Petals of Roses

The classroom bustled with activity as students settled in. Despite the chaotic adventure of arriving here, they somehow managed to arrive on time. Among all the girls Kotaro knew, Noel was by far the most difficult.

She had an uncanny ability to choose the wrong path at every turn, yet somehow insisted on his help to find her class. If he lost sight of her for even a moment, she would wander off, turning what should have been a simple walk into an exhausting game of cat and mouse.

The school bell rang loud and clear.

"Well, we’re in class! That’s all that matters," Kotaro muttered. A single rose petal danced through the air, catching his eye as he tracked its graceful path. His gaze settled on the new student who had taken the seat next to him, and a sly grin crept across his face. "Can't resist being near me, can you?"

Noel let out an exasperated click of her tongue, unimpressed by his flirtatious remark. The two traded irritated glances before directing their attention elsewhere.

A slender man approached them, dressed formally with his signature pink necktie and square- shaped glasses perched on his nose. While his attire was proper, his hair left much to be desired—disheveled and brown, as if he couldn’t be bothered to comb it.

"Your girlfriend, Koty?"

"With her?" Kotaro pointed at her, amusement laced in his voice. He shook his head and scoffed. "Not a chance!"

The math teacher chuckled. "I'm only kidding! Here I thought you decided to give up on M—"

Kotaro let out a loud harrumph, cutting Mr. Praum off before he could finish. If that name slipped out, it would’ve spread like wildfire. The school newspaper wouldn’t hesitate to run the headline: “Shocking News: Top Basketball Player has a Crush on the Student Council President!” The entire school would have had a field day, and the gossip would never die.

Mr. Praum quickly apologized, though his teasing smirk remained, before turning his attention to Noel. "And I believe you're the new student."

"I am."

"What school did you go to before coming here?"

She tilted her head, pondering.

"I don't remember the name," she admitted. "But it was a school with ranks—starting from bronze, silver, gold, platinum, and diamond. It was a challenging place that I’d love to visit again."

The room fell into a deep, painful silence. Some students exchanged glances. A boy coughed. Someone shuffled their chair.

Kotaro stared at her. That’s not a school at all; it sounds more like a military program.

A girl near the window whispered, “Uh… was she training to be a soldier or a pro-player?”

The silence stretched unbearably until Mr. Praum cleared his throat loudly. “Well then! Moving on—class, this is Noel, our new student!”

Noel went up to the classroom. In her introduction, she appeared more confident and succinct than she was in the previous class.

“Koty, I think she likes you,” Rocky commented, plopping into his seat after returning from the bathroom.

“I think so too,” Kotaro agreed. He barely registered Rocky’s voice as his ears picked up on the growing murmur of gossip in the classroom.

Rumors were becoming rampant. Female students—typically the high-achieving, top-grade ones—had been mysteriously absent for weeks. Some theorized the dark alley was the cause. Kotaro had always brushed it off as nonsense, but an unsettling feeling gnawed at him. He was possibly the only one to have entered the alley and left unscathed.

Before Kotaro dwelled on it further, Rocky jabbed his elbow into his ribs, snapping him back to reality. “Ow! What?”

“I said, Ging and I are going to take down Draclo! Are you in?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get on after I finish my homework.”

As Noel made her way to her desk, Rocky sprang up, his chair screeching loudly across the floor. “Hi there, I’m Koty’s friend, Rocky! I see that you and Koty are getting along really well!”

Noel shook his hand and smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. It was just a coincidence that we ended up in the same class, but knowing that we have the same class makes me feel a little more confident!”

Kotaro narrowed his eyes. Liar.

Rocky turned back to Kotaro, patting his shoulders and dramatically wiping away imaginary tears. “I’m proud of you, Koty. You're such a gentleman!”

Ging returned from the bathroom, silently taking a seat next to Rocky. Without a word, he picked up a rose petal from his desk and placed it over one eye. “Ashley just went missing last night…”

A heavy silence settled over the group as they fixed their gazes on Ging. He was the least talkative, and when he spoke, it meant one thing—trouble. More often than not, his ominous predictions proved true. Like Ashley’s sudden disappearance.

The cheerleader had last been seen at Kotaro’s game. The news sent a wave of unease through him. His fists clenched as he recalled her bright smile and the casual invitation to her birthday party. The memory felt heavier now, weighed down by guilt.

Across from him, Noel shot Ging a glare sharp enough to slice through steel. She let out a quiet groan of frustration.

Ging, as always, remained unfazed.

