The lock clicked softly as Max turned the handle and pushed the door open.
The first thing that hit him wasn't the size—but the silence.
The room stretched far larger than he'd expected for a single occupant. Sunlight spilled through a half-drawn curtain, painting streaks of gold across polished wooden floors.
"Damn," he muttered under his breath. "This is… better than expected."
There was a compact kitchen tucked neatly into one corner—sleek, minimal, and almost too clean. Beside it, a narrow door led to a private bathroom—neither too big nor too small. Everything looked precisely balanced, almost like someone had designed it to feel comfortable without being luxurious.
The main room stood at the center, simple but inviting. A single bed pressed against one wall, a study desk beside the window, and a balcony door letting in a faint, cool breeze that carried the scent of evening dust.
Max pushed aside the balcony curtain and stepped closer.
From there, he could see other dorms across the small courtyard—balconies spaced roughly six meters apart. Close enough to talk, far enough for privacy. He leaned against the railing, the cold metal brushing against his forearms.
For a school dorm, this feels more like a studio apartment, he thought, genuinely impressed.
Then he turned back inside—and froze.
Something felt… off.
The kind of off that only someone with sharp instincts could sense.
The plastic wrap on the doorknob was torn—just a little. The faint scuff near the bedframe didn't belong. The air had that subtle "lived-in" texture, like someone had been there not long ago.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Someone's been here," he murmured. Then, after a second, shrugged it off. "Maybe the guy from Room 52 accidentally walked in."
He dropped his bag by the bed and sat down. The mattress was surprisingly soft—firm enough to hold his weight, yet gentle enough to pull him toward sleep.
"Not bad," he whispered, lying back and letting exhaustion win.
His eyes slowly closed.
For a few seconds, everything was perfectly still.
Then—he felt it.
A faint, heavy presence beside him.
Not sound. Not sight. Just… pressure. The kind of sensation that makes every muscle instinctively tighten.
His heart skipped once—hard.
But he didn't move. Didn't open his eyes.
He forced his breathing to stay even, pretending to be asleep.
The air near his face shifted slightly, like someone had leaned in to look at him.
He could almost feel their breath—barely there.
Then—
Click.
The sound of the door unlocking shattered the silence.
And then it closed again.
Max's eyes snapped open.
Empty.
The room looked exactly the same.
No footprints. No open drawers. Nothing.
He sat up slowly, pulse still high, scanning every corner.
I didn't even hear a footstep… who the hell moves that quietly?
His gaze drifted toward the next-door dorm—Room 52.
"Was it… them?" he muttered. "What kind of person lives there?"
Before he could think more, his phone buzzed.
> Sam: Where are you, bro? We're waiting for you.
Max exhaled through his nose, forcing his tension down. "Guess nap time's over."
He grabbed his bag, locked the door, and set the digital pin.
The small red light blinked once—secure.
As he descended the stairway, one thought clung stubbornly to his mind:
Whoever that was… they were close enough to touch me.
And yet, he hadn't sensed them arrive—only leave.
---
The marble lobby echoed faintly under his steps as Max reached the ground floor. His mind was still tangled in what just happened—the torn plastic, the unseen presence, the silent door.
He rubbed his temples.
No… I shouldn't tell them. Not now.
Knowing Sam and Ashi, it wouldn't take more than five minutes before they grabbed something stupid—a broom, a bat, maybe even a frying pan—and charged into Room 52 like wannabe detectives. Tom might stay calm, sure, but those two? Not a chance.
He sighed and decided to keep it quiet—for now.
Outside, the afternoon sun had mellowed, casting long shadows across Indus High's courtyard. The academy flag fluttered lazily in the wind, the faint hum of chatter filling the open space.
Near the fountain, Sam sat lazily on the marble edge, scrolling through his phone. Ashi stood beside him, wrestling with a vending machine that refused to cooperate.
"Why do these machines always hate me?" Ashi grumbled, shaking it like it owed him money.
Tom stood a few feet away, calmly reading the new announcements on the notice board, as if the chaos behind him didn't exist.
Max finally reached them, his bag hanging off one shoulder.
"Look who finally decided to join the living," Sam said without looking up.
"Room inspection took time," Max replied casually.
Ashi turned around, still glaring at the machine. "So? How's your room? Same as ours?"
"Yeah… kinda." Max hesitated, remembering the earlier moment. "Pretty decent. Has a balcony and all."
Sam grinned. "Balcony view, huh? Just don't start spying on girls' dorms, Romeo."
Max rolled his eyes. "You think I'm you?"
Tom finally spoke, voice calm and collected. "If you're both done being idiots, we should check tomorrow's schedule. Classes start at eight."
Ashi groaned. "Already? I thought we'd at least get a day of peace before the torture begins."
Sam chuckled. "Peace died the moment you enrolled in Indus High."
Their laughter echoed lightly through the courtyard.
But Max's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. His mind flickered back to that silent presence, the door click, the chill that still clung faintly to his skin.
He forced the thought down and smiled anyway. "Yeah… peace, huh."
Tom's gaze flicked toward him for a brief second—sharp, observant—but he said nothing.
The academy bell rang softly in the distance, its echo stretching into the dimming air.
Maybe it was just coincidence.
Maybe it wasn't.
Either way, something had begun moving beneath Indus High's calm surface.
---
Later That Evening
Ashi stretched his arms with a tired sigh. "Alright, people. We're leaving early today—how about a restaurant stop before heading home?"
Tom looked up from his phone. "Good idea. We didn't get to eat properly at lunch anyway."
Sam grinned. "Yeah, after all that walking around the dorms, I'm starving."
Moco smirked. "You're always starving. You'd eat in your sleep if you could."
"Hey, food is fuel," Sam shot back.
Ashi laughed. "Don't worry, your generous big brother will feed you whatever you want. Just order."
"Fine by me," Sam said, smirking. "As long as you're paying."
Their banter carried down the hallway as they walked toward a small café near the academy gates. The sunset painted the sky orange and pink, the faint smell of roasted beans filling the air.
They settled into a corner booth—Tom quiet as ever, Ashi scrolling through the menu, Sam arguing over desserts, and Moco trying to keep the peace.
For a rare moment, it didn't feel like Indus High.
It felt… human.
They ate, joked, and let the weight of the day fade. The neon signs outside flickered on, washing their table in soft blue light.
Eventually, Moco stood up, brushing her hands off. "I'm heading first—I need to pack for tomorrow."
Ashi nodded. "Everyone, same deal. Pack everything. I'll pick you up in the morning."
"Got it," Sam said, giving a lazy salute.
Max stood too. "I'm off. See you all tomorrow."
He and Sam left together, their voices fading as they joked about whose dorm had the better balcony.
That left Ashi and Tom sitting alone.
Ashi stared out the window for a while, the city lights reflecting in his eyes. "You feel it too, right?"
Tom glanced at him. "Feel what?"
"These quiet, peaceful days," Ashi said softly. "Like the calm before something big."
Tom's expression didn't change. "Yeah. But they'll end soon."
Ashi chuckled under his breath. "You always ruin the mood."
Tom shrugged. "Just stating facts."
Moments later, Ashi's black car pulled up outside. His butler stepped out and bowed slightly.
"Let's go," Ashi said, standing up.
Tom followed. The café doorbell chimed softly behind them as they stepped into the cooling night.
The streets were quiet, the wind brushing against their jackets.
Behind them, Indus High loomed—dorm windows dark, balconies empty.
And somewhere, far up in Room 51…
a faint creak sounded again.
Though no one was there to hear it.
---