The end-of-class bell rang with a sharp chime, its echo rolling across the room like a wave. Students immediately stirred, some already shoving notebooks into bags, eager to escape the sweltering afternoon heat.
At the front, their young homeroom teacher — a woman in her mid-twenties with the patience of a saint, made one last attempt to hold them back.
"Alright, one more thing before you go—" she began, raising her voice just enough to compete with the scraping of chairs. She gripped her notebook as if sheer willpower could anchor her students in place for just a few more minutes.
A few students glanced up, their eyes half-lidded from the drowsy heat, while others froze mid-escape, one hand on a desk, the other clutching their bag, suspended between manners and freedom.
Outside, the late-June sky was a brilliant blue, clouds drifting lazily apart to let the sun shine through. The warm light streamed in through the tall windows, spilling across perfectly aligned rows of desks — most now empty. It landed warm against bare forearms and the cool metal of desk frames, making them hot to the touch where the light lingered.
At one of them, slouched forward with his head resting on crossed arms, a boy slept soundly. Messy brown hair fell over round, crooked glasses, and a faint smudge of drool glistened on the desk beneath him. The sun's golden glow stretched across his back like a lazy spotlight, catching in the frames of his glasses.
Lucid.
By now, only a handful of students remained, usually the same ones. At the front, a girl with pinkish-gray hair leaned forward, her eyes bright with curiosity as she peppered the teacher with questions. Perched casually on a desk next to Lucid sat another girl — bright red hair tied into a loose ponytail, with a few strands falling across her forehead and freckled cheeks. A Pocky stick dangled from the corner of her lips, swaying slightly as she watched the scene.
Near the far wall windows, a tall boy with perfect posture stood gazing out the window, hands clasped neatly behind his back. His straight black hair framed a face so smooth and well-kept it bordered on doll-like.
"—Aika-san, you're a second-year. This material isn't even in your program, let alone next year's," the teacher said with a tired smile.
The pink-haired girl—Aika, didn't seem to let up the barrage of questions as one thing led to another in her mind. All the while the poor teacher tried to keep up with her train of thoughts. She was too absorbed in the discussion.
The redhead, Kaori—the name written on her desk, leaned back on her hands, glancing sidelong toward the sleeping boy. The corners of her lips twitched, like she was holding back a grin.
"Lucid~ wake up," she called, her voice lilting just enough to sound innocent.
The boy groaned in protest, slowly lifting his head. His glasses had slid halfway down his nose, and his hair stuck out at strange angles. Blinking, he rubbed at his face like the sunlight itself was attacking him.
The teacher's gaze caught him instantly.
"Lucid, I know summer vacation is just around the corner, but your midterm results were barely passing. Please… try to focus more in class."
Still half-asleep, Lucid jolted upright with a sudden burst of panic, nearly knocking over his chair. He bowed stiffly.
"S-SORRY, MISS!"
The teacher blinked, clearly unsure how to react to the dramatic display. She managed a small smile.
"Don't apologize to me. This is for your own future, Lucid-kun."
From her desk perch, Kaori smirked.
"That too. But also she doesn't wanna see you repeating the year."
The teacher chuckled softly. "No, no… it's just that you won't have me next year if you end up repeating, which is pretty unfortunate since I hear the others are stricter than me."
"That's an absolute lie you assaulted me with six weeks worth of material as homework." Lucid shot back.
Realizing how much time had slipped away, she clapped her hands, momentarily breaking up the chatter and bringing the moment to an abrupt halt.
"Alright, I'm afraid that's all for today. Even if summer is coming, I've prepared a quiz for next week, so be sure to review and go over your material once more."
"Right, Lucid?"
Lucid slumped into his seat with the expression of someone told their weekend had just been cancelled.
A firm smack landed on the back of his head.
"OW! What the hell was that for?!" he hissed, clutching the spot.
Renji — the boy by the window, withdrew his hand without a flicker of remorse. His uniform looked as though it had been ironed moments ago, every seam crisp.
"You were about to start drooling again," he said simply.
Kaori laughed, tossing the empty Pocky stick wrapper into the bin. Even Aika allowed herself a small smile.
"Alright, everyone, head home," the teacher said, waving them off.
They walked the empty corridors together, their footsteps echoing faintly. Most of the building was deserted — many students had already left for summer vacation, and a few teachers had taken early leave.
The afternoon sun bathed the halls in golden light as they reached the school's front entrance. A familiar janitor gave them a nod in passing, and they returned it without breaking stride.
Renji led the group, walking just ahead with Aika. The two spoke in low, easy tones about their upcoming club meetings. Lucid trailed a step behind them, hands in his pockets, his gaze shifting lazily between his friends.
Renji was a top A-ranked student, excelling in both academics and athletics. Naturally, even with summer vacation drawing near, he still showed up to class without fail.
Aika, much like Renji, served as the class representative. She excelled in mathematics, Japanese, and virtually every other subject. On top of that, she led an extracurricular club after school. Coming from a wealthy family, she bore the weight of high expectations, and so she, too, remained diligent even as the summer break approached.
