Capítulo 4: Chapter 4: Two Nights Before School
As evening settled over the city, Akihiko and I walked back to the dorm after a full day of exploring. My hands were full of shopping bags—warm clothes, school supplies, and a few other essentials I'd forgotten to pack. Snowflakes drifted down in the soft glow of streetlights, dusting the sidewalks and rooftops. Here and there, young adults were heading home, their breath misting in the cold air, reminders of today's Coming of Age festivities.
I glanced up at the sky, where the moon, just past full, hung low and luminous against the deepening twilight. I must've missed the full moon last night.
Beside me, Akihiko suddenly stopped walking, stretching with a wide grin on his face. I paused too, glancing over.
"That was a great meal," he said, patting his stomach. "Thanks for treating me."
I shrugged. "You volunteered to show me around all day. It's the least I could do."
"Still…" he added, "You know, I'm thinking a quick run would be perfect right about now."
Ah, right I remember this… Akihiko, the muscle-brain guy.
"A… run?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Want to join me?" he asked. "You know, burn off a few calories. Good way to stay in shape, especially with school starting soon."
"Er… no thanks,"
"Your loss," he shrugged, stretching his legs. "You know the way back, right? I'll make a quick loop around the neighborhood."
"Yeah, I've got it. You do you, Sanada-san."
"See you later!"
And with that, he bolted off, disappearing down the street at a pace that could only be described as unnecessarily fast.
What a strange guy.
—
When I returned to the dormitory, the faint scent of tea greeted me. Inside, Mitsuru was sitting on the sofa, buried in a mountain of paperwork, looking more than a little weary. Despite the fatigue evident in her eyes, she soldiered on, flipping through documents and scribbling notes with meticulous focus.
She couldn't ignore the sound of the front door, and her posture tightened slightly as her gaze fell on me. I suppose that reaction was natural.
"You're back," she said, her tone neutral. "Where's Akihiko?"
"He… went on a run."
"Of course." Her response sounded resigned, as if his nightly runs were something she was used to. Her eyes flicked to the bags in my hands. "Did you buy something?"
I held up the bags. "Just a few school supplies. I realized I forgot to pack them."
"Oh?" She sounded surprised, and there was a hint of something else in her eyes—a flicker of panic? "You could've let me know. I could have arranged for whatever you needed."
"No need, Kirijo-san," I said, taking a seat across from her and setting my bags beside me. "Besides, it gave me a chance to get familiar with the town. I'll be living here from now on, after all."
"True… I suppose that's reasonable," she said, though her expression remained guarded. "Have you eaten?"
"Yeah, Sanada-san took me to a place in the strip mall. Hagakure Ramen, I think it was called. Great ramen, actually." Her questions felt oddly formal, like she was ticking off a mental checklist.
"I… see." She looked at me for a moment, a strange expression in her eyes that I couldn't quite read.
My eyes drifted to the towering stack of papers in front of her. "And what about you? That's a lot of paperwork."
"Just some student council work," she replied, focused on the documents in front of her. "With the new term starting in a couple of days, we're assisting the faculty with some administrative tasks."
"Isn't it a bit much for high school students? And without pay, too. Doesn't say much for the staff here, does it?"
She looked up. "I volunteered. And the faculty is more than capable, I assure you."
Of course she volunteered…
"Well, you should take a break once in a while, Kirijo-san. There's more to high school than paperwork and formalities," I said. "And hey, if you want, I could give you a hand."
She hesitated, her gaze shifting away. "It… wouldn't be appropriate. Besides, you must be tired after everything today. You should rest."
Looks like getting close to her isn't going to be that simple. I'd have to give it time; after all, we'd only met yesterday.
"Alright," I said, standing up and gathering my bags. "Still, if you need help, I'm just one floor away."
"Ginba-san," she called out abruptly. I paused, turning back to face her. "Before I forget. There's a package for you behind the counter. It's important from the looks of it, as the person who delivered it said so, I thought you might not want to delay opening it."
A package? From who?
