The days after the mirror incident passed in a blur.
Classes resumed.
Teachers droned on about history and science as if nothing had happened.
Students laughed in the hallways, oblivious to the nightmare hidden in the abandoned wing.
But for Kaito, Airi, Riku, and Daichi, nothing felt normal anymore.
They sat together on the rooftop during lunch, the cold wind tugging at their uniforms.
None of them spoke much at first, the silence stretched taut between them.
Finally, Airi broke it.
"Do you think it's over?" she asked quietly, twirling a lock of her pink hair around her finger.
Her eyes were shadowed with fear.
Kaito glanced down at the pendant lying heavy around his neck.
Its once-bright glow had faded to a dull shimmer, like a dying star.
"I don't know," he admitted. "But I don't think the mirror broke for good."
Riku leaned back against the fence, frowning.
"I keep having these weird dreams," he muttered.
"About places that aren't real. About... voices calling my name."
Daichi grunted.
"Same here. Only mine are worse."
He looked at Kaito seriously.
"Something's still connected to us. I can feel it."
Kaito nodded.
He'd been hearing the whispers too.
Late at night, just as he was falling asleep — faint voices threading through the dark, calling him back.
Back to the mirror.
He shivered.
"I think we woke something up," he said.
"Something that doesn't want to let us go."
The bell rang, cutting the conversation short.
They exchanged uneasy glances before gathering their things.
None of them wanted to talk about what came next — not yet.
But they all knew it: whatever they had unleashed, it wasn't finished with them.
That night, Kaito couldn't sleep.
The whispers were louder than ever.
He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his heart pounding.
"Kaito..."
A soft voice, barely more than a breath.
"Kaito..."
It was coming from the window.
Slowly, he sat up.
His room was dark except for the pale moonlight spilling through the curtains.
He crossed the room, every step hesitant, and pulled the curtains aside.
There was nothing there.
Only the garden below, bathed in silver light.
He let out a shaky breath —
And then he saw it.
A figure standing at the edge of the trees, just beyond the fence.
It was tall and thin, cloaked in shifting shadows.
Its face was hidden, but he could feel its gaze, cold and ancient, boring into him.
Kaito stumbled back, heart hammering.
The figure didn't move.
For a long, frozen moment, they simply stared at each other.
Then the figure raised one long, bony finger — and pointed directly at him.
Kaito's breath caught.
The pendant around his neck grew ice-cold, burning against his skin.
The figure's mouth opened in a silent scream — and the world blurred.
Kaito jerked awake, gasping.
He was still in bed.
Morning light streamed through the window.
The garden outside was empty.
Had it been a dream?
He wasn't sure.
But when he touched the pendant, it was freezing cold.
Not a dream.
At school, he found the others already waiting for him by the courtyard.
Their faces were pale and tight.
"You saw it too," Airi said without needing to ask.
Kaito nodded grimly.
"We need help," Riku said.
"Someone who knows more about this stuff than we do."
Daichi crossed his arms.
"And where exactly are we supposed to find a ghost expert?"
Kaito hesitated.
There was someone.
Miss Sato.
She was the school's history teacher — a quiet, serious woman with silver hair and sharp eyes.
Most students thought she was strange.
But Kaito had seen the talismans hidden in her desk, the ancient books she read between classes.
If anyone knew about the mirror, it was her.
"We talk to Miss Sato," he said.
"Today."
The others exchanged uncertain looks but nodded.
It was their only chance.
They waited until after school ended.
When the halls emptied and shadows grew long, they crept to Miss Sato's office.
Kaito knocked.
"Come in," came her voice, calm and distant.
They stepped inside.
The room smelled of old paper and incense.
Books lined every wall, and strange symbols were scrawled on the blackboard.
Miss Sato looked up from her desk.
Her sharp gaze swept over them, and something like recognition flickered in her eyes.
"I was wondering when you'd come," she said, folding her hands neatly on the desk.
"You've seen it, haven't you? The reflection that isn't yours."
Kaito's mouth went dry.
He nodded.
Miss Sato rose and crossed the room to a locked cabinet.
She pulled out a thin, ancient-looking book bound in cracked leather.
"This," she said, placing it on the desk, "is the Codex of Mirrors. It's older than this school. Older than the town itself."
She opened it carefully.
Ink drawings of mirrors filled the pages, each surrounded by strange markings.
One page showed a mirror that looked exactly like the one they had entered.
"This mirror was created centuries ago," Miss Sato explained.
"Not to reflect the world — but to trap what does not belong in it."
"Trap what?" Daichi asked, his voice rough.
"Shadows," she said simply.
"Echoes. Pieces of broken souls. Over time, the mirror became... hungry."
Airi shivered.
"And now that you've touched it, it knows you," Miss Sato said, looking at each of them in turn.
"It will try to bring you back. It will not stop."
Riku swallowed hard.
"How do we stop it?"
Miss Sato closed the book with a soft thud.
"You can't," she said.
"Not alone."
She reached into her desk and pulled out four small charms, each shaped like a tiny mirror.
"Wear these at all times," she instructed, handing one to each of them.
"They will shield you — for a while."
Kaito stared at the charm in his hand.
It was warm, pulsing faintly against his skin.
"But if the mirror calls you again," Miss Sato warned, "you must face what lies within it. Only then can you break its hold."
"And if we fail?" Airi asked softly.
Miss Sato's eyes darkened.
"Then you will become part of it. Forever."
Later that night, as Kaito lay in bed, the charm tucked under his pillow, he tried to stay awake.
But exhaustion pulled at him.
As he drifted into uneasy sleep, he heard it again —
The whisper.
"Kaito... come back..."
And in the darkness behind his eyes, he saw the figure waiting for him — smiling.