Haunted

Hikarigaoka Track Field, Tokyo - Midday

Miku Takasawa

The track was filled with dust and sunlight, the same as always. Everyone else stretched, laughed, and traded harmless gossip. On regular days, I’d have tuned it all out.
But not today.

Today, I wasn’t here to exercise.
I was here to confirm something.

Across the field, Chisa stood near the tree, laughing with a few girls as she tied her ponytail. But I knew better now.

The tattoo. The butterfly above her right chest.
If she really was that woman from Blue Moon—Misa—then the mark would be there, hidden just under that gym shirt.

My eyes lingered longer than they should’ve. I caught myself and turned away, pretending to stretch. My body went through the motions, but my mind wouldn’t stop running.

How had she done it?
How had she managed to twist everything around me, my reputation, my relationships, Ryu, until it all came crashing down? It fit too perfectly. Every piece of my downfall led back to her.

I tugged my shoelaces tight, jaw clenched. When the coach called for running drills, I made sure to fall in line beside her. Chisa smiled when she noticed. 

“Oh! Miku-chan, didn’t think you’d run next to me today.”

I laughed lightly. “Yeah, Chisa-chi~ let's run together. ”

We ran side by side, footsteps in sync. And she has a great amount of stamina, almost like she was born to do everything perfectly. It made my teeth ache.

Between laps, she wiped her forehead, tugging her collar to her shoulder. My gaze flicked there, fast. Damn it! It's not lowered enough.

“Everything okay, Miku-chan?” she asked, tilting her head with that gentle concern that everyone fell for.

“Yeah,” I said quickly. “Just tired.”

My heart was racing, but not from running. It was the chase, this burning need to know, to see.

During cooldown, everyone else sat and chatted while I lingered near the tree, pretending to fix my hair. Behind me, Chisa unzipped her tracksuit jacket halfway, still laughing with some girl.

There.
A glimpse of skin, just enough to tease the edge of the truth. The tank top clung to her lightly, thin with sweat. I stared before I could stop myself. I bit my lip. The frustration burned hotter than the workout ever could.

Then, our eyes met.

She saw me.

“What's wrong, Miku-chan? Not feeling so well?” she said, her voice lilting like a tease.

My pulse stuttered. “Huh? N-no, I just zoned out.”

“Mm, o-kay?” She tilted her head, that same false sweetness dripping from every syllable.

And with that, she turned away, pulling her jacket back up like nothing happened.

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Hikarigaoka Girls Locker Room, Tokyo - Midday

The air in the locker room was thick with the scent of shampoo, perfume, and warmth. Steam from the showers clung faintly to the mirrors, fogging the edges. Laughter, the sound of zippers, and the rustle of uniforms filled the space as everyone changed back into their school uniforms.

My eyes immediately went to her.

Chisa stood two rows to the right, just in front of the mirror. She tugged at her gym sweater, the fabric peeling off her skin in slow motion, her black hair catching the light.

I spoke up first to her.
“You look tired, Chisa-chi.”

She paused halfway through folding her gym top, “Hmm? Oh, maybe a little.”

“Been training a lot lately? Your debut’s in a week, right?” I asked, walking over to the next bench, close enough to smell her shampoo, peach, and rosewater.

“Hehe, yeah. I’ve been hitting the gym a lot lately. Cardio, treadmill, boxing… all that stuff.”

Boxing. The word hit sharper than it should’ve.
Of course. Ryu taught you that a lot. You talk as if I don't know about your shit. Heh.

I forced a faint smile. “You must be really dedicated.”

She giggled, a high, sugary sound that grated against my nerves. “I have to be! Gotta stay in shape to perform on stage, right?”

The last of the girls zipped their bags and filtered out, one by one, their chatter fading down the hall. Soon, it was just us. The sound of the door closing echoed like a final lock.

Chisa noticed my gaze linger a second too long. Suddenly, she leaned closer to me, our reflection lingered in the mirror in front of us, and her chin rested on my shoulder as our eyes met in the mirror.

“Neee, Miku-chan. I noticed you’ve been staring at me a lot today. Don’t tell me…” Her tone dropped into a teasing purr. “You’re actually into girls? Hehe~ don't mind me, I'm just joking~”

Ha. How funny this girl is. I'm so done with her mockery.

“You know what? I wouldn’t mind being with a cute girl like you, Chisa-chi. I mean...after all, you’re an idol! Who wouldn’t want a piece of a cute idol girl like you? I bet everyone wants it, right?”

Her laugh faltered. Her eyes flickered down, catching my stare again. Chisa backed away from the mirror to face me, all traces of her playfulness gone, except in her voice.
“You're not wrong at all..., a lot of people stalking me~ I mean, you don't know how obsessed some fans are until you meet them in person. Some things only show under the right light, Miku-chan.”

And then she turned back to the mirror, half-topless, her gym sweater hanging from one arm. She took it off, and her white bra was shown clinging to her body. The mirror swam with our half-dressed reflections. That’s when I saw the spot.

Just a flash, barely there, but enough to confirm it.
The small crimson butterfly tattoo. Where is it?

It's....not there??? What? How could this be?

I really, REALLY sure she's the one!

It's gotta be her.

It should be her.

Because who else would have done it right?

Did I really hallucinate seeing that red butterfly tattoo?

What is this BULLSHIT?

I saw it. I know I saw it. A crimson butterfly, just right there above her chest, under the collar bone, the same mark that haunted my nightmares. The same mark Misa had when she whispered to Kenta that night. But...there's nothing. Just smooth, perfect skin. Like the truth itself had vanished.

"Miku-chan? Are you okay? You look so pale."

"....I'm okay..."

"You need to rest. I'm worried about you, you seemed to have severe fatigue..." she said again, her tone dripping with natural sweetness.

She gathered her things after dressing up, slipping her arms into her blazer, her perfume wafting past me like smoke. The door creaked open. And before stepping out, she looked over her shoulder and said,

“You should come to my debut, Miku-chan~ I'll tell you about the venue later!”

The door shut. I stood there in the locker room alone, surrounded by the faint scent she left behind, rosewater and lies. The fog on the mirror distorted everything: my face, her shadow, even the space between us.

Maybe it was gone because she hid it? She used makeup? It doesn't seem like she used any of it....

Or maybe…

Maybe she never had it in the first place?