Aya dragged her feet through the school gates, a yawn nearly splitting her face in half. Her hair was slightly messy, her uniform collar crooked, and her bag lazily slung across one shoulder.
"Ughhh, mornings should be illegal…" she muttered, shuffling forward like a zombie.
But the sight at the gate jolted her awake—a strict-looking Achogi standing guard like a warden, clipboard and pen in hand, her sharp eyes darting up from the list just in time to catch Aya in her sights.
"There you are!" Achogi snapped, grabbing Aya by the wrist before she could sneak past.
"Eek! Wha–what's the matter?!" Aya yelped, stumbling as she was dragged toward the gate.
"The matter," Achogi said with the voice of judgment itself, "is that you're late. You should've been here early for the trip. Where is your luggage? And why are you… wearing the school uniform?!"
Aya blinked. The words slowly sank in. Her heart froze.
The school trip.
Her jaw dropped. "...Oh no." She slapped her forehead so hard it echoed. "I completely forgot!"
Achogi sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose like this wasn't the first time. "Honestly… good thing I always prepare for disasters like you." She swung a small suitcase forward and pressed it into Aya's hands.
Aya stared. "Wait, you… brought an extra? For me?"
"It happens more than you think," Achogi muttered, though a faint blush betrayed her cool tone.
Aya's eyes watered dramatically. She hugged Achogi tight, burying her face into her shoulder. "You're my savior! My guardian angel! My—"
"Okay, okay, enough already!" Achogi shoved her off, cheeks red. Then she turned serious, tugging Aya toward the courtyard. "Now quit wasting time and line up with your class!"
The courtyard buzzed with excitement. Students clustered together, chatting and laughing as teachers wrangled them into neat rows. Suitcases lined the pavement, colorful and clunky, as buses rumbled in the background.
Aya hurried to her class lineup, her suitcase clattering against the ground as she dragged it into place. The teachers began calling out names one by one, ushering students to load their luggage into the compartments beneath the buses.
As she waited her turn, Aya glanced around curiously. That's when she spotted him.
Chol stood by the second bus, his posture calm but detached, carrying a dark suitcase with casual ease. He placed it neatly into the storage compartment before stepping onto the bus, disappearing behind the tinted windows.
Aya blinked, a strange flutter of curiosity stirring in her chest. She gripped the handle of her borrowed suitcase a little tighter, then stepped forward when her name was called. With an awkward grunt, she slid her luggage into the pile, then climbed onto the bus.
The bus rattled along the road, stuffed full of chatter and laughter. Some students sang loud, half-in-tune songs, clapping and drumming on the seat backs. Others leaned over the aisles trading snacks or gossip, their voices carrying over the hum of the engine. A group in the back had started a word game, erupting into cheers and groans with every turn.
Aya, however, slouched in her seat like a ragdoll, staring at the dark screen of her phone. The battery bar had been a single red sliver that morning. Now it was dead. She sighed in defeat and dropped the device into her lap, pressing her forehead against the cool glass of the window.
The seat beside her dipped. "You really are hopeless," Achogi said as she slid in neatly, crossing her legs.
Aya groaned without lifting her head.
"You were about to nap, weren't you?" Achogi smirked. "I'm not waking you up if you miss something. You sleep like a rock."
Aya rolled her eyes. "Yeah, thanks for the warning, mom."
For a moment, the noise of the bus filled the silence between them. Then Achogi's tone softened. "You know… since yesterday, you've looked pale. Off. I don't like it."
Aya kept her forehead against the glass, her reflection dull in the window. "…Do you think two people can look exactly the same, but not be the same person?"
Achogi blinked. "What? Uh—yes? It's called twins."
"No, no, not that," Aya muttered, squeezing her hands together. "I mean… someone who reminds you of a person. Not just a little—like, ninety-nine point nine percent. The same face, the same aura. But you know they can't be the same. Have you ever felt that?"
Achogi stared at her. Deadpan. "…Girl. Articulate, please."
Aya opened her mouth to explain, but the words tangled. How could she describe that stomach-twisting recognition, the ache of seeing a ghost in flesh? She let her head thump lightly against the glass instead. "Forget it. I'll… explain later. When I have the brain energy."
Achogi pursed her lips, clearly unconvinced, but she leaned back with a sigh. "Fine. But if you're just going to sulk all ride, I'm not letting you drag me down too." Her eyes gleamed with mischief. "Game time."
Aya peeked suspiciously at her. "Game?"
"Word chain," Achogi declared, smirking. "You start. Last syllable becomes my first syllable. Loser buys drinks when we get to the island."
Aya groaned. "You're relentless." But despite herself, she played. And for a while, they tossed words back and forth, Aya fumbling and laughing whenever she lost, Achogi grinning triumphantly as if conquering the world one syllable at a time. The game pulled Aya up from her slump, even if only a little.
By the time the buses rolled to a stop, the students spilled out buzzing with energy. The evening air smelled faintly of salt; the sea stretched out ahead, glittering under the low sun. A sleek ferry loomed at the dock, teachers already barking orders for students to line up and load luggage.
