Chapter Six: The Boy in the Hallway The bell rang, and students poured into the hallway like a rushing tide—laughing, yelling, lockers slamming. Arisol walked calmly in the middle of it all, clutching her notebook to her chest, trying to remember the last line of a poem that had visited her in a dream. She was about to turn the corner near Room 3B when she stopped. Her breath caught like it hit a wall. There, walking casually down the hallway like he belonged, was Yuki. Older. Taller. His once-soft hair now swept back with sharp edges. His skin no longer pale with illness. He wore the school uniform like it was designed for him, hands in his pockets, eyes cold and distant—like ice. And he walked right past her. No hesitation. No pause. Not even a glance. Arisol’s feet felt glued to the floor. Her throat tightened. “Wait—” she whispered, but her voice was drowned out by the noise. She turned, heart pounding. Did I imagine that? No... no, it was him. Mina appeared beside her, pulling her toward the cafeteria. “You okay? You look like you saw a ghost.” Arisol opened her mouth, then closed it again. “I… think I did.” During lunch, her eyes kept scanning the crowd. She couldn’t focus on the conversation. Mina noticed. “Okay, spill,” she said, poking her with a fork. “Who’s got you looking like you’ve seen the future?” Arisol hesitated. “There’s a new student… he looked like someone I used to know. But it can’t be him.” Ren leaned in. “Ooooh, a mysterious look-alike? This sounds juicy. What’s the guy’s name?” Before Arisol could answer, Haru spoke for the first time that day. “It is him.” They all turned. Haru pushed up his glasses, eyes fixed on Arisol. “His name’s Yuki Arai. He transferred from a private hospital school. I heard some teachers talking about it.” Arisol’s heart dropped. It was real. He was real. But why didn’t he say anything?
