The rain had come again—soft at first, then hard, then relentless.
By second period, students were muttering curses about forgotten umbrellas and canceled club meetings. The wind howled against the glass like something trying to get in. But to Ren, the sound was strangely calming.
Rain was honest. It didn't hide its presence.
Unlike people.
---
After his last class, he took a detour—his feet carrying him on memory alone.
He walked toward the old wing of the school, where forgotten classrooms and unused storage rooms lingered like dust-covered secrets.
It was by accident he ended up there—he told himself.
The door to the music room was slightly ajar.
A soft melody floated through the air—tentative, broken, like someone remembering how to play a song they hadn't touched in years.
He pushed the door.
Inside, a girl sat at the upright piano, her fingers resting on the chipped keys. Long hair fell around her face like a curtain of ink. She didn't look up.
"I figured it was you," she said. Her voice was airy, distant. "The boy with haunted eyes."
Ren frowned. "Do I… know you?"
The girl turned.
Haruka Miyazawa. Her uniform was tidy, her expression unreadable. But her eyes—those violet eyes—studied him like a question left unanswered too long.
"You don't," she replied, tilting her head. "But maybe you did. In another life."
Ren blinked.
Haruka smiled faintly. "They say this school's music room is haunted, you know."
"I don't believe in ghosts."
"That's okay," she said, rising from the bench. "They believe in you."
He shifted uncomfortably.
"I've seen you before," she continued, walking slowly around the piano. "In town. But you always walk like you're not really there. Like someone half-awake."
Ren said nothing.
Haruka stopped in front of him. Close, but not too close.
"You're carrying something heavy, aren't you?"
He narrowed his eyes. "…What are you trying to say?"
She smiled again, softer this time. "Nothing cruel. Just... be careful. Ghosts like to cling to people with empty spaces."
Before he could respond, a loud chime rang out—the final bell.
Haruka turned toward the window. "Looks like the rain's only getting worse."
She turned back toward him, brushing her bangs behind her ear. "See you again, Ichinose."
He opened his mouth to ask how she knew his name—
But she was already gone.
---
Outside, the world was gray and glistening. Rain poured like spilled glass from the sky.
Ren stepped out with his schoolbag held over his head. It was pointless. His shoulders were already soaked.
"Hey!"
He turned to see Nao Inoue sprinting toward him, umbrella in hand—pink, with little white cats on the edges. She skidded to a stop beside him, panting.
"Dumbass," she muttered. "You'll get pneumonia."
He frowned. "I didn't ask you to—"
"Yeah, yeah, I know. You didn't ask. But I felt bad for your sad little ghost aura." She smirked and raised the umbrella higher. "C'mon. We're walking together."
"…Fine."
They walked in awkward silence for a few blocks. Nao occasionally peeked at him, but Ren stared ahead, unfazed.
Finally, she broke the silence.
"So… you always that gloomy, or just since moving here?"
Ren didn't answer.
She laughed. "Okay, okay, I get it. You're a mystery man. Broody and sad."
He glanced at her. "You don't have to walk with me, you know."
Nao grinned. "Yeah, but I want to. I think I'm the only person here brave enough to talk to the cursed transfer student."
"…Cursed?"
"You haven't heard the rumors? People say weird stuff about you and your sister. Like… you're too close."
Ren's steps faltered for just a second. "They're just stories."
Nao nodded. "Yeah. But stories come from somewhere, don't they?"
He didn't respond.
As they reached his neighborhood, the wind grew heavier. Rain lashed sideways now. Nao leaned in closer under the umbrella.
Ren glanced up—just in time to see someone watching from the window.
Sayuri.
She stood perfectly still, framed in the soft light of their old house.
Their eyes met for only a second before the curtain fell.
---
That night, Ren lay in bed, half-asleep, his thoughts still tangled around Haruka's words.
"Ghosts like to cling to people with empty spaces."
What did she mean? What part of him was empty?
He didn't have time to wonder long.
The door creaked softly.
He turned.
Sayuri stepped in, wearing one of his oversized hoodies. Her hair was still slightly damp from her bath.
She didn't speak.
She walked up to the bed and knelt beside him. Then, slowly, she climbed under the blanket and pressed herself against his back.
Ren stiffened.
"Sayuri…"
Her arms slid around him.
"I saw you," she whispered. "With that girl."
He didn't say anything.
Sayuri's fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt.
"Do you like her?"
"…It's not like that."
"Do you like her?" she asked again.
Silence.
Then, quietly—
"No."
Sayuri exhaled. Her breath trembled.
"Then don't leave me behind."
She tightened her hold. Her forehead pressed gently against his back.
"I'm still here, Ren," she whispered. "Even if everyone else forgot... I didn't."
He closed his eyes.
And for the first time in a long while—he felt something he couldn't name.
---