The bell rang, echoing through the hallways of Fujimi High School, marking the start of another ordinary day. In Room 3-B, desks were scattered with textbooks, notebooks, and half-eaten snacks as students chatted loudly.
In the far corner, Ryota Takashi sat hunched over his desk, completely detached from the noise. His hand moved methodically across the paper, sketching the outline of a character. His focus was unshakable—shadows cast across the page, creating a haunting atmosphere.
"Hey, Ryota!"
A voice jolted him out of his trance. Aoi Nakamura, with her radiant smile and carefree energy, leaned over his shoulder.
"Still drawing?" she asked, trying to peek at the page.
Ryota closed his sketchbook quickly, his face unreadable. "Yeah, just... practicing," he mumbled.
"You've got talent, you know," Aoi said, her tone genuine. "You should show everyone someday."
Ryota didn't reply, only offering a faint nod as Aoi returned to her seat. She was one of the few who acknowledged him, but even her warmth barely cracked the wall he had built around himself.
By lunchtime, a buzz spread through the class. Keiko Mori stood at the center of a group, holding her phone high.
"Have you guys seen this new manga?" she asked, excitement lacing her voice.
The title, The Class Reaper, caught their attention immediately. Students crowded around, scrolling through the dark and detailed panels. The story was grim: a high school where students' deepest secrets were exposed before they were gruesomely murdered, one by one.
"What's with this art? It's amazing," Hikaru Tanabe said, flipping through the pages.
"Yeah, but it's creepy as hell," Daichi Kobayashi added, laughing nervously.
The first chapter ended with a chilling cliffhanger: the shadowy killer's first victim, a girl with short hair and a silver bracelet, being pushed from a rooftop.
"Whoever drew this has a twisted imagination," Keiko muttered, though she couldn't deny how hooked she was.
"Who made it?" Aoi asked, her brows furrowing.
"No one knows," Keiko replied. "The account's anonymous. It just... showed up this morning."
As the group debated the manga, Ryota stayed silent in the corner, pretending to flip through his textbook. His heart pounded as he listened to their reactions, a small smile curling on his lips.
The Rooftop Incident
That evening, the rain came down in torrents, drenching the empty school grounds. Haruka Yoshida, a second-year student with short hair and a distinct silver bracelet, climbed the stairs to the rooftop. She had left her umbrella there earlier and didn't want to risk going home without it.
The rooftop was eerily quiet, save for the rain tapping against the concrete. Haruka retrieved her umbrella, but as she turned to leave, she paused.
A sound—a faint scuffle behind her.
"Hello?" she called out, her voice trembling.
There was no reply.
She started walking faster, her breath quickening. Just as she reached the door, a figure emerged from the shadows. She turned too late.
A shove sent her tumbling over the edge.
Her scream echoed briefly before being swallowed by the storm.
Tuesday Morning
By the next morning, news of Haruka Yoshida's death was spreading through the school. Students whispered in hushed tones, exchanging glances as they passed her now-empty desk.
"An accident," Hikaru said, leaning against his desk. "That's what they're saying."
"An accident? She fell off the rooftop," Keiko said sharply. "That doesn't just... happen."
Aoi listened quietly, her fingers gripping her pen.
Saki Fujimoto, seated by the window, broke the silence. "Doesn't it feel... weird? Like, the girl in The Class Reaper—didn't she fall from a rooftop too?"
A chill ran through the room.
"Come on," Daichi said, forcing a laugh. "You're not saying this is connected to some random manga, right?"
But even as he spoke, he couldn't shake the unease creeping up his spine.
In the corner, Ryota sat silently, his eyes fixed on his sketchbook. The noise around him faded into the background as his mind raced.
Ryota's Room
Late at night, Ryota's room was dimly lit, the glow of his desk lamp illuminating the piles of paper scattered around him. Drawings of Haruka, the rooftop, and the bracelet covered his desk, each detail meticulously recreated.
He opened his laptop and uploaded the second chapter of The Class Reaper.
The new chapter mirrored Haruka's death in chilling detail: the rain-soaked rooftop, the sound of footsteps, the silent fall.
Ryota leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smirk on his face.
"Let's see what they think about this," he murmured, glancing at his newest sketch: a smiling boy with messy hair, unmistakably Daichi Kobayashi.
To Be Continued...