Thursday, May 2 – Afternoon / St. Ivy High
The Whisper Starts
It didn't take long.
By fifth period, something was different in the way students moved through the halls.
They were slower. Quieter. Eyes darted more. Heads turned toward classroom doors that weren't theirs. Whispers traveled in small, careful waves.
"Someone left a letter under my seat."
"Did you see the origami frogs in the library window?"
"There's a sticker in the AV room that says you're doing your best and no one knows it."
Rumors started piling.
"I think it's a prank club."
"No—this feels too personal."
"What if it's a teacher?"
"What if it's... all of us?"
Teachers Aren't Immune
Mr. Brooks found a single piece of chocolate on his desk. No note. No explanation.
He stared at it like it might explode.
Meanwhile, a second-year literature teacher reported a mysterious gift in her drawer: a handwritten note on pale yellow paper that read:
"Your words actually reached someone. Thought you should know." She cried.
No one admitted to writing it.
The Group Chat Spiral
By lunch, a private group chat had been created in Class 1-A titled:
✧ Who's Behind the Kind Chaos ✧
Sofia renamed it six times trying to find a more appropriate title.
"It's not chaos."
"It's too elegant for chaos."
"It's… gentle disruption."
"That's worse."
"It's emotionally targeted mischief."
"There, fixed."
Emma responded with a period. That was it.
Tyler posted a photo of the banana in his locker, captioned:
"Is this some kind of high-concept therapy?"
Noah posted a blurry image of a smiley face drawn in chalk under a stairwell. Caption:
"Whoever this is, they need a hobby. And also my respect."
Jay read all of it.
Never reacted.
Clubs on Edge
By the time afternoon clubs kicked in, everyone was jumpy.
The Drama Club opened their storage closet to find a single hanger dressed in a cape and a paper crown. No note.
One club decided to clean their entire room early just to "make sure nothing weird happens."
The Photography Club caught a blurry shot of someone slipping a note under a desk—but the figure was wearing a hoodie and walked too fast to ID.
It spread faster from there.
"This isn't just Class 1-A."
"2-C got a cupcake with a napkin that said you're not invisible."
"My friend in 3-B said her pencil case had a poem inside this morning."
Conspiracies Begin
The theories hit the chalkboard by 3:30 PM.
Someone wrote in the corner of Class 1-A:
"WHO IS BEHIND THIS?"
Sofia added:
"It's too clean to be Noah. Too un-braggy to be Tyler. Too clever to be Miles."
Noah protested. "Excuse you."
Emma, still reading, muttered, "...It's not anyone obvious."
Jay was in his seat, writing nothing. Saying less.
Amaya passed him on her way to clean up the HE Club pantry and said under her breath:
"I'm impressed."
Jay only blinked once.
Didn't deny it.
Didn't confirm either.
The Teachers' Lounge Tension
After school, two teachers were overheard talking.
"Should we investigate this?"
"What's the crime? Being thoughtful?"
"It's... unsettlingly positive."
"So we do nothing?"
"It might just be a phase."
A third teacher walked in holding a folded paper star with a smiley face drawn on it and said:
"I'm keeping mine."
Jay on the Rooftop
As the school cleared out and clubrooms began to shut, Jay walked to the rooftop. Quiet steps. No intention.
The sun was soft again—just like Monday. Only now, the air buzzed with invisible threads. Something had been stirred.
He looked out over the school.
Below, a student taped something to the back wall of the school garden. He couldn't see what it was.
Someone else, across the courtyard, knelt down to leave a small envelope beneath a bench.
It wasn't just him anymore.
It never really was.
Jay smiled.
Not a smirk.
Not smug.
Just... warm.
The Final Night Message
Back home, he opened the club group chat.
Still anonymous.
Now sixteen members.
One person had posted a photo: a hand holding a note that read:
"If someone finds this, tell them I wasn't invisible."
Jay typed:
JAY:
Tomorrow. Last day.
No more signs.
No more tricks.
Just one thing:
Let them wonder.
Then he turned off his screen.
And went to sleep.