Taki stared at the photo in his hand. His fingers shook.
"Stay away from Yuki. You don't know what you're getting into."
That was the message written on the back.
He looked around. The street was empty. The sun was still up, but the air felt cold.
"Who gave this to me?" he whispered.
He folded the photo and slipped it into his pocket. His chest felt tight as he walked fast — almost running — all the way home.
At home, Taki sat on the edge of his bed. His mind wouldn't calm down. He looked around his room. His eyes stopped on an old drawer.
He opened it slowly and pulled out a small wooden box. It was dusty. Inside was a crayon drawing: two kids under a red umbrella. One of them looked like him. The other had long black hair.
In the corner, the name "Yuki" was written in shaky letters.
Taki's heart skipped. "I drew this?"
A memory came back — a rainy day, a little girl crying under an umbrella.
"Don't forget me, okay?" she said.
A pinky promise.
Taki sat still. "Yuki… were we friends when we were little?"
Just then, his phone buzzed.
It was a message from Yuki:
"Meet me at the old library after school tomorrow. I'll tell you everything. Come alone."
Taki stared at the screen. His hands felt cold.
The next morning, on the way to school, someone bumped into him.
"Sorry," Taki said.
The boy didn't answer. He had short black hair, pale skin, and cold eyes. He leaned close and whispered, "You still have time to stop. Don't make the same mistake again."
Then he walked away.
Taki turned to look, but the boy was gone.
"What mistake?" he said quietly.
After school, Taki walked to the old library. It was a quiet, empty place now. No one really went there anymore.
He opened the door.
Yuki was already inside, standing near the window. She turned and smiled when she saw