AN: Have you watched Toilet Bound Hanako-kun? Don't worry if you didn't! The basic premise is that there are seven 'ghost stories' (The Seven Wonders/Mysteries) in school, and they're real. Normal ghosts/spirits/wandering souls are real as well, normal people just can't see them.
In this oneshot, the GoM including Aisaka are those seven supernatural beings. Basically, they're ghosts! P.s the number of the mysteries don't exactly matter, but number Seven is the leader, so that's Akashi.
And thus, I have slotted in every side character into Teiko Junior High so this story can take place in the same school. I only managed to fit about half of them in this chapter, cause it's about 6k now haha. Enjoy reading.
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Mystery #7: The Shogi Board
"Hey, have you heard? There's a ghost in the Student Council second Room, and he's always looking for someone to play Shogi with-- apparently if you win, he'll grant you any one wish. If you lose, however..."
-
"Hey, have you heard?"
Furihata jolts. Himuro leans over his desk and smiles, almost deviously.
"I- Is it another ghost story?" Furihata asks, his voice shaking, slowly closing his book. "You know I don't do well with those, Himuro-san."
Furihata honestly doesn't know why he's always in this situation.
The basketball club is full of deviant seniors, and because Himuro 'I don't have a brother complex' Tatsuya always manages to come by when Kagami runs off, Furihata is stuck entertaining one of the weirder members of the bunch.
Himuro keeps smiling anyways. "It's fine, isn't it? They're interesting. And I've told you about all the school mysteries except the seventh thus far," he says, ignoring Furihata's whine of 'I don't wanna hear them please' in favour of his tale. "So, you know how the Student Council's second room has a Shogi Board?"
Furihata hums at that, thinking back.
The Student Council's second room-- or, the old Student Council room, which is now used as a secret breaktime lounge of sorts-- does in fact have an infamous Shogi Board by the window.
There are bookshelves, there is a tea set, and even desks. The Shogi Board is always there, the only entertainment in that weird room arrangement, other than the bookshelves and the tea set. No one quite knows why the Student Council hasn't removed or returned it to the Shogi Club yet.
"I heard that if you enter the room when no one else is around, you'll find the pieces all set up," Himuro says. "With one side having moved once, specifically."
Furihata already doesn't like where this is going.
"Apparently, the student council president many generations ago was unbeatable at Shogi," Himuro says, his voice lowering to an ominous tone. "And he's still there, eagerly waiting for worthy challengers..."
Furihata shivers, "what happens if you play against him?"
Himuro smirks. "Well, if you win, I heard he will grant you anything you want. But if you lose..."
Furihata swallows thickly.
Himuro doesn't get to answer, though-- because in the next second, Kagami is back like a whirlwind, and his eyes zero in on Himuro immediately.
"Hey, Tatsuya! Stop dropping by whenever the hell you want!"
Himuro's immediately distracted, and Furihata is left with his stomach in dread. He shouldn't have listened to anything Himuro said, because now he's too scared to go anywhere anymore.
-
Yeah, regret.
He swears, he came to the room to return a book. He was going to drop by, return it, go. Not even going to stay for a second to sit.
Then he opens the door and the Shogi Board is right there by the evening light, pieces set perfectly and the Dragon Horse set to P-76.
Furihata almost turns right around and leaves, the book be damned.
But he takes a deep breath, closes his eyes-- and nearly stumbles right over the first couch. Okay, deep breaths, he can do this, almost.
Okay nevermind he can't do this someone save him.
He ignores the shogi board, places the book back into the shelf, writes his name down as returned, and--
--and there's an impatient tap, like a fingernail against wood. It's from the window, right by where the Shogi Board is supposed to be.
He doesn't look over.
It can't be natural.
He has to go, now.
Two taps this time, from the Shogi Board. Curiosity finally gets the better of him, and he turns his gaze over.
What he sees makes his breath stick to his throat, his heart freezing in place.