Achogi moved with practiced ease, clipboard in hand, directing her classmates alongside the teachers. "Line up here! Don't block the boarding path! Keep your tickets ready!" she called, every inch the perfect class president. Aya dragged her suitcase into the queue, watching Achogi juggle responsibility with brisk confidence.
The boarding went smoothly. Students funneled onto the ferry, claiming seats in groups. Aya ended up sitting with her own class's girls, clustered together at a row of benches near the wide windows. With Achogi tied up in government duties elsewhere, Aya found herself quiet again, resting her head against the glass as the vessel thrummed to life.
The ferry slid from the dock, carving across the darkening waves. The air carried the scent of saltwater, and beyond the glass the sun bled slowly into the horizon. Streaks of orange and violet painted the sky, reflecting over the restless sea. Aya's eyes drooped as she watched it all blur together.
But then—something.
High above, a faint glimmer. Not a star, not yet. A flicker of red, glowing against the indigo sky. It grew brighter, descending in an almost deliberate path.The streak cut across the sky, trailing faint sparks until it vanished beyond the outline of the island's mountains.
Far inland, the red light slammed into a dense mountainside forest, the impact muted but sharp enough to disturb the night's stillness. Smoke curled as dirt and stone scattered, leaving a shallow crater.
At the crater's heart lay a cracked, blackened rock. From within its jagged lines seeped something foul—an ooze like tar, writhing, pulsing, almost alive. It spilled slowly outward, thick and glistening, twitching as if seeking form.
Something inside it… was stirring.
*********
The bus rumbled to a stop at the foot of the mountainside lodge just past nine. By then, most of the students were slouched against the windows, lulled into a half-sleep by the ride, but when the teachers called for everyone to get down and line up, chatter returned. Lanterns strung along the gravel path lit the way, the night air cool enough to sting their skin after the warmth inside the bus.
Aya stretched her arms overhead and took in the lodge. It wasn't grand, but solid — two long wings branching from a central hall, the girls' section on one side, the boys' on the other, both tucked neatly against the rising slope. Beyond it, the woods climbed into shadows, swallowing the mountain in darkness.
They were herded through a brief round of instructions: luggage carried in, shoes placed neatly, groups assigned to their rooms. Achogi, as class president, was already moving up and down the line, keeping order in that annoyingly efficient way of his. Aya's group of four was directed to the bottom floor, where their room opened out onto a strip of stone walkway not far from the trees.
Inside, the room was plain but tidy. Four futons laid out side by side, a low table in the corner, and just enough space for bags to be stacked. The sound of muffled laughter and doors sliding shut echoed up and down the hall as the class settled in. Aya unpacked her things without much thought, neatly folding her clothes into the drawer she'd claimed. She went for a quick shower, the hot water easing the stiffness of the long ride. By the time she came back out, the others in her group were already winding down.
Not long after, the teachers gathered everyone in the main hall. Standing under the dim lights, they ran through the rules: curfew at ten, no wandering off, keep voices low, respect the lodge staff. Achogi and the other class representatives stood beside them, nodding with an air of importance. Aya listened half-heartedly, already drowsy from the heat of the shower.
Back in their room, the girls fussed with their bedding and whispered for a while, but eventually the lights went out. One by one, the quiet breathing of her roommates filled the dark.
Except Aya couldn't sleep.
She lay still with her eyes shut, but her mind refused to switch off. Thoughts shuffled restlessly in her head, nothing important, just fragments of conversation, memories of the day, the uncomfortable awareness that she was still wide awake when everyone else was already gone. She hated this. Hated when her body felt exhausted, yet her mind wouldn't listen.
With a frustrated sigh, she sat up, hugging her knees to her chest. Maybe stretching would help. Sometimes it did. She padded softly to the window, the cool wood under her feet grounding her a little. She pushed the curtain aside, letting the faint silver wash of moonlight spill in.
That was when she noticed it.
A faint light, moving outside — not bright enough to be a lantern, more like the glow of a phone screen. Aya leaned closer to the glass, frowning. Someone was sneaking out. At first she thought, of course, one of those idiots who can't go a night without breaking rules. But then the light shifted, and in its reflection she caught sight of the boy holding it.
Chol.
She watched him step away from the boys' wing, slow and deliberate, as if making sure he wasn't followed.
Her first thought: Why?
Her second: Should I…?
And before the third thought could form — before logic could pull her back — her body was already moving. She slid the window open just enough, squeezed through, and dropped quietly onto the ground outside. The air bit colder here, the gravel shifting under her feet. She stumbled at first, catching herself with a muted hiss. Only then did she realize she'd left her phone inside, charging on the table. The night was much darker than she'd expected.
Aya hesitated, breath puffing in the chill. She could still climb back in, slip under her blanket, forget she saw anything. That would be the smart choice.
But curiosity gnawed sharper. She told herself it was just… making sure. Just checking that Chol wasn't doing something reckless. Just a few steps after him, no more.
Her gaze fixed on the dim glow ahead, already pulling her forward. Aya drew her arms tight across her chest, took a breath, and followed.