—End of Winter Break—
The morning light slipped quietly into Yui's bedroom, casting pale blue across the posters on her wall. Her flip phone buzzed once on her desk, and Yui groggily reached for it with one hand while still lying under the blanket.
She flipped it open with a practiced motion and squinted at the tiny screen.
No messages.
She tapped into Mixi next, scrolling to their private community thread. Still nothing. No new posts. No ghost sightings. Not even a dumb joke from Haru.
She sighed and dropped the flip phone back onto her desk, its case clacking softly against the wood. Pushing herself out of bed, she rubbed her eyes and started her morning routine.
Toothbrush in one hand, toothpaste cap dangling from her mouth, she glanced at the calendar on the wall. First day back.
Great.
After brushing her teeth and washing her face, she tied her hair up into its usual ponytail, adjusting it once in the mirror. She pulled on her school uniform piece by piece — white shirt, navy vest, pleated skirt — then headed downstairs.The smell of grilled fish and rice filled the kitchen. Her mom stood by the counter plating tamagoyaki, while her dad sipped coffee behind the newspaper.
"Morning," Yui said, sliding into her usual seat.
"Morning, sweetheart," her mom said. "You slept in."
"It's the first day back," her dad added without looking up. "Gotta ease into it."
Yui gave a sleepy smile. "It's still too early."
As she picked at her breakfast, her mom glanced over at her. "You've been spending a lot of time with your new friends lately, haven't you?"
"Yeah," Yui said, perking up a little. "I made a lot of new ones this year."
Her dad lowered the paper just enough to raise an eyebrow. "That so? I thought you were always glued to Ayumi."
"I still am," she said with a small laugh. "But now there's… a few more of us."
Her mom smiled. "That's good. Just don't forget to take care of yourself, alright?"
"I won't."
Once she was done, Yui stood up and brought her dish to the sink. She washed it carefully, dried her hands on a towel, and turned toward the hallway.
"I'll be heading out now."
"Be safe," her mom called after her. "Text if you need anything."
Yui nodded, jogging upstairs to grab her flip phone from her desk. She slipped it into her pocket, swung her randoseru backpack over her shoulder, and headed out the door.
—On the Way to School—
The cold air hit her face as she walked. The sky was cloudy but bright. On the quiet sidewalk, Yui flipped open her phone again and refreshed the Mixi page.
[1 New Notification]
She clicked it quickly.
Kaito: "Meeting during lunch. Don't forget."
Yui smiled softly. Finally.
She typed a quick reply —
Yui: "Got it. See you guys then."
She tucked her phone away and picked up her pace.
At School – Morning Rush
The usual blur of students shuffled into the school building, all rubbing their hands together against the cold. At the entrance, Yui stepped into the familiar locker area and scanned the rows until she found hers.
There, standing nearby, was Haruka. She was changing into her indoor slippers, already halfway through tying her laces.
"Morning, Haruka," Yui said, kneeling to open her locker.
"Good morning," Haruka smiled. "You look tired, is everything okay?"
"Winter break wasn't long enough."
Yui pulled off her outdoor shoes and slid on her school slippers, tapping her heels to make sure they were snug. "Hey, do you know where Ayumi is?"
Haruka straightened up. "Cafeteria. She said she was gonna grab a hot drink before class."
Yui shut her locker door and slung her randoseru back over her shoulder.
"Thanks. I'll go find her."
The cafeteria had its usual sleepy hum — trays sliding, chairs scraping, and the scent of steamed bread filling the air.
Yui followed Haruka through the crowd, both carrying small breakfast trays. As they reached the far end, she spotted Ayumi already seated — and right beside her, Haru and Kaito.
Kaito sat stiffly, sipping miso soup like it might give him emotional armor. Haru looked like he'd been awake for hours and was already annoyed about it.
Ayumi looked up and gestured. "Finally! I thought you were gonna miss the meeting that didn't exist five minutes ago."
Yui sat down. "You changed the time without telling anyone."
"It was Haru's idea," she said, nodding toward him. "Something about lunch being too crowded and noisy."
Yui pulled out her flip phone and flipped it open. "Could've said that on Mixi."
"I told Ayumi. That counts," Haru said.
Haruka giggled softly and sat next to Kaito. "This feels like a secret club."
