Red Maple High School — one of the most prestigious schools in the capital. A place where excellence gleamed like a polished mirror, reflecting discipline, intelligence, and ambition. With over one thousand three hundred seventy-five students, it stood like a proud fortress of knowledge, bearing an A accreditation that few could rival.
Yet, beyond its flawless reputation, what truly captured attention was the uniform. A white shirt under a mocca vest, wrapped neatly beneath a maroon blazer. For the girls, pleated checkered skirts that swayed softly with each step; for the boys, long trousers in matching tones. The final touch — a bolo tie for the boys, and a delicate ribbon tie for the girls. Simple, yet strangely elegant — as if the design itself carried an unspoken history, stitched into its fabric.
Classes began at eight in the morning and ended at three in the afternoon. After that, the school transformed. The chatter of classrooms gave way to the clatter of club activities — Journalism, Archery, Theatre, and many others — each filling the air with its own rhythm.
By five, silence reclaimed the hallways. The lights dimmed, and the gates closed. No one was supposed to stay.
But Leci often did.
Since there were no club activities today, she would usually spend her time hunting spirits — lost echoes that lingered where they shouldn't. Before that, however, she had to check the ghost story reports sent to the Journalism Club. Each report was a whisper from the unseen — a clue leading her to where the restless ones roamed.
Sure, she could search for them on her own. But that would take too much time… and too much luck.
So instead, she relied on the stories — those strange, trembling words sent by anonymous hands. Every day, the Journalism Club's inbox overflowed with tales: haunted staircases, crying mirrors, shadows in the music room. The club would later post them on the school's social media page, along with regular news.
And because of that, Red Maple High School's account became unexpectedly famous — followed by students, alumni, and even strangers from outside the city.
But Leci wasn't interested in fame. She only wanted to see the original messages — the unedited ones. The ones that felt real.
Unfortunately, all of those emails were managed by the club's secretary, who always checked them on the computer in the clubroom. That's why Leci often waited until the room was empty… and only then would she quietly slip inside.
But not today.
Today was different.
She didn't even know how it happened — how she ended up locked inside the clubroom with someone who claimed to be a Biology Teacher. There was something unsettling about him — not his words, but his tone. Too calm. Too deliberate.
Every step he took toward her sounded heavier than it should. And when he finally cornered her against the door, his eyes… they didn't look like a teacher's eyes at all.
Something was wrong.
Terribly wrong.
"There's only the two of us here. Don't you think I could do something right now?"
For a moment, Leci froze. She knew she shouldn't be thinking about that right now—but from this close, she could clearly see Kieron's lips. Soft. Pale pink. Too pink, even.
She blinked several times, trying to look away. Are men even allowed to have lips that pink? She thought, her heartbeat slightly uneven.
Because Leci kept averting her gaze, Kieron leaned closer, as if trying to pull her attention back to him. He gently tilted her chin with one hand, guiding her face to meet his eyes.
"Even when I'm this close, you still look somewhere else," he murmured, his voice low and smooth. "Am I really that uninteresting to you?"
Now Leci's mind was racing. What should she say? She couldn't possibly answer with "Because you're not human," or "Because you're not handsome enough." He'd never accept an answer like that.
So instead, she whispered, "Because… I know you're only joking, right?" It came out more like a question than a statement.
It was true. No matter how charming or how teasingly gentle Kieron could be, Leci always knew he was only playing around. He did these things to keep their 'agreement' intact — nothing more.
And Leci… she never expected anything beyond that. She was used to keeping her heart steady, to never expect too much from anyone. Sooner or later, Kieron would forget, and this strange closeness would fade again.
Kieron said nothing. For the first time, he looked genuinely taken aback — silent for a little too long. That silence gave Leci enough time to slip away. She ducked under his arm, stepping out from his shadow, and quietly walked past him.
Not wanting to waste any more time, Leci turned on the computer in the clubroom and sat in front of the screen. Her expression shifted as she scrolled through the hundreds of emails filled with ghost stories — some absurd, some terrifying, and some strangely sorrowful.
Among them was one she recognized — a follow-up to yesterday's story about the spirit of a little child. The sender wrote again, saying the ghost hadn't appeared since Leci's last visit. Their younger sibling could now play outside without fear.
Just reading that made Leci smile faintly. Her hard work, in some small way, felt appreciated.
