[Jow Ylliard Hayle]
Wednesdays drag like time itself is stuck in glue.
Exams are just around the corner, and yet here I am—doing anything but reviewing.
Our teachers had to attend an emergency meeting, which left us with a vacant period. Naturally, I ended up here on the rooftop, letting the harsh midday sun scrape against my skin like sandpaper.
I had nearly forgotten about that ghost girl.
I haven’t seen her since.
> Would it be okay if I never do again?<
I lay on a bench, staring up at the corrugated ceiling. My eyes fluttered shut—only to open again a few moments later.
Across the rooftop, in the sunlit clearing, the door creaked open.
The sharp rhythm of high heels on concrete followed. A girl, I guessed. I didn’t bother sitting up.
I was right.
She stepped out into the sunlight, calm and unfazed by the heat, and leaned on the railing, gazing down at the campus.
> What’s she doing up here?<
It was our classmate.
Her long hair caught the wind, its scent drifting all the way to where I lay. A clean, floral kind of fragrance. Calming, almost too perfect.
> What shampoo does she use? I use Head & Shoulders but my dandruff still shows up sometimes.<
I turned away, trying to shut my eyes again—only to sense her coming closer.
“Hello… classmate,” she greeted softly.
I cracked one eye open.
She was sitting on the bench beside mine, her knees tucked together, a gentle smile stretched across her lips.
She didn’t speak again. Just smiled.
> Don’t tell me… she ran out of things to say? Is she that dense?<
I sighed, sitting up and yawning. I rubbed my eyes and finally spoke.
“This place kinda helps you breathe, doesn’t it? Like it takes weight off your chest.”
Still, she said nothing. Just smiled. Just stared.
“Hey. Why aren’t you saying anything?”
She blinked, startled, then flinched. Her expression was a mix of flustered and confused, like her brain had just caught up with reality.
“Sorry,” she murmured, turning away. “I nearly drowned in my own world.”
> Okay, she’s definitely weird.<
Her eyes remained on the campus below.
“I haven’t stepped foot here in months,” she continued. “I wasn’t supposed to come back yet, but I missed it so much. I begged my parents to let me return.”
Her voice was soft. Faintly sad.
“How are you now?” I asked. “Having trouble adjusting?”
“I’m doing okay,” she replied with a smile, standing up and walking toward me.
She held out her hand.
> A handshake? Why?<
“Nice to meet you, Eyeden Ylliard Hayle.”
The way she said my name—it floated, lifted into the air like a spell. My head grew light. I smiled before I even knew I was smiling.
I took her hand. “Nice to meet you too, Lean May Ronica Adolfo.”
We shook hands—for an oddly long time. Two minutes, maybe more. I started sweating. But she didn’t let go. She was staring—right at my chest.
I followed her gaze.
> What… is she looking at?<
She caught me staring back and finally pulled her hand away, cheeks flaring red.
“Sorry...” she whispered and turned away.
I looked down at my palm, now slick with sweat. I wiped it on my slacks.
(Look at it...)
A voice echoed in my head.
My heart slammed against my ribs. A pulse of electricity snapped across the back of my skull. Then, a sharp sting at the center of my forehead.
“Agh—!” I clutched my head with both hands, the pain drilling through my skull like knives and hammers all at once.
I squeezed my eyes shut. The world shifted. My ability surged without warning.
A glowing thread shimmered into view—on my left pinky.
> Wait—what? Left pinky?<
My vision blurred. Everything distorted. Lean May’s figure moved toward me, but I couldn’t see her face clearly. I couldn’t even hear her voice.
And then—a memory.
A man. Old. Weathered. Sitting by a river, strumming a guitar and singing softly to the wind.
He stopped playing and turned his gaze toward me.
Then he smiled and walked closer.
“You are one of the million who will struggle to find happiness in love,” he announced.
I blinked. I was the one he was talking to.
My hands were small—child-sized.
Two vibrant red threads of fate glowed on both my pinkies, pulsing with an overwhelming energy. Too bright. Blinding.
Before I could look back at the old man, the vision snapped, and I found myself lying face-down on the rooftop floor.
My cheek was wet.
Tears—hot and salty—dripped freely from my eyes.
I pushed myself up slowly, my limbs trembling. I pulled a face towel from my pocket and wiped my face clean.
> How long was I unconscious?<
My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I clenched them tightly to try and calm the tremors.
My chest throbbed, shallow breaths breaking out of me as I struggled to breathe steadily.
> Damn it! Why does this ability keep activating on its own?!<
I slammed both fists onto the ground.
> Damn it… damn it… damn it all! I'm scared...<
I pulled my knees up and hugged them, pressing my face against them as sobs swelled inside me. My breathing was uneven, my lips trembling as tears kept falling.
I didn't want to make a sound—but the pain wouldn’t stay quiet.
“Why are you crying?” A voice broke the silence.
I jerked my head up.
Nova.
She was sitting on one of the benches, calm and composed. Lean May was resting on her lap—unconscious, like I had been.
I quickly wiped at my tears, but they kept coming. I couldn’t stop them.
> What the hell is she doing here?! Of all people—Nova?! Damn it! Why didn’t I check first if anyone else was still here?! She saw me—she saw everything! My blood tears… my breakdown…<
“Your burden must be that heavy…” she said gently. “Do you want me to call Clay? Maybe she can comfort you.”
I glared at her, my teeth clenched. “Shut up!”
I slapped my cheeks hard, as if that could silence my emotions. “Don’t intrude on people’s private moments.”
Nova didn’t even flinch.
“I won’t stop until you’re done crying,” she said flatly, tossing a roll of tissue toward me. “Use it. Your snot’s…”
“Damn it!!” I caught the tissue and ripped off a sheet, blowing my nose furiously.
“Let’s talk,” Nova said, her tone turning serious. “About our curses… Eyeden.”
> Stop calling me that…<
To be continued.