They didn't stop running until the air turned cold — not the ghostly kind of cold, but the real kind. Earthy. Damp. Underground.
Teiichi's lungs burned. Yuuko, of course, wasn't out of breath — ghosts don't get winded — but she looked shaken. Not afraid. Just… aware. The kind of awareness that comes from remembering something you've tried to forget.
They were in the dusty storage wing under the main building — a half-submerged maze where janitors discarded busted desks, outdated textbooks, and unwanted memories nobody wished to keep in the books. Even the echoes were reluctant to occur here.
Teiichi leaned on the wall, gasping for breath.
"What was that thing?" he questioned.
Yuuko did not respond immediately. She gazed into the darkness in front of her — where the walls became gaping shadows.
"It's not a ghost," she said at last. "It's an echo."
"An echo?" he asked.
She nodded slowly. "The school… it remembers. Every scream. Every silence. Every goodbye that was never said the right way. And when there's too much… it begins to rot."
He furrowed his brow. "Rot?"
It festers. Turns into shape. Form. Something that is not someone, but wishes it were." She looked at him, eyes shining. "The mirror did not reveal it. Kept it. Until now."
Teiichi swallowed, hard.
"And now it's coming for me?"
"No," Yuuko replied. "It's coming for your memory of me."
A shiver worked its way down his spine like a spider on skin.
"I don't get it.
Yuuko moved closer, her presence gentler than before, like moonlight through a worn curtain. "You brought me back because you remembered me. But you didn't just remember the good. You remembered fear. Pain. Guilt."
He blinked. "You think that thing is. my fault?"
"No," she said softly. "But it lived on your memory. Your emotions. Just as it lived on mine before."
Teiichi gazed at her. "So… what if it gets me?"
Yuuko didn't respond.
Rather, she gazed at the corner of the room — a rusted locker with the door clinging for dear life. Her face contorted into something near horror.
"That wasn't here before."
The locker creaked.
Teiichi drew back involuntarily. The air had again gone wrong. Too silent.
Then the locker opened — and out of the gap, something tumbled.
A school shoe.
Small. Shiny. Ancient.
And next to it, a name tag.
Kanade Shinozaki – Class 2-B
Yuuko's hand went to her mouth.
"I recognize that name," she breathed.
Teiichi grasped the tag. "Who was she?"
Yuuko's voice shook — for the very first time. "She was like me. Another girl who vanished. But… she was missing after I was missing."
His guts fell out.
"You think she..."
"She was involved in it," Yuuko said. "Or perhaps she was the beginning.
The locker groaned again.
Then the light above flickered — not once, but in a rhythm. Two pulses. Pause. One.
Teiichi didn't know why, but his heart sank.
"What does that mean?" he whispered.
Yuuko backed up. "It means we're not alone down here anymore."
And just as she said it — a voice, low and ragged, whispered behind them.
"You remember me too, don't you…?"