"That's because it is one," Kaito murmured. "A dangerous club with no adult supervision."
They fell into a quiet rhythm — half eating, half talking in hushed tones.
"Anything happen over break?" Yui asked.
Kaito shook his head. "Nothing dangerous. A few spirits crossed over naturally, but no rips. Nothing like the alley."
"Still watching Airi and Daichi?" Ayumi asked casually.
Kaito gave a small nod. "They haven't made a move. But they both give off… something. I still think they might be like us."
"I really hope you're wrong," Haru muttered. "I already can't stand Airi."
Yui blinked. "What'd she do to you?"
"Breathe," Haru said. "Every hallway she walks through turns into a parade. And everyone acts like she invented oxygen."Ayumi leaned in. "Honestly? I get it. She's stuck-up and constantly brags about her looks. I can't stand her either."
"She's not mean, though," Haruka said, trying to be fair."No," Haru admitted. "But that makes it worse."
Yui raised her hands. "Okay, okay. No Airi wars at breakfast." They all fell quiet for a moment. From across the cafeteria, Airi entered with her usual grace — radiant, perfect, and surrounded by whispers. Daichi trailed behind her, hands in his pockets, eyes unreadable as always.
Yui followed their movement with her gaze. "So what if they are like us? Then what?"
"Then we keep an eye on them," Kaito said, voice low. "We don't tell them anything until we're sure they're on our side."
Ayumi nodded. "And if they're not?"
"Then we figure it out," Haru said.No one argued.The bell hadn't rung yet, but suddenly, the air felt heavier.
Airi walked into the cafeteria like she always did — perfectly. Her blazer was crisp, her hair curled neatly at the ends, and her expression unreadably pleasant. A few girls followed behind her, chattering about something or other, clinging to her like decorative accessories.
She wasn't listening. She didn't need to.
Eyes followed her across the room. Compliments came automatically.
"Airi, your hair is so shiny!"
"You're glowing today!"
"Are those new shoes? Ugh, you're such a trendsetter!"
She smiled, gave a polite nod, and went straight to the food counter. Just like always.
Just like normal.
Because normal was everything.
She took her milk and a sweet roll, thanked the cafeteria lady, and sat at her usual table near the windows. Her fan-club girls followed suit, still talking, still expecting her to be the version of herself that fit in every magazine spread — perfect, composed, in control.
But beneath all that polish, something churned.
It started last year.
She was walking home late at night after sneaking out — just a quick breath of air, nothing serious. The streets were empty. The sky was dark and quiet.
Then the sidewalk gave way.
She didn't fall — she clipped. One moment she was walking, the next she was somewhere else entirely. The Limbo. A twisted reflection of the world she knew. Empty, echoing, wrong.A vengeful spirit had come after her. It lunged before she could even scream. She ran, tripped, crawled across cracked tiles and broken sky, and right before its claws tore through her—
She made a wish, a wish without realizing she was being watched by a higher being. She didn't understand what she was saying. She just begged to live. To not die. To be saved.
And like it always did, the Watcher answered.
But wishes to the Watcher came with prices.
She didn't die.
But from that moment on, she became a protector of the border between life and death — cursed to walk a line no one else could see, tied to a world she didn't want.The same as everyone else who made a wish to the Watcher.
But Airi didn't want that life.
She never did.
She didn't care about spirits or "balance" or "duty." She only made the wish because she hadn't wanted to die — and she refused to let it ruin the life she'd built.
She didn't fight spirits. She refused.She never walked anywhere alone anymore. Not even from the school gates to her front door. Even though she knew it didn't really stop anything — she'd still seen flickers of movement in empty alleys. Shadows in store windows.
But she'd noticed something else, too. Spirits don't show up in big crowds.
So Airi had doubled down.
She got more popular. She smiled more. She made sure half the girls in the 7th grade walked home with her — laughing, talking, surrounding her like a wall of noise and normalcy. By the time the crowd thinned, she'd be right in front of her house. Safe.
So far, it had worked.
Now, she sat in the cafeteria with her perfectly folded skirt, holding a milk carton in one hand and smiling like nothing was wrong. But she could feel it — that same cold pull, the pressure in her chest that never really went away.
She looked up.
