This was supposed to be a normal day.
It stopped being one the moment the principal cleared his throat.
"Ehemmm, mic test." A voice echoed through the wide space filled with students. The source of that sound was a man in his fifties, standing behind the podium.
"Students … we are gathered today to honor the memory of one of our own," the man continued.
A murmur rippled among the students seated below.
"Earlier this morning, one of our students was involved in a traffic accident. Despite medical efforts, he did not survive."
He didn't say a name.
That made it worse.
A pause followed. Not long. Just long enough for the room to fill the silence on its own.
"Truck," someone whispered behind me.
"I heard he pushed someone."
"Senior, right?"
The principal kept talking, but the room had already moved on.
I leaned back in my chair, watching him speak. His expression was solemn, but distant, like this was another required segment in a schedule already running late. I wondered how many times he'd practiced that tone.
"Pssssstt." A familiar whisper came from my right.
"I know that guy," the voice said quietly. "His name was Alex. I heard he got hit by a truck while pushing someone out of the way."
I didn't bother turning my head. The owner of that voice was Nate, my best friend. We'd been friends since childhood, and somehow, we kept ending up in the same class every year.
"They say he came from a rich family," he continued. "And he had a twin sister. Chloe, I think. They are our senior too."
I nodded along as he talked. Nate had always been like this. He talked no matter the place nor the situation.
"And you know what else…."
"Can we talk later?" I muttered. "Ms. Angel is staring at us." I tilted my thumb toward the teachers lining the wall. The one I meant was our homeroom teacher, Ms. Angel. She stood among them, arms crossed.
But Nate didn't care. He kept talking.
"But you know what…."
Just like I warned him, a shadow fell over us, a sign that someone was standing behind us.
I glanced toward the wall. Ms. Angel was no longer there.
Nate still hadn't noticed.
"I'm just saying….Ow, Ow, Ow!"
Ms. Angel pinched his ear and yanked him up by it.
"Nate," she said softly. "Stand."
"To where?" he asked, already wincing.
"The back," she replied, dragging him away.
She looked at me as well.
As if I were just as guilty.
I wasn't. I had warned him. But he didn't listen.
As Nate was pulled away, he still had the audacity to glance back at me, looking like I had betrayed him.
You did this to yourself, I mouthed.
The principal's voice continued in the background. By the time the assembly ended, nearly an hour had passed. Chairs scraped loudly against the floor as students stood, the sound echoing throughout the auditorium. Conversations resumed immediately.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a familiar figure running toward me. I didn't need to guess who it was. Of course, it was Nate.
"Wow," he muttered. "You sold me out."
"I warned you," I replied as I started walking toward our classroom.
He grinned, like detention was just another story he'd already survived.
--------------------------------------
When we arrived, the room was still mostly empty. Only a few students had returned. It seemed like most of them had gone to the cafeteria instead.
I sat at my desk. Nate took the seat next to me.
Beside me, Nate tapped his fingers against the desk.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap-tap. Pause. Tap.
I glanced at him.
"You're doing the thing."
He looked at me and grinned. "What thing?"
"The thing where you're about to do something stupid."
"You say that like it's bad."
"The last time you did this, we got locked in a storage room."
"We escaped."
"We were lucky someone needed equipment and opened the door. Otherwise…"
He shrugged. "Still escaped."
I rubbed my forehead.
"But this time it's different," he said. "Trust me."
"My trust still locked in that storage room."
"One last time. Please. You won't regret it."
"What now?"
"Just follow me after school."
"No," I said flatly. "I'm not doing this."
Nate leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
"If you come with me, I'll delete The Photo."
I froze. I turned to look at him slowly.
"You said you already deleted it."
"I said I moved it to a hidden folder," Nate smirked, looking entirely too proud of himself. "But if you come with me today, I'll delete it for real. Permanently. I'll even let you watch me click the button."
The Photo was a picture of me from middle school that needed to be erased from the face of the earth. If that got out, my high school social life was over.
I narrowed my eyes at him. This was low. Even for him.
Ding ding ding ding. Ding ding ding ding.
The bell rang before I could argue.
"Fine," I snapped, standing up. "But you delete it immediately after."
"Deal," Nate beamed. "To the old building!"
---------------------------------------
We arrived at an area covered in warning tape.
"Isn't this place blocked off?"
"The tape fell off," Nate said quickly.
"You peeled it."
He paused. "…How do you always know?"
"Because tape doesn't fall like that." I pointed toward the remnant still clinging to the wall, a clean tear where someone had tampered with it.
A familiar thought crept in. This is a setup. Some dumb stunt.
He met my gaze, unblinking.
"Alright, no comment, Just come see," he said quietly. "Then you can tell me if I'm insane."
"You are."
"You haven't even seen it yet."
I exhaled slowly and followed him.
The old building was colder than the main one. Dust coated the area, like no one had passed through in months. At least, that's how it should have been.
But on the floor, there were footprints. It didn't take a genius to know who they belonged to.
Nate stopped in front of a single door at the end of the corridor.
"This is it."
He pushed the door open.
The room inside was a mess. Shelves were disorganized. Cardboard boxes were stacked at odd angles. Broken chairs were shoved into corners like forgotten bodies. Dust covered everything.
At first, I didn't notice anything strange.
Then I noticed the desk in the middle of the room.
A single desk, standing alone.
And on that desk was a book.
A thick leather cover, dark edges, no title.
"This," I said slowly, "is what you wanted to show me?"
Nate nodded and pointed at the book. "It does something."
"Books don't do things."
"Trust me. This one does."
I almost laughed. This was it? All that buildup for a prop?
I opened my mouth to argue…
But then, suddenly, the air shifted.
Sound dulled. Pressure pressed in from all sides. The book snapped open.
Its pages flipped violently before stopping. The page was filled with strange symbols I couldn't understand. Then words formed above the open pages, floating in the air.
A voice filled the room.
[You have returned.]
Nate looked at me with a face that clearly said see?
I turned, scanning the ceiling, the walls, the corners. Searching for speakers, wires, anything in this abandoned room but still there was nothing.
My stomach tightened.
Is this a prank? I thought, glancing at Nate.
I kept looking around, trying to find the speaker or some kind of trick.
[I instructed you to come alone.]
"He's my best friend," Nate said.
[…]
A pause.
[Unnecessary.]
Even though I was still shocked, I managed to mutter, "Wow. Rude."
"Are you trying to prank me, Nate? Where's the camera?" I said, throwing an arm around his shoulder. It didn't sound convincing. Not even to myself.
The book shifted its attention toward me, as if evaluating.
[A human with no talent.]
"…Excuse me?" I said. "My ranking is higher than his."
I pointed at Nate.
No response.
"What prank?" Nate asked, confused.
From his expression, it didn't seem like he was lying.
Maybe someone was pranking him, and he dragged me into it. But was it really possible for a book to float like this?
With those words hanging in the air, it didn't feel like a prank anymore. If it was, someone put way too much effort into it.
Slowly, I began to accept that this was real. It was too strange, too crazy to be fake.
"That book is weird," I whispered. "Let's leave."
Nate followed me. "See? I told you there was something interesting here."
As he walked out, he waved. "See you next time, book."
[…]
The book didn't respond.
I walked beside him. "Let's leave now."
"And you know what?" he added. "It said it'll teach me magic."
"Magic? Like comics and cartoons?"
"Anime," he snapped. "And manga."
"Same thing."
We argued as we left.
But the feeling in my chest didn't go away.
From that encounter, I knew one thing.
Whatever that thing was, it didn't want me.
It wanted Nate.
And for the first time that day.
I understood what it meant to be standing in the wrong place when something important happened.