The wind outside was restless that night. Eun Ji was still at her desk with the yearbook still opened in front of her. The scribbled note; "Meet me at the old oak at midnight. -J"
Seemed to pulse with life beneath the dim light of her lamp. She traced the faded ink with her fingertip, her heart pounded with a mix of fear and curiosity.
"Who was "J"? Ji-Hoon?" She thought out loud. "And if so, why had he written this message before his death?" She seemed distracted in thoughts; not getting hold of his reason.
Eun Ji's mind replayed his photograph from the yearbook and she noticed something. His eyes seemed almost alive but the shadow behind him; it wasn't normal. She felt.
Something about it whispered danger, tragedy, and truth. She should have ignored the note, closed the book and gone to bed but she couldn't.
That same inexplicable pull she felt when Baek Hyun's eyes met hers earlier at school. It was here again, drawing her toward something she didn't yet understand.
She glanced at the clock and it was 11:42 p.m. The house was quiet and her mother had already gone to bed. The streets outside were dark, except for the occasional passing headlights that painted fleeting streaks of gold across her room.
Her chest suddenly throbbed; a familiar sting. She winced as her hand pressed against it, remembering the dream she had the night before: the faceless man, the sword, the crimson moon. The pain had felt real then and it still did.
"Why does it feel like I've been here before…?" she whispered. Before 11:57, her mind was made up.
Eun Ji slipped on a hoodie and grabbed her phone for light. She quietly tiptoed down the hallway which made the wooden floor creak beneath her socks. This made her pause every few steps, holding her breath as if the walls themselves were listening.
At the door, she hesitated. "Just a quick look," she muttered to herself. "If it's nothing, I'll come back."
As she stepped out, the night air greeted her with a chill. The streets were empty, only the hum of the city remained in the distance. With the old oak's location etched in her mind, she pulled her hoodie tighter and started walking. It was behind the abandoned east wing of the school, near the forest line. A place where students rarely went after dark.
The silence was oppressive and each footstep echoed in her ears. The faint glow of streetlights faded as she neared the school's boundary. The darkness grew heavier and thicker, as if the world itself was holding its breath as she approached.
Soon, she'd reached the clearing. The old oak stood tall and ancient. Its massive roots coiled like snakes across the ground. The branches stretched upward, framing the half-moon while the wind rustled through its leaves, carrying whispers she couldn't quite understand.
With steady steps, she began her tour. Her eyes swiftly scanned around for whatever she could get. Just then, she froze.
Her breath was intuitively caught in her throat; her knees numb at the sight. There was someone there. At first, she thought it was her imagination. But no; the figure was real.
A boy stood beyond the oak with his uniform faintly illuminated by the moonlight. His posture was stiff and unnatural. And his head remained tilted slightly to the side, as if listening to something far away.
"J–Ji-Hoon?" she called out softly in a stammer but the figure didn't move. She hesitated but with enough courage, she stepped forward with her phone trembling in her hand. "If this is a prank, it's not funny."
Then the boy's head slowly turned toward her. Her flashlight flickered once—then died. Darkness swallowed everything in a single breath.
Eun Ji's heart leapt into her throat. She could hear the rustle of leaves, the sound of feet dragging through the soil. "No… no, no, no—" she stammered, fumbling to restart her phone. But the screen stayed black.
"Eun Ji," a voice suddenly whispered behind her and she froze. Her entire body went cold. Slowly, she turned, her breath hitched.
Standing only a few feet away was Ji-Hoon. His face was pale, unnaturally so, and his eyes—empty, lifeless, but aware. The faint scar on his neck glowed a soft blue in the moonlight.