(Jude’s POV)

The morning air was supposed to feel fresh and hopeful — it was the first day of another school year — but for me, it felt like pure chaos.

The streets were jammed with cars honking like wild geese, motorbikes cutting through the traffic, and the sun already turning my skin sticky. My bus driver seemed determined to hit every red light in Tokyo. By the time I finally stepped off, my hair had turned into an abstract sculpture and my uniform looked like I’d wrestled a windstorm.

I dragged my feet toward the gate of Yamashiro University, the silver letters glinting proudly under the sunlight. Students in crisp uniforms rushed past me — laughing, fixing each other’s collars, comparing schedules. Everyone looked picture-perfect and full of energy.

Everyone except me.

I caught my reflection in a shiny car window and sighed.

“First day of school, and I already look like a dropout.”

As soon as I entered the gate, something strange caught my attention — people were whispering.

Some chuckled quietly when I passed.

A group of girls near the bulletin board nudged one another, whispering behind their hands.

I frowned. Did I spill coffee on myself ? I checked — shirt buttoned, tie uneven but fine, skirt okay, socks… mostly clean. Nothing embarrassing.

“Whatever,” I muttered, shaking my head. “They’re just bored.”

I needed to find my section and collapse on a chair before my legs gave out.

The bulletin board was covered with fresh sheets of paper, pinned neatly in rows:

Section A

Section B

Section C

Section D

My eyes scanned the names one by one until— wait. There, at the very last corner, taped crookedly and printed in smaller, almost faded letters:

Section 11-B

Huh?

I tilted my head. “That’s weird. They skipped from A to D… and then this?”

I followed the line and froze when I saw it:

JUDE TAKAHARA — 11-B

There it was, clear as day.

But beside it was something even stranger — a small handwritten note in parentheses:

> Room 11-B – Building (Old Facility)

I blinked. building? Old facility?

Was that even part of the campus?

Curiosity started poking at me, but before I could process it, I caught snippets of conversation from the students nearby.

“Wait, someone actually got 11-B?” a boy whispered.

“Yup,” his friend snorted. “That’s the old section, right? The one they shut down?”

“Yeah. My cousin said no one’s been there for years.”

A small chill crept down my arms.

I tightened my grip on my bag and forced a weak smile. “Great. I’m either in a top-secret honors class or a horror movie.”

The path behind the main building was quiet — too quiet.

The sounds of chatter, laughter, and squeaking shoes slowly faded the farther I walked. The cement path cracked beneath my steps; vines tangled along the walls. Even the wind seemed hesitant to pass through.

My phone buzzed, startling me. A message from my old friend popped up:

> Mira: “Yo, what section r u? I got C ”with Haha Emoji

Me: “11-B. Apparently somewhere behind the school??”

Mira: “WHAT 😳 that’s the old building right?? Be careful 😭”

I rolled my eyes. “Rumors. There’s always one.”

Still, I couldn’t ignore the way my stomach tightened with each step.

When I turned the final corner, I saw it.

The Building.

It stood alone behind the gym — smaller, older, and half-swallowed by overgrown plants. Paint peeled off its walls like dried skin, and one window was cracked right across the middle. A faded metal sign still hung above the entrance: Building B — the paint nearly gone.

I forced a grin. “Well, this is welcoming.”

The door groaned when I pushed it open, echoing like something sighing deep inside the old structure.

The smell hit me instantly — dust, chalk, and aged wood, mixed with the faint scent of rain that had seeped through the cracked ceiling over the years. The hallway was dim and narrow, the kind of silence that pressed against your ears. Broken lockers lined the walls, their paint peeling like old skin.

My shoes crunched over scattered bits of glass and dirt as I stepped inside. Every sound I made echoed — too loud, too alone.

“Great,” I muttered. “Haunted school setting, level unlocked.”