At the far end of the cafeteria, there they were again — Yui, Ayumi, Haruka, Haru, and that weird kid Kaito.They were always together now. Always whispering. Always looking over their shoulders like they knew exactly what she was pretending not to.
Airi narrowed her eyes slightly.She wasn't sure why, but something about that group made her nervous.
They reminded her of herself.Not the version everyone saw. The version that had crawled across Limbo on her hands and knees, begging not to die.
Daichi Saito sat near the back of the cafeteria, tray untouched in front of him, eyes fixed on the window even though there was nothing interesting outside.
He didn't care much for food in the morning. He didn't care much for mornings, period.
Someone from his class waved at him while passing by. He gave a nod back, just enough not to be rude. That was all they got. No conversation. No smile. They didn't expect more.
He only talked to maybe two people at school, and even those conversations were shallow — answers when he had to, not because he wanted to.
Daichi wasn't interested in friends.
He wasn't like Airi.
He wasn't like the loud ones. The perfect ones. The constantly-laughing groups that moved in clusters down the hallway like schools of fish.
She walked into the cafeteria every day like it was her stage. Blonde hair curled, uniform flawless, smile fake but sharp. People swarmed around her. Compliments fell from every direction.
Daichi didn't look up when she entered.
He never did.
They'd never spoken. Never had a reason to.
But he knew exactly what she was.
Same as him.
Same as that other boy — the one with the glasses. Kaito Tsukino.
He'd known the moment he saw him. There was something behind Kaito's eyes. A tension. A weight. Like they were both holding onto the same burning secret.
Daichi leaned back in his chair, the metal legs creaking quietly. He pulled a book from his bag and opened it, pretending to read.
He wasn't.
His eyes drifted to the corner of the cafeteria, where that group of kids sat again — Kaito with the others. Yui, Haru, Ayumi, Haruka. Talking like they belonged together. Whispering about things no one else could hear.Daichi watched them the way he watched storms roll in. From a distance.
He didn't want to get involved. Not unless he had to.He knew what happened when people got too close to the line between life and death. What it took. What it cost. Some kids panicked. Some pretended it wasn't happening. Some tried to fight back.
Daichi didn't do any of that.
He just watched. Quietly.
And waited for the moment he was needed.
Group Six sat in a makeshift circle of desks, shoved together in the dusty side classroom the school always forgot about. The kind of place where paint peeled off the walls and every chair wobbled differently.
It had been ten minutes.
And everyone already wanted to leave.
"I vote we do environment," Airi said coolly, twirling her pen. "It's clean, simple, and won't give anyone nightmares. Plus, I swear if I get stuck with one of those weird kids who never talk, I'm dropping out."
Kaito stiffened, barely noticeable—unless you were paying attention.
Yui noticed and so did Haru.
"See? This is what I'm talking about," Haru muttered, sitting up straighter.
Airi blinked at him, faux-innocent. "Excuse me?"
"You're literally describing Kaito without using his name," Haru snapped. "Just say you're shallow and go."
"I'm just being honest," Airi said. "Sorry not everyone worships the weird quiet kid."
Ayumi leaned toward Yui and muttered under her breath—loud enough for everyone to hear, "She is such a smug little bitch."
Airi froze, then slowly turned her head. "What did you just say?"
Ayumi didn't flinch. "You heard me."
Airi stood so fast her chair nearly toppled. "You just hide behind all your friends. You're not special. You're just the extra in someone else's story."
Ayumi was on her feet too now, full fury behind her eyes. "Say that again. I dare you."
Airi stepped forward. "You think anyone actually likes you? You cling to Yui like a damn leech because without her, you're just some loudmouth wannabe with nothing going for her. You're not scary. You're pathetic."
Ayumi slammed her chair back. "I'll break your nose."
"I fucking wish you would," Airi snapped, eyes blazing. "Come on, do it. You can't stand that I look better than you, talk better than you, and that everyone likes me more. Jealous little parasite."
Ayumi lunged—
"Stop!!" Yui cried, stepping between them, arms outstretched. Her voice cracked as she forced herself between the two of them.
Her heart pounded.
"Please, just stop!" she begged. "Ayumi—please don't. I don't want you to get hurt!"
Ayumi clenched her jaw, still breathing hard, still staring over Yui's shoulder like she wanted to rip Airi's hair out.
