Chapter 1

My body shivered uncontrollably as I awoke with a start. My blurred vision cleared and I slowly opened my eyes to see the ceiling above me. It took a moment for my brain to register what had disturbed my sleep. 

As I scanned the room, I saw something out of place - the blanket that had been covering me was now on the other side of the room. I got up to retrieve it, my feet hitting the cold floor. It was then that I noticed that my window was open and a chilly breeze was blowing in. I walked over to close it and couldn't resist taking a look outside at the rare sight before me - snow piled high on the ground. The children in the orphanage would be ecstatic to play in it, especially since we rarely get this much snow. Suddenly, a few snowflakes hit my face and I remembered why I had awoken. 

After closing the window, I grabbed my blanket from the floor and saw a small jar lying underneath it. Curiosity getting the best of me, I picked it up and examined its contents - just dirt. "Maybe one of the kids left it here as a joke," I mused to myself. With school tomorrow, I placed the jar back on the floor by the window and crawled back into bed with my warm blanket covering me.

The alarm buzzed sharply, cutting through the quiet like a persistent insect. I groaned, fumbling to silence it. Light crept through the frayed edges of the curtains, casting uneven shadows across my small room. My eyes caught on a jar perched on the nightstand—a strange, murky thing I didn't remember placing there. It stirred a half-formed memory of last night's dream, something fleeting and unsettling. Shaking my head, I pushed the thought aside, stretching as I trudged toward the door.

The hallway outside was alive with noise. Bare feet slapped against the wooden floorboards as two kids barreled past me, their laughter ricocheting off the walls. "Sorry, Val!" they yelled in unison, their voices trailing off as they vanished around the corner. I caught my balance against the peeling wallpaper and sighed. Life in the orphanage was always chaotic, but some days it felt like the chaos had a personal vendetta against me.

"Walk, don't run!" Mrs. Ahiko's firm yet gentle voice echoed from the kitchen. She emerged moments later, a hand on her hip and a knowing smile on her face. "And Val, do try to keep up. You'll miss breakfast at this rate."

I shrugged, trying to mask my lingering grogginess. "Morning, Mrs. Ahiko. They nearly bowled me over again."

She chuckled softly. "Ah, those two. Always a whirlwind. But don't act like you weren't their age once." Her voice softened as she handed me a plate. "Are you sleeping well, Val? You've looked tired lately."

For a moment, I considered brushing her off, but her concern always had a way of breaking down my walls. "I'm fine. Just had a weird dream, I guess."

She arched an eyebrow, her gaze piercing. "Dreams have a funny way of sticking with us. Sometimes they mean more than we realize."

I hesitated, the memory of the jar on my nightstand creeping back. "Do you think...dreams can tell you something important?"

Mrs. Ahiko's expression grew thoughtful as she folded her arms. "Maybe. Or maybe they're just our minds playing tricks. Either way, they remind us to pay attention to what matters."

Her words lingered in my mind as I sat down to eat. Mrs. Ahiko wasn't just a caretaker—she was the only person who seemed to understand the things I couldn't bring myself to say.

I remembered the day I first arrived at the orphanage like it was yesterday. I had been just a child, confused, afraid, and desperate for any sense of security. Mrs. Ahiko was there, standing at the gates, her warm smile a contrast to the cold, sterile environment that was supposed to feel like home. Her kindness was what got me through the hardest days, those first few years when the world seemed like a never-ending series of bad memories.

She was always there for me, a quiet presence when I needed it and a gentle voice when I was ready to listen. She had her own scars, though I'd never asked her about them. She never wore them like a badge, but I could tell from the way she carried herself that she had seen hardship, too. I never knew much about her past—she was a mystery to me—but that never seemed to matter. What mattered was that she was there, offering support when I had no one else.

Over the years, Mrs. Ahiko had become like a mother to me. And, as strange as it might sound, she was the only person who had never asked me about my own past. She knew I didn't talk about it, and that was fine. I don't think she ever needed to. We had our unspoken bond, a connection forged through mutual understanding and unasked questions.