I tilted my head upward. A faded sign near the stairwell caught my eye:

> 1st Floor — Storage

2nd Floor — Faculty Records

3rd Floor — Classrooms

“Of course,” I sighed. “Third floor. Why not?”

The stairs groaned beneath my weight with every step. The metal rail felt cold, sticky from the humidity. A thin film of dust clung to my fingers as I trailed them along the wall for balance.

On the second-floor landing, the air grew even heavier — thicker, like the building didn’t want me there. My breath came out uneven as I climbed higher, my bag thumping against my side.

When I finally reached the third floor, I stopped to catch my breath. The hallway stretched ahead, lined with half-open doors and shattered windows that let streaks of weak sunlight through. Cobwebs clung to the corners, swaying gently in the breeze from a broken fan.

And then, I saw it.

At the very end of the corridor, almost hidden behind a half-collapsed bulletin board, was a door. Its number plate hung crookedly, but the faded engraving was still clear enough to read:

> Room 11-B

A shiver ran down my spine.

I walked slowly toward it, the floor creaking beneath me, until I stood in front of the door. The paint was chipped, and faint scratches covered the wood like someone had tried to claw their way out.

I hesitated. The air around the doorknob was cold — unnaturally cold.

“Okay, Jude,” I whispered. “You made it this far. No chickening out now.”

With one deep breath, I pushed the door open.

It groaned loudly, echoing down the entire hallway, as if the building itself had woken up from a long sleep.

Inside, the classroom was dark and still. Dust motes floated lazily through a shaft of sunlight breaking through the cracked window. Old desks stood in crooked rows, some stacked in the back, others covered with yellowed papers.

The blackboard still bore faint white marks — words too faded to read.

The clock above it had stopped at 7:42.

For a moment, I just stood there, frozen.

Then, somewhere in the back of the room, I heard a faint sound.

A slow, soft tap… tap… tap.

I swallowed hard.

And then, as if on cue, a breeze slipped through the broken window — flipping one of the papers on the desk in front of me. On it, scribbled in pale, shaky handwriting, were the words:

> “Welcome to 11-B.”

(Miles Pov)

The morning sun hit my face like a spotlight as I strutted through the gate of Yamashiro High, my uniform already a little untidy, my shirt half-tucked, and my rainbow shoelaces screaming rebellion.

“Yow! New year, new drama!” I shouted, raising my hand like I was announcing a concert.

“Lower your voice, baka!” Rin said beside me, rolling her eyes but still laughing. “People are staring.”

“Let them stare,” I grinned, swinging my bag over my shoulder. “We’re fabulous, babe.”

Rin groaned. “You mean troublesome.”

Behind us, Aki — our other partner-in-chaos — giggled. “Miles, you literally almost got detention last year before classes even started.”

“Correction,” I said proudly, pointing at myself. “Almost. Didn’t happen. That’s growth.”

The three of us burst out laughing, turning heads as we walked through the main gate like we owned the place. The guards sighed, recognizing us immediately. Yeah, we were those students — the kind who made teachers pray for patience every semester.

“Okay, let’s find our new sections before the teachers find us,” Rin said, tugging me toward the bulletin board where a crowd of students gathered.

I squeezed my way through the crowd, my voice echoing like a megaphone.

“Move, babes, im coming through! We love education but not the waiting line!”

“Miles!” Aki hissed, smacking my arm. “You’re so embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing but iconic,” I winked.

I scanned the board. Colorful papers, lists of names, all neatly pinned.

Sections A, B, C, D… my eyes kept darting around until I spotted our grade level

Rin squealed first. “I got D!”

Aki followed. “Me too! D! We’re classmates again!”

They both turned to me, waiting for my name to pop up next to theirs.

I grinned confidently. “Obviously, I’ll be D too. The D stands for Handsome, duh.”

But when my eyes found my name, my grin froze.

> MILES TANAKA — 11-B

Location: Building (Old Facility), 3rd Floor

I blinked. Once. Twice.

