Kenji pedaled hard, wind slicing past his ears. He hated being late, but the grocery errand had slowed him down—by now, it was almost five. Everyone was supposed to meet at his place at four. He told himself they wouldn’t care, but his stomach still twisted.

Like always, he pulled out his compass. Cutting through the woods to get home wasn’t something he did without it. He didn’t want to end up as a face on a missing poster.

When Old Man Saburō’s house came into view, Kenji checked out of habit. No old man on the porch today. He mounted the compass onto his handlebars—he’d rigged a holder himself to save the trouble of fishing it out every few minutes—and leaned into the familiar path. North, always north.

Fifteen minutes later, unease crept in. His house should’ve appeared by now. Instead, he found himself staring at a burned-down building he’d never seen before. He braked, sweat dripping down his neck, and checked his compass. The needle jittered like it had a stutter.

A small stone was stuck under the arrow. Maybe that was the issue. He popped it free, shook the compass, and looked again.

The arrow spun. Not gently—wild, frantic, like it was trying to claw its way out.

Kenji froze, compass trembling in his hand. He wondered if he’d broken it… or if it was warning him.

Panic clawed at Kenji’s chest. The sun dipped lower, shadows bleeding into the trees. He wasn’t home. He’d never been this deep before. His old fear of vanishing into the woods pressed down heavy, now frighteningly real.

He cursed himself for leaving his phone behind. No map. No lifeline. Always-composed Kenji now paced in circles, sweat dripping, mind racing. Should he push forward? Try to find his way back? Every instinct told him moving blindly would only bury him deeper. Better to stay put. His friends would notice his delay. They’d call. They’d come.

“Kenji!”

The voice snapped through the trees. Familiar.

“Old man! I’m here!” Kenji yelled.

Old Man Saburō burst out of the brush, cane in hand, face ghostly pale and dripping sweat.

“What the hell is wrong with you!” He smacked Kenji’s arm with his cane, anger cracking through his voice.

Kenji spilled everything in a rush—how he’d followed his compass, how it spun out of control, how he wound up here by a strange burned-out building. He asked if the old man knew about it.

Saburō shook his head sharply. “Never come back here. Ever.”

Kenji blinked, stunned. “But—”

“I saw you.” The old man’s voice trembled with fury. “You were riding like a madman. Face blank. I shouted your name. You didn’t even flinch.”

Kenji stared, skin crawling. He remembered riding steady, compass in hand. But Saburō swore he’d seen a hollow-eyed stranger speeding through the forest.

“Your face looked like you were ready to welcome death,” Old Man Saburō said flatly, his eyes never leaving Kenji.

“I swear, I didn’t see you there. And I’m sorry about the speed—I was just trying to get home,” Kenji replied, chest still heaving.

“It’s not safe for you to be out here alone,” the old man muttered.

Kenji frowned. “But… how did you know where to find me?”

Saburō’s answer came too quickly. “Instinct. That’s all.” He gestured with his cane toward the path. “Follow the road. Straight ahead. It’ll take you home. Don’t trust that compass of yours for now.”

Kenji nodded, bowed politely, and pedaled away. His muscles ached with relief when his house finally came into view.

His friends were lounging on the porch, laughing like nothing in the world could touch them.

“It’s seven o’clock now. What happened to four?” Risa asked, hands planted on her hips like a scolding parent.

“Sorry… I got lost,” Kenji admitted.

“You? Lost?” Karu burst out laughing.

The others joined in, howling at the idea. Kenji forced a smile, trying to match their energy. But his chest stayed tight, the old man’s words still crawling at the back of his mind. It’s just a compass defect, he told himself. Nothing more.

No one had planned for a sleepover.

But Kenji insisted. He didn’t want anyone heading home alone through the woods after what happened. His mom even called Risa’s parents, saying they were rushing to finish a group project. Her parents bought the excuse without hesitation—just told Risa to pick up groceries tomorrow, and promised to wire her money.

“So… what’s going on with Haruto?” Reiji asked, dropping onto Kenji’s bed like he owned it.

“Hey, hey. Risa gets the bed. The rest of us are on the floor,” Kenji reminded him.

“We know,” Karu groaned, rolling his eyes.

“He’s been acting weird lately. Like there’s something he hasn’t told us,” Santo said, tugging off his socks. He sniffed. “Smells like bad memories.”

Kenji glanced at Risa. His tone was calm, but the weight behind it made her freeze.

“Risa, you were the last one with Haru. What happened?”

Risa stopped rifling through Kenji’s closet. Her hands lingered on a folded T-shirt, but she didn’t move.

