They say our school is just a dull, loud place, but if you look closer, you’ll spot things that don’t fit. Yuuma Ueno, 16, thinks so too. He’s bright, maybe a bit odd, spends free time with his sketchbook, often looking out to the old Building C, shut off since last spring.
One wet morning, rumor girls are sharing whispers at the shoe lockers. Someone’s been seen in the locked classroom after dark. Yuuma doesn’t buy it. His best friend, Sachi Morinaga, laughs when he says, “I bet it’s just the wind.” But is it? And why won’t any teacher talk about why the room is off-limits?
Mr. Arai, the calm but tired science teacher, acts uneasy walking past Building C every time. Yuuma draws him, capturing the circle of keys always at his side. Sachi comes up, drops her voice: “Mimi Takeshita and I saw lights last night by the third floor, Yuuma. Just sliding shadows from inside. It’s real.”
Suddenly, Yuuma wants to prove ghosts don’t exist. Or to find something else. What would you do? Seek proof or just shrug?
The two grab a floor map (snagged from the old library) and plan their afterschool trip. Mimi wants in, her brown eyes curious and fast to roll at Yuuma’s careful nature: “And if we get locked in?”
He grins, covering nerves. “Won’t happen if you’re with me. Right?”
A quick check around—the hallway’s empty. The trio sneaks upstairs when cleaning bells ring. They turn the rusted doorknob, and Yuuma draws a shaky breath. Inside is cold, stale. Broken desks line one side, an old chalk mural across the board.
They see dust covered notebooks, a crumpled red scarf draped on a chair, initials faded at the hem. A small pack of foreign snacks lies unopened on the windowsill.
Sachi examines the mural. “It’s a code—look.” Three dates are scribbled high up. At the third date, the mural shows a wilted tulip. Yuuma’s name is there, circled lightly in pink. How can this be?
Yuuma keeps pace, whispering, “Nobody’s been here since last year, right?” Sachi is still. She remembers that last spring a student left, not telling friends why.
Mimi finds a sheet tucked below the scarf. Collage paper…and a family photo taped with old glue. A string of coded numbers at the back. Mimi wonders if teachers know more. Why won’t they explain what happened to the missing student? “Maybe your own name was part of this story, Yuuma.” What do you think?
Steps echo outside—someone with heavy shoes, slow. Lights slice under the door. The trio hide. In the gloom, Yuuma grasps the chalk, draws his favorite magpie to fight panic. Sachi fists the scarf.
The door opens. Mr. Arai peers in, keys dangling, but stops when he sees the mural. He freezes at Yuuma’s magpie. He closes the door with a click, locks it. His voice is soft in the dim: “Not tonight, not tonight…,” and he turns away.
They ask, in muffled tones, will he tell or keep quiet? Their hearts rush. Is this just an old secret or something new?
Sudden knocking comes from within the building, not the hallway. Sachi’s phone buzzes—it’s a picture from an unknown sender: a photo of all three crouched below the mural. There’s no sound in the hall now.
Yuuma presses his back to the wall. Sachi and Mimi clam up. Is the school itself watching? How did someone send that picture? More to the point, who?
Just as Yuuma decides it’s time to stand up and open the door himself, deciding to risk discovery, something scribbles quickly on the board behind. None of them are holding chalk.
His name, and the name of the girl missing since last spring, show up side by side. “Friends in-waiting. Return when ready.”
Will Yuuma uncover what happened to her? Is Mr. Arai watcher or protector? As lights fade and the phone snaps a new photo, the story closes: for tonight, at least, secrets seal with the lock.
Next time? Who knows which side of the door they’ll all be on.