“Uh… building? Third floor? That’s—”

Rin leaned closer. “Wait… isn’t that the creepy one behind the school?”

Aki frowned. “The abandoned one?”

I scratched my head, laughing nervously. “Maybe it’s just… under renovation? You know, vintage aesthetic?”

Rin crossed her arms. “Miles, that building has no electricity.”

“Then I’ll be shining on my own, babe,” I said dramatically, flipping imaginary hair.

Aki smirked. “Well, at least you’ll have ghosts to keep you company.”

I gasped. “Perfect! Maybe one will fall in love with me.”

They both groaned, laughing despite themselves.

We walked together until we reached the point where the main path split — one leading to the busy classrooms of the main building, the other toward the quiet, vine-covered path behind the gym.

Rin hugged me tightly. “If you see a shadow that talks, run.”

Aki added, “Or record it. That would go viral.”

I rolled my eyes, chuckling. “You two are so dramatic. It’s just a classroom. How bad could it be?”

Then I turned toward the path leading to the rear building.

The laughter of my friends faded behind me, replaced by the soft hum of cicadas and the crunch of gravel under my shoes.

The air grew still. The further I walked, the older everything looked — the cracked walls, the leaning fences, the silence.

Finally, I looked up — and there it was.

The old building.

Its windows were fogged, the paint peeling, the sign above the door almost unreadable.

I took a deep breath and grinned.

“Alright, Room 11-B,” I muttered. “Let’s see what kind of trouble you’ve got waiting.”

And with that, I marched toward the entrance, my heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nerves

I run upstairs

I'm scared duhh

(Miles’s POV)

I was running for my life.

Literally.

The second I stepped into the old building, the silence hit me like a slap. The lights flickered, the air felt thick, and every creak of the floor made my imagination run faster than my legs.

By the time I reached the third floor, I was gasping like a fish out of water.

“Why—do—horror—stairs—have—so many—steps?!” I wheezed, clutching the railing for dear life.

The hallway stretched ahead of me like something straight out of a ghost movie — long, dim, and covered in dust. The air smelled like old paper and regret.

“Okay, Miles,” I muttered between breaths, slapping my cheeks lightly. “You’re a tough . Ghosts fear you.”

My voice echoed down the corridor. I instantly regretted it.

Then, I spotted it — at the very end of the hall, a door with a crooked number plate:

> Room 11-B.

“Finally!” I groaned, dragging myself forward. “If I die of asthma before class even starts, I swear—”

I reached the door, pushed it open, and—

“AAAAAHHH!”

There was a figure by the window. Pale. Still. Not moving.

I screamed so loud I think I woke the entire building.

“WHAT THE ACTUAL—GHOST?!”

“WHAT THE HELL?!” the figure screamed back at me, spinning around.

We both yelled at the same time, voices overlapping like an off-key duet:

> “SHT!”

“HOLY FCK!”

We both froze.

The “ghost” wasn’t floating.

She wasn’t see-through either.

Just a human girl — messy hair, crumpled uniform, eyes wide with the same fear I was feeling.

There was a beat of silence — then, somehow, we both started laughing.

The kind of half-hysterical laugh that only comes from mutual trauma.

“Holy crap,” I said, clutching my chest. “You almost made me pee myself.”

Jude:“Same,” she huffed, brushing her hair out of her face. “I thought you were some possessed janitor or something.”

I snorted. “A possessed janitor? Wow, thanks. That’s flattering.”

She sighed, crossing her arms. “What are you doing here anyway?”

I grinned, still catching my breath. “ apparently. I’m Miles — section 11-B.”

She blinked, lowering her guard a little. “Jude. 11-B too.”

I tilted my head, smirking. “Oh? So we’re classmates. Great. You can scream with me when the ghosts come ”

She gave me a deadpan look. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I prefer the term fun,” I said, winking.

Before she could reply, something heavy thudded in the hallway — like a chair being dragged.