"You two alright?" Kotaro asked, brow furrowed.

No answer. Just silence.

He turned to his more talkative friend. "Rocky, any idea what's going on?"

Rocky shrugged. Then, a mischievous glint flickered in his eyes. His lips curled into a sly grin as if he'd just cracked the case of the century.

"Wait a sec… Noel must be your ex-girlfriend, Ging! Isn't she?"

A beat of silence.

Then, two pairs of deadly glares locked onto Rocky.

Kotaro felt a shiver down his spine. Even the air in the room seemed to drop a few degrees.

Rocky, of course, remained unfazed. He grinned wider, reveling in the chaos he unleashed.

The intense staring contest resumed.

Kotaro, deeply regretting his involvement, couldn’t shake the feeling that something about Ging didn’t add up.

Unlike Rocky—whose entire personality revolved around being loud, annoying, and occasionally brilliant—Ging was a mystery. His background? None. His favorite food, color, and hobbies? There was nothing. One day, he simply appeared. Quiet, observant, too good at dodging personal questions. And before anyone knew it, he became a part of their circle.

It was almost as if he had been planted there.

Time passed until the class fell silent for the remainder of the hour. Kotaro, having finished his math assignment first, decided to take a bathroom break.

As he walked down the corridor, Ms. Rosenfeld the guidance counselor strode past him—then abruptly stopped. “Mr. Nishiki…”

Kotaro turned.“Hm? What is it, Ms. Rosenfeld?” His gaze landed on the bandage wrapped around her forehead. His brows furrowed. “Hey, your head. Did you hit it?”

She smirked, her expression unreadable. Lightly, she patted the bandage. “A little accident. I’ll be fine. But that’s beside the point. I want to talk to you about something.”

Kotaro sighed, already half-guessing what was coming. “Is it about my future?”

Her eyes lit up, and her smile widened. “Exactly! We need to discuss the kind of future you're pursuing.” She tilted her head slightly, eyes glinting. “Your academic record has impressed many colleges, and with your accomplishments, you could qualify for numerous scholarships!”

Kotaro scratched his head, a bit overwhelmed. “Scholarships, huh? I never really thought about it.”

“Well, you should, Kotaro.” Ms. Rosenfeld’s voice was warm, encouraging. “You have so much potential. Have you considered what field you might want to study?”

Kotaro leaned against the hallway wall, his mind elsewhere. He was still in search of his past. That remained his main priority.

“I’m not sure, really. I guess I haven’t put too much thought into it.”

The guidance counselor’s gaze lingered, and her voice more alluring. “Kotaro, you’re a very special man.” She stepped a little closer, her smile unwavering. “I can see you excelling in so many fields. You could easily make an impression in any profession.”

A delicate floral fragrance enveloped him, and an inexplicable sensation stirred in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t strong, but it was distinct. Unfamiliar. Kotaro shifted uncomfortably. Why does it feel like she’s standing too close?

Her voice adopted a sultry whisper. “You know, sometimes in life, opportunities come when you least expect them.”

She took another step. Kotaro stiffened.

“It’s important to seize them when they do.” Her hands—soft and gentle—rested on his shoulders.

A jolting arousal surged within him at the tender cadence of her voice. Kotaro’s heart raced, and he stammered a bit. What is she doing?

Kotaro swallowed. “Uh yeah, I guess you’re right. I just—” He forced a chuckle, trying to defuse the strange tension. “ I’ll think about it more seriously.”

Ms. Rosenfeld held his gaze. Her smile remained, but something about her eyes felt… off. “That’s all I’m asking, Kotaro. I believe in you. And I’m always here to help. Always…”

Kotaro exhaled slowly, his pulse still unsteady. What just happened? He wasn’t sure what bothered him more—her unusual warmth toward him, or the fact that, until today, Ms. Rosenfeld had always been indifferent to students’ futures.

She was known for keeping to herself, rarely leaving her office. So why now? Shaking his head, he continued toward the bathroom. As he rounded the corner, he caught a glimpse of Ms. Rosenfeld slipping into her office.

「Ms. Rosenfeld’s perspective」

With a calculated grace, Ms. Rosenfeld moved toward her desk, each step measured, deliberate. Her fingers grazed the bandage at her forehead, the fabric smooth against her skin. Without a second thought, she removed it, as if shedding a mask.

Her eyes cast a fleeting, indifferent glance at the lifeless body sprawled on the floor in front of her. A body that bore an eerie resemblance to herself, almost like a distant, twisted reflection. A cascade of rose petals fluttered down around her, an enchanting prelude to the revelation of Mr. Rosenfeld’s concealed visage.

