3.
The school courtyard lay cold under the starlight.
Haru cradled Kana's body, pushing through the overgrown bushes toward the backyard. In her arms, Kana was still, her skin icy. Her blood-and-ink-stained sailor uniform glistened faintly in the starlight.
The grass tangled around Haru's shoes, whispering as if to hold her back. Gritting her teeth, she pressed on toward the old well at the courtyard's center—a place steeped in the literature club's legends. It was said that past members offered stories to the well, their wishes granted in return.
At the well's edge, Haru gently lowered Kana to the ground. Kana's face was frozen in death's stillness, her indigo eyes closed.
With trembling hands, Haru began unbuttoning Kana's uniform. Each undone button brought her fingers to Kana's cold skin, a sharp ache tightening her chest. The fabric peeled away, revealing Kana's pale body—her delicate shoulders, the hollow of her collarbone, the soft curve of her abdomen. Her form was almost sculptural, its beauty sharpened by the chill of death.
"Kana, I'm sorry… This is the only way to bring you back."
Haru whispered, pulling a small knife from her pocket. The blade caught the starlight, glinting sharply. She pressed it lightly to Kana's arm, slicing the skin. A trickle of red blood flowed, then stopped. From the wound, an inky black liquid oozed.
Haru gasped, setting the knife aside and grabbing a pen. Clutching the fragments of Kana's story, she began to write a new tale directly onto Kana's body.
Each touch of the pen drew black ink into Kana's skin. Haru traced the story of the forgotten literature club girl across Kana's arm. The words curved, slithering over her flesh, pulsing in time with her veins as if alive. Haru's breath grew heavy, her fingers warming as they grazed Kana's skin. She wrote across Kana's chest, her collarbone, her thighs, the words enveloping her like a garment of black ink.
A sound came from behind—footsteps.
Haru turned to see Hinata, another club member, standing there. Her short blonde hair shimmered in the starlight, her sharp green eyes cutting through the dark. Her uniform was disheveled, the open collar revealing a sweat-dampened neck. She held an old issue of the club magazine, frowning at the sight of Haru and Kana.
"Haru, what are you doing? What's wrong with Kana?"
Hinata stepped closer, her eyes widening at the words etched into Kana's bare skin. The text melded into her flesh like a tattoo, glowing eerily in the starlight.
Haru, still gripping the pen, looked up. "Hinata, help me. To bring Kana back, we have to offer her a story. This well… it can save her."
Hinata hesitated, then tossed the magazine to the ground and knelt beside Haru. She gazed at Kana's face, brushing her cheek. The cold skin brought tears to Hinata's eyes. Taking the pen from Haru, she began to write on Kana's body.
Hinata's words were bolder, wilder than Haru's. She scrawled passionate poetry across Kana's abdomen, her back, her neck. The ink sank into her skin, spreading like veins.
Kana's body trembled—a faint but undeniable movement.
Haru and Hinata held their breath, watching. Kana's fingers twitched, clutching at the dirt. Her chest rose and fell, and her eyes opened. Her indigo gaze reflected the starry sky, gleaming as if she'd returned from another realm. But the words on her skin remained, the black ink writhing like a living thing.
"Haru… Hinata?" Her voice was frail, rasping.
Kana looked down at her body, touching the text covering her skin. As her fingers traced the words, the ink grew hot, her body quivering with a mix of pain and ecstasy.
Her breathing quickened, and she gripped Haru and Hinata's hands. "I'm back… but what is this? What's on my body?"
Haru embraced her, gently stroking the words on her back. Hinata combed her fingers through Kana's hair, whispering, "It's our story, Kana. We wrote it to bring you back. We're not letting you go."
From the well's depths came a faint sound, like ripples on water, a low growl. The words on Kana's skin flared, the ink moving faster, slithering across her flesh.
Kana's face twisted in pain, yet her eyes glistened with an uncanny rapture. Her body was becoming the story itself. With every movement, the words wove new sentences, adorning her skin.
Haru and Hinata supported her, sitting her on the well's edge. Under the starry sky, Kana's ink-covered body glowed like a night goddess.
Her breaths grew heated, her hands clutching their arms tightly. Her eyes, deep and consuming, flickered with fear and desire. "I can feel it. This story is devouring me. But… I want it."
Her words hung between them. Haru and Hinata exchanged a glance. Their hands traced the words on Kana's body, the ink clinging to their fingers, binding the three together.
The well's growl intensified, the ground trembling. The story etched into Kana had revived her, but it was also birthing a new curse.
The stars wavered as black mist rose from the well, curling around Kana's body, deepening and sharpening the words on her skin.
She gasped, arching her back, consumed by the story.
Haru and Hinata held her tightly, fighting the torrent of the narrative. But they, too, were captivated by the words on Kana's skin, unable to stop their hands from reaching for the pen.