"What can we do… to pass on to the next life?" Sayoko's voice trembled, barely above a whisper. Her hands were curled into fists, knuckles pale as she stared at the empty air in front of her.
Takuto, standing a short step behind her, spoke with a calm but firm tone. "We need to make peace with our regrets. Only then can we move on."
Sayoko's brows knit tightly. "That's easy for you to say… but the truth is, I can't remember anything. Just fragments—myself, my parents, and a handful of others. Everything else is a blur." Her voice carried frustration, and the way her shoulders slumped made her look trapped inside a fog she couldn't escape.
Takuto folded his arms, expression steady. "Then the first step is simple. You need to remember the people you knew when you were alive. Once you recall them, you'll also remember the regrets tied to them."
Sayoko turned, eyes narrowing. "And what about you? Do you remember?"
A faint sigh escaped Takuto's lips. "Not much either. But… our ties to others matter. One of them might even be your killer."
Her eyes widened, and she recoiled a step. "What? No… No one I knew would hurt me! They were all kind, every single one of them."
Takuto's gaze sharpened, his tone pressing but never harsh. "Think carefully. Did anyone ever say something… anything about killing you? Or show malice toward you?"
Sayoko hugged her arms against herself, shaking her head. "I can't remember much of anyone. My parents… they'd never harm me. That's out of the question." She stood in silence, lips trembling as she forced herself to dig deeper into her mind.
Her eyes flickered suddenly. "Wait—!"
Takuto leaned in, attentive.
"I remember now," Sayoko said, her voice low at first. "Back in my second year… I… I reported someone. A classmate's father."
Her fists trembled. "I caught him in the music room, after school… with one of my classmates. He was—" She stopped, swallowing hard, voice shaking. "…forcing himself on her."
"I recorded it… showed the principal… he was fired, arrested. Six years in prison."
Her voice dropped. "…But his son… he swore he would kill me. And I think… maybe he meant it."
Takuto's lips curved into a grim line. "So we finally have a lead."
Sayoko breathed unevenly, trying to calm herself.
"Do you know where he is now?" Takuto asked, voice low.
Sayoko shut her eyes, concentrating. "His mother was a businesswoman. If I'm right… maybe he took over her work. Or he's at least helping her."
Takuto gave a sharp nod. "Then we start with him."
The two of them turned from the school grounds. Sayoko's form wavered faintly as she moved, like a mist shifting under sunlight.
Meanwhile, inside a classroom, Kōki Takeda sat slouched at his desk, chin propped against his palm. His black bangs fell slightly into his eyes as he yawned.
"Ugh… why did I even come today?" he muttered under his breath, glancing at the chalkboard where the teacher droned on. "This class is so boring… I'm gonna fall asleep any minute now."
He shifted his gaze out the window lazily. Then his eyes caught movement—two figures walking across the school grounds.
Kōki blinked. "Huh? Who'd be skipping class now?" His tone was sarcastic, but his eyes narrowed. "Seriously… during lesson time?"
He squinted, watching closer. "Wait…" His heart picked up pace. The girl's outline, her long black hair swaying lightly as she walked beside the boy—something about it clawed at his memory.
"Could it be…?" His breath caught. Then the recognition slammed into him. "That's… Sayoko?"
The name left his lips in disbelief. His body moved before his mind could catch up. He shoved his chair back, shooting to his feet.
"Takeda, where are you going?" the teacher barked sharply.
"Bathroom!" Kōki yelled back without hesitation, already rushing toward the door.
"Eh?!" The entire class erupted. Chairs screeched as boys leaned forward, smirking.
"Oii, Takeda's about to destroy the restroom!" one boy cackled.
"no, I bet Takeda's just ditching class again" another boy snickered.
"Gross! Couldn't he say it normally?!" a girl shrieked, covering her face with her notebook.
The teacher slammed her hand against the desk. "I did not give you permission to leave! Get back here this instant!"
But Kōki was already gone, footsteps echoing down the hall.
At the back of the class, a quiet girl with pale skin sat hunched over her desk. Her eyes were heavy, weighed down by lack of sleep. Her hand trembled as she gripped her pen.
Her eyelids drooped. Darkness pulled at her mind.
"No… no… not again—" Her trembling hand jerked, and she drove the pen's tip into her arm. The point dug into her skin with a muffled stab, and a thin line of blood surfaced.
