16:11 PM – August 23, 2009
Japan • Nara City • Heijo High School (平城高等学校, Heijō Kōtō Gakkō)
"I hope there's something 'good' to find there..."
Satou muttered to himself as he flipped his phone shut—a sleek black flip phone with a skull design, its hollow eyes overgrown with a thorned rose. The only sticker on its back, a subtle yet edgy statement. A small black rose keychain dangled from the side, further reflecting his aesthetic.
Dark. Edgy. Yet, effortlessly stylish.
He slipped the phone into his pocket
His taste wasn't unique. The early 2000s had been a golden era for the 'gothic,' 'emo,' and 'punk hazard' subcultures, trends heavily influenced by Western alternative fashion. The movement had spread across the world, seeping into student culture—even in Japan. Satou, like many others, had been drawn to it. Though, unlike them, his fascination wasn't just about fashion. It was a quiet rebellion, a subtle expression of his isolation.
Spending his free time browsing through magazines at convenience stores—flipping through pages before putting them back, never actually buying—was one of his small pastimes. A fleeting escape while wandering through the city's quiet streets at night.
Satou exhaled softly and stood up, gathering his belongings.
Before He pulled out a tissue from his pocket and began wiping his desk, his movements slow but deliberate.
Even though he was the only one left in the classroom, he treated it like a ritual.
A small habit. A lingering compulsion.
The desk wasn't particularly dirty, but it still carried faint marks—smudges of ink, old eraser shavings, a slight dent from where he had once slammed his fist in frustration.
He exhaled softly through his nose, pressing harder as he wiped over the worn-out spot.
"...Tch."
It wasn't just about the desk. It was about control. About erasing things.
About making sure there was nothing left behind.
Once satisfied, he crumpled the tissue in his palm. Just as he was about to leave—
SLAM!
The classroom door slid open violently, the sound jolting him slightly.
"A-ahhh... gosh, I thought the classroom was locked! Thank God there's still someone here—!"
The sudden outburst made Satou tense for a moment. He looked up, his dull purple eyes narrowing slightly.
A girl stood at the entrance, slightly out of breath. Her voice was light, a little breathless from running.
Anna Kikyo.
His classmate. An ordinary high school girl with an annoyingly cheerful personality. Talkative, easygoing, and well-liked by everyone. If there was a ranking for "Most Friendly Student," she'd probably be at the top. Her tall frame—around 162 cm—was complemented by dark raven-blue hair tied into a high ponytail, two loose strands framing her face.
A classmate. Someone he barely interacted with.
She caught sight of him. "Ahh—umm, hey there!"
She gave a quick, casual greeting as she walked past him, heading straight to her desk in the front row. Without hesitation, she knelt down, peering into her desk drawer, rummaging through it with a focused look.
Satou, slightly taken aback by the sudden intrusion, blinked before quickly composing himself.
"…Hey."
His response was flat, distant. He wasn't interested in whatever she was doing. He simply turned his attention back to his desk, methodically wiping the surface with a sanitized tissue.
Neatness was a habit for him. He hadn't shared this desk with anyone, so keeping it clean was his own small ritual before leaving.
Still, his mind wasn't on the desk.
'Battery, flashlight, pocket knife…'
He mentally went over his checklist. He had to make sure everything was ready for tonight's exploration.
"Ahh! There it is! Found ya!"
Anna's sudden exclamation cut through his thoughts like a sharp blade.
Satou flinched slightly, the unexpected yelp making his fingers tighten around the tissue. His dull purple eyes flicked toward her in mild annoyance.
There she was—grinning like an idiot, holding up her phone as if it were some sort of lost treasure.
He finished cleaning, crumpling the used tissue in his palm before slinging his satchel strap over his shoulder. With a lazy toss, the tissue landed in the trash bin. He spared Anna a single glance—more out of habit than curiosity—before stepping out through the back door of the classroom.
The hallway stretched ahead, dimly lit by the soft glow of the afternoon sun filtering through the windows. It was eerily quiet. The samecorridor that was always packed during school hours, filled with chatter, laughter, and the mindless social interactions of his peers…
He hated it.
A small voice in his mind whispered, nagging at him.
Satou's grip on his satchel strap tightened slightly as he walked, his gaze lowering to the floor.
'I don't belong here.'
He knew that feeling all too well.
The pressure of fitting into society. The pressure to connect with people. The weight of expectations pressing down on his shoulders like an invisible force, suffocating him every time he remembered things that should have long been forgotten.
Satou had long accepted his solitude. He wasn't sure if his life was worth living—not in a depressing way, but more in an indifferent sense. The pressure to fit in, to connect, to be someone in society—it never interested him. He was fine being unnoticed, fading into the background.
But sometimes… just sometimes… it gnawed at him.
"...What the hell am I even worrying about?"
He shook his head, shaking away the unnecessary thoughts.
'Focus on the plan.'
Right now, he had more important things to focus on—his night exploration.
His fingers slipped into his pocket, pulling out his flip phone. Navigating through the keypad, he opened the gallery and clicked on the screenshot of the abandoned asylum in Kyoto.
As he descended the stairs to the school's ground floor, he skimmed over the details again.
A single low-resolution image appeared on the screen.
An abandoned asylum.
Rumored ghost sightings.
A tragic past involving wartime patients.
A gray-haired girl spotted in the windows.
His gaze lingered on the low-resolution image of the building—pixelated, grainy, but still enough to stir a sense of anticipation.
"Kyoto, huh? Should be about a ten-to-seventeen-minute walk to the station… or five-to-nine minutes if I run."
A small smirk tugged at his lips.
"Let's see if this place is as 'haunted' as people claim."
Satou's eyes scanned the text as he descended the stairs, leaving the school building behind. The encounter with Anna Kikyo already fading from his mind.
With that, he flipped his phone shut.
Clip.
And just like that, Anna Kikyo was already forgotten.
She was probably still in the classroom, hugging her phone like some kind of treasure.
Maybe she was grinning at the screen, admiring some stupid text or wallpaper.
Maybe she was hugging it like some sentimental fool, as if it held some deep meaning.
Maybe she was talking to herself, muttering nonsenseabout how she'd 'never lose it again' like it was some precious relic.
Typical.
He smirked to himself.
Not like it mattered.
Tonight, the real world wouldn't matter.
Only the ghosts would.