We both jumped.

Our eyes darted to the door. It was still half-open.

Then — creeeaak.

The doorknob twisted slowly.

Without thinking, Jude stepped closer to me. I glanced down at her, whispering, “You’re scared, aren’t you?”

“Shut up,” she muttered.

The door creaked open wider.

Both of us braced ourselves… only for a crumpled piece of paper to flutter inside, carried by the wind.

It landed between our feet.

Jude crouched first, picking it up carefully.

The handwriting was messy, rushed — and the words made my skin crawl.

> "Mga Bobo"

Our laughter died instantly.

We stared at each other, wide-eyed.

“…You saw that too, right?” I whispered.

She nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

“Cool,” I said faintly. “Because if another paper appear again, I’m jumping out the window.”

Jude:" Don't worry bro I'll help to jump in the window

"Ill jump with you"

(Author’s POV )

.

A sleek white car rolled to a stop in front of the gate. The driver quickly stepped out and opened the back door.

Out came Kim Akihara — tall, poised, and effortlessly pretty, the kind of girl who looked like she belonged on magazine covers rather than a noisy schoolyard. Her black hair shimmered faintly under the morning light, her uniform perfectly pressed, and her shoes shone as if she’d polished them twice.

She adjusted her bag strap and inhaled deeply. “Another year,” she murmured to herself.

She glanced around. Everyone looked cheerful, but whenever someone looked at her and then whispered to their friends, she could hear snippets:

> “She’s in that section?”

“11-B? Bro, that’s the creepy one.”

“I heard it’s in the old building—like, way behind the gym!”

Kim frowned slightly but ignored them. Gossip never scared her. She just wanted to know where she was supposed to go.

She made her way toward the bulletin board, weaving through the crowd of students shouting out their names.

The crowd around the bulletin board buzzed with energy — laughter, complaints, and a few frustrated groans as students found out which section they’d been placed in.

Kim Akihara stood silently among them, her posture straight, her uniform immaculate. She had that calm presence that drew eyes without her even trying. Her Black hair fell neatly over her shoulders, and her sharp eyes scanned the posted list one more time.

> Akihara, Kim — 11-B

Room: Old Building, Third Floor.

Her brows furrowed slightly. “Old building?” she murmured.

She’d been in this school for years, but she’d never once set foot in that part of campus. People joked about it being haunted, or used for detention, but she always assumed it was just a rumor.

She exhaled, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Great. First day, and I’m already in a horror movie setting.”

With that, she turned on her heel and began walking away — quiet, graceful, and unbothered by the noise behind her.

But she didn’t notice that someone else had just stopped a few steps away, staring at the same list with an expression of disbelief.

Nacey Ryu was not the type to blend in anywhere.

 her loose necktie, and the lazy smirk she always wore made her stand out instantly. She tapped her finger against the glass, staring at her name on the list.

> Ryu, Nacey — 11-B

Room: Old Building, Third Floor.

“11-B? What the hell is that?” she muttered, half-laughing. “Did they seriously put me in the building everyone avoids? Wow, thanks, universe.”

She stuffed her hands into her pockets and turned around, just in time to see Kim walking away.

Kim was already walking far ahead, not once looking back.

Nacey walk too, smirking. “We’ll see who survives the haunted hallway first.”

The path toward the back of the campus was quiet — too quiet compared to the lively main grounds.

Kim walked steadily, her shoes clicking softly against the pavement. The trees rustled gently, shadows swaying across the ground. She could still hear faint laughter from the other buildings, but here, everything felt… different.

She passed by the side of the gymnasium, where the hall stretched long and slightly darker. The smell of old wood and chalk hung in the air.

And then, behind her, footsteps echoed.

Fast. Confident. Slightly heavy.

She didn’t turn around — not until someone called out.

“Wait!”

Kim stopped and glanced over her shoulder.