Leaving the building, I was met with a blast of cold air that made me shiver. The temperature must have been below freezing, as evidenced by the snowflakes floating gently through the air without melting. "Val, close the door please!" Mrs. Ahiko's voice called from behind me in the kitchen.

But before I could do so, another familiar voice stopped me in my tracks. "Wait! Don't close the door yet!" My heart skipped a beat as I turned to see Sagiri, Mrs. Ahiko's daughter and my childhood friend.

"Hey Val, good morning!" she exclaimed cheerfully before playfully hitting me on the back.

"It was fine… until you came along." I replied with a smirk.

Sagiri and I were not together romantically, despite what many people assumed due to our close relationship. We had grown up together since I arrived at the orphanage and she was like a sister to me.

"Hurry up, or we'll be late," I said as I grabbed her hand and started running towards the university.

As we ran, Sagiri couldn't help but comment on the unusual snowfall. "It's snowing. Again," she remarked, her voice full of disbelief. "I don't think it's happened this much since we were kids."

"Yeah, climate change probably," I muttered, not giving much thought to it.

She shot me a look. "You know, if you tried just a little harder at school, you could be at the top of the class. I'm serious."

She shot me a look. "You know, if you tried just a little harder at school, you could be at the top of the class. I'm serious."

She rolled her eyes. "You're hopeless. But fine, enjoy the snow while you can. You'll be complaining about it next month."

And so, we walked the rest of the way to university in silence. Despite Sagiri's persistent attempts to push me into academic success, I was content with just being a background character in life."

As we arrived at the university, the morning air was crisp and cool. The hustle and bustle of students rushing to their classes filled the halls. My friend and I went our separate ways without saying a word to each other. As I walked to my usual seat in the back of the lecture room, I noticed one of the windows was open. As it was next to my seat, I made my way over to close it. As I gazed outside, my eyes widened in surprise at what I saw. In the center of the yard stood a figure dressed in a black robe, inside a brown circle that looked like something out of a summoning ritual from a video game. But what struck me most was the fact that there was no snow outside, despite it being the heart of winter. Instead, it looked like a scene from summer, with clear blue skies and a shining sun.

My eyes stayed glued to the scene outside the window. The figure in black stood unmoving, their presence unnerving. Then, as if sensing my gaze, they turned. Our eyes met, and the world seemed to pause. In the next breath, flames erupted from the circle around them, licking at the air with a deafening roar. I stumbled back from the window, heart pounding, just as the professor's deep voice broke through the haze. "Class is starting," he said calmly, as though nothing unusual had happened.

My hands trembled as I turned from the window, my pulse still racing. The professor sat at his desk, unfazed, his fingers methodically shuffling papers. I blinked, struggling to reconcile the fiery spectacle with the calm normalcy of the classroom. Taking a deep breath, I fumbled for my notebook, willing myself to focus. But the memory of those flames clung to me, a smoldering ember I couldn't extinguish.

Equations danced across the blackboard, but my mind refused to keep up. I kept glancing at the window, expecting—hoping?—to see something. But when I finally dared to look again, all I saw were heavy clouds rolling across a pale sky, snow blanketing the ground below. The figure in black was gone, as if they'd never existed.

My mind felt like it was wading through fog, the professor's words barely registering. Something about Planck's radiation law drifted into my ears, but it was like hearing an echo underwater. Maybe I hadn't slept enough. The professor cracked a joke—some light attempt to energize the room—but his voice seemed distant, like I was tethered to another reality. "Today, we'll dive into Quantum Mechanics," he declared, snapping me out of my daze.

The mention of such a complex subject caught everyone off guard, as it was usually reserved for final year students. But one student bravely raised her hand and answered when asked about it by our professor. The surprise on his face was evident, knowing that our class wasn't known for having the brightest minds in the university.

But little did he know, I had studied and memorized all about Planck's constant and Einstein's theories, along with other concepts in this field. My mind may have been foggy from lack of sleep, but my knowledge of Quantum Mechanics was crystal clear.

Lost in my own thoughts, I failed to notice when the class had ended and I was left alone with our professor in the room. "Mr. Oswald, I hope you are still here. You were keeping notes, not daydreaming again," he remarked with a smirk. Flustered, I quickly gathered my belongings and slung my backpack over my right shoulder.