"So this is how you track down those Lost Spirits," Kieron's voice murmured from behind her.
Leci didn't even flinch. "Sending ghost stories through email and posting them on the school's social media has been a tradition since the Journalism Club was founded," she replied, eyes still on the screen, skimming through each story.
Leci glanced upward when she suddenly felt something brush against her hair. It was Kieron — resting his chin lightly atop her head. His hands had somehow found their way back to her shoulders.
For someone who enjoyed cornering people against walls, Kieron also seemed to have a habit of touching shoulders — as if the act itself helped him claim space without a word. Since he didn't seem to mean any harm, Leci decided to ignore him this time.
They continued reading the ghost stories together in silence. Then, faintly, the sound of footsteps echoed outside — stopping right in front of the clubroom door.
Before Leci could react, a strong hand pulled her down. The next thing she knew, she was under the computer desk — and once again, far too close to Kieron. Their eyes met for the briefest second. Leci's knees brushed against his chest, and Kieron's legs pressed Leci's body.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Her heartbeat was loud enough that she feared he could hear it.
Leci wasn't sure what made her heart race — fear of being found out, or the distance that had completely vanished between them. Her thoughts scattered like leaves in a storm.
Klek!
The door burst open and then clicked shut again, locked from the inside. From her hiding spot, Leci could see two pairs of feet — one belonging to a girl, the other to a boy. Before she could peek further, she heard it — the unmistakable rhythm of hushed whispers and hurried movements.
Leci froze. Her heart pounded harder, the sound filling her ears.
She wasn't naïve. She understood what those sounds meant, and the realization made her entire face heat up
Then, without warning, Kieron reached out — his hands gently holding her arms, as if asking her to stay still. He seemed far more amused by her reaction than by whatever was happening above them.
The space beneath the desk was narrow, forcing them close enough for Leci to catch a trace of his scent — something faint, calm, but intoxicating in its quiet way.
Her face burned hotter, and her breath grew shallow. Outside, the sounds in the room grew louder, but Kieron's voice broke through them — soft, teasing, almost a whisper against the air between them.
"Are you… getting carried away by the atmosphere?" he murmured. "Your face is quite red right now."
His eyes gleamed faintly in the dim light, and the small, knowing smile on his lips made it impossible for Leci to tell whether he was mocking her — or something else entirely.
Instinctively, Leci covered her face with both hands. "Please, be quiet, Sir. Someone might hear us. What if they find out? And… is the computer still on?"
"Don't worry about that," Kieron replied with a quiet chuckle. "Turning off something electronic is child's play." His voice carried amusement as he leaned closer, as if drawn by the closeness itself. "I like this," he murmured, tone deceptively calm. "It's quiet. I wish it could stay this way for a little longer."
Leci disagreed entirely. There was nothing safe about this moment—at least not for her heart. Even though she had once caught Kieron alone with another girl before, somehow this… felt much more nerve-wracking.
Then her body stiffened. The sounds coming from outside grew stranger, closer. From beneath the desk, Leci could see two discarded maroon blazers lying on the floor — the school uniform. They must have belonged to two students.
Of all places, why here? she groaned inwardly. Just because there are no cameras in the clubroom doesn't mean you can do this here!
Her mind spun in panic. What mattered now was keeping herself and Kieron hidden — not caught in someone else's mistake. She felt trapped between fear and the awkwardness of being pressed into such proximity with him.
Before things outside grew any more… complicated, Leci knew she had to act. Her eyes darted around, searching for anything she could use to make a noise — anything to distract them. When she spotted a box of posters nearby, she reached out, planning to nudge it just enough to startle the culprits.
But before her hand could move, a warm grip caught it — Kieron's. He intertwined his fingers with hers, his gaze calm, as if nothing around them was out of place.
When she looked at him in disbelief, he gave her a faint, teasing smile. "Let's wait just a little longer," he whispered.
Leci froze again. Then, with quiet boldness, Kieron ran his fingertips along her neck, then lifted the collar of Leci's white shirt slightly. His eyes flickered toward a faint red mark on her skin — something he had caused the day before — and the corner of his mouth curved upward, almost imperceptibly.
"Are you sure," he whispered softly, voice lower now, "you're not even a little curious… about what they're doing?"
Leci's breath caught in her throat. If this kept going, she knew exactly who would end up losing control first.