Nacey jogged up a few steps, panting lightly. “Hey, you—uh,”

Kim blinked, her tone cool but polite. “Yes. Why?”

Nacey shoved her hands into her pockets, catching her breath. “Just asking where you’re going.”

Kim tilted her head. “To my classroom. 11-B.”

That made Nacey pause — then laugh softly. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not.”

Nacey grinned. “Well, would you look at that? We’re classmates.”

Kim’s brows lifted slightly. “You’re also in 11-B?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Nacey said, feigning a dramatic sigh. “I thought I was the only one cursed to study in a haunted building, but looks like fate gave me company.”

Kim’s lips twitched — the smallest hint of a smile. “That’s one way to describe it.”

They fell into step beside each other, neither really saying they’d walk together — but somehow, they did.

The gym’s hallway stretched behind them as they made their way toward the rear of the school. Their footsteps echoed, mixing with the distant hum of cicadas.

“So,” Nacey said casually after a few seconds, “you’re not new here, right?”

Kim shook her head. “No. Been here since junior high. You?”

“Same,” Nacey replied. “Just didn’t expect to be thrown into this mystery class thing.”

“Mystery class?”

“That’s what people call it,” Nacey said. “No one ever talks about 11-B. Some say it’s for the ‘special cases.’”

Kim raised an eyebrow. “Special as in... troublemakers?”

Nacey smirked. “Exactly my type of people.”

Kim rolled her eyes, but there was a faint warmth in her expression now.

They turned the corner, and for the first time, they both saw it — the old building standing quietly behind the gym.

The paint was peeling, vines curling up the cracked walls, windows dusty and dark.

“...So it’s real,” Kim said softly.

“Yup,” Nacey replied. “Our lovely new home.”

She nudged Kim lightly with her elbow. “Don’t worry, Princess. If ghosts pop up, I’ll protect you.”

Kim gave her a side glance. “How brave of you, considering you’ll probably scream first.”

Nacey grinned. “We’ll see.”

And together — one calm and collected, the other loud and reckless — they stepped toward the old building, unaware that two others were already inside, waiting to scream their heads off at the next person who dared open that creaking door.

They began walking toward the back of the campus together — not planned, just naturally falling into step.

At first, neither spoke. The path grew quieter the farther they went. The laughter and chatter from the main building faded, replaced by the hum of cicadas and the crunch of gravel under their shoes.

The old building slowly came into view — faded paint, vines creeping up the walls, and windows clouded with dust.

“...So this is it,” Nacey said, stopping to take it in. “Our classroom of doom.”

Kim adjusted her bag. “You really like exaggerating things, don’t you?”

“Only when they’re true,” Nacey replied with a grin.

They started walking up the stairs. Each step groaned, echoing through the empty halls. Kim held onto the railing, careful and composed, while Nacey walked ahead, humming a tune.

“You don’t seem nervous,” Kim observed.

“Scared? Nah,” Nacey said, glancing back at her. “I’ve seen worse. Besides, you’re here. You look like someone who carries holy water in her bag.”

Kim rolled her eyes, hiding a small laugh. “I don’t.”

They reached the third floor. The hallway stretched long and dim, the air colder than below. Dust danced in the shafts of light that streamed through broken windows.

Nacey whistled low. “Okay, maybe a little creepy.”

Kim stayed quiet, scanning the numbers on the doors until they stopped at one with a half-hanging plate that read:

Room 11-B.

“This is it,” Kim said softly.

“Guess we made it,” Nacey said, but her voice was quieter now.

They exchanged a glance — not fear exactly, but that nervous excitement that comes right before something unexpected happens.

Nacey reached for the handle. “Ready?”

Kim sighed. “Just open it.”

The door creaked — slowly, loudly — like something that hadn’t been moved in years.

Light spilled into the classroom, illuminating two familiar figures already standing inside.

(Miles) was rubbing her chest, still out of breath from running.

Another — Jude — stood near the window, looking equally shocked.