"And you!" Yui turned to Airi, eyes wide with frustration. "You don't have to like us—but stop acting like you're better than everyone. You're not."
Airi's face twitched, just for a second, before she scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Pathetic," she muttered under her breath and turned away, stepping back to her chair.
Ayumi reluctantly dropped back into hers too, still fuming.
Then, from the back corner:
"…This is why I don't work in groups," Daichi said, dry as sandpaper.The whole room turned.He didn't even look up from the desk he was leaning on. "Next time you two wanna act like you're in a soap opera, do it after school."
Haruka said nothing. Kaito was quiet again, staring at his desk.Haru ruffled his hair and sighed. "Ugh, this is gonna be hell."
The tension in the classroom hung like smoke after a fire.
Ayumi's chair scraped violently against the floor as she pushed it back and stormed out without another word. The door clacked behind her, the air in the room finally shifting with her absence.
Yui didn't even hesitate. "I'll go talk to her," she said, shooting Haruka a quick look before slipping out after her.
She found Ayumi pacing in the empty hallway, fists clenched, cheeks flushed with rage.
"Ayumi," Yui called softly.
"I was this close," Ayumi hissed, not looking at her. "I should've hit her. She deserved it."
Yui stepped closer, keeping her voice gentle. "Maybe she did. But you would've been the one in trouble."
Ayumi exhaled hard through her nose. "I hate her."
Yui reached out and lightly touched her arm. "I know. But I don't want you getting hurt. Or suspended."
Ayumi didn't answer at first. Then, with a heavy sigh, she leaned against the wall and slid down until she was sitting with her knees pulled up.
"I just… I don't like how she talks. Like everyone's beneath her. Like you're beneath her. And Kaito? That wasn't okay."
"I know," Yui said, sitting beside her. "But you're not her. You're not cruel."
Ayumi side-eyed her. "She's lucky you stopped me."
Yui gave her a tired smile. "I'll always stop you."
They sat in silence for a moment. The hallway buzzed faintly with fluorescent lights and distant chatter from classrooms. It almost felt normal — like none of the supernatural stuff existed. Just two best friends cooling off after a fight.
"…Ready to go back in?" Yui asked.
Ayumi groaned. "Do I have to?"
"Afraid so."
Inside the Classroom
Back inside, things were quiet. Haru was slumped in his seat, arms crossed, clearly done with everything. Haruka picked at the eraser of her pencil awkwardly.
Kaito looked at the door like he wished he could disappear through it.
And Daichi?
He stood, arms folded, eyes steady.
"Look," he said, voice calm but clear. "I know you guys have your differences. You don't like her. She doesn't like you. That's obvious."
No one argued.
"I respect that. Really. But we're in a situation where we can't not interact. This project is worth a big part of our grade, and like it or not… we've been grouped together. So just—" he looked between Haru and Kaito "—try not to start any fights, okay?"
Haruka nodded quietly.
Haru shrugged. "I didn't throw the first punch."
Kaito looked up. "I get it."
Just then, the door clicked open. Yui peeked in, followed by Ayumi, who looked tired but no longer ready to commit murder.
"We good?" Yui asked carefully.
Daichi nodded once. "For now."
Ayumi sat back in her chair with a dramatic huff. "Whatever. Let's just get this over with."Yui sat too. Tension still buzzed under the surface, but for now… the flames had gone out.
Yui never liked group projects.
They always started the same: awkward silence, too many leaders, and at least one person who thought "supervising" counted as helping. But this was worse. Seven kids shoved into one classroom, desks jammed together in a half-circle like a doomed conference meeting. The windows buzzed faintly with the hum of an old light fixture, and every now and then the table creaked like it was about to collapse under the weight of all their resentment.
Airi Sakura Hoshino sat near the edge, her legs crossed neatly, pen in hand like she was taking notes — she wasn't. She was twirling it, bored out of her mind, occasionally sighing loud enough for people to hear.
Ayumi Suzuki, two seats over, kept glancing her way like she was waiting for a reason.
Yui sat between them, tense as a coiled wire.
Daichi Saito stood near the front of the room, holding the assignment sheet like it was a war strategy map. He was calm. Observant. Distant, even now.