Three taps against the wood, a teenager sits on the chair, resting his chin on his palm. His hair was a shade of faded scarlet, his eyes reflecting heterochromatic against his reflection in the window.
He isn't looking at Furihata-- he has his stoical eyes on the Shogi board, tapping contemplatively for his opponent (no one's sitting down on the other side. Is it me? Does he want me to sit there?) to make a move.
(Tapping impatiently, wordlessly demanding his opponent to sit down, entertain me, would you?)
It's strange. This redhead is wearing the same uniform, looks about the same age-- and yet, Furihata has never seen him before.
No, of course he hasn't. This guy is obviously-- there's no way he's-- he wasn't there before, so... oh god.
The red-haired boy glances up at Furihata, and turns back to the shogi pieces.
"Are we not playing?"
Furihata's entire body freezes up.
His voice is hollow, and seems to resonate through the room. Maybe the nerves and the emptiness of the place are affecting his hearing, but Furihata clenched tightly at the strap of his bag, his feet bolted to the ground.
He needs to run. Wants to run. Has to run. Now.
He tries to say something but he doesn't know what to say. He's seconds away from crumbling entirely, and the redhead turns fully to him, smiling.
The door slams open.
"Furihata!" the boy squeaks, surprised. He whirls around to find Nijimura, glaring at him, "I thought I told you all first years stay in the gym cause one of you guys have to keep the key for the night?"
Nijimura is the student council president and basketball club captain all at once-- and if there's something everyone in school knows, he's very loud.
Oh. Oh!
"I- I'm sorry! It slipped my mind!" Furihata says, flustered.
Nijimura grits his teeth once, then sighs and turns away, muttering something about irresponsible little juniors that always need to be led around.
Furihata takes a peek over to the window-- and the redhead is gone.
"Whatcha looking at?" Nijimura barks, and Furihata snaps back to attention. "You got the short end of the stick, so you're taking the key. Open it at six tomorrow morning, got it?"
"Ehhhh?! That's way too early!"
"No complaining!"
Furihata whines as he's ushered out of the room. He doesn't catch the way Nijimura glances back toward the window, a firm glare set in his brows.
-
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Mystery #2: The Boy on the Stairs
"Hey, have you heard? Every once in a while, you'll find a boy sitting on the topmost step at the second floor of the East Wing. He can't walk, so he can't do anything, but if you fall..."
-
In the East Building, there's a flight of stairs on the far end.
There's nothing beyond it but a storeroom, and though it also leads downward, there are other options in a nearer vicinity, so people seldom go there.
Kasamatsu finds himself running the world's most infuriating errand in the world.
Seriously, who keeps old documents in that storeroom? It's probably covered with the thickest layer of dust in the world, if it hasn't been eaten by termites yet.
"Pretty please, Kasamatsu-kun?" the club advisor pleaded to him, looking honestly regretful, "it's fine if they're gone, but just check, y'know?"
Kasamatsu thinks it'll be impolite to refuse an honest request, so he says yes, even if he thinks it's annoying as dear hell.
"Hey, about that storeroom," Hayakawa warns when Kasamatsu tells him why he's going to be late for practice that day, "apparently, if you see someone there, you shouldn't talk to them."
"Someone?" Kasamatsu asks, perusing the key and the faded out storeroom label on it. "Like, it's some weirdo's secret hideout or something?"
"No," Hayakawa stresses the word, "someone as in a ghost."
Kasamatsu freezes midway toward his yakisoba bun.
"Come again?"
Seriously? Some freaky ghost story in this day and age? And about the isolated storeroom no less, how unoriginal could this get?
"Ain't joking!" Hayakawa warns sternly. "Don't look at it, don't talk to it! Apparently if you do, it'll shove you down the stairs or something."
To make it worse, someone beside them who was eavesdropping actually adds in another point-- "Apparently it's a ghost of someone that got into an accident and ended up paralysed waist-down, so they're jealous of everyone with working limbs. It's one freaky thing alright."
Kasamatsu thinks that's a decent horror story, but he highly doubts any of that is actually worth worrying about.
