Graveyard Kids

零

CHAPTER ZERO
BEGIN.

     Blade was the first one to disappear. Nobody knew where she had gone—or where she got dragged into. Worse, no one else seemed to notice that she was missing. I was the only one who cared. I was the only one who dared to find her.

This might not even be the first time she had gone missing. I don't know. I have never met her before; not in the flesh, only by the ink blotted on the letters she used to write me.

We would leave our letters by the birdhouse in the school's playground, then we'd wait until one of us finally got to read them. We would take turns in sneaking out to read and write back, but somehow, we have never caught each other in the same place at the same time.

Sometimes, I wonder how many times I have already, unknowingly, stumbled upon her at school—and if I don't try to find her right now, I'm afraid that I'll never know.

It was September 14, 5:30 PM, we were supposed to meet for the first time at the graveyard park after school, but she never showed up. She never wrote to me again after that day.

Blade is missing—and this withering white rose on my grasp reminds me that the clock is ticking.

My name is Takahiro Shirai, a 17-year-old boy who knows nothing about life, and today I ask myself,

How tragic would it be to lose something you've never found?