Spectral Encore

“Okay, don’t forget to revise pages 27 through 32 by tomorrow. Class is dismissed.”

The teacher’s voice was drowned out by the collective, silent sigh of relief from the students of 2-C. Even without anyone cheering, you could feel the sudden spike of energy in the room. It was the last lecture of a long day, and the atmosphere was bubbling with the desperate need to escape.

Eiji, lost in the usual static of his own thoughts, began sliding his lone textbook into his bag.

“Hey, bozo.”

He didn't need to look up to know who it was. He didn't even find it necessary to reply.

“Oi. Can you hear me?” Hatsue barked, leaning over his desk.

“Unfortunately,” Eiji muttered.

“Unfortunately? Oi! What do you mean by that?!”

“Just get on with it.” Eiji sighed, finally raising his head to meet her gaze.

At the sight of his unexpected obedience, Hatsue’s annoyed frown flipped into a triumphant grin. “See? You can listen when you try.”

“...I’m leaving.” Eiji stood up, turning toward the door.

“Hey, wait!” Hatsue stomped after him, closing the distance in three sharp strides.

For a moment, there was only silence. She stared down his eyes, and spoke resolutely.

“Tomorrow. You and me. Don't forget.”

Eiji stared at her for a beat, his expression flat.

“…No, thanks.”

“Huh?!” She glared, “I’m talking about cleaning duty, you idiot! We’re on the schedule together tomorrow.” Hatsue huffed, her face reddening as she reached her limit.

“Oh.”

“'Oh,' my ass! What did you think I was talking about?”

Eiji blinked a few times.

“Doesn’t matter. See ya.”

He gave a lazy wave over his shoulder and slipped out the door, leaving the class rep standing there, completely bewildered.

“…How did I get rejected without even asking...?”

“Hatsue! Come on, we don’t have all day!” her friends called from the hallway.

“Comiiiing!” Hatsue turned to join them, but not before throwing one last shout at Eiji’s retreating back. “Don’t you dare forget about tomorrow, okay?!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eiji waved her off.

He still didn't quite understand why Hatsue had spent the last year pestering him. She was popular, loud, and had a massive circle of friends; she didn't need to use her role as class rep as a pretense to talk to a loner like him. What was her angle?

“How come you’re always so chummy with Kanzaki-kun, Hatsue-chan?” one of her friends asked teasingly, as their voices drifted down the hall, “Is there something going on between you two?”

“Chummy? With that idiot? Give me a break.” Hatsue retorted.

“I think he’s kind of scary…” another girl added.

“I think he’s actually pretty cool…” a third countered, sighing longingly.

“He’s neither,” Hatsue’s voice rang out one last time before they rounded the corner. “He’s just a dork.”

Dork?

Eiji narrowed his eyes at no one in particular.

The main hallway was nearly empty. Most students had already migrated to the club building, leaving the academic wing in a heavy, echoing silence. But as Eiji scanned the perimeter, he realized he wasn't alone.

Standing by the building’s entrance was a girl. She wasn't wearing their school’s uniform, and her long hair was tied in a neat braid over her shoulder. What stopped Eiji in his tracks, however, was the faint blue radiance emanating from her—and her eyes. They were hollow, lifeless pits.

She was a translucent, glowing projection. A spirit.

“Meh.”

“Yes, Eiji-dono!” The eyeball popped into existence beside his ear.

“Is she...?” Eiji gestured with a tilt of his head. It was rare to see a spirit this clear during daytime.

“Meh believes her presence is unrelated to the malevolence in the school…” the Shikigami whispered, hovering cautiously. “In fact, the presence of that spirit is a complete mystery! Even though she’s standing right there, Meh cannot sense a soul. She’s like... a recording. A projection.”

“Like… she’s not really here,” Eiji muttered.

As he took a step toward the entrance, the girl vanished. No fading, no flickering—she simply ceased to be, leaving no trace behind. Eiji frowned, but decided to let the mystery rest. He had enough on his plate.

“Move it already!”

“S-stop it…”

As Eiji approached the school gates, the familiar, stinging voice of the gyaru from earlier caught his ear. This time, the blonde primadonna wasn't alone. She had brought her underlings—a classic, spineless move. They had the girl with the red-streaked bob backed against a wall, circling her like a pack of vultures.

“She said stop it!” one of the followers mocked, and the group erupted into a chorus of high-pitched cackles.

“I didn’t—”

“You didn’t what?!”

“She wants to say she didn't do anything!”

More laughter.

“Get lost already!” the leader snapped, stepping into the girl's personal space. “First you try to act all cute and innocent, and now you want us to leave you alone? You should have apologized when you had the chance!”

One of the other girls reached out and shoved the petite girl’s shoulder. It wasn't a heavy hit, but it was enough to knock her off balance. She sprawled onto the pavement, her bag spilling open.

“Shouldn’t Eiji-dono—”

“Shh…” Eiji silenced Meh.

He was watching the girl closely. He had to know the nature of the curse before he charged in. Rushing a malevolent energy he didn't understand could make things ten times worse for her.

“Ho, look at this,” the leader smirked, looking at the contents of the bag.

She stepped forward and planted her foot squarely on a sketchbook. With a cruel, swift kick, she sent the book skidding across the courtyard and straight into a muddy puddle.

“This one likes to draw... I bet she’s one of those freak otakus!”

The circle laughed again, tightening around their prey.