She gasped, clenching her sleeve around the wound. Her whole body trembled as she whispered, "If I fall asleep… I'll see it again…"
For a brief second, her eyes flicked toward the empty desk where Kōki had been sitting. Then she lowered her gaze quickly, clutching her arm tighter.
But no one around noticed. Everyone else was too busy watching the commotion about Kōki's sudden exit.
Kōki's sneakers slapped against the floor as he bolted down the corridor, his breathing uneven. His thoughts spun wildly.
"It can't be… Sayoko… she died five years ago. I remember clearly." His pulse hammered, his chest tight. "I was eleven. She used to visit my house… always hanging out with my sister. I used to just watch from the corner, too shy to even talk to her."
He clenched his teeth, his pace quickening. "But when I turned twelve… she was gone. Dead. There's no mistake."
He burst through the school entrance doors and skidded to a stop, eyes darting across the grounds.
His breath hitched. Two figures stood ahead. Sayoko and Takuto… walking calmly, their movements almost too smooth, too quiet.
Kōki froze, the blood draining from his face.
"No way… did they just… walk through the wall?!" he whispered hoarsely, watching them vanish into the business building across the street. "I'm either dreaming… or I've completely lost it."
Inside the office building, Sayoko's eyes scanned the interior. "This is where his mother worked," she said quietly, pointing ahead.
Takuto nodded once. "Let's go."
Both of them stepped forward, their ghostly forms gliding through the front desk and lobby walls like mist dispersing into air.
On the other side, a man sat at his desk, typing. His hair was neater now, his frame filled out—no longer the boy they remembered.
"There…" Sayoko pointed. "That's him. That's Arata."
Takuto observed him with a cautious gaze.
Arata leaned back in his chair with a tired sigh, stretching his arms overhead. His desk was neat, but Sayoko's eyes froze on the small picture frame propped near his keyboard.
Her chest tightened. "…That photo."
Takuto looked at her, sensing the shift in her voice.
"That's me. That was when we were kids…" Sayoko's lips parted slightly, trembling.
"In my second year… after his father's arrest… we fought. He severed all ties with me. I thought he hated me. Maybe… maybe that's the regret that's kept me here all this time."
Arata's voice dropped to a whisper as he held the frame closer. His thumb brushed across the glass, lingering on Sayoko's smiling face.
"…Why did you have to go, Sayoko?" His voice broke, shoulders trembling. "You don't know how empty it's been. Day after day… the same silence. I never even had the chance to tell you…"
His hand clenched around the frame. "…how much I loved you."
Tears welled in his eyes, sliding down his cheeks as he set the frame back onto the desk.
Sayoko's lips quivered, her vision blurring faintly. Relief and sorrow mixed in her chest, tightening her throat.
"…Let's go, Takuto." Her voice was strained. "He's not the one."
Takuto's brows furrowed. "You're sure?"
Sayoko nodded firmly, though her shoulders trembled. "He doesn't hate me. That much is clear. But I'm still here, so… something else is holding me back."
The two turned, their bodies fading slightly as they stepped back through the office wall.
On the street outside, Kōki stood frozen in place, his eyes wide as the two figures emerged right through the wall beside him. His entire body stiffened, then jolted backward.
Kōki's breath caught in his throat as the two figures phased cleanly through the wall, stepping into the sunlight.
His legs buckled. "N-no way… that… that's not possible!" His voice rose into a frantic shout. "They're… they're really GHOSTS?!"
The words tore out of him, echoing down the quiet street. He stumbled back two steps, clutching his chest as if to steady his racing heart.
Sayoko's eyes widened, her mouth parting in shock. "…Kōki?"
The boy stumbled back, panic surging in his chest.
Sayoko stepped toward him, her hands reaching out instinctively.
"Stay away from me!" Kōki's shout was raw, his face pale as he turned and bolted down the street.
Sayoko froze, her outstretched hand trembling.
"…He saw us," she whispered, her voice fragile with disbelief.
Takuto's eyes followed Kōki's retreating form, his tone uncertain. "It seems… he can."
The air around them grew heavier, the unanswered questions pressing down harder than before.
For the first time since her death, Sayoko realized—
They were no longer alone in their search for the truth.