The room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of Ayaka's laptop on the desk. Dust floated in the air, stirred whenever someone shifted. Kōki sat stiffly, his hands pressed against his knees as if anchoring himself, while Sayoko hovered nearby, her translucent form faint but unmistakable.
"So… do you believe me now?" Kōki asked, his voice carrying a slight tremor.
Ayaka turned to face him, her eyes wide and her lips trembling. "Yes… I do. The only person who knew all that you just said… was Sayoko." She pressed a hand to her chest, overwhelmed with emotions that left her struggling to keep her breathing steady.
"Great work, Sayoko. Just keep pushing it, and maybe he'll finally agree to help us," said Takuto casually as his head slipped right through the wall, half his body unseen on the other side.
"Ugh—shut up! And seriously, can you not keep doing that? You'll freak him out!" Sayoko snapped, her cheeks puffing out in frustration. She swung her foot toward him, kicking his head back through the wall. The thud echoed faintly.
Kōki's shoulders jerked upward. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, his skin prickling with cold sweat. "That was… not normal."
"Oh, I almost forgot to ask," Sayoko said quickly, turning back to him as if to steer the conversation away. Her voice softened. "I haven't seen Yuri around. Where is she?"
Kōki lowered his eyes. "Yuri… died two years ago. She was run over by a car."
Sayoko froze, her eyes widening before lowering with quiet sorrow. "Oh… I didn't know. Poor cat." Her tone softened to a whisper, each word dripping with regret.
Before Kōki could respond, a sudden flash of light flickered near the window. Sayoko blinked, tilting her head.
"What was that just now?" she asked, puzzled.
Ayaka, already standing by her desk, leaned closer to the screen. "Kō, come look at this!" she called. Her voice carried a mix of shock and unease.
Kōki stood, his knees unsteady as he crossed the room. He leaned over her shoulder, his breath catching as he saw the blurry footage.
"It's not clear… but she really is there. Floating in the air…" Ayaka whispered, her voice cracking. Goosebumps dotted her arms. "This is… kind of creepy."
Sayoko cleared her throat, floating closer with a more serious expression. "Um, Kōki-kun, there's something I wanted to tell you."
He turned to her, his brows knitting together. "What is it? Is that why you followed me here?" His voice was hesitant, edged with a flicker of fear.
"Yes." She clasped her hands together in front of her chest, lowering her eyes. "We… we have reason to believe my death wasn't an accident. It was a homicide."
Kōki stiffened. "What do you mean?" His voice rose, surprised by the weight of her words.
Sayoko raised her gaze again, her face calm yet resolute. "My death wasn't an accident. Someone killed me." She spoke matter-of-factly, as though saying it aloud solidified the truth. "That's why I'm so relieved you can see me, Kōki-kun. You can help me figure out who took my life. If I don't… I'll never be able to pass on to the next life."
As she spoke, Sayoko floated casually above his head, her hair shifting as if stirred by a faint breeze that wasn't there.
"I see…" Kōki muttered, his chest tightening. He scratched the side of his arm, unsure how to respond. "I don't know how I'll be able to help you… but I'll try. I'll see what I can do."
Sayoko's expression brightened, her eyes glimmering with sudden hope. "Oh, thank you, Kōki-kun! You're the best!" She leaned forward to hug him, her form rushing toward him—only to pass straight through his body.
Kōki let out a strangled yelp, stumbling backward as a sharp chill ran up his spine. His teeth chattered slightly. "P-please don't do that again. It's creepy!"
"Okay, okay, I won't!" Sayoko raised her hands defensively, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "It's just that I'm so happy right now."
She lowered her voice again, more thoughtful. "I don't remember everything surrounding my death… it's like most of my memories disappeared when I crossed over. But there are pieces left. I didn't forget you, Kōki-kun. Or a guy named Arata… he was a good friend of mine."
"So, what you're saying is that someone… actually killed you?" Kōki asked, his tone firm yet unsure.
Ayaka frowned, watching her brother's lips move as if he were in mid-conversation. "Kō… who are you talking to? Is it Sayoko?"
"Stay quiet for a minute. I'm trying to think," Kōki said, raising his hand toward her without breaking his gaze from Sayoko.
Sayoko continued, her brows slightly furrowed. "When I met Ayaka earlier… all these memories of her started to come back. Do you think that means anything?"
Kōki folded his arms, tapping his fingers against his sleeve. He looked at her with a sharp seriousness. "It's possible. The people you remember… they might either be connected to your death, or they might be the ones who can help uncover the truth. And as for those fragments of memory—maybe seeing people you knew in life triggers them. If that's the case, we should bring you into contact with as many people from your past as possible."
Sayoko's eyes sparkled with renewed energy. "That's amazing, Kōki-kun! So, can we get started right now? It's way too boring hanging around in your room!"
Before Kōki could answer, Takuto's head slipped through the wall again. "Yeah, let's go already!" he chimed in cheerfully.
Startled, Kōki whipped around too quickly, his heel catching on the edge of the step behind him. He stumbled backward, tumbling down the stairs with a loud crash.
"Kō!" Ayaka shouted, rushing to the edge of the steps.
"Kōki-kun!" Sayoko floated down after him, her voice trembling with worry.
Kōki groaned, clutching his back as he sat up against the wall. "Ow… damn it. Who the hell is that dead guy anyway?!" His voice cracked with both pain and irritation. "He just keeps popping up and doing that creepy thing with his head."
Sayoko hovered nearby, her face sympathetic. "I'm not sure myself. He told me his name was Takuto. I met him in the old section of the school, where I first woke up. He kept calling my name, so I thought he knew me. But… like me, he doesn't remember anything from before."
"I see…" Kōki muttered, his breath heavy as he tried to absorb everything. His pulse was still racing from the fall.
Sayoko's tone softened, her voice almost trembling. "It's strange, isn't it? Both of us—stuck in this in-between world, trying to put together the fragments of who we were. But… I still have hope. With your help, Kōki-kun, maybe we can solve the mystery of my death. And maybe we'll figure out what's going on with Takuto too."
Kōki met her gaze, his expression conflicted but firm. "I don't know how we're going to figure this out… but if it means helping you, I'll try. I'll do whatever I can."
Sayoko's eyes softened, shimmering faintly as though on the verge of tears. "Thank you… Kōki-kun." Her whisper was full of gratitude, almost fragile.