"Okay," he said, voice level. "So Haru leads the second section, Ayumi takes presentation. Kaito—you're writing the intro. Haruka and Yui can do the visuals."
"Visuals?" Haruka repeated. "Like, drawing?"
"Unless someone has a projector," Daichi muttered.
That got a snort from Haru, who was leaning so far back in his chair it was a miracle he hadn't flipped over yet. "This whole thing's gonna crash and burn."
No one laughed.
Yui stared at the table. She hadn't touched her bracelet once since they sat down.
And then the floor cracked.
It wasn't loud — just a tiny fracture, like someone stepping on ice. But the air shifted immediately. Kaito looked up first. His eyes went wide.
"Get away from the table," he said sharply, already standing.
Too late.
The room dropped out from beneath them.
There was no warning. One second, the floor was solid. The next, it shattered — like glass under pressure — and dragged everything down in one chaotic spiral. Desks, chairs, paper, and people were yanked into the void, falling through lightless space like marionettes with their strings cut.
Yui couldn't scream.
She couldn't even breathe.
The darkness swallowed her.
She landed hard.
Her body slammed against something jagged and cold, and for a moment, she thought she was dreaming — or dying — or both.
But then she heard someone groan nearby.
Yui opened her eyes.
Limbo.
The sky above them was a smothered storm of smoky gray, choked with mist and flickers of distant light. The ground was warped, like shattered concrete fused with glass. The classroom table had come through with them, splintered but intact, lying sideways in the dirt. Haruka lay crumpled near it, coughing.
Yui scrambled to her knees, her breath catching in her throat. "Haruka!"
"I'm okay," she wheezed.
Kaito was already on his feet, hair mussed, eyes glowing faintly. His glasses were gone. He looked sharper. Older. He turned slowly, scanning the horizon.
"That tear wasn't natural," he muttered.
Yui barely had time to respond before a shriek ripped through the air — high-pitched and broken, like something had cracked inside it.
Out of the fog came a figure.
No, not a figure — a spirit.
It twisted as it moved, its limbs contorted like melted wax, arms dragging like chains behind it. Its face was featureless, save for a mouth — wide, black, and gaping.
"Transform!" Yui shouted, reaching for her ankle.
Her silver bracelet pulsed.
In a flash of emerald light, her clothes shifted, armor forming across her skin, her hair catching the unnatural wind.
Ayumi wasn't far behind, violet energy snapping to life as her transformation overtook her like a storm surge.
Haru stood tall, already tearing the earring from his lobe. His weapon materialized in a flicker of silver.
And then—
Fire.
Bright and immediate.
It erupted in the air without a single word spoken.
Daichi stood at the center of it, his hand raised, his body engulfed in red and gold light. His transformation looked effortless — practiced. Unlike Kaito's ethereal glow or Haru's wild, jagged energy, Daichi burned with control. Measured. Powerful.
Kaito stared.
"…I knew it," he whispered.
But someone hadn't moved.
Airi.
She was still on the ground, crouched behind the overturned table, her bracelet trembling around her wrist.
Kaito's head snapped toward her. "Airi!"
She didn't answer.
"Airi, you need to get up!" he said, ducking as a blast of spirit energy flew past. "Transform!"
"I can't!" she cried, her voice thin and cracking. "I don't know how!"
"You do! You just haven't done it before!"
Her breathing was fast and shallow. "I made the wish so I wouldn't die! That's all! I didn't sign up for this—!"
"Airi," Kaito said again, softer now, crouching beside her. "I know you're scared. I was too. But you're not alone anymore."
She looked at him, face pale. Her eyes darted past him — toward Ayumi, who was staggering under a hit. Toward Haru, slashing through limbs. Toward Haruka, shielding Yui. And for the first time, none of them were yelling at her.
They were just… fighting, together.
"You don't have to be perfect," Kaito said. "But you could be a really good part of this. They'd see that—if you let them."
Airi's lips parted.
Her fingers hovered over her bracelet.
Then—she yanked it off.
The emerald cracked from the strain, and light burst from the band like a supernova. Warm, soft gold, laced with pink. It wrapped around her in threads, forming a shimmering outfit with sharp boots and delicate detailing. Her transformation felt less like a weapon and more like a veil — graceful, but full of purpose.