Kaori was an exceptionally athletic student, renowned for her speed on the track and her victories in the school's baseball matches. However, she had recently injured her knee, forcing her to take things easy. She laughed it off when others asked, saying it was nothing, but her days were now quieter, her energy redirected toward catching up on her studies.
And then, looking down at the ground, was himself—Lucid.
He lagged behind in just about everything, never quite keeping pace with the others. Sports weren't his strong suit either. His favorite way to spend free time was simple: playing games or reading manga, losing himself in worlds far removed from his own.
In the early days of high school, he'd been the target of rumours and *Friendly bullying*—stories about his home life that spread quickly and stuck. Most of them weren't exaggerated. His father was a drunk, spending what little money he had left on gambling. The truth was, life at home had been hard.
Years ago, his father had lost his wife and other child in a car accident. It broke him, twisting him into someone who drowned his pain in bottles and gambling. Yet, he was never cruel to Lucid—never raised a hand to him. Still, the weight of it all pressed down on Lucid's shoulders.
He lagged behind in most parts of life, juggling school with part-time work, often skipping meals just to get by. In his own way, it was diligence—just not the kind that earned praise or full marks from his teachers.
And yet, despite everything, Lucid felt happy. Lucky, even. To be part of a group like this, friends who didn't treat him like an outsider—was more than someone like him could have asked for.
"Hey, dork," Kaori called out.
"Wanna go to the arcade?"
Of all the group, Kaori was the one who connected with Lucid the most. She was always quick to throw out a nickname, quick to tease, but also the one who listened to him the most when it mattered.
"When are you gonna stop calling me that?" Lucid asked, his voice light and playful.
Kaori's lips curled into an amused smile.
"Never~" she sang, drawing out the word just to make him roll his eyes.
By now, the evening had settled in. The sun was dipping below the skyline, staining the horizon with a soft, ethereal wash of purples and oranges. Tall buildings caught the last light, their glass reflecting the warm hues, while the streetlamps flickered awake one by one.
Just across the street, Lucid, Renji, Kaori, and Aika made their way to the arcade. The four of them lost track of time—playing games, laughing over their hopeless attempts at the claw machine—each one ending with empty hands, cheering when Renji lost miserably to Lucid in an arcade match, only for Lucid to be absolutely demolished by a little kid moments later and lastly, singing karaoke until their voices gave out.
"Hey, Kaori," Lucid said with a smirk, "looked like you were having the time of your life back there, singing like that."
She scoffed, tossing him a sharp look, though the grin tugging at her lips betrayed her. The others chuckled softly, their laughter mixing with the fading music and the low hum of the city around them.
"Oh, so we're gonna go that route, huh?" she said, narrowing her eyes in mock challenge.
She tilted her head toward him. "Say, how many rounds did you lose to that kid again?"
Lucid froze, caught off guard. His mind scrambled for a comeback, something—anything—he could throw back at her.
"Man, here I thought games might be your strong suit," she continued, eyes glinting mischievously, "since academically and physically you're kinda falling behind… but I guess there are rare exceptions that suck at both."
"HEY!" Lucid shot back, his voice rising in protest, cheeks heating.
The group burst into laughter—light and unrestrained. Everyone except Lucid, who stood there scowling, though the corner of his mouth twitched.
"Relax, it's just a joke," Kaori said with a playful shrug.
"I'm not doing that great academically either."
Lucid exhaled, sliding his hands into his pockets. A small, genuine smile found its way onto his face. It was Friday night—what better time to laugh, to trade jabs, and to spend these fleeting hours with friends?
Renji glanced at the time on his phone. Somehow, the hours had slipped by surprisingly fast. Though none of them had pressing obligations early the next day, they all knew it was time to return to their routines.
Without a word, Renji stood up and waved a casual goodbye over his shoulder as he walked away.
Aika paused for a moment, then excused herself with a polite bow, clasping her purse tightly before stepping off.
That left Lucid and Kaori.
They shared a strange kind of synergy—one loved to tease and poke fun, while the other listened quietly, taking it all in with calm sarcastic patience.
Like usual?" Lucid asked.
"Such a stupid question," Kaori shot back without missing a beat.
Lucid motioned ahead as she playfully slapped the back of his head, leaving him momentarily frustrated—but after a quick breath, he composed himself. The two of them walked beneath the soft glow of the blue moonlight, the quiet streets stretching out before them. They had left the bustling urban center behind, now wandering through a residential neighborhood where cars were parked along the curb and houses stood neatly in rows. As always, Kaori strolled with both hands resting behind her head, a pocky stick balanced between her lips. Lucid wore his vintage headphones—the ones he always brought to school—and kept both hands tucked deep in his pockets as they walked.
Kaori watched him quietly, her eyes tracing the familiar way he walked. She couldn't help but reminisce about the day they first met.