Without waiting for her to add anything further, I headed over to the small box she'd indicated. It was labeled from Okinawa. Which meant it could only be from Father.
But what could he have sent? He hadn't mentioned this at all…
"Thanks, Kirijo-san," I murmured, glancing back at her briefly before heading toward the staircase with the box in hand.
—
Settling down on my bed, I carefully lifted the box's lid. Inside lay… a book. A strange one. It was thick and bound in black leather, with golden accents that traced along the edges. In the center, embossed in gold, was an intricate heart-shaped symbol.
I frowned, feeling the slight weight of the book in my hands. He went through the trouble of sending this all the way from Okinawa, and it's… just a book?
Curious, I opened the cover, flipping through its pages. They were all blank. Not a single word or mark—not even a smudge of ink—on any of the parchment-like paper. Was this supposed to be a diary?
But then, from the corner of one of the pages, something dropped. It was a picture, it looked old. In the faded image was a woman with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, so familiar it was almost unsettling. It was… my mother. I'd only ever seen her face in the large family portrait back at home, and even then, her image was always distant, a relic of the past I'd barely had a chance to know.
So, this was Father's way of keeping her memory alive? Perhaps the book was hers. Even though he rarely showed it, maybe this was his attempt at sharing a piece of her with me, some fragment of sentiment hidden within an otherwise impersonal package.
I slipped the photograph carefully back between the pages, set the book aside, and moved to unpack my bags, placing my newly bought clothes and supplies in the cupboard. But then, just as I was finishing, a faint sound caught my attention—a soft rustling. I turned, staring at the bed.
The book had opened itself. Its pages were flipping wildly, as if caught in a fierce wind, but there was no breeze in the room.
A chill ran down my spine.
"What the…?"
Hesitantly, I reached out, intending to snap it shut, but before my hand could make contact, the book lifted off the bed. It floated, hovering in midair, its pages spinning faster and faster. And then, as if it had become a whirlpool, I felt a force pulling me toward it—a relentless, unnatural suction. I tried to step back, but my arm was already caught in its invisible grip, sinking into the pages like quicksand.
I barely had time to process the horror of it all before darkness swallowed me whole.
—
[Third-Person POV]
Meanwhile, Mitsuru was still downstairs, the mountain of paperwork before her growing steadily. Despite her focus, her mind kept drifting back to the conversation she had earlier. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had been too distant with him.
Perhaps… Am I too cold?
She remembered how he had suggested she relax a bit. Relax. How could she? There were too many things pressing on her mind—the looming start of the new term, the expectations from her family, the weight of her father's legacy, the sins passed down from generations…
No. She couldn't relax just yet.
But then, the thought lingered. Was she being too hard on him? It wasn't just her that was stuck in this situation. Ruichi was too. Neither of them knew each other well, yet their paths were entwined now, and avoiding the truth would only prolong the inevitable. She had to face it. She had to talk to him soon.
She sighed, resting her pen at the side, and stood up. Her feet carried her toward the staircase, but each step felt heavier, her thoughts spinning around in circles. What will I say? she wondered, but she didn't know the answer.
Before she realized it, she was standing in front of his door. Her breath caught in her throat. She knocked, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet dorm.
"Ginba-san?" she called out softly. No answer. "I… wish to talk. About our situation. I realize I cannot avoid it. We should converse on—"
The door, responding to her knock, creaked open by itself. It wasn't fully closed. Mitsuru hesitated, calling his name again. Still, no answer. She pushed the door open cautiously, expecting to find him.
But the room was empty.
Her eyes scanned the tidy space. The room was neat, but there was something off. The cupboard in the corner stood open, as though he had been in the process of unpacking. She glanced around, but there was no sign of him.
Confused, she turned, thinking he might have gone out. But then, her gaze landed on something unusual.
A book lay on the floor, now closed, its cover black and gold. Mitsuru's brow furrowed. It was out of place.
She stepped closer. There was something… strange about the whole room now, like a heavy, oppressive silence had settled in. She didn't know what it was, but something was wrong.
What is going on here?
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