And just as Kim and Nacey stepped inside, all four of them screamed at once.

“AAAAAHHH!”

“WHAT THE—!!”

“JESUS—!”

“OH MY GOD WHY ARE YOU SHOUTING?!”

The chaos echoed through the entire floor.

When the yelling finally died down, all four girls stood frozen, staring at each other.

Miles blinked first. “Wait...?”

Nacey grinned. “Guess so. Unless you’re all part of the welcoming committee for ghosts.”

Kim sighed softly, muttering, “This year is going to be… interesting.”

Jude crossed her arms, still recovering. “You think?”

The air was heavy with awkwardness — but somewhere under that.

(Author’s POV)

The sun had barely climbed over the school gates when the whispers began.

They spread fast—like perfume in a crowded hallway, faint at first, then everywhere.

“She’s back?”

“Didn’t she get suspended?”

“I heard she was …”

“No way. She wouldn’t dare.”

Anney Sakamura.

“Yeah, that’s her! I heard they—”

Anney stopped walking for a second, glanced over her shoulder, and smirked.

“Gossip’s bad for your skin,” she said coolly before continuing on her way.

The two girls froze, embarrassed, pretending to scroll through their phones.

Anney adjusted her bag strap and sighed. Same old thing, she thought. Same old stares.

It had been a few months since the rumors exploded — the kind that twisted every look, every word, every late stay at the classroom into something dirty. She didn’t even bother defending herself anymore. People believed what they wanted to believe.

The only thing she cared about now was making it through the year without drama.

(Even though, deep down, she already knew that was impossible.)

When she reached the bulletin board, she pushed through the crowd of students still pointing at their names. Her perfume — subtle but expensive — lingered in the air.

“Let’s see…” she murmured, scanning the paper list with a perfectly manicured finger.

“Class 11–A… 11–C…”

Then she found it.

11–B — Sakamura, Anney.

She blinked. Then frowned.

“11–B?”

The murmurs behind her got louder.

“Wait, she’s in 11–B?”

“Isn’t that the abandoned classroom?”

“Figures. Guess the teachers didn’t want her near anyone else.”

Anney rolled her eyes so hard it could’ve been a reflex.

“Perfect,” she muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “The haunted class. My luck’s just amazing.”

Still, she didn’t hesitate. She flipped her hair, squared her shoulders, and walked toward the back of the campus — where the air grew quieter and the buildings older.

Her shoes clicked on the cracked pavement. The vines along the walls swayed in the wind. The abandoned building loomed ahead like a secret waiting to be opened.

When she reached the entrance, she paused for a second. The door was slightly ajar — like someone had already gone in.

She took a deep breath, smirked to herself, and pushed it open.

The hinges groaned.

And from somewhere above — maybe the third floor — she could hear faint voices. Laughter, footsteps, someone shouting, “Stop screaming, you idiot!”

Anney tilted her head, curiosity flickering in her eyes.

“So… I’m not the first one,” she said softly.

She brushed off the dust from her skirt and started climbing the stairs, each step echoing through the quiet halls.

As she walked, the air grew colder, heavier — and for the first time that morning, the confident smirk on her lips faded into something more thoughtful.

Who else got thrown into 11–B?

She didn’t know that waiting upstairs were four other students — each just as unwanted, just as complicated, just as unpredictable as her.

And that the moment she stepped into that dusty room, the story of Class 11–B — the class everyone whispered about — was only just beginning.

Each step creaked like it might give out at any moment, but she didn’t slow down. She’d faced worse than this—whispers, stares, and everything. An abandoned building was nothing.

At the third floor landing, she stopped to catch her breath. The air was colder here, and sunlight leaked weakly through the cracked windows.

Her gaze drifted toward a long hallway ahead — quiet, ghostly. The kind of silence that made you feel like the walls were listening.