-
Kasamatsu takes it all back and he needs to run back to Hayakawa to ask for countermeasures immediately.
There's a boy with indigo hair sitting at the topmost step, and his gaze is fixed directly on Kasamatsu as the senior walks up. Unblinking, unwavering-- the boy just stares almost condescendingly, at Kasamatsu.
Who is this boy? That hair length is past regulations, and though he's wearing the Teiko uniform, he's barefoot. He wasn't even wearing socks.
He's gonna break out in hives at how nervous he is. Kasamatsu is trying his darn best at not looking back at the boy, but he's in cold sweat and he's only halfway up. Maybe he should turn around.
The boy smiles, like he knows.
Kasamatsu wants to run. Yeah, maybe he should. These stairs are steep, each step uneven and a different height from the one before. Surrounded on both sides by walls, it didn't have handrails.
Kasamatsu set a hand on the wall and turned around.
"Don't turn around."
He flinches, heart jumping right out of his mouth but he swallows it back in to shrink sharply against the walls.
The indigo-haired boy is looking really closely at him now.
"If you want to go down, go all the way up first," he warns, like it's supposed to be common sense. "Don't you know? Stairs are doorways to other worlds. If you don't traverse it in the right way, you'll end up somewhere else."
And. And yeah, Kasamatsu has heard that before. Probably from his dad or his grandad or something.
But most of all, this kid is talking to him. Ghosts can talk? Maybe this isn't a ghost.
"O- Of course I know that!" he snaps, blushing at his own falter. Shit, don't talk to it. He's already looking at it and all, so he's screwed. He rushes up the remaining few steps, skipping the last second step before breathing out a sigh of relief.
He turns around, ready to give the kid a stern talking-to about spooking people--
--but he's gone.
The boy with indigo hair is gone, and so are the stairs.
There's only a wall behind him, and Kasamatsu's stomach sinks in dread. He backs off, horrified-- only to grow even more fearful when water splashes around his feet. It doesn't feel cold, or warm-- it doesn't even soak his shoes. The water floods everywhere he sees, rising to just above his ankles.
And when he turned around again, what used to be a storage room and a dead end now led to a long hallway that didn't seem to have an end.
"Ahh, too bad."
Kasamasu squeaks, jumping away.
The indigo-haired boy floats upside down, leaning against nothing in the air like a Cheshire cat slouching lazily against a branch.
"You shouldn't skip any steps either," the boy says.
The indigo-haired boy smiles, swirling in the air, spinning a few cheerful circles before phasing through the wall, and phasing back with just his upper body.
He earns a shriek from Kasamatsu, and he grins.
Kasamatsu's jaw drops, and he backs off against the wall-- only for his hand to phase right through it.
One instinctive step back, and he realizes-- the wall is an illusion, and the stairs are still there. His foot slips against the next step-- and he knows there's only a very painful slide to go from here, with nothing to hold on to.
"Shit--!!"
A scream is stuck in his throat. He reaches out, desperate-- but there are no handrails, no people...
A hand snatches his arm up by the elbow, and Kasamatsu skids painfully aside, bumping his knee against the staircase and sparkling awkwardly over the steps-- but his momentum comes to a halt, so his hand manages to reach a higher surface and hold on, albeit a little harder than necessary.
He narrowly avoided breaking a leg.
"You alright?"
He looks up.
"Nijimura...?"
When did he get here?
(And when did all the water disappear?)
Nijimura looks at him for a moment, his eyes narrowing into a scowl. His hand grips roughly on Kasamatsu's arm-- though adrenaline meant the latter wouldn't notice it until the bruises formed-- and his gaze snaps up, back toward the storage room.
"Don't screw around, he could've gotten hurt!"
Kasamatsu has honestly never heard the captain speak so fiercely before. Even in basketball practice, his voice was loud-- not fierce and threatening, and so fearful.
"What's wrong with all of you? You know you shouldn't hurt the people around!"
