The final chime of the school bell carried a strange weight, echoing through the quiet corridors as students packed their bags and drifted home. The classroom emptied quickly, voices fading into the hum of the late afternoon.
Hayato lingered at his desk, pretending to organize his notes. In truth, he was waiting.
Sure enough, Aiko appeared by the doorway, her bag slung over her shoulder. She glanced at him with that easy smile of hers—the one that always felt like it hid more than it revealed.
"Still here?" she asked.
"Yeah. Just… taking my time," Hayato replied.
Her eyes flickered toward the windows, where the sky had begun to blush with orange. "Then let's go," she said simply.
It wasn't a question.
Hayato followed her through the dim corridors, his steps echoing in rhythm with hers. The school always felt different after hours—emptier, quieter, like it belonged to another world. And at the center of that world, waiting for them as always, was the west stairwell.
The air grew cooler as they approached. Shadows gathered at the corners, and the faint scent of dust hung in the stillness. Aiko paused at the landing, peering down into the stairwell as though daring it to reveal its secrets.
"Still creepy," she murmured.
Hayato swallowed. "We don't have to—"
"Of course we do," she interrupted lightly, though her voice was softer this time. She turned to him with a half-smile. "It wouldn't be our spot if we didn't."
Our spot.
The words lodged in his chest, warm and terrifying all at once.
They stood there for a while, listening. The silence was almost too perfect, pressing in around them. Then, faintly, a sound drifted upward again.
Whisper…
Hayato stiffened. It was impossible to tell if it was the wind through the cracks of the old stairwell—or something else entirely.
Aiko leaned closer to him without realizing it, her sleeve brushing his. "Did you hear that?" she whispered.
"…Yeah."
Her hand lingered by his, close enough that one small movement could close the distance. The silence around them seemed to hold its breath, waiting.
Hayato's fingers twitched. If I just move my hand…
But before courage could catch up with his thoughts, a door slammed somewhere down the corridor. The spell broke instantly.
Aiko laughed nervously, stepping back. "Guess the ghosts don't want us getting too comfortable," she said, trying to sound casual.
Hayato forced a small smile, but inside, his chest ached with the weight of everything left unsaid.
As they walked away from the stairwell, the whispers seemed to follow, curling at the edge of hearing—like unfinished sentences waiting to be spoken.