The basement archives weren't meant for living things. The air was heavy, stale, thick with the dust of decades. Yellowed files lined steel shelves that looked ready to collapse under their own weight. Each fluorescent light hummed with a sickly flicker, giving everything a sense of half-existence, caught between the past and the present.
Reina set her borrowed keycard down on a nearby desk, adjusting her glasses as if the gesture could steady the unease prickling her skin. Rika lingered close to me, her arm brushing mine every few steps, like she was afraid the shadows might pull her under if she drifted too far. Mayumi prowled ahead, flashlight beam cutting through the gloom, her stance already defensive.
"We're looking for 'Hoshino,'" I said quietly, eyes sweeping the stacks. "Yearbooks, accident logs, custodial records. Anything that mentions a fall, a student death, or staff cover-up."