At the far end hung a crooked sign that read:

Room 11–B

Anney let out a sigh, half a laugh. “So this is it. My grand new beginning.”

She started walking.

From behind the door came faint voices — muffled, playful, a little chaotic.

“Stop shouting, you’ll wake the ghosts!”

“I swear, if someone jumps again, I’m punching you!”

“Why are you even sitting on the desk it's so dusty! ?”

Anney paused, her hand hovering above the handle.

So I’m not the only one.

She pushed the door open.

The hinges screamed, long and loud. Everyone inside froze.

Four pairs of eyes turned toward her — the chaos cut short in an instant.

Dust floated through the sunlight slicing across the room, painting everything in gold and gray.

At the back, Jude stood near the window,

Beside a desk, Miles, round-faced and grinning, froze mid-laugh, one leg up on a chair like she owned the place.

Leaning against the wall were Kim and Nacey, both caught mid-banter — one elegant and calm, the other loud and smug.

The air thickened with awkward silence.

Anney blinked once, scanning them, her expression unreadable.

“Oh,” she said flatly. “wow what a surprising There are people here.”

Nacey leaned slightly toward Kim, whispering, “Who’s Miss Perfect?”

Kim elbowed her. “Shut up.”

Miles recovered first. “Hi!” she said cheerfully, stepping forward. “You’re new too?”

Anney tilted her head, her tone cool but polite. “Apparently. Sakamura, Anney.”

Jude’s eyes flickered at the name. Recognition. Sakamura? The one from the rumors? She didn’t say anything, but the thought lingered.

Nacey crossed her arms, pretending not to stare. “So you’re part of the ghost squad too, huh? Welcome to the freak club.”

Anney smirked. “That’s… one way to put it.”

The silence returned for a moment — five strangers, thrown together in a room that smelled like dust and history.

A single broken fan squeaked above them. The sunlight shifted.

Kim, ever the composed one, finally broke it.

“Since we’re apparently all in 11–B,” she said, glancing around, “I guess we should make the best of it.”

Miles:"it's already nice here "

“ it's Creepy” Jude muttered. “That’s an understatement.”

Nacey grinned. “You mean haunted.”

Miles gasped. “Don’t say that! What if there’s a—”

Before she could finish, the classroom door slammed shut behind them with a deafening BANG!

All five screamed.

Anney’s heart jumped into her throat. “What the hell—?!”

“Who did that?!” Nacey shouted, spinning around.

Jude grabbed the handle — twisted — but it wouldn’t budge. Locked.

Miles backed away toward the desk. “O-okay, nope, this isn’t funny anymore!”

For a second, no one spoke. Only the sound of the wind pressing against the windows and the rattling fan filled the silence.

Then, slowly… the door creaked open again — this time, by itself.

A rush of cold air swept through the room.

The five of them froze, eyes wide.

Anney swallowed hard, forcing a small laugh even though her hands trembled slightly.

“...Right. Haunted. Got it.”

Miles whispered, “Told you.”

But before anyone could move, a faint sound echoed from the hallway — like footsteps. Soft, dragging footsteps coming closer.

Jude’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Someone’s out there.”

Nacey grabbed a broom like a weapon. “Well, if it’s a ghost, I’m hitting it anyway.”

Kim stepped closer to the door, eyes sharp. “Or maybe it’s just another student.”

The footsteps stopped.

Complete silence.

Anney exhaled slowly, her expression steady again. “Whoever it is,” she said softly, “I’m gunna run away.”

Her voice carried calm authority — enough that the others instinctively looked at her.

Then

The hallway outside the door was silent now — too silent.

footsteps, wind,

Anney stood frozen with her hand halfway on the doorknob, eyes darting toward the others.

Miles clung to the side of a desk like it was her last line of defense.

Nacey, still gripping the broom, looked ready to swing.

Kim’s brows were furrowed, focused, her gaze locked on the entrance.

Jude had shifted slightly forward, trying to listen.

Then—

Knock.

