wind chime

“She’s not here.”

I said it.

One hour after Mio had declared, with the smuggest look imaginable—

“She’s there.”

Third floor of the old school building.

The end of the hallway.

There was nothing.

Just a wall.

We checked the rooms around it too.

Storage room.

Cleaning closet.

Ceiling.

Floor.

Walls.

Nothing.

No ghost.

No clues.

And, while we were at it, no dignity left for the student council president either.

“Ow.”

She pinched me on the back.

“Why?”

“Hmm. I wonder why.”

All I did was look at her a little mockingly.

“Should we go back?”

“We’re going.”

“Where?”

“Outside.”

Five minutes later.

We were standing outside the old school building.

At the edge of the school grounds.

Along the fence.

Under Mio’s orders, I had been forced to gather about ten fairly large rocks.

“What are you planning to do with these?”

“Who knows? You’ll find out soon enough.”

Mio walked off ahead of me.

I already had a bad feeling.

But even then, I never thought she would actually do it.

Five more minutes later.

We were back on the third floor of the old school building, in the classroom next to that wall.

I stuck my head slightly out the window and looked over.

A little farther along the wall was the window where the curtain had supposedly been seen fluttering.

Naturally, Mio leaned halfway out the window.

A rock in one hand.

“Wait.”

“What?”

There was no longer any room for doubt.

“…President Kirishima, have you ever heard of property damage?”

“It’s fine. They’re tearing this building down soon anyway.”

“That is absolutely not the point—”

“Here goes!”

No discussion.

Before I could stop her, Mio started throwing rocks.

One.

Two.

Three.

Crash.

The glass shattered.

“Yes!”

“No, not ‘yes.’”

We were finished.

A moral dilemma unfolded inside my head.

Report it?

Cover it up?

Angel versus devil.

“Hurry up.”

Mio swept that entire philosophical debate aside.

“Go get the rope from the clubroom.”

“Wait, you’re serious?”

“Of course I’m serious.”

I tried to argue.

This had gone too far.

Obviously too far.

But when I looked into Mio’s eyes, the words stopped.

She wasn’t enjoying this.

She wasn’t joking around.

She was scared.

And yet there wasn’t even the slightest hint that she intended to back down.

The moment I saw that look, those words came back to me.

“If you can’t prove something, people pretend it never existed.”

Right now—

Mio was desperately trying to grab hold of something that someone wanted erased.

“…I’ll go get it.”

I sighed and ran back to the clubroom.

A few minutes later.

When I returned with the rope, Mio had already started preparing.

She tied one end around a thick pillar in the classroom.

Then wrapped the other around her waist.

“Kusunoki, stay here.”

Just as she placed one foot on the window frame, I spoke.

“Wait.”

She stopped.

“I’ll go.”

There was no way I could let a delicate lady go first.

Or so declared the handsome guy inside me. ⭐

“I’m more suited for this.”

“President Kirishima, you can’t even see ghosts. If there’s something in there, I should be the one going.”

“But what if you fall?”

Apparently she had no concern whatsoever about herself falling.

I almost laughed.

“I’ll be fine. I’m actually stronger than I look.”

That wasn’t a lie.

I was a gloomy loner, sure, but I had at least an average amount of upper-body strength.

“Besides, if you fall, the entire school will murder me. Just sit back and watch.”

I tied the rope around my waist.

Climbed over the window.

The moment I stepped outside, the wind grew stronger.

Third floor.

Schoolyard below.

Evening sky.

A narrow ledge beneath my feet.

Don’t look down.

If I looked down, it was over.

“Kusunoki.”

Mio’s voice came from behind me.

“If it’s too much, come back.”

For once, she said something completely reasonable.

Which somehow made it even scarier.

“…It’s not too much.”

A lie.

Keeping one hand against the wall, I slowly moved sideways.

One step.

Another.

The window drew closer.

The window that could only be seen from outside.

The one where a female student claimed she had seen a curtain—

in an old school building where there shouldn’t have been any curtains at all.

Avoiding the remaining shards of broken glass, I carefully reached through the opening.

Unlocked it.

The frame was warped with age, so I forced the window open.

Dark.

Narrow.

But there was a floor.

Walls.

And—

No curtain.

Nothing fluttering by the window.

I climbed inside.

My feet touched solid flooring.

Old air brushed against my face.

Dust.

Dampness.

The smell of wood.

It was old-fashioned, but otherwise it looked like any ordinary classroom.

Blackboard.

Lockers.

Cleaning closet.

Desks and chairs stacked carelessly in piles.

“Kusunoki!”

Mio’s voice grew louder.

“Is something wrong?!”

Nothing in particular.

I was about to answer—

when I looked toward the window.

At the same moment, a chill ran across the back of my neck.

Something white fluttered outside.

A curtain.

No.

A dress?

For an instant—

the ground seemed to vanish beneath my feet.

The memory of a hand against my back.

That cold sensation from the rooftop came rushing back.

“Hey! Hey, answer me!”

Mio’s voice snapped me back to reality.

There was nothing by the window.

Only broken glass.

“Kusunoki, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

I was about to say it when I noticed something.

In the middle of the room.

In the shadow of the piled-up desks and chairs.

An old wooden box.

Darkened grain.

Rusty metal fittings.

On the lid were faded traces of black ink.

It looked almost like a torii gate.

Or maybe writing.

I couldn’t tell what it meant.

But I couldn’t look away.

I crouched in front of the box.

Open it?

Leave it closed?

Before I could decide, my hand was already reaching out.

My fingers touched the blackened lid.

Creak.

I opened it.

Inside—

Nothing.

Empty.

Oh.

The tension drained from my shoulders.

And then—

from inside the empty box—

Chirin.

Something rang.