She stood.
And she ran.
The spirit didn't stand a chance.
Airi's first strike cracked through its chest like a beam of dawn light. Haru followed it with a crushing swing. Kaito sent a blast of wind that lifted the beast midair. Daichi scorched what was left.
Ayumi lunged and hit the final blow.
And just like that—
It dissolved into ash.
The sky above them rippled.
Then the world ripped open again—violently—and threw them all back through the tear.
————Back in the Classroom——-
Yui landed flat on her back.
The lights were buzzing again. The windows were fine. The desks were upright. Everything was back.Except for the silence. No one spoke. No one moved.Until Airi sat up and looked around.
"I've never transformed before," she said quietly. "I didn't want to. I was scared. I only made that wish so I wouldn't die last year. I never wanted this life."
She looked directly at Ayumi. Her voice trembled. "You were right about me."
Ayumi's eyes flicked to Yui, then back to Airi.
"…I was being immature," Ayumi said finally. "I still don't like you, but—you're not all that bad."Airi gave a small smile. "I'll take it."
Haru exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his head. His eyes met Airi's.
"…Thanks for helping…" he muttered.
Airi blinked, startled.
And smiled again — not the smug one, but something softer. Real.
Kaito leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.
The seven of them landed with a thud, bodies hitting the classroom floor like laundry tossed from a moving car. Yui rolled onto her side, heart still pounding, ears ringing with the memory of screaming spirits and pulsing emerald light. She wasn't even sure how long they'd been gone. A minute? An hour?
But when she opened her eyes, they were back.
The classroom was the same.
Sort of.
The fluorescent lights buzzed weakly overhead, flickering like they were fighting to stay alive. The air felt too warm, too stale. The desks were still there—except the one they'd been working at. That table was gone, completely vanished. Along with four chairs. In their place: a stretch of empty tile, some scattered papers, and a sick burn mark where the legs used to be.
Ayumi sat up slowly, brushing hair out of her face. "Tell me that table didn't just disintegrate."
Haruka stared at the spot where it used to be. "It's literally gone."
"The chairs are gone too," Kaito muttered, adjusting his now-cracked glasses. "I don't even know if they made it back."Daichi exhaled through his nose. "They didn't." Yui pulled herself to her knees, eyes wide. "Are we going to get in trouble for this?"
"We can say we moved it for cleaning," Haruka offered.
"Where's the table then?" Ayumi said flatly. "The incinerator?"
Haruka folded her arms. "I didn't say it was a good lie."
Footsteps approached.
The classroom door creaked open.
Mr. Kinoshita stepped in with a clipboard under one arm and a pen in his hand. He looked up, blinked once, and froze mid-step. His eyes swept across the seven students—rumpled, sweaty, still catching their breath—then down to the empty patch of floor where a whole group workspace had just… vanished.
He glanced at the singed tile.
Then at the students again.
"What happened to the table?" he asked. Completely flat. No emotion.
Haru didn't blink. "We had a disagreement."
"With a blowtorch?" the teacher deadpanned.
Ayumi rubbed the bridge of her nose.
"There was an… accident," Daichi offered. Calm. Even. "It got out of hand."
Mr. Kinoshita stared at him.
Daichi stared back.
Yui swallowed.
"…I see," the teacher said at last. "All seven of you. After school. You're staying to clean this mess. I don't want excuses, I want the room returned to normal by the end of the day."
Haruka made a small, pitiful sound.
"Also," Mr. Kinoshita added as he turned toward the door, "two-page incident report. Handwritten. Due tomorrow morning."
The door shut behind him.
Silence.
Ayumi groaned "I'm not writing two pages about a desk falling into ghost hell."
"You'll write it," Haru said. "Or I'll write it for you and say you started the fire."
"There was no fire."
"There almost was."
Haruka groaned and sat on the floor, face in her hands. "We lost the table, got detention, and still have to finish the project."
Airi didn't say anything. She was sitting near the back of the room, legs pulled up, her head bowed like she was waiting for someone to yell at her again.They didn't.Eventually, Kaito let out a breath and crouched beside her. "You okay?"
She nodded. Didn't look up.Haru glanced at her. Then at Ayumi. He didn't say anything either. But he didn't roll his eyes this time.