She had been running late for a big event—a baseball tournament she couldn't afford to miss. The problem was, there was no public transport that day, and she was desperate not to be late. Then, out of nowhere, Lucid had spotted her struggling. Without hesitation, he asked where she was headed. Without much thought, he offered her a seat on the back of his bicycle, and then pedalled like his life depended on it. By some miracle, they made it just in time. Kaori remembered bowing repeatedly, thanking him at least ten times before entering the arena, overwhelmed with gratitude.
That day, Lucid became her unexpected ally. They didn't speak much after that moment—until they crossed paths again in high school. From the moment they reunited, their friendship blossomed quickly. Lucid introduced her to Renji, his long-time friend, and Aika, who he'd known since elementary school.
Over time, they spent countless moments together, forging an unbreakable bond—a group that felt like it would last a lifetime.
"Hey, stop staring at me. Have you actually fallen for me?" Lucid teased, a sly grin tugging at his lips.
"Yeah, I have," Kaori replied flatly, her expression unreadable, without a hint of a smile.
Lucid now having his headphones half resting on one ear, looked up slowly, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
"Oh?"
"Yes… give me your hand."
She reached out gently, sliding her fingers between his and wrapping her hand around his hand as if she was gently feeling it.
She giggled
"Tehe... why are you so tense.."
What started as a soft touch quickly turned into a grip so tight Lucid was practically begging for release.
"UGH, IT HURTS!" he yelled through clenched teeth.
"Oh, darling, I'm confessing my love to you—just hold on a little longer." Her voice suddenly deepened.
Lucid sank to his knees, clutching her hands, now with veins bulging under the skin from the pressure she applied.
Finally, she let go.
"Pheww," Lucid sighed in relief, rubbing his aching hand.
Kaori laughed, watching his trembling figure.
"Geez, I know I'm stronger than most boys in our class and all, but it's no fun if there's no resistance."
Lucid stood, pointing toward the nearby houses.
"Just go home."
Kaori managed a faint smirk and waved goodbye. As Lucid watched her walk away, the bright white of her school uniform glowing softly under the pale moonlight, he smiled to himself.
"Well, time to go home," Lucid said softly as he slipped his orange vintage headphones fully onto his ears, letting his favorite music fill his senses. He hummed along quietly.
The night was breath-taking. Streetlights were now on, casting pools of golden light over the sidewalks. The cool evening breeze brushed gently against his skin, soothing and calm.
As he walked, everything seemed normal. The usual cars were parked near his neighborhood—nothing out of place. He hummed again, occasionally busting a little move as the music carried him forward.
For Lucid, the night was perfect.
Until something felt off.
There was no one outside anymore. No cars passed by since Kaori had gone home. No birds chirped. No squirrels darted across the yards. Nothing stirred.
Everything had gone oddly quiet.
He circled the block.
Again thinking he had taken the wrong direction this time.
He circled the block again only to be met with the same scenery.
Three times, seeing the same three cars each time:
A blue van. A red truck. A black SUV.
"Huh, that's weird," he muttered.
Trying not to overthink it, he turned left again, convinced his mind was playing tricks on him.
But there they were again—right where he'd seen them before.
A blue van. A red truck. A black SUV.
"What the—" he whispered under his breath.
Panic rising, he hurried back the way he'd come, practically running, only to find himself back at the spot where he'd started, just before the turn he'd been about to take.
Lucid's stomach twisted. Had he somehow passed out at the arcade? Did Kaori hold him too tight, cutting off his blood circulation and giving him a heart attack?
"This is weird," he thought, his heart pounding.
Then behind him, came the sharp sound of shattering glass.
In one swift motion, Lucid spun around, headphones pulled off and dangling from one hand. His glasses caught the moonlight as he twisted to face the sound.
There, suspended in midair, a crack appeared—a tear in the very fabric of the air itself. Its edges shimmered faintly with a white outline, like a doorway parting the space between worlds.
Inside the tear, there was nothing but pitch-black void.
Dark.
That was until something stepped through it. Something or someone, or some creature, or whatever it was, took a step in front of Lucid, pulling its body out and revealing its hideous form.
'What the— is someone playing a prank on me?' he thought.
The creature had come out of the rift-like tear. Now looking at him, it was bipedal, but it didn't look human. For one, it was absurdly tall—about three meters and extremely thin, its body seemingly made of shadows that flickered and shifted.
It took a step forward, closing the distance. Lucid, sensing something terribly wrong, darted the opposite way, running. This time, instead of taking the left block, he turned right. As he did, he slammed into something unseen and fell hard on his butt. There was an invisible wall there.
"No!"
He looked back, relieved that nothing was there. He scrambled to his feet, trying to run—until he saw the creature's leg step into view again.
His heart sank the moment their eyes met. He darted forward just as the creature's head turned toward him, taking advantage of the fact it hadn't yet crossed the four-way intersection.
He tried to go another way, but slammed into another wall. He hit it so hard that his glasses shattered and his nose started bleeding.
Staggering to his feet, he looked back. The creature was closing in, its pace seemingly quickened—steady and cold, like a predator hunting wounded prey, fully aware that time was running out.
Step by step. Step by step.
Step by step.