Later, as the class ended, I packed my things quickly. "Mr. Oswald, you're still here? I hope you weren't daydreaming again," the professor joked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

I grabbed my backpack, trying to hide my discomfort. "I wasn't daydreaming. Just... distracted."

Before I could leave, he called out, "Well, just in case you didn't take notes, you can always ask your classmates. Though, it may be useless for you now. Your life's about to take a dramatic turn."

I froze, the weight of his words sinking in.

"Wait, what do you mean?" I asked, turning back, but the room was empty. He was gone.

I scanned the empty corridor for any sign of him or another faculty member but only saw students bustling about. "Maybe he went to the restroom?" I thought to myself, looking at the sign next to our classroom.

I walked into the corridor, shaking my head. "What the hell was that?" I muttered to myself.

Then, out of nowhere, a voice cut through the air. "Are you Val Oswald?"

I looked up and saw a girl in a black uniform with gold jewelry—definitely from the discipline committee. Her red hair stood out like a flame against her dark attire.

"Uh... yeah?" I said, unsure of what this was about.

She glared at me, her eyes sharp. "You need to come with me. Now."

I raised an eyebrow. "And who the hell are you?"

Her grip on my arm tightened. "Does it really matter? You're in danger. Come on!"

"I don't know you, and I'm not just going anywhere with you," I said, my voice firm.

"Listen to me!" She snapped. "You're not safe here! If you don't follow me, you might die."

I jerked my arm away, suddenly frustrated. "I'm fine. I don't even know what this is about."

Her face was tight with urgency. "You don't get it. There's something big coming, and if you don't come with me, you won't survive it."

I shook my head. "You're crazy. I'll deal with whatever comes. But you can go on your way."

She stepped back, her eyes burning with intensity. "You'll regret not listening to me," she said, before disappearing into the crowd.

What she said lingered in my mind, mixing with the professor's cryptic warning. Something was off. But I had no idea how right they were.

Shaking off the thought, I focused on getting to my next class on time.

The hour blurred by, marked only by the steady scratching of pens and the occasional cough. I barely noticed the professor leave until the hush in the room became oppressive. Frowning, I glanced at the empty chair. When had he left? My mind flicked back to the strange figure outside and the girl's warning earlier. Could they be connected?

After class, I searched for him but couldn't find him anywhere on campus. Frustrated and confused, I gave up and headed back inside to meet my friend Sagiri.

As I approached the entrance, I saw the professor walking through the gates with his brown briefcase in hand.

Rushing over to ask him why he left class earlier, his response only added to my confusion. "I didn't leave at all. In fact, I was feeling ill this morning so I stayed home. But we will make up for the missed lesson."

My mind raced as I tried to process his words. If he wasn't here, then who taught our class?

My thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of my classmates, who also seemed to have skipped the first two lessons. But their nonchalant explanation only added to my unease.

What was happening? I was certain that I had seen and interacted with the professor and my classmates earlier. Or did I imagine it all? The questions swirled in my mind as I struggled to make sense of the strange events of the day.

Feeling lost and uncertain, I gathered what little courage I had and decided to approach Sagiri for help. The whole campus seemed like a maze as I searched for her, weaving through groups of students, their chatter barely reaching my ears. After what felt like an eternity, I spotted her sitting on a metallic bench, absorbed in a conversation with her friends. Without wasting another moment, I made my way toward her, trying to maintain some semblance of composure.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?" I asked, trying to sound calm.

Sagiri looked up at me, her expression shifting from surprise to confusion. She wasn't used to seeing me approach so… normally. But after a beat, she seemed to process it, and without another word, she gestured for me to follow her as she led me to a quieter corner, away from the crowd.

"What's going on?" she asked, her tone a little guarded but curious.

I hesitated, unsure of how to start, then took a deep breath. "First, I want to apologize for the way I acted before. I know it was uncalled for."

She raised an eyebrow but nodded, accepting the apology without hesitation. "Apology accepted."

I lingered for a moment, my gaze drifting as I worked up the nerve to ask what had been weighing on my mind. "Did you… happen to see me leave my class within the first two hours today?"