What was he talking to? Ah-- Kasamatsu looks over, spotting the boy with indigo hair back at the top of the steps, sitting down and staring down with an upset expression.
"What am I supposed to do? My rumour changed again, so there's nothing I can do about it," he says, like a child finding an excuse to escape a reprimand. "To begin with, you should've been supervising that. Maybe you should've watched over the talk of the town better."
"Do not," Nijimura seethes, "fucking try to gaslight me. I have a ton of shit to sort through on my end and you guys aren't helping!" Nijimura grumbles some other profanity under his breath.
The ghost boy winces, "alright alright, I'll tell the others. But deal with the rumours too, please." He floats a little, then smiles down at Kasamatsu. "See ya."
And then he vanishes.
Nijimura hisses at the boy's direction once more, but turns away with a resigned huff. Kasamatsu hasn't picked up his jaw yet, still baffled by the occurrence.
Did he just-- disappear? No, that just now-- oh crap he almost died.
And was Nijimura talking to it?
"Get up, Kasamatsu," Nijimura speaks, and Kasamatsu jolts, turning his attention to the student council president. He was glaring at the air, eyes stuck in a spot.
Kasamatsu brings himself to his feet.
They don't speak of it again.
-
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Mystery X: The Black Hands
"People tend to say that if you've misplaced something, it's been taken by the faeries. And that's true-- the 'stagehands' of the school-- they pick up all the forgotten things when you look away... even people, if they fit the bill."
-
Kagami loses things easily.
Like a few coins, or his pencils, or his house key. Fuck, he lost his house key again. Tatsuya is going to rip him a new one.
"We don't have anything like that in the lost and found, but..." The Vice President, Imayoshi, looks toward the President's table.
President Nijimura looks up from his paperwork, annoyed, "what? A lost item?" he asks. He doesn't wait for an answer-- he retrieves a piece of paper form under his desk and hands it to the redhead. "Fill in the details."
Kagami takes the paper apprehensively.
It's a list of names-- and items. Lunchboxes, pens, notebooks, wallets. All sorts of important stuff were on the list-- were people in this school really so prone to losing their things?
To his surprise, once he was done writing his name and description of his keys, Nijimura picks up the piece of paper and stands up. Handling it in his hands like one would a leaflet, he yawns, dismissing himself for a patrol outside.
"You can come back after school and see if I find it," Nijimura tells him.
Kagami's very confused.
-
"Do you know what hell it is to find you?"
Kagami wipes his hands on his pants, hears the voice, and instantly whirls back over the corner of the hallway.
A right turn here would lead to a dead end forward, but the AV door to the left. No one approaches this area during class-- hell, the only ones wandering around at this time would be those going to the washroom or the student council.
So that's Nijimura, but who is he talking to?
"You stole a bunch of stuff again, didn't you?" the student council president says with an air of ire. "How many times do I have to tell you to keep your hands to yourself?"
"I don't steal."
That's a voice Kagami hasn't heard before. Monotonous, almost eerily, spoken with all the tone of an empty shell.
"I only pick them up."
Kagami's head fills with his annoyance. That sounded like poisonous behaviour-- so was that the situation? Someone was going about stealing things from students and that's why there are so many lost item situations?
Nijimura clicks his tongue. "If it isn't given to you, you cannot take it."
"I cannot do that," the answer is immediate and chilling-- still toneless, but strong-- "it is my nature, after all. I cannot defy it."
A groan from Nijimura. "I get it, I get it. I'll find out who's spreading the rumours. But return them right now. I'll give you a vanilla milkshake."
Kagami peeks over the corner-- and his breath stills.
Nijimura was speaking to a boy with light blue hair. He may have been wearing the uniform of the school, but Kagami sure as hell wasn't interested in that.
Sprouting from the boy's back, staining the walls and even spiralling across the ceiling like a messy splotch of pure black paint-- were innumerable hands. The window was darkened by the shadows of those hands, not a hint of daylight making it through to the hallways.
