Haru nodded stiffly under Daichi's grip, but his eyes kept flicking back over his shoulder, down the corridor where Haruka had vanished.
"This is too much…" Haru muttered, his voice shaking. "She was just behind me.."
"I know," Daichi said quietly. "But panicking won't help her. We stay together. We keep moving. And we find her."
Haru inhaled sharply, the sound ragged. He wiped his face with the back of his sleeve, trying to shake the dread crawling under his skin. His hands still trembled, his breathing shallow, but he took a step forward. Then another.
Daichi followed, staying shoulder to shoulder.
The palace around them shifted — not visibly, but in feeling. The air grew colder. The torches dimmed just a little more. There were no doors anymore, only hallway after hallway that bled into the next, like a maze designed by a dream.
The silence was unnerving. No footsteps but their own. No echoing voices. No sign of Kaito, Airi, Haruka — or Yui and Ayumi.
"I swear," Haru muttered under his breath, "if something touches her, if anything hurts her—"
Daichi grabbed his arm quickly. "Don't go there. You'll fall apart. I need you with me."
"I am with you!" Haru snapped, but there was no venom in it. Only fear, blistering at the edges of his words. "I'm just—"
"I know," Daichi said. "I'm scared too."
They stopped at a fork in the hallway. Left or right.
Daichi hesitated.
Then something subtle — a breeze, unnaturally cold — brushed past them from the right path.
"Did you feel that?" Haru asked, alert now, something raw in his voice.
Daichi nodded. "Yeah."
He didn't say the rest: It felt like something breathing.
They took the right path, steps cautious, eyes sharp. Haru didn't look back again — not because he wasn't scared, but because he couldn't afford to be. Not anymore.
Not while Haruka was still somewhere in this cursed place, alone.
The silence between them stretched as they continued forward, the flickering torches casting long shadows behind them. The hall had changed again—this one narrower, the walls closer, the stone underfoot uneven. But the air felt… still, for once.
Kaito kept glancing at Airi from the corner of his eye.
She still had a grip on his sleeve, but her steps had slowed, her posture less tense than before.
After a few minutes, Airi spoke—quietly, almost reluctantly.
"I didn't think you'd be the one keeping it together."
Kaito blinked. "Me?"
She nodded, not looking at him. "I always figured you'd be the type to panic. Cry. Maybe pass out."
He gave a nervous laugh. "I was kind of close to passing out when we first got separated…"
"I believe it," she said flatly, then added—softer—"…But you didn't."
Kaito scratched the back of his neck, cheeks faintly pink. "I mean, I'm scared. Really scared. But I keep thinking… if I lose it, you'll roll your eyes and leave me behind."
Airi cracked a faint smirk. "Smart of you."
She let go of his sleeve finally, but didn't move away.
After a moment, she asked, "You were really serious, huh? About protecting people like us… even before all this."
Kaito looked at her, surprised. "Yeah. I… I've always felt like I had to. Even if no one noticed."
"I noticed," she muttered, just barely audible.
Kaito's eyes widened. "You did?"
Airi shrugged, suddenly defensive. "Don't make it a big deal. I just pay attention, okay?"
He smiled — small, awkward, but real. "Thanks. That… actually means a lot."
They walked in silence for a bit longer.
Then Airi rolled her eyes. "You're still a total nerd."
"I know," Kaito replied, laughing a little.
Airi gave him a sideways look, her smirk widening just slightly. "Don't push it."
But she didn't walk away. And when they rounded the next corner, she was the one who reached out and gently grabbed his sleeve again — just to make sure he didn't drift too far.
The corridor behind them had vanished—literally. One moment it was there, stretching behind them in cracked stone and black shadows. The next, it was a solid wall.
Yui didn't mention it. Neither did Ayumi.
Talking about it felt like tempting the palace to do worse.
The hallway ahead shifted again. Yui's steps faltered.
"…No," she muttered.
"What?" Ayumi asked sharply, immediately on guard.
Yui slowly pointed ahead. "Do you see it?"
At the end of the corridor, maybe ten feet away, stood a door — a very normal-looking door. Beige. Scratched paint. A chipped metal handle. And taped to the front of it was a familiar red-and-white poster.
Student Council Elections – Vote Sakura Hoshino for President!
Ayumi stepped forward, her eyes narrowing. "You've got to be kidding me."
Yui's voice was barely above a whisper. "That's… that's the exact poster from our school hallway. The one from the science wing."
