The night settled softly over the camp, the sky a quiet ocean of stars. The bonfire had long burned down to glowing embers, and laughter still drifted faintly through the cool air students finishing their dinners, sharing jokes, leaning close under the pale orange light.
I sat among them, smiling when expected, nodding when spoken to. My spoon moved, my lips curved, but none of it reached my eyes. Miyuki sat across from me, her laughter light, fragile. It wavered sometimes, like she wasn't sure whether to meet my gaze or not.
"Haruto, try this one!" one of the girls said, passing a bowl of soup.
"Thanks," I replied, pretending to taste it, the warmth spreading through my fingers rather than my tongue. The conversation went on about the food, the games tomorrow, and someone's bad singing during dinner. I smiled at the right moments. Played my part.
When the meal was done, Mr. Takahashi clapped his hands. "Alright, students! Wash your plates before heading to your tents. Tomorrow's going to be a long day!"
Miyuki stood beside me as we carried the dishes to the washing area by the stream. The moonlight shimmered on the water's surface, silver ripples dancing with the current. A few other students and the teacher were there, chatting quietly while rinsing plates.
Miyuki brushed past me, her shoulder grazing mine. "You should go rest," she murmured. "You look tired."
I gave her a small smile. "I'm fine. I'll sleep soon."
She nodded and bent to wash a cup. The sound of water running over her hands mixed with the chirping of distant crickets. The air smelled faintly of soap and damp grass. Every sound, every small gesture, felt sharper at night. Clearer.
When the last plate was stacked, the teacher yawned loudly. "Alright, that's enough for today. Everyone, lights out in fifteen minutes."
We returned to our tents under the soft wash of moonlight. Students whispered and giggled, some still buzzing with energy, others already half asleep. Miyuki disappeared into the girls' tent with a wave. I ducked inside mine, pretending to settle in with the others.
But I didn't sleep.
2:03 A.M.
The camp was silent now. Only the wind moved through the trees, whispering in low, secret tones. I slipped quietly from my sleeping bag and eased the zipper open. The cold air hit my face, fresh and sharp. Every step I took pressed softly into the damp grass, leaving faint prints behind.
No one stirred as I passed the other tents. Even the teachers' lantern had gone dark.
I walked toward the forest, guided by memory by the fragments that had haunted me all week. Every image had led here. Every night vision, every sound. The forest wasn't empty; it carried whispers of what was yet to happen.
I found a spot behind a thick bush near the waterfall the same one I'd seen before in those visions. I crouched down, breath shallow, heart steady.
Minutes passed. Maybe twenty. Maybe more. The night held its breath.
Then faint footsteps.
Two silhouettes moved through the trees, faint and hesitant under the moonlight. Miyuki. Souta.
They stopped near the same rock, the one half-covered with moss and dripping water. The distant rush of the waterfall filled the silence between them.
Souta spread his jacket on the grass. "You'll catch a cold lying there," he whispered, his voice low and casual.
Miyuki hesitated, glancing over her shoulder. "We shouldn't be here," she murmured. "If anyone sees us"
"No one's awake," he said. "Relax."
Her arms folded across her chest, uncertain. "Still… this isn't right."
"Then why did you come?"
She didn't answer. Instead, she lowered herself onto the jacket, staring up at the sky. Souta lay down beside her, their shoulders nearly touching.
For a while, they said nothing. Only the sound of water and the hum of night insects filled the space. Then Souta shifted closer.
"Miyuki," he whispered, his voice warm now, softer. "You keep saying this is wrong… but you keep coming back."
She turned her head toward him. "Don't"
"I just want to be near you. That's all."
"That's not true," she said quietly. "You always want more."
He smiled faintly, his hand brushing against hers. "Because you let me."
The air between them thickened. She didn't pull away. His hand slid over hers, fingers intertwining. The moment stretched thin and fragile then broke when he leaned closer and kissed her.
The sound was small, almost lost beneath the rushing water. But I heard it. I saw it their silhouettes, their movements, the faint glimmer of moonlight on her face.
Through the lens of my camera, the world narrowed to two faces, two bodies, pressed close. I pressed the shutter once. Twice. Three times.
Each click sounded like a heartbeat.
I lowered the camera and looked again not with rage, but with something quieter. A kind of stillness that came only when pain had burned itself out and left something colder behind.
They laughed softly. Whispered. He brushed her hair aside; she touched his arm. Harmless gestures, to anyone else. To me, they were proof.
I waited until their whispers faded, until they rose and slipped away through the trees, their shadows vanishing between trunks.
Then I stood up slowly. The ground was damp under my palms. The air heavy with the scent of moss and river water.
I checked the photos dark, grainy, but clear enough. Their faces were visible. The evidence, undeniable.
I saved them into a hidden folder on my phone, the same one that already held the others. Then I slipped quietly back toward camp.
When I crawled back into my tent, the others were still asleep, breathing softly. I stared at the ceiling of the tent, faintly illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the fabric.
This time, I didn't feel anger. Only clarity.
I know what I have to do.
Morning
The light crept over the camp in slow, golden waves. Birds began to sing, and the smell of damp earth and wood smoke filled the air.
I woke with the others, stretching, blinking as if I had slept soundly.
"Morning, Haruto!" Yui called out from the girls' side. Her best friend, Natsumi, waved too, her messy hair sticking in every direction.
"Morning," I said with a small smile.
Miyuki appeared next, eyes a little tired, but her smile practiced. "You slept well?" she asked softly.
"Yeah," I lied easily. "You?"
"Mm-hm," she said, looking away too quickly.
The teachers called everyone to gather after breakfast. Mr. Takahashi's voice boomed across the field. "Alright, everyone! Today we'll play a treasure hunt game. I've hidden several plastic markers around the forest. Each team will have five members. The team that collects the most will win a one-month free meal pass for the school canteen!"
Excited chatter rose instantly.
"Make your own teams!" the teacher added. "You don't have to stick with your classmates."
Students began moving quickly, shouting names, waving for friends to join.
"Haruto!" Yui called again, running over. "Join our group!"
Miyuki smiled uncertainly. "Can I join too?"
I shrugged lightly. "Sure."
Within a few minutes, our team was set: Me, Miyuki, Souta, Yui, and Natsumi Yui's best friend, quiet and sharp-eyed.
The teacher handed us a small map and a tag for our group. "You've got until noon," he said. "Remember, stay within the forest boundary. Don't go near the cliffs."
Everyone nodded. Excitement buzzed through the air as students scattered into the trees. Laughter echoed faintly as groups disappeared among the trunks.
I looked at the forest entrance sunlight filtering through the leaves, shadows dancing between the branches. The same forest where the night had swallowed secrets just hours before.
Miyuki stood beside me, brushing dust from her sleeve. "Looks like we're a team again," she said with a small smile.
I smiled back. "Yeah. Let's make it count."
Souta adjusted his backpack, flashing his usual grin. "Let's go win that meal pass."
Yui and Natsumi laughed, already arguing over who would read the map.
We walked together toward the forest. The air grew cooler under the trees. Leaves rustled softly above, the sunlight breaking through in shifting patterns.
To anyone watching, it looked like a simple school trip friends searching for prizes, joking and laughing under the trees.
But inside me, the quiet tension never left. Every step I took echoed with the memory of last night the whispers, the laughter, the soft sound of betrayal.
I walked behind them, my expression calm, my hands steady. No one could see the weight of what I carried.
The truth was already mine.
And soon, they would know what it felt like to live beneath it.