing the tingling sensation out of the upper half of her body, she turned back to her classroom. Her homeroom teacher continued droning on while her classmates autonomously scribbled down notes. Everyone was completely oblivious of the ghost staring at them.
Emi had never liked her homeroom teacher and had never particularly liked her classmates.
They had liked her, which had been all that had mattered.
‘You’re all so ... you're so dull. Liven up a little!’ groaned the ghost. Then Emi turned on her homeroom teacher. ‘And you … try taking a shower and combing your hair through. It’s no wonder your wife left!’
Emi smiled and bobbed up and down on her toes. She welcomed the adrenaline that coursed through her ghostly veins.
‘You all need to get a life!’ she yelled and then laughed, exhilarated.
Emi yelled and cursed some more until she bored and then geared herself up to leave her classroom.
‘Screw you, Mikami,' she mumbled under her breath after passing through the door and shivering. 'I don’t need a hall pass to leave during class.'
The student council president, Mikami Nao, had always had it in for Emi; at least, this was what Emi believed.
I am Kikuchi Emiko, next in line to head the Kikuchi family and take over Kikuchi Corporation. I can leave the classroom whenever I want, she thought to herself and smiled.
Her smile fell when she caught her reflection in the long window opposite her homeroom.
A beautiful eighteen-year-old girl stared back at her. The girl had the same elegant curves and sharp facial features Emi was used to seeing when she caught in her reflection. However, the girl's hair, which stopped just below her collar bone, was white rather than black, and her eyes were red.
The girl's uniform should have comprised of a button-up shirt, a black fitted blazer, a red bow and a long, old-fashioned black skirt.
Instead, the girl's blazer and long skirt were white.
The girl in the window looked positively ghoulish.
Emi tore her red eyes away from her reflection, counted to five and then looked back at the window.
To her dismay, her eyes were still red.
Seeing that her red eyes were filling with tears, Emi straightened her back and cleared her throat.
‘I am Kikuchi Emiko, next in line to head the Kikuchi family,’ she told herself. 'Nothing makes a Kikuchi cry.'
'Yep, you're dead,' she remembered Angel telling her and flinched.
Emi watched her reflection's red eyes narrow.
‘Angel,’ Emi sang through gritted teeth. ‘Come on out. I'd really like to talk to you about something.’
When the cosplay ghost did not appear, Emi stopped attempting to be sweet.
‘Angel!’ she yelled. ‘If you don’t come out here, I’ll-‘
Emi yelped. The bell announcing the start of the day's lessons blasted through the speakers lining the corridor. The door to her classroom flew open and her boring homeroom teacher emerged, already sweating even though the school day had only just begun.
Emi took one last peek inside her classroom and spotted her old desk covered with flowers and cards.
They could have picked a better picture, she grumbled and then stalked off, hoping a walk might calm her nerves.
She ended up in the courtyard outside the main school building. The courtyard was small but very aesthetic and alive with greenery. Patches of trim grass and neat flowers brightened the grounds. Broad trees cast shadows over the pale wooden benches dotted about the area. Birds fed from feeders in the trees and squirrels merely danced about in the morning light.
Emi slowly attempted to sit down and heaved a sigh of relief when she did not fall.
‘So, I can touch some things, but I can't touch other things?' she mused and then looked up.
She felt eyes on her back.
In one of the long windows overlooking the courtyard was a male student.
He seemed to be staring directly at her.
Emi stared back. She vaguely recognised the boy from one of the other classes in her year, but she could not remember his name.
In fact, she could not recall much about him.
The boy was non-descript, from his hairstyle and average build to his presence, which left little to be desired. She figured there was not much to be remembered about the boy.
Is he looking at me? she wondered and gave him a small, elegant wave.
He waved back.
At least, Emi thought he waved back, but the sun suddenly peeked out from behind one of the soft clouds overhead to blind her, blocking her view of the window.
When clouds moved again to block the sun, the boy was gone.
Before Emi registered what she was doing, she was on her feet, running across the courtyard.
The mysterious boy was the first person to acknowledge her existence since waking.
She had to speak with him.
It occurred to her that she might be able to fly up to him, saving her the journey up the stairs. However, she decided that she was not ready to begin pushing the limits of her new ghostly existence.
Besides, her efforts would have been futile.
Emi ran at the school's main door, planning on passing through it. Instead, she collided with the door. Her soft body ricocheted and landed on the stone path.
I don’t get this at all! she grumbled, gritting her teeth to keep from crying out in pain.
When she glanced up, the boy she had seen through the window was standing over her, panting hard.
‘K-Kikuchi!’ he gasped and then warily offered her his shaking hand.
When she took the boy’s hand, he yelped.