Red Diary

Evening arrived with heavy, sluggish steps. The sky was a bit overcast, making time feel like it was moving in slow motion. In the distance, the final bell chimed lazily, signaling the end of the school day. I tucked away the book I was reading, packed my things, and locked up the Club Room before stopping by the faculty office to return the keys.

After swapping my uwabaki for my beat-up Converse, I headed for the bicycle rack. But my leg stopped the moment I caught the sight of a book lying in the middle of a flower bed.

Curiosity coaxed me into picking it up. It was a beautiful leather-bound volume. I opened the pages with a hint of hesitation; from the looks of it, this was clearly a diary. My least favorite kind of reading. So, I didn't read a single word—I just flipped through the pages. That was until I hit a sentence that made my heart stop.

I’m going to kill myself in seven days.

The words were written in thick, red ink. Though I wasn't entirely sure if "ink" was the right word for it.

I had no idea what the owner of this diary was going through, but the stench of tragedy wafted off that one bloody sentence.

It felt like I’d read something I was never meant to see. My survival instincts kicked in. I immediately placed the diary back where I found it and turned to walk away, acting as if nothing had happened.

"It’s quite rude to just leave a book lying around like that, you know."

A firm voice brought me to a halt. I turned slowly toward the sound. Tanaka Asuka, my classmate, was standing near the flower bed with her trademark gentle smile.

"Aren't you supposed to be a bookworm? I thought you’d be devastated if even a corner of a cover got peeled. So how could you treat a book so heartlessly like that?" said Tanaka, her voice sounding almost like a scolding.

She picked up the book and brushed the dust off the cover. Still wearing that same smile, she looked at me and asked, "Did you read it?"

The question sent butterflies—the nervous kind—fluttering in my stomach. But Tanaka’s sweet, ambiguous smile forced a nod out of me.

"I figured. How far have you read?"

Once again, I was forced to confess.

"Just... one page."

"Hmm. One page, huh? Which one?"

"Uh..."

Appearing impatient for my answer, Tanaka flipped through the book in her hand and stopped at a specific page. She stepped closer to me and asked, "This one?"

She showed me the page. That ominous red sentence flared up again.

"I’m so sorry. I didn't mean to...."

"Yeah, I get it," Tanaka interrupted, snapping the book shut. "You were just curious, right? Bookworms will read anything they lay eyes upon, even someone else's diary—without permission."

Her words were soft, yet shredded my ears.

"Again, I’m truly sorry," I pleaded, bowing my head.

"Well, it's also my fault for dropping it, though. So I suppose I can forgive you," Tanaka said, her lips curving into a peculiar smile.

"Really...?"

"Yeah. On one condition."

"C... condition...?"

"Indeed."

She hopped in front of me like an Easter bunny that had just finished its task. Then, with that ambiguous smile still plastered on her face, she made a chilling confession:

"I’m going to kill myself in seven days. Until then, you have to grant my every wish!"