Sagiri tilted her head, thinking for a moment. "Yeah, I saw you during the first lesson. I tried talking to you, but you seemed pretty out of it—lost in thought, almost like you didn't hear me. I thought maybe you were still upset with me, so I just left it alone. Why? What's this all about?"

I tried to mask the unease bubbling up in me with a small smile. "Was anyone with me when I left?"

She shook her head. "No, you were alone. Why all the questions?"

I hesitated before answering, trying to keep the growing concern out of my voice. "It's... nothing. Just something I've been thinking about. Don't worry about it."

But the way Sagiri looked at me—skeptical, as if she could see through the act—made it clear she wasn't convinced. "That smile of yours is definitely hiding something."

I chuckled nervously, trying to play it off. "Believe me, everything's fine."

"If you say so…" she muttered, clearly not buying it. She then glanced over at the clock. "Well, I guess I should go. Another lesson's starting soon."

I nodded, my heart still racing, though I was trying to push down the strange, gnawing feeling that something was off. "Yeah, I'd better get going too."

With a final glance, I turned and walked away, but the sense of unease stayed with me. Whatever was going on, it was far from over.

I chose not to divulge the strange encounter from earlier because truthfully, I wasn't sure what had happened myself. And until I had a better understanding of the situation, I didn't want to jump to any conclusions.

The next two hours passed by without any incidents - at least as far as I could tell. After Sagiri's next class started, I decided to make my way back to the orphanage. But as I walked, I couldn't shake off the distinct sound of footsteps crunching through the snow behind me.

Curiosity piqued, I took a detour through some nearby alleys to see if the steps would follow suit. And sure enough, they did. With each step I took, the sound of someone else's footsteps grew louder and more deliberate.

Determined to put an end to this strange game, I quickly turned around but remained on guard. And what I saw surprised me - it was the same girl from earlier who had been spouting nonsense at the university. Except now, her appearance was slightly disheveled with messy hair and oil stains on her uniform.

"Why are you still following me?" I demanded, trying to keep my voice steady.

"I'm just trying to help you," she replied cryptically.

"I told you, I don't need your help. Stop following me like a stalker."

"Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you. Things have a way of catching up to us eventually," she said before turning and walking away.

Her words sent a chill down my spine, but I chose to brush them off as the ramblings of a troubled mind. However, deep down, a nagging feeling told me that there was more to this encounter than meets the eye.

With a determined stride, I continued towards the orphanage, my heart heavy with anticipation and dread. As I reached for the door, I noticed Miss Ahiko rushing out in a flurry.

"Why are you in such a hurry?" I called out to her as she approached.

"Sagiri was hit by a van," the voice on the other end stammered, trembling with urgency. "She's on her way to the hospital."

My body froze at the sudden news, unable to process the shock. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced before.

"Val, snap out of it. We need to be strong," Miss Ahiko said, shaking me gently.

Numbly, I nodded and followed her into the car. The entire drive to the hospital was silent, our minds consumed with fear and uncertainty.

When we arrived at the hospital, Miss Ahiko parked the car frantically and we both rushed inside. She went straight to the receptionist and inquired about her daughter's location.

As soon as we found out where Sagiri was being treated, we hurried to the operating room. But when we arrived, a surgeon emerged with blood-soaked gloves.

Miss Ahiko immediately went to speak with him about her daughter's condition while I stood back, not wanting to interrupt. Despite his quiet voice, I could still hear what he was saying. And even if I couldn't, Miss Ahiko's reaction told me everything I needed to know.

Tears streaming down her face, she struggled to hold herself up against the nearest wall. Without hesitation, I wrapped my arms around her in a comforting embrace.

Despite my efforts to remain strong for her, tears welled up in my own eyes. For the first time in my life, I felt true sorrow. Someone dear to me had passed away without warning.

I'd always cared for Sagiri more than I'd ever admitted—even to myself. But now, that unspoken truth felt like a weight pressing on my chest. I'd never told her my biggest secret: that I loved her. The thought tightened around my throat, and as the enormity of it settled in, tears blurred my vision. It was too late now. Too late for everything.