Tap—tap—*
In the pitch-black hallway, where even a slight distance rendered everything invisible, faint footsteps echoed outward.
Takakai suppressed even the sound of his breathing, moving forward step by cautious step, his senses sharpened to the extreme. At the slightest sign of danger, he was ready to bolt.
Beside him, miko clung close, nearly pressing against him without realizing it, simply following in sync.
Further back, Hitori maintained some distance, clearly still uncomfortable with group movement. Her posture was tense, like a small animal on high alert.
Ahead and behind them, two figures resembling Hitori—about 70% similar—walked in formation. One scouted the path forward, while the other guarded against potential ambushes from the rear.
Takakai had said it before, but he'd say it again: Hitori's memento guitar was *incredibly* useful. Compared to his two Crimson Moon-grade blessings, its versatility was unmatched. Not that his blessings were bad—it was just human nature to covet what one didn't have. Right now, Takakai was *extremely* envious of that guitar.
That said, he had no intention of taking it. A memento requiring professional skill to use was, in his eyes, more trouble than it was worth. He couldn't match Hitori's ability to flawlessly play the guitar under any circumstances, even with injected expertise. Some gaps were just innate.
*One quarter explored. Nothing found yet.*
Reaching the hallway's corner, he mentally noted their progress.
The main building followed a typical rectangular layout, divisible into four sections. The trio had just cleared the corridor branching from the stairwell.
Turning here would lead them past Class 2-6, 2-7, and 2-8, then another turn would take them to the second stairwell and Classes 2-9 through 2-13.
So far, every classroom door had been firmly locked. No withered plants, no anomalies—just the oppressive gloom of the darkened hallways. Unnerving, but not enough to deter them.
*Haa…*
He exhaled softly, his footsteps now nearly silent as he focused entirely on his surroundings.
Behind him, miko matched his caution but couldn't suppress her steps as well. Though she hadn't *seen* anything yet, her instincts screamed that something was deeply wrong here. Her heart pounded wildly. Without takakai leading, she'd never have made it this far.
"W-wait, stop!"
Hitori suddenly spoke up, signaling takakai and miko to halt.
Nervously, she plucked a single string, then played a short, simple melody while watching her forward scout.
Less than three seconds later, her face paled. She immediately yanked takakai and miko back, then rapidly strummed again—sending the rear guard forward past them.
*Trouble?*
Takakai glanced at miko, but she looked just as confused.
*miko didn't notice anything. Is the threat invisible?*
Without hesitation, takakai grabbed miko and bolted after Hitori. If she was too panicked to explain, asking questions now would waste precious time. *Move first, think later.*
In seconds, they'd retreated to the stairwell entrance.
Only then did Hitori stop, finishing her melody with a shaky breath before turning to takakai.
"Th-the clones… I lost control. They won't listen."
It took her a few seconds to force out even that much.
H
Takakai's mind raced. "Something hijacked them? Can you still sense them?"
Hitori nodded, then shook her head vigorously, her expression twisting in confusion.
This had never happened before. Normally, her clones died to anomalies following their rules—but they were *never* hijacked. As extensions of a Crimson Moon-grade memento, their existence was too potent for easy interference.
Yet just now, while playing, she'd realized the forward clone no longer obeyed her. Something had *stolen* control.
At first, she hadn't even noticed. The clone kept scouting exactly as ordered—no visible discrepancies.
But Hitori had a habit of adding tiny, unnecessary movements—scratching her head, sighing, adjusting her grip. These quirks made the clones seem more "real." And it was this very habit that exposed the hijacking.
The moment she realized it, the mental link shattered entirely. The clone was no longer hers.
Whatever stood ahead now was an *unknown.*
Though she couldn't articulate it well, Hitori's instincts screamed *danger.* She'd sent the remaining clone forward as a sacrifice while they fled.
Thankfully, takakai knew her well enough to extract info through yes/no questions.
"Can you still use the guitar normally?"
*Nod.*
"Is staying on this floor dangerous?"
*Hesitation, then a firm nod.*
"Can you pinpoint where the threat is? Is the path we retreated through unsafe?"
*Shake, then nod.*
No further questions needed. Hiroshi immediately gestured toward the opposite stairwell.
The original stairs were compromised—whatever lurked above had been too close when they fled. Doubling back risked a direct encounter. Their only option was the other staircase.
Their new path led past two restrooms and two staff rooms. It avoided the compromised area, but whether they'd reach the third floor safely was anyone's guess.
*Tap—*
Their footsteps echoed louder than expected in the darkened hall.
**[■■…■■■…]**
A sound slithered through the darkness.
Hiroshi couldn't identify it—or its source.
Only a primal dread crawled up his spine.
Something had noticed them.
Something was *approaching.*
"Ugh…!"
Mijko let out a whimper.
She *heard* it.
Malicious laughter. Tormented sobs. Twisting together into a grotesque chorus.
**[Haha, crying again? Does she ever do anything else?]**
**[I'm sorry… I'm sorry…]**
**[So boring. Let's make it fun—strip her and lock her in the classroom. I wonder what the first person tomorrow will think~]**
**[No… please…]**
**[Oh, it's 5°C today. Let's give her a "bath" with some cold water, yeah?]**
**[Stop… don't…]**
The laughter swelled. The crying faded.
The voices seemed to emanate from a classroom—but miko felt them *moving closer.* Fast.
No—it was like they were *already* outside that room. Like the bullying was happening just beyond the wall. One step forward, and they'd see it.
"STOP! Don't move!"
Miko's shout tore through the air.
Takakai froze instantly. Hitori, less experienced with teamwork, took another step before takakai yanked her back.
Only then did takakai realize—
They weren't in the hallway anymore.
Somehow, they'd been transported beside an open classroom door, its interior a void of darkness. One more step, and they'd cross the threshold.
*When did we get here?! Spatial displacement? Or—*
Cold sweat dripped down Hiroshi's temple.
He checked the doorplate: **Class 2-10.**
From inside came the sound of muffled sobs—someone hiding, broken.
But that wasn't what made his blood run cold.
Turning around, he saw them.
Figures in school uniforms. Standing in the darkness. Watching. Smiling. Whispering.
**[■■?]**
Then—**crimson light erupted.**
In an instant, the entire floor drowned in a blood-red glow.
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