“You gonna apologize now, or—”

The girl didn't wait. With a sudden burst of desperate energy, she lunged through a gap in their circle and bolted toward the club building.

“Oi!” the leader shouted, stunned that the "freak" had actually escaped. “That stupid bitch... we’ll show her next time.”

Eiji sighed, pushing off the wall he’d been leaning against. He started walking toward the group.

Was she the source of the curse, or just the victim? The former was starting to feel much more likely.

“W-what?” the leader stuttered as Eiji approached. His glare was unintentional, but effective.

He stopped right in front of them, close enough for them to feel… uncomfortable.

“Can’t you see we’re... talking?” another girl piped up from the safety of the group.

“Do I look like I care?” Eiji’s voice dropped into a low rumble.

“But—”

“Get lost.”

“Eh?”

“I said, get lost.”

The leader gritted her teeth, but the fear in her eyes was unmistakable. Eiji knew the type—bullies were just cowards who needed an audience. They simply fed off of fear. When there was none to give… they retreated back into their spineless shell.

Without a word, th leader turned on her heel.

“Let’s go, everyone… this is stupid…” she said, voice cracking, her stride hurried and uneven. Her followers scrambled after her, muttering under their breaths.

When they were finally gone, Eiji walked over to the puddle. He reached down and picked up the soaked, mud-stained sketchbook.

⌁◉⌁

“Welcome!”

“Welcome…”

Inside the air-conditioned, mockingly-friendly atmosphere of the convenience store, Eiji stood behind the counter looking slightly less amused than usual. It was quite a feat, considering he rarely looked amused at all.

His manager—a short, stout man in his mid-forties—shot Eiji a sharp, disapproving side-glance as a customer browsed the aisles.

“Kanzaki-kun… didn’t I tell you to sound more excited when greeting customers?” the man whisper-shouted.

“Yes, sir.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Too much of a hassle, sir.”

“Kanzaki-kun!”

“Yes, sir?”

The manager slumped against the counter, defeated.

“I can’t believe you’ve worked here for almost a year and you still can’t greet people correctly…”

“Uhm...” The customer, a young woman in her twenties, stood at the register staring in bewilderment at the manager, who looked like he was melting into the linoleum.

“E-E-Excuse me!” The man jumped back, his professional mask snapping into a stuttering mess.

Eiji moved with mechanical efficiency. With his unruly blonde hair tucked away beneath the store’s cap, he looked significantly more approachable than he did on the street. He scanned the items one by one, suppressing his habit of glaring at everything that moved.

“That will be 2,830 yen.”

“Thank you.” The woman smiled sweetly and handed over a bill. “Keep the change.” With a slight wink, she headed for the exit.

“Thank you very much,” Eiji said, bowing lightly.

“D-D-Do c-come ag-gain!” his manager stammered, bowing so low he nearly hit his head on the cigarette rack. The man’s inability to handle beautiful women was a legendary weakness at this point.

Eiji didn't comment. He simply checked the clock and removed his cap.

“It’s eleven. I’m off the clock,” he said, heading for the back room before the manager could protest.

Life since the tragedy had been a series of hard choices. After Hifumi and Asahi were gone, Eiji was left with almost nothing. With his mother falling into a coma shortly after the news of her daughter’s death, the boy had been forced to grow up in a heartbeat. He’d moved into a modest apartment on his own, taking this job to cover his expenses despite his mother’s insurance payouts being sufficient. He refused to touch that money. In his mind, it belonged to her—a fund for the day she finally woke up.

The streets were nearly deserted by the time Eiji stepped outside. The night had set in for good, and a full moon hung above the Shina district like a bewitched, silver jewel.

“Haah…”

He breathed in the chilly air, the moonlight reflecting off the jet-black helmet tucked under his arm. A full moon always felt like a taunt, a reminder of the night his world had collapsed.

He walked to the narrow alley between the convenience store and a liquor shop. Tucked away in the shadows sat a polished, jet-black Honda CBF250. It was an old machine, but Eiji kept it in immaculate condition. When he couldn't afford a professional service, he spent his nights tearing the engine down and tuning it himself. It was one of the few things that actually made him feel like he was doing something right.

He rested his hand on the leather seat, a wave of familiar emotions welling up.

This had been Asahi’s bike.

Selling it would have made his life ten times easier, but he could never bring himself to do it. He had sworn to Asahi that he’d ride a bike just like this when he grew up. He’d gotten his license the very second he was eligible, and now, riding the exact machine he had idolized as a child was the closest he could get to riding alongside the man himself.

“Hm?”

Eiji raised his head, his gaze cutting through the darkness of the alley. A glowing blue figure stood at the far end.

It was her—the same braided girl he’d seen at the school entrance.

Eiji swung his leg over the seat, his hands finding the familiar grip of the handlebars. As he settled in, the figure vanished from the alley and reappeared further down the deserted road, standing perfectly still.

“Eiji-dono! Meh thinks we need to follow her!” his Shikigami chirped, manifesting from the air.

“I was thinking the same thing…” Eiji muttered. He pulled the full-face helmet over his head, clicked the visor down, and kicked the kickstand back.

He turned the key. The engine roared to life, a deep, mechanical purr that filled the silent street with sudden life. Eiji tapped the gear pedal into place and popped the clutch. The bike surged forward, chasing the translucent trail of the girl who shouldn't exist.