Kōki walked briskly down the hallway, his shoes striking against the polished floor. The echo of his footsteps mixed with the distant chatter of students still lingering after lunch. His brows furrowed, his shoulders tight.
"That girl is definitely on to us," he muttered, keeping his voice low.
Beside him, Sayoko drifted silently, her faint glow hidden in the brighter light of the hallway windows. "I doubt it. Kureha has great intuition, yes, but she's not a hundred percent certain we're here," she said softly, her voice calm but firm.
"You guys should lay low until school ends. I've got a feeling she's gonna keep tabs on me all day," Kōki muttered, shifting his schoolbag on his shoulder.
Sayoko tilted her head. "Maybe she's harmless. I mean, what will she even do if she finds out you can see ghosts?"
Kōki slowed his steps, exhaling through his nose. "You're right… but still. There's something off about her. Her presence—it just sends shivers down my spine. Maybe it's just me, but… she doesn't seem stable. It's like she's afraid of something." His voice dropped until it was nearly a whisper, the words more to himself than to her.
As if to prove his fears, the rest of the day played out exactly as he predicted.
Kureha watched him with an unblinking intensity.
She stood outside the bathroom when he stepped out, drying his hands with a paper towel. Kōki nearly dropped it when he found her waiting. Her dark red eyes locked onto him without hesitation, her expression unreadable.
Even in class, he couldn't escape her. He could feel her stare drilling into his back. His hands tightened around his pencil, the eraser pressing grooves into his fingertips. Holding his textbook up to his face, he sneaked a glance over his shoulder—only to find her eyes already locked onto his, unblinking, sharp, and steady.
The only relief came during their separate classes. For a short while, he could breathe without the weight of her gaze. But even then, the unease lingered. He didn't let his guard down.
When the final bell rang, Kōki made his way toward the school gate, Sayoko and Takuto following behind. The crowd of students streaming out blurred around him, but his eyes kept darting back, searching.
"That girl is weird. And creepy," Kōki said, lowering his voice. "She followed me everywhere today. I didn't even get the chance to talk about our next move."
Sayoko floated just behind him, her hands folded. "Yeah… she's really persistent. I'll give her that."
Takuto crossed his arms with an exaggerated sigh. "So what now? Did you find anything we can work with in the old school building?"
Kōki nodded and reached into his jacket pocket. The cool texture of paper brushed against his fingertips before he pulled it out. He unfolded it slowly.
"I found Sayoko's old school bag. Looked like it had been sitting there since… well, since she died. Inside was this."
He held up the folded note.
"A love letter," Kōki said flatly, the paper still in his hand.
"You read it without asking me, you jerk!" Sayoko puffed out her cheeks and crossed her arms, floating in the air with her voice sharper than usual.
"What I really can't believe," Kōki muttered, rubbing his cheek with his palm, "is that you managed to slap me even though you're a ghost." The sting was faint but real enough to make him wince.
Sayoko huffed, turning her head away.
Kōki let out a breath and glanced down at the paper again. "Still… the letter had some useful info. It was addressed to a guy named Takumi. Dated April 2018—five years ago. She asked him to meet her in the old school building. That's something we can work with."
"So what do we do with it?" Sayoko asked, drifting closer, her expression softening with curiosity.
"That's simple. We find this Takumi guy. He's our only lead right now—maybe even a suspect." Kōki's voice was firm, though his fingers tapped against the folded paper.
"But how? We don't even know what he looks like, or where he is now," Takuto pointed out, arms crossed as he hovered near the wall. His eyes glinted with doubt.
"Good question." Kōki turned toward Sayoko, studying her reaction. "You got all flustered earlier when I read the letter, so I'm guessing you remember who this guy is?"
Sayoko's lips pressed together. Her hands fidgeted at her sides. "To be honest… I don't. I saw you reading the letter with my name on it, so I figured I wrote it. But I don't remember him—or why I liked him."
"Oh, great. Then you're no help," Kōki sighed, dragging a hand through his hair.
"Sayoko's eyes widened. "Excuse me?!"
"Never mind. Maybe Ayaka remembers him. I'll ask her when I get home." He stepped toward the school gate, Sayoko and Takuto trailing after him.
A click. A flash.
"You're a sly one, Kōki. I'll give you that," came a voice from behind the camera lens. The tone was playful but carried a strange sharpness.
Kureha lowered the old vintage camera, her pale fingers resting on the worn leather grip. Long silver hair spilled down her shoulders, strands catching the weak yellow hallway light. Deep red eyes fixed on him, glowing faintly with curiosity, though shadows beneath them betrayed exhaustion. Her skin was pale, almost translucent under the bulb, and when she tilted her head, a few loose strands slid across her face. She brushed them away slowly, her movements sluggish.
