[Monday – 8:12 AM | Locker Hallway]
The festival was over, but the whispers weren't.
Applause faded. But silence? It grew louder.
Kiyomi twisted her locker dial, the routine smooth. But as it creaked open, a folded black envelope fell out — crisp edges, no name.
She froze.
No perfume. No ink. Just dread.
Opening it, only five words were scrawled inside — in bold, messy strokes:
"You can't replace the dead."
Her breath caught.
The hallway was noisy, but this… this silenced everything.
And from behind her, Aika saw her stiffen.
"Kiyomi?"
Kiyomi crumpled the paper silently, slipping it into her bag. She turned, smiling as if nothing had happened.
"Just a flyer."
But her fingers trembled.
[Classroom – 10:03 AM]
Sora rested her head on folded arms.
Mio tapped her mechanical pencil rhythmically, sketching a scene from last night's dream.
It was… strange.
A shadowy auditorium.
A girl in a black dress with a cracked mask.
And behind her, a teacher watching through the curtains — smiling.
But the smile wasn't kind.
It was familiar.
[Cafeteria – 12:27 PM]
"Who do you think wrote it?" Aika asked, low and sharp.
They were seated near the far corner of the cafeteria.
Sora munched on cold fries. "What?"
"The note. The one someone put in Kiyomi's locker."
"You saw that?"
"I saw her hands shake."
Mio looked up. "Could be jealousy. Not everyone liked how the fest ended. Some people were Team Reika."
Sora exhaled. "Or someone knows more than they're letting on."
"About…?"
Sora's eyes darkened. "About what really happened between Reika and Ms. Hanabira."
Silence.
The air went cold.
[Flashback – One Month Ago]
Reika stands in the drama hall, arms crossed.
"Why do you keep looking at her like that?" she snaps.
Ms. Hanabira turns, sighing. "She reminds me of me."
Reika's voice cracks. "Then stop. She's mine."
[Present – Teachers' Office | 2:55 PM]
Sora knocked gently.
Ms. Hanabira looked up from her laptop, glasses low on her nose.
"Sora," she said, smiling with a warmth that didn't reach her eyes. "You need something?"
"Actually, yes," Sora said, walking in. "You were Reika's mentor, right?"
Hanabira nodded. "She was… intense. Brilliant. Tragic."
"You ever feel responsible for her?"
A pause. Then a small, bitter smile.
"Guilt is a perfume we all wear eventually, Sora. But it fades. Art doesn't."
[Evening – Mio's Room – 7:21 PM]
Mio stared at her sketch again.
She added a single thing: a red ribbon falling from the masked girl's wrist.
She didn't know why.
But it felt right.
She shut her sketchbook quickly as Aika entered.
"Hey."
"Hey."
Aika slumped onto the bed, covering her face with a pillow.
"I almost cried in class today."
Mio chuckled. "Welcome to art school. That's normal."
"No. I saw Reika's eyes in Kiyomi today. And for a second, I forgot she was gone."
Mio was quiet.
"Do you miss her?" Aika asked.
"Some days," Mio said. "And some days… I miss the version of us before her."
[Nightfall – Kiyomi's Dorm – 11:12 PM]
Kiyomi locked her door, heart thudding.
She re-read the note.
Then took out an old message from Reika's journal — one Kiyomi had secretly copied years ago.
"If anything happens to me, don't trust smiles. Especially from teachers."
She blinked.
No one knew about this journal. Not even Aika.
And yet… the handwriting in today's note looked eerily similar to Reika's.
No one could copy that slanted, sharp "R"...
Unless they had written it themselves.
Kiyomi's chest tightened.
Was Reika… still alive?
[Morning – Tuesday | Auditorium Backstage – 8:01 AM]
Sora walked in, finding Aika seated on a crate, eyes swollen.
"Couldn't sleep?" she asked gently.
Aika shook her head.
"I… I dreamt of her again. Reika. She was wearing that same white dress. She reached out. But when I tried to touch her…"
"…she shattered?"
Aika nodded.
Sora knelt. "You don't have to bleed for her anymore."
"I don't know how to stop."
Sora smiled faintly. "You start by playing music that's only yours."
[Final Scene – 8:42 AM | Mirror Room – Newly Set Up Exhibition]
Mio's class had set up a new installation.
One central mirror. Four reflections.
Each reflection warped.
In Kiyomi's, a pair of hands hovered over her shoulders — unseen, ghostly.
In Aika's, Reika stood behind her — eyes closed, lips smiling.
In Sora's, only herself — but older. Colder.
In Mio's… there was no reflection at all.
Suddenly the lights flickered.
A voice played through the speaker, crackling and glitched:
"Are you girls… ready for Act Two?"
Then everything went black.