Just once. Soft, but clear.

They all jumped.

Miles let out a strangled squeak. “NOPE! I’m out!”

Before she could bolt, the door slowly opened again with a long, dragging creak.

A figure stood there — framed by dim light from the hallway.

A girl.

Her uniform was neat, her hair cut just below her shoulders, and she clutched her school bag tightly against her chest. Her eyes were wide and cautious, but there was no ghostly glow, no floating feet — just nerves.

“Uh…” she said quietly. “Is this… Class 11–B?”

Everyone just stared.

Miles blinked. “...You’re not a ghost?”

The girl tilted her head. “I… don’t think so?”

Anney exhaled, pressing a hand to her chest. “."Are you stupid? Can’t you see she’s a person? Why are you still asking?"”

Nacey groaned, lowering the broom. “ My heart’s gonna file a complaint!”

Kim shook her head, a hint of amusement curling at her lips.

The girl stepped inside hesitantly, her shoes tapping lightly against the dusty floor.

She gave a polite little bow before speaking.

“I’m Cj Akamura,” she said softly. “Sorry if I startled you all.”

Miles grinned, wiping fake sweat from her forehead. “Girl, you didn’t startle us — you almost sent us to the afterlife.”

Cj’s eyes widened. “I–I’m sorry!”

Anney smiled slightly, waving her hand dismissively. “Don’t mind her. She’s dramatic by default.”

Cj nodded. “ I got almost lost because the building map said this section was... ‘inactive’?”

“Yeah,” Nacey said, scoffing. “Inactive. Dead. Haunted. Take your pick.”

Kim sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Let’s not jinx it.”

Cj smiled nervously, clearly unsure whether to laugh or back away. “I guess I’m in the right place, then.”

Anney stepped closer, extending her hand politely. “Anney Sakamura.”

Cj hesitated, then shook it. “Nice to meet you.”

Miles jumped in next, dramatically placing a hand on her chest. “Miles Tanaka! .”

Cj blinked, trying not to laugh. “O-okay.”

Nacey spun her broom like a staff. “Nacey Kuro — .”

Kim rolled her eyes. “Ignore her. I’m Kim Hiroshi. and i don’t group with these idiots.”

“HEY!” Miles and Nacey said in unison.

Kim just smiled faintly, the tiniest smirk tugging at her lips.

Finally, Jude spoke, voice calm but slightly aloof. “Jude Takahara. .”

Miles gasped dramatically. “Did we just meet our resident horror movie lead?”

Anney chuckled under her breath. “Definitely.”

Cj looked around, smiling shyly. “So, um… it's really our classroom”

Everyone fell silent for a moment.

The desks were covered in dust, spiderwebs stretched across the corners, and the chalkboard was half-faded — but somehow, it didn’t feel as creepy anymore.

Miles plopped down into the nearest chair. “Step one: claim a seat before a ghost does.”

Nacey followed suit, tossing her bag onto a desk. “Step two: open the windows before we choke on nostalgia dust.”

Anney moved toward the back, her movements elegant but deliberate. “Step three: pretend we’re in a normal classroom until proven otherwise.”

Kim actually cracked a tiny smile at that. “Fair enough.”

Cj hesitated before picking a seat near the middle, close to Jude — who, despite her quiet demeanor, didn’t seem to mind.

Once everyone settled, the mood softened. The tension from earlier began to melt into laughter and nervous chatter.

Nacey leaned back. “are they didn’t know where else to dump us.”

Anney raised an eyebrow. “You make it sound like we’re garbage.”

Kim, without looking up, replied dryly, “Speak for yourself.”

They laughed

Cj watched them quietly, that small warmth blooming in her chest. She’d been nervous all morning — about new people, new faces — but somehow, these weirdos made it easier to breathe.

Outside, the sky turned brighter, sunlight finally breaking through the old windows.

For a moment, everything felt calm — peaceful, even.