She was no longer the mild-mannered, distant guidance counselor. Rather, she was adorned in a long white dress, accentuated by a black feather scarf embellished with vibrant red roses. The dress, although elegant, was bold and revealing. A band of see-through fishnet around her left hip and leg made a daring statement, exposing skin in places where no one had dared to look before.

As she caught her reflection in the window’s glass, the once-concealed bandage revealed a striking tattoo beneath it. Ms. Rosenfeld’s lips curled into a smile, a slow, calculating smile that held no warmth, only purpose.

“It’s time I take things into my hands now. Let the gigaga begin.”

「Kotaro’s perspective」

Meanwhile, down the hallway, Kotaro finished his business and made his way back to class, hands tucked into his pockets. The air in the corridor felt strangely heavy, though he couldn’t quite place why. The once-familiar atmosphere of the school seemed subtly off, as if something had shifted in the past few moments.

Then—a scream.

A piercing, gut-wrenching shriek ripped through the air, causing Kotaro to halt mid-step. The cry was raw, filled with a desperation that sent a primal chill down his spine. The hallway, once filled with idle chatter and footsteps, fell into a vacuum of silence.

Students froze.

A beat passed. Then another.

Then came the sound of frantic footsteps, the hurried, panicked slaps of rubber soles against the linoleum floor. The rapid thumping of fleeing students echoed from around the corner.

And then it emerged.

A ghastly, pale figure lurched into view, its grotesque frame towering over the terrified female students desperately trying to escape its reach.

It was unnatural—as though it had been stitched together from nightmares and decay. Its gaunt, skeletal torso jutted outward, exposing a ribcage that looked less like human bones and more like the remnants of something once starved beyond recognition. Faint blue veins pulsed sickly beneath its paper-thin skin.

Its head was bulbous yet elongated, its flesh stretched taut as if too small for its grotesque, oversized jaw. When it opened its mouth, the stench of decay poured forth—a rancid cocktail of rotting flesh, burning the nostrils of those unfortunate enough to be caught in its wake.

The creature’s razor-sharp fangs were stained yellow, plaque-ridden and jagged, each one looking as though it had been broken and regrown over and over again. Its breath came in deep, wheezing gasps, as if merely existing was an effort.

And then—its claws.

Long, twisted fingers twitched and flexed, each digit extending into bony, sickle-like talons. When they scraped against the walls, the nails screeched like metal against glass, sending a ripple of shivers through the students paralyzed in fear. The shadows they cast along the hallway walls stretched unnaturally, flickering in shapes that should not be.

The creature let out a low, guttural growl—a sound somewhere between a starving animal and a man choking on his own breath.

Then, it moved.

Its lanky frame lurched forward, spine arching grotesquely, its hollow eyes fixating on its prey.

Fear spread among the students like wildfire. Panic gripped them as they frantically searched for escape routes. Sinister laughter emanated from the slender nightmare, a chilling sound that seemed to revel in their terror.

"Tasty human! No run. Go in me! Need finish gigaga."

Kotaro’s heart pounded as he sprinted alongside the fleeing students. The sheer weight of the creature’s presence made it feel as though the very air had thickened, suffocating, pressing down on him.

And then—he saw her.

Noel.

Amid the chaos, she stood still. Unmoved. Unshaken.

The terror that consumed the others unfazed her. She watched the creature with an unsettling calm, her golden eyes gleaming with something other—something neither fear nor shock.

Kotaro’s instincts screamed at him. They had to run. Now.

He reached out, his fingers closing around her wrist. “Noel! We have to run!”

But she didn’t move. She pulled her hand away from his.

The moment was brief, yet it shook him—like a crack in his perception of reality. His breath hitched. His fingers curled around nothing but air.

What is she thinking?

The pale creature halted its track. Its massive shadow loomed over the two, stretching along the floor like a creeping abyss.

"Human wants to be eaten? Easy for me."

Noel stepped forward.

"I'm not on the menu, yokai."

A pulse.

The air around her shimmered, heat waves rising like flickering embers. A pulse of energy thrummed outward, vibrating against Kotaro's skin. His breath hitched, his senses alight with something ancient—something powerful.

The aura surrounding her burned. It didn’t rage like a wildfire—it flowed, a controlled inferno coursing along invisible paths, moving with purpose. The hallway lights flickered as the energy rippled outward.

Kotaro could only stare, his mind racing with one burning question—who is she?