“Nothing,” she answered quickly. She held up a white shirt and a pair of black shorts. “Is this clean? Can I wear it?”

“Yes, that’s clean.” Kenji sat on the bed, watching her closely. “I know when Haru’s mad at us, or when he’s sulking about something. But this… I don’t know. He seemed disturbed. Like he saw something he wasn’t supposed to. There weren’t any grandma stories, right?”

Risa froze, the shirt still in her hands. The silence made her skin prickle.

“I know when you’re lying, Risa,” Kenji pressed, his voice low but firm. “What really happened?”

“There was no sad story,” Risa said finally, her words clipped. “Haru dropped his pen, and when I looked at him… his eyes were white. He wasn’t speaking, wasn’t responding to me at all.”

Kenji’s breath caught. “His eyes were white? That’s why you were crying?”

“Yes. And I’m tired. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Kenji let it drop. He knew that tone—push any further, and she’d shut down completely.

Risa slipped away to change her clothes. Kenji sat there a moment longer, the unease gnawing at him. Something was missing from her story. He could feel it.

They went downstairs for dinner. Kenji threw their uniforms into the wash, knowing they’d need them again tomorrow.

The room was quiet—not the calm kind, but heavy, stretched tight with everything left unsaid.

By morning, they acted like everything was normal. Or at least, they tried to.

》》》》》》》》》》》》》

“Hey, Santo. Lend me your protractor,” Haruto asked in math class.

“I left it at home,” Santo said flatly.

Haruto blinked. “Out of all the things to forget… a protractor? Really?” He turned toward Reiji. “What about you? I know you hate carrying school stuff, but not even you’d ditch a protractor.”

Reiji scratched his head, looking guilty. “Heh… yeah, also left it at home. We, uh, kinda crashed at Kenji’s last night and—”

Kenji cut him off with a loud fake cough.

Haruto’s eyes narrowed. “Hold on. You stayed at Kenji’s? All of you?”

“It was… last-minute,” Risa said. Her voice wavered.

“And no one thought to invite me?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Karu blurted. “We literally just talked. Nothing fun. Risa almost blew up, Kenji was stuck doing laundry after dinner, and then we all just passed out.”

“Still,” Haruto said, his tone sharp, “You left me out. Why?”

Kenji’s patience cracked. “Haru, you’ve been acting off. We know something happened in the basement. Risa already told us. You lied about the grandma story. Your eyes went white. You weren’t answering her.”

Haruto froze. Then his expression hardened. “So you talk about me when I’m not around? What else do you say behind my back?”

No one said anything. They just stared at Haruto. This had never happened before. Whenever they hung out—sleepovers, weekends, whatever—they were always complete. Sometimes in Kenji’s roomy basement, sometimes crammed into Karu’s tiny bedroom, but always together.

“I’ll get going. See you after school,” Haruto muttered, shoving his stuff into his bag.

They sat there watching him leave. Kenji shot Reiji a sharp look, and Reiji instantly mumbled an apology. He hadn’t meant for it to come out that way.

Later that day, Haruto was nowhere to be found. He didn’t show up for homeroom, and though there weren’t any proper classes—just project work—his absence left everyone feeling uneasy. Probably holed up in the library, they guessed.

Risa wanted to check on him, to make sure his eyes didn’t roll white again, but she stayed put. Break passed. Still no Haruto. Nobody even brought up the cafeteria. The silence was heavy, like everyone was afraid if they spoke, it’d turn into a fight.

By lunch, Risa’s stomach growled so loud she wanted to sink under the table. She opened her mouth to say something—then froze.

“What? You’re really gonna sit here like you’re geniuses who don’t need food? Even I, the smartest one, have to eat,” Haruto’s voice came from behind them.

Risa let out a breath and smiled without meaning to.

They grabbed trays and headed to the cafeteria, then carried their food up to the rooftop. 

“I waited for you at the library during break,” Haruto said, pushing a straw into Risa’s milk carton like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Sat facing the doors so I’d see you if you came looking. Sorry—I overreacted.”

Kenji burst out laughing.

“You? Sitting around waiting for us? What are you, my girlfriend?”

“Hey!” Haruto snapped, his ears turning red.

Kenji grinned. “Relax, I’m kidding. Honestly, I almost went. But I thought maybe you needed space—time to cool off, think things through.”

For a second, the two just stared at each other. Then Haruto cracked a smile. Kenji followed, and soon the whole group was laughing with them.

When it died down, Haruto’s voice cut through the air. “Do you really want to know what happened? I saw something.”

Risa’s chest tightened. She wanted to stop him. And yet—she needed to hear it. Needed to know if it matched what she feared.