Hearing the persistent knocking, Akira cautiously approached the door. His mother's old words about ghosts surfaced in his mind:
They never appeared when the sun shone brightly, almost as if the light repelled them.
But on cloudy days, when the sky was overcast and shadows deepened, spirits could sometimes appear even in daylight.
He glanced at his phone—9:00 a.m.—but the sky outside was dark, thick with clouds, and thunder rumbled, adding an ominous layer to the knocking.
'What if it's the ghost from yesterday?' Akira thought, a shiver running through him.
"Is anyone home?" a voice called from beyond the door.
"We're from the investigation team. We just need to ask a few questions."
Akira exhaled, feeling a bit more grounded. 'It's a human voice, not a ghost.'
Promising himself he'd install a video intercom soon, he contemplated moving to another apartment with better technology and security.
But for now, he steeled himself and opened the door.
Two men stood in front of him, dressed in plain white shirts and black trousers, each flashing a badge identifying them as police officers.
"We'd like to ask a few questions about the incident at Sakuragaoka Academy," the first man introduced himself as Officer Watanabe.
"And if possible, we'd like to speak with your parents as well," the second man, Officer Nakamura, added.
"I don't have any parents," Akira replied quietly, stepping aside and motioning them into his apartment.
Once they were settled in the living room, Watanabe asked, "Is there a guardian or relative we could speak with?"
"No, my guardians live far away."
Akira answered as he moved to the kitchen, hastily preparing green tea and arranging a tray of snacks to serve them.
He returned, placing the tray on the table between them.
"So, you live here alone?" Nakamura asked, taking a sip of tea.
Akira nodded. "Yes, it's just me. The apartment is a bit large, but I needed space for all my stuff."
The officers exchanged a look, likely noting his unease. Akira's nerves were on edge, aware that they could read subtle cues, each movement and expression potentially giving something away.
Watanabe broke the silence with a relaxed smile. "There's no need to be tense. We're just here to understand what happened, especially since you're the only surviving member of the Supernatural Club."
Akira forced a small nod, swallowing hard. "Right. I'll answer what I can."
But inside, he worried about how to explain why he'd fled the abandoned school. 'How do I tell them I dreamed they'd unleash a ghost that killed them all?'
"So, you were at the scene with them yesterday?" Watanabe asked, pulling a notepad from his pocket.
"What were they doing?"
"Yeah… but I left early," Akira replied, fidgeting slightly.
"They were talking about a cursed wooden box. Ishinoya and I found it in a hole behind one of the toilets in the old building."
The officers exchanged a glance, Watanabe jotting down his response.
"Do you know what was in the box? We couldn't find it in the club room."
Akira paused, his mind racing.
'If I tell them I saw it open and felt the presence of something… they'll think I'm insane.'
'And where the hell did that box go? It needs to be burned!'
"No," he said, forcing calm into his voice. "I left before they got it open."
The detectives watched him closely, sharing another glance. "Do you remember where you found it?" Nakamura pressed.
"Third floor, third toilet stall," Akira answered, hoping they'd move on from the cursed box.
"Alright," Watanabe said, closing his notepad. "Let's continue."
Watanabe pulled a photo from his bag and placed it on the table in front of Akira.
The image showed him sprinting away from the abandoned school building, his face panicked, his form blurred by motion.
Another still captured him rushing into his apartment complex, the urgency clear.
"This footage is from the CCTV at the school gate and your apartment," Watanabe explained, his tone probing but calm.
"Can you explain why you were in such a hurry?"
Akira stared at the photos, trying to remain composed. 'Think,' he told himself, 'give them something they can understand.'
He was usually a smooth talker, but detectives were another level.
"It's... it's the thunderstorm," he finally answered, voice low but steady. "I... I have some trauma around storms."
His gaze dropped, his shoulders slumping slightly.
"My mother... she is missing during a storm, and my father... he also passed during heavy rain. So... yeah."
"When thunderstorms come, I feel the need to hide in my room."
He let out a heavy sigh, layering his voice with a hint of sorrow, letting his eyes droop as he forced an expression of sadness.
Nakamura's voice softened. "We're sorry to hear that."
But then, he added, "We just found it odd, given that this footage was captured right after your senior's time of death."
Akira's fingers clenched slightly, and he looked down, letting his hands tremble just enough to seem authentic.
"I... I feel guilty about it. Maybe if I had stayed longer... I could have done something..."
"Officer, I really don't know anything regarding their death…"
His voice cracked, his eyes glistening, all part of his act. Beneath the surface, though, his emotions churned, a storm of resentment and helplessness.
If only they'd listened to him, if only he'd could do anything to help them, maybe they'd all still be alive.
The detectives asked a few more questions, skimming over the details, before finally thanking him and making their way out.
As their footsteps faded, Akira sank onto the sofa, his hand covering his eyes.
'What's going to happen to me?' The thought gnawed at him.
'Will they suspect me because I'm the only survivor? And now... am I cursed to see ghosts for the rest of my life?'
He sighed, frustration and fear swirling within him.
"Damn, the world really must hate me!" he yelled, running a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands in frustration.
But as he looked down, something strange caught his eye.
His arm—his skin—was becoming translucent, as if he were turning into a ghost himself.
He could see faint outlines of the couch through his flesh, a faint, eerie glow radiating from his limbs.
"What... what the hell is happening now?!"