After arriving at school, I headed straight to the music room first thing in the morning, but as expected, it was locked and the door was firmly shut. Next, I went to the lost and found window, but it seemed no smartphone had been turned in.

...I guess I'll just consult Madoka or Emiri for now.

Thinking that, I shoved my hand into my pocket, only to retort to myself, "That's why I don't have my smartphone!" I've done this fruitless one-man play about four times this morning alone. I didn't think I was that dependent on my phone, but it seemed deeply ingrained in my subconscious that having it on me was a given.

Reluctantly realizing the convenience of modern technology in this frustrating way, I waited for those two to arrive at school.

...I'm bored.

Out of sheer boredom, I looked around for no particular reason, but there were only girls in sight.

Which is to be expected, since the school I attend, Suzuran Girls' Academy, is a combined junior and senior high girls' school.

My parents, seemingly wanting to raise my naturally cynical self to be at least somewhat feminine, enrolled me here at Suzuran Girl's. However, the environment of a girls' school is far removed from the general public's image. I, too, was surprised upon entering, having initially imagined neat and tidy young ladies exchanging greetings like "Good day to you." If I were to describe the space of a girls' school in a single word, it would be a "zoo," and I think its true nature is closer to what society imagines a "boy's school" to be like. You can probably guess as much from the fact that a Jenga set was left abandoned at the back of the classroom.

...Well, maybe it's just our school, though.

While thinking about such things, I watched the girls screaming and making a ruckus around me for a while, but I got bored of that in a few minutes too. Just as I was starting to think, Maybe I should actually study for the exams... a familiar girl walked into the classroom. Out of the two of them, the first to arrive was Hashida Madoka. Her pigtails, which didn't suit her age at all, bobbed up and down around her shoulders—and yet, because Madoka was fairly tall, her appearance was terribly unbalanced.

But the fact that she fully owned that imbalance was part of her charm.

When Madoka locked eyes with me, she hurried over.

"Miyuki, you ran away from the penalty game and on top of that, you ignored our LINE messages."

Without even a greeting, Madoka stated this, rattling it off rapidly. It wasn't that she was angry; she just normally spoke incredibly fast. Well, maybe today, in particular, she really was mad.

Since her default tone always sounded like she was half-pissed off, it paradoxically made her emotions hard to read—a bothersome trait.

I stared fixedly at Madoka, observing her behavior.

This was to discern whether the woman who appeared in the music room was part of their scheme.

However, I had already gathered this from her first sentence: Madoka didn't seem to be lying or trying to trick me. Madoka likes seeing her friends in a bind, but she is terrible at lying.

In other words, Madoka had nothing to do with the woman from yesterday.

"...Madoka, did you go home with Emiri yesterday?"

"Yeah, but what does that have to do with you ignoring us? Wait, don't tell me you were actually mad about that?"

Madoka replied rapidly, without a moment's hesitation.

As expected, she didn't look like she was lying.

Which meant Emiri was also innocent.

If so, was the woman yesterday just my imagination...?

"I did the penalty game. Because of that, I dropped my smartphone, which is why I couldn't contact you."

"Dropped it? If you drop your smartphone, you normally notice, right?"

"I was running away. So desperately that I forgot all about my phone."

"Running away? From what?"

"...A ghost."

At that answer, Madoka furrowed her brow and stared at me. It seemed she, too, was trying to gauge the truth of my words. However, before she could open her mouth, an interruption came from the side.

"Oh my, did you encounter the ghost of the music room, Miyuki-san?"

The one who appeared was Kanzaki Emiri.

In stark contrast to her polite tone, she sat on the desk in front of me with rough movements and crossed her legs.

The inconsistency between her words and actions was one thing, but Emiri's appearance looked like a cross between a delinquent and a refined lady. I know it doesn't make much sense when I say it, but it was the only way to describe how she looked.

It was an appearance just as unbalanced as Madoka's.

Ambivalence, perhaps? No, that's slightly different.

"A ghost? Emiri, do you actually believe what this idiot is saying?"

"'This idiot'? I am Miyuki, you know. Stop talking about people like they're felons, you jerk."

"If it were anywhere else, I wouldn't believe such nonsense about ghosts from the start either. However,"

From Emiri's phrasing, which could even be considered condescendingly polite, I realized she was in a good mood.

Then she glanced at Madoka, and slowly curling up the corners of her mouth, she looked back at me.

She looked so incredibly amused that, conversely, it made me want to run away from that spot.

"If you say it happened in the music room, then that's a different story entirely."

"E-Emiri... what do you mean by that?"

Could Emiri have some idea about the woman I encountered yesterday?

I didn't want to dig too deeply into it. But leaving it in this unclear state was also the worst. In other words, at this point, I had already fallen perfectly into Emiri's trap.

Emiri stared at me and opened her mouth, speaking as if putting on airs.

"Trapped inside the music room is a female student who committed suicide at this school ten years ago."

"........."

Because Emiri's tone was completely serious, all I could do was gulp.

Or you could just say I was too terrified to speak.

"This student was raised strictly to play the piano since she was a child, and it was said that if she continued on that path, she would become one of Japan's leading pianists. However, an accident forced the amputation of all the fingers on her left hand. Her life was not in danger, but naturally, she could no longer play the piano as she once had. The people around her treated her carefully, but she herself could not forgive it. Since she firmly believed she was born to play the piano, a life where she couldn't play had no meaning to her. Driven to despair, she chose the music room—specifically, right next to the grand piano—as her place to die, and hanged herself there."

Emiri's gaze pierced right through me.

Strangely enough, it strongly evoked the gaze of the woman from last night.

"They say she is still waiting, even now."

Emiri murmured, dropping her tone, and let a moment of silence fall.

"W-Waiting for what...?"

Even though I shouldn't have, I ended up asking for the continuation.

Emiri, who seemed satisfied with my reaction, slowly moved her lips to deliberately keep me in suspense.

"—For a student to appear, bringing her missing fingers to her."

An extended index finger poked the tip of my nose.

"Miyuki-san. You almost had your fingers taken."

I swallowed hard.

Checking my left hand, opening and closing my fist, I found myself grateful for the reality that my fingers were still there.

I mean, well, the ghost story Emiri told wasn't necessarily true, and in all likelihood, I thought it was a lie. But, if so, what was that woman who attacked me yesterday? My thoughts scattered in all directions.

"Your fingers are safe, but your smartphone got taken, huh, Miyuki."

I was slightly saved by Madoka's rapid-fire, tone-deaf interjection.

It's debatable whether losing just my phone was a heavy price to pay or a cheap one.

"Oh my, my condolences for that."

Seemingly satisfied after finishing her ghost story, Emiri hopped off the desk, slung her school bag over her shoulder with a rough motion, and started heading toward her own seat. I hurriedly called out to her.

"H-Hey, Emiri. I'm going back to the music room later, but—"

"Yes. Miyuki-san, please do your best."

She beat me to the punch before I could ask her to come with me.

Emiri had a smile on her face that even felt elegant, but I had no idea what she was thinking.

—More importantly, what exactly was this girl telling me to do my best at?

Thinking that, I shot her a resentful glare, but she just walked away without a care in the world.