"But it's confirmed now—Takeda-kun really is talking to ghosts," she murmured, her voice calm but edged with fatigue.
A click of the front door echoed through the small apartment as Kōki stepped inside, loosening his shoelaces before slipping off his shoes. He exhaled, shoulders slumping slightly.
"Sis, I'm home," he said, his voice carrying a hint of fatigue.
From the living room, Ayaka called without looking up from her phone. "You came home early? That's… unusual." She stretched her arms above her head and yawned. "I'm too tired to cook, so pizza it is."
Kōki smirked, rubbing the back of his neck. "You always order pizza on Fridays, don't you? Not that I mind… better than your half-hearted attempts at cooking."
Ayaka shot him a sharp glare over the edge of her phone. "What was that? Say it louder, Kō!"
"Nothing! I said nothing!" Kōki held up his hands defensively, quickly glancing toward the hallway. Then he leaned a little closer, voice dropping. "Hey… do you know someone named Takumi Hoshino? He went to our school—same grade as you."
Ayaka tilted her head, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Takumi… Hoshino, huh? Yeah, I remember him. We haven't spoken in two years, though. Last I heard, he was working at the police station nearby. Don't know if he's still there."
"Let's go check!" Takuto's voice rang suddenly, and he zipped across the hallway like a flash, barely glancing at anyone.
"Let's go check!" Takuto's voice rang suddenly. In the next instant, he passed through the wall, his form shimmering slightly as he reappeared on the other side.
Kōki sighed, sliding his sneakers back on. "I'm going. Don't eat my slices—leave them in the fridge!"
"Wait, Kōki! Does this have anything to do with Sayoko again?" Ayaka called from the living room, her tone carrying both curiosity and exasperation. Kōki didn't look back, already swinging the door open.
Jeez, that boy… Ayaka muttered under her breath, her fingers tightening around the TV remote.
The police station loomed ahead, its fluorescent lights casting sharp reflections on the wet pavement. Kōki stopped in front of the entrance, tugging his hoodie over his head. "So… this is the place," he murmured, taking a steadying breath before stepping inside, Takuto and Sayoko floating silently beside him.
A uniformed officer at the front desk looked up, frowning. "Hey! What are you doing here, kid? This isn't a public playground."
Kōki held up his hands slightly, forcing a calm expression. "I'm looking for Officer Takumi Hoshino. Is he still stationed here?"
The officer scratched the back of his neck. "Takumi Hoshino? He's out on patrol right now. You'll have to come back later."
Uhh… okay, Kōki muttered, shuffling slightly from foot to foot, the cool linoleum floor pressing against the soles of his shoes.
"What should we do, Kōki-kun? Should we wait?" Sayoko's voice hovered near his shoulder, her presence sending a slight chill along his neck.
"No," Kōki said, shaking his head, his gaze tracking the movement of a couple of officers walking past the lobby. "If he's on patrol, there's no telling when he'll be back. Let's come back tomorrow instead."
"Works for me," Takuto said, drifting slightly above the tiled floor. "Looking for cops isn't exactly my scene. I'd rather just float around in your basement."
"Knock yourself out," Kōki replied, adjusting the strap of his backpack. "But don't even think about tagging along tomorrow."
As they started toward the exit, a young female officer, noticeably short and compact in stature, approached from the other side of the lobby. She had short brown hair cropped neatly above her shoulders, and her green eyes glinted with curiosity. "Wait up!" she called, her voice carrying just enough authority to make Kōki stop.
He turned, flinching slightly at the sharp click of her boots on the linoleum. Sayoko and Takuto paused mid-air, observing silently.
"You said Takumi Hoshino?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. Her gaze softened for just a fraction of a second. "He's my cousin. Come with me—we can talk somewhere quieter."
Kōki exchanged a glance with Sayoko, who tilted her head in approval. He nodded, following the officer to a small office tucked away behind the main desk. She closed the door behind them with a quiet click, cutting off the distant hum of the lobby.
"So… what exactly do you want with Takumi?" she asked, leaning slightly against the edge of the desk. The faint scent of coffee lingered in the room, along with the metallic tang of paperclips and files.
Kōki shifted his weight, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's… about a case from five years ago," he said slowly. "A girl named Sayoko Mizuhara."
The officer blinked sharply, her eyes widening. She straightened, her hands gripping the edge of the desk. "Sayoko Mizuhara? I remember her… She… she had a thing for Takumi."
Kōki felt a shiver run down his spine at the mention of her name. Sayoko hovered closer, her translucent fingers brushing slightly against his sleeve, and he could sense her tension echoing in the air.