Kagami's eyes widened. What is he looking at?
"What's that look for? Not enough for you?" NIjimura says, irritated. "Fine, you can use the basketball gym at nighttime. Keep it clean, though."
And almost mockingly, the boy with light blue hair smiles.
"That is fair," he says, sealing the deal. "Can honourable number two and honourable number six come with me?"
"Do whatever you want-- wait, number two? I thought that guy's entire thing was being paralyzed below the waist?" Nijimura sounds baffled, "and I don't care what you do, but if you're bringing six with you, make sure he doesn't break anything."
There's no elaboration.
NIjimura makes a frustrated whine. "Whatever. Just clean up before morning practice starts."
"Understood. Please don't forget the vanilla milkshake."
"I get it, I get it. Geez you're just as annoying as the rest of them."
Nijimura eventually leaves and Kagami hides as he passes. No one else comes out of the dead end, but when the redhead checks again-- the ghastly shadowed figure is gone, and daylight streamed through the window once more.
He does find his house keys in the lost and found box after school, though.
(And after school, there's no one in the gym.)
-
Mystery #6: The Observer of the Clock Tower
"Hey, have you heard? If you're on the roof at the time the bell rings for 6th period, you'll find a boy sitting at the edge. He's the grim reaper of this school, and he's always eagerly waiting for the next soul..."
-
Sakurai has always struggled.
With his family, with his studies, with relationships-- they were all so difficult for him. His head caves in each day, and even when he does find the courage to make it to school, he ends up hiding on the roof when times really counted.
Today was like this too.
The roof was obvious and open and students were allowed up there-- so Sakurai headed in the opposite direction, to the large mother clock, and the large bell that rests above the tower.
It was a nice, isolated space. Just enough to crouch and hide for hours. No one ever comes by here-- there was technology for the half-hourly bells, so this place was just an old decoration now.
Sakurai sits down, curls up-- and distracts himself with a book.
It was nice here. Calm, cooling... and there was nothing to disturb him. He could stay here, fighting his thoughts alone. If anyone notices him gone-- well, he'll cry and apologize about that later.
"Ding-dong~"
He jumps.
Looking up quickly-- he sees a boy his age, sitting by the edge of the cruddy brick walls. He's wearing Teiko's school uniform, albeit with a sweater instead of the more common blazer.
When did he get here?
He wasn't here before.
(Sakurai has never seen hair that blue before.)
"It's sixth period," he says, like a reminder.
Right on cue, Sakurai can hear the school's regulated chime ring through the school building. But he isn't interested in that-- something about the teen's voice-- was enchanting, in a haunting way.
Like it came from a bell, it was hollow, reverberating, almost as if it was far away.
The boy turns around, and smiles.
(The white talisman, with only one word-- "Seal"-- stands out against his tanned cheek. He doesn't let it bother him, but Sakurai's eyes linger on it.)
"Who are you?" Sakurai doesn't know what else to say. There shouldn't be anyone else outside of class right now, not that he could judge. "I'm sorry if I'm intruding. I'm-- I'll uh, leave right away--"
"Do you know?" the boy speaks, not quite registering Sakurai excusing himself. "From the day this clock tower was built, more than fifty people have jumped from this very same edge."
Sakurai freezes.
That was an incredibly uncomfortable topic to bring up unprompted.
The wind rustles those deep blue locks, and he closes his eyes to enjoy it. And then he grins, pushing himself forward-- and forward, too far forward--
"Wha-- Wait, no!" Sakurai yelps as the boy falls, leaving the skyline and dropping fast, his clothes flapping upward with a vain stretch of his hand.
(And he was smiling the whole time.)
Sakurai lunges forward, looking down in a panic--
--but no one was below.
Then a laughter rings out beside him.
"Just kidding," there was the boy with blue hair again, sitting in the same spot he was before, as if he hadn't moved at all.
But this time-- there was something new. A large, long scythe rests against his shoulder, the elegant, blue-tinted blade domineeringly following the curve of his back.