They approached slowly.
As they did, the air got colder. Not freezing, but wrong — like walking into a room that had been empty for centuries. The light above the door flickered, buzzing faintly. The atmosphere turned sharp and metallic, like blood and static clinging to the walls.
Ayumi stopped just short of touching the doorknob.
"I don't think we should go in there."
Yui hesitated. "What if it's a way out?"
"Does it feel like a way out?" Ayumi shot back. "This place is screwing with us. It knows where we're from. What we've seen. What we regret."
Yui swallowed hard.
"Why show us the school?" she whispered.
Ayumi answered slowly. "Because it wants us to feel safe. Nostalgic. Than terrified."
Suddenly, the door creaked open by itself.
A long hallway stretched beyond it. Dim fluorescent lights hummed overhead. Lockers lined the walls — warped, their colors too pale, like they'd been drained. And at the very end of the hallway, barely visible, was a figure.
A girl. Facing away from them.
Long, dark hair. Bare feet on a linoleum floor. Motionless.
Yui grabbed Ayumi's arm without even thinking. "That's not real."
Ayumi was frozen too, her eyes locked on the figure. "Don't look away," she muttered. "If we blink, it's going to be closer."
But then — the lights overhead flickered off.
When they came back on, the girl was gone.
Yui's heartbeat roared in her ears.Ayumi stepped back and slammed the door shut with all her strength.
Ayumi sat down on the cold, rippling floor of the strange classroom, back pressed against the wall beneath the chalkboard. The desk chairs around them were half-sunken into the floor, twisted and misshapen like melted plastic.
Yui didn't stop. She kept walking a few steps before realizing Ayumi wasn't behind her.
She turned sharply. "Ayumi. Come on—get up."
Ayumi didn't look at her. She kept her eyes on the far wall, legs pulled slightly in. "I will. I just… I need a second. Just time to think."
Yui hesitated, her pulse still fluttering from the whispers and warped voices earlier. But she nodded slowly, walking back toward her.
Ayumi finally looked at her. Her voice was quiet, almost gentle. "Are you still scared?"
Yui didn't even pretend to lie. She nodded. "Of course I am."
Ayumi let out a small, dry chuckle. "Yeah. Me too." She rubbed her eyes and added, "This isn't something we've ever dealt with before. Honestly? I don't think Haru or his sister have either. Not even Kaito, and they've been doing this longer than all of us."
That made Yui more nervous somehow. The idea that even the experienced ones didn't know what they were walking through. She lowered herself down slowly, sitting next to Ayumi, curling her knees in toward her chest.
Her voice came out small. "Do you think everything's okay at home? My house… it was literally collapsing."
Ayumi didn't answer right away. She just stared at the ground and slowly shrugged. "I don't know."
Yui's shoulders shook.
The tears came slowly at first, then all at once — like the tension had been waiting for her to sit down, waiting for this moment of stillness to break through.
"I don't know what to do," Yui whispered, her voice cracking. "I don't know where we are, or what's happening, or what it even wants."
Ayumi immediately pulled her close, wrapping both arms around her tightly, her voice trembling. "Please don't cry," she whispered, her throat tight. "I hate when you cry…"
But Yui couldn't stop. She clung to Ayumi like a lifeline, her fingers curling into her vest.
Ayumi blinked hard. Her own eyes shimmered with tears now. "I'm scared… really scared…" she admitted, her voice breaking. "I'm trying so hard to stay strong… like you are. But I'm not. I don't know what things are like back home. I have no idea. I wish I knew."
Yui looked up at her, tear-streaked cheeks glowing faintly in the red light.
Ayumi smiled through her tears. "But… I have you. The girl I've known since I was four. My best friend. I think I would've lost myself already if I weren't here with you." Her voice cracked. "I love you so much, Yui."
Yui stared at her, eyes wide and soft, lips trembling. "I love you too," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "So much…"
They stayed like that, hugging each other tightly.
Yui leaned in closer, voice shaking. "Can we just stay here for a while…? Just five minutes…"
Ayumi nodded against her. "Yeah… just a bit. I'm not letting you go. I'm scared you'll disappear."
Yui didn't respond. She only nestled in closer, burying her face into Ayumi's neck, closing her eyes. Her breathing slowly calmed, and for the first time since they entered this place, she let herself feel warm.
Ayumi held her like she never wanted to let go.