June 29, 2024
It was a Saturday, and the halls of the University of Mikhail were quieter than usual. I was on my way to the boys' locker room when I noticed a junior pinning posters to the wall. That was already against policy—no posters without a signed permit from the head and from me. And juniors had no business loitering around the senior high school wing.
I tapped her shoulder gently."Excuse me, you're not allowed to post these unless you have a permit," I explained calmly.
"O-oh… sorry, I… I just—" Her voice cracked.
I glanced at the poster.
Missing. Please call this number if found: 09********.*
I narrowed my eyes. The girl looked small, fragile, her eyes swollen."Is she your twin?" I asked softly.
"Yes." Her throat was sore, her voice trembling.
"Where did you last see her?"
"The greenhouse—Greenhouse 1. I never saw her leave. She always rings my phone when she does." Her words were shaky, as if each one dragged pieces of her soul out of her. Her eyes… dead, hollow, like half of her had already gone missing too.
"Would you come with me to the head's office? We'll get permission to post these properly."
She nodded faintly, never meeting my gaze.
A strange familiarity stirred inside me. Something about her words—it gnawed at me like a shadow I had forgotten. I shook the thought away and led her down the hall.
...
"Kate Delos Santos?" Mrs. Dela Cruz adjusted her glasses, studying the poster with a sharp eye. Her polished wooden desk reflected the overhead light as her pen tapped against it.
"Yes, ma'am," the girl whispered.
Mrs. Dela Cruz sighed. "Alright, I'll sign it. But you should report this to the authorities immediately. This is serious."
The click of her pen punctured the silence, the scratch of ballpoint grinding against paper filling the air.
"By any chance, ma'am," I asked carefully, "do you have a list of students assigned to the greenhouses? Specifically Greenhouse 1?"
She set her pen aside, eyes narrowing. "I don't keep those records, but the Greenhouse Club does. Ask their president." Her gaze fixed on me now, fingers interlaced on the table. "But Mr. Ambram, shouldn't you be attending to your own duties?"
Her tone prickled under my skin, but I kept my composure."My hands are not full, ma'am."
She exhaled, slid the permit across the desk. I signed it, then turned to the girl and gave her the faintest smile.
Walking back down the corridor, she whispered thanks."You don't have to help me so much. This is already more than enough. I can handle the rest."
I stopped. "Still—if you ever need help, reach out to me."
Her lips curved into a thin, relieved smile.
"By the way," I asked, finally realizing the strangeness, "why are you here today? It's Saturday."
"I'm part of the Greenhouse Club. My sister and I joined together. I'm assigned to Greenhouse 3, but… without her, it's not the same." Her chuckle was weak, hollow with longing.
"Since when has she been missing?"
"Three days."
"I'm sure she's safe. Don't worry—we'll find her."
She nodded, the hope fragile but alive. "Thank you. Really." Then she bowed and left.
I turned toward the Greenhouse Club, but my steps drew me first to Greenhouse 1.
The moment I entered, a chill swept through me. The air was stale, too still. Plants stood frozen—lush, yet lifeless, like they had been watered by silence, by death. It is beautiful, in a way it was still and not withered...
I wandered deeper. The rows of flora were haunting in their beauty, as if decay itself had chosen to masquerade in green.
I stopped before a patch of Linnaea borealis. My chest tightened. Each step felt heavier, as if invisible chains were binding me to the floor.
Suddenly, my phone rang, shattering the eerie quiet. I jumped, fumbling before answering.
"Hello?"
"Felix! You gotta come to BlueSea Restaurant, now!" Kyoi's voice was sharp, uneasy.
I frowned. "What? Why?"
"Just hurry!"
His tone twisted my stomach. "Alright—I'm on my way."
I left in haste, abandoning the greenhouse.
At BlueSea, the crowd bustled with chatter and clinking plates. I scanned the room.
"Felix!"
I spotted him. "Vergel, what's wrong? Are you alright?"
He grinned. "You have to try their lobster!"
My face sank, eyes heavy with disbelief. "You dragged me here for a lobster?"
His grin faltered. "They always run out when we come. I thought you'd be excited."
I pinched my eyes shut, breath deep with disappointment. "I was doing something important."
"What could be more important than seafood?" he shrugged.
My fists clenched. "Vergel, I was helping someone with a missing sister. I was about to investigate the greenhouse and you called me—your tone made it sound like you were in danger. And I left—for this?"
His jaw tightened, lips bitten. "You're always running around in other people's business instead of doing your actual job."
My voice sharpened. "Don't talk like you've been doing your part as VP." The words slipped like venom. I hadn't meant them, but anger clouded my restraint.
His eyes changed—wet, raw. "Well, I'm sorry, Felix Ambram. Sorry for being clueless. Sorry for being an irresponsible imp." His shoulder shoved mine as he stormed past, face flushed red.
I stood frozen, watching him dash out, bumping into strangers on his way. My legs wanted to chase him—I could already see it play out in my head. But I didn't move.
...
The University lay silent that evening, hollow without its students. Too quiet. Too peaceful.
The president of the Greenhouse Club handed me a stack of papers. "Here. Copies of all members assigned to Greenhouses 1 through 4. If you want the originals, I can get them."
"This is enough. Thank you."
He nodded. For nineteen, he looked far older, weighed down by something I couldn't place.
And then it came again—the cold breeze. Crawling under my skin. Whispering that something was very, very wrong.