It was the length of a large human male, perhaps even longer. The boy crouches on the edge, legs, pulling up to his chest. He handles the scythe as a magician picks up his magic wand-- casual, comfortable-- and as one.
"It's always so funny to see you guys panic like that!" he teases, and Sakurai feels his heart going a mile a minute.
Did this guy just-- what the hell-- that was not funny!
"That wasn't funny!" he snaps, tears prickling at the edge of his eyes. He temporarily forgets the horror of the grim-reaper reminiscent weapon. "What the hell were you thinking? This isn't a joke!"
The boy's smile grows, as if he had wanted to rile Sakurai in the first place, and was overjoyed that he had succeeded.
"Well, if you're angry, you must not be ready to jump yet," the boy says, standing up. The scythe spins as he rises, the blade making a halfway turn to direct its point against the sky. "That's nice. Kinda wish the other fifty were as gutsy as you."
Huh?
A blink-- a gust of strange wind-- and the boy was gone.
Sakurai swirls his head around, searches-- but the boy was nowhere to be found. In this narrow little enclosure, the boy had vanished.
"Take a leap of faith if you want," the voice was back again-- and Sakurai's stomach fell, realizing where exactly the voice had been coming from all this time. "Don't worry, I'll stop you just once."
It's the bell.
The voice came from the bell.
"I-" he stutters-- "I'm sorry!" he yells to no one. He rushes down the stairs, doesn't look back, and makes his way back to class.
Just in time for seventh period to start.
-
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Mystery #4: The Garden of Memories.
"Hey, have you heard? There's a novel series in our school library that doesn't exist anywhere else. It's a trilogy, but the last installment was never published before the author died. Now it can only be found when you're invited to a tea party, hosted in the garden of memories..."
-
Hanamiya Makoto may be a delinquent and the school's notorious troublemaker, but he's also got a very uncharacteristic love for reading. Or so the people tend to say.
Not often do people look past the stereotypes to realize Hanamiya was probably smarter than them. And he's fine with that-- all the more fun when he infuriates them slowly over time.
Anyways.
"Hey, Hanamiya, you skipping chemistry again?"
Seto asks, stepping forward to slot the book he was reading back into its spot.
Hanamiya hums noncommittally, flipping the page of the book. He was great at Chemistry anyways-- the teacher was probably much dumber than him in his raw opinion, so he never bothered attending her class.
"The Garden of Memories?" Seto asks. "You're already on book two?"
When Hanamiya hums again, Seto reaches for the first book of that same series.
This book was one of the greatest enigmas in their school-- you won't find a trace of this online, not even an article on Wikipedia. And if that wasn't odd enough, none of the librarians or teachers even know when this appeared on their shelves.
It's always been there, and has never been removed. And yet, the cover was pristine, the pages only a faint, aged yellow.
The paper was stiff, not softened like old, well-read books should be, and though there are many that claim to have read it, the book stayed in beautiful condition.
The author's name, 'Momoi Satsuki', would come up on google as a girl that attended Teiko in its founding days, and died before she graduated. The Momoi family had no descendants, and thus no longer exists in Japan in this day and age.
"You know, there are only bad rumours about that book," Seto warns him, in case hasn't heard it yet. "Last I've heard, there's no ending, and sometimes you get weird letters after you finish the second letter--"
Hanamiya chortles. "Little miss author took the ending with her to hell, right? And if you read all three books, you'll be invited to negotiate-- except, she won't just say no, she'll kill you if she doesn't think you deserve it."
Yeah, that sums it up.
"Well, I think it's a load of bullshit," is Hanamiya's opinion on it. "Nice story though."
Seto decides the conversation is as good as done there. There's no way a realist like Hanamiya would look at school mysteries with anything but ridicule. "Well, if you say so," he shrugs. "I'm headed back to class. See ya."
Hanamiya gives him a dismissive wave. He stays there, seated on the floor, leaning against the bookshelf, the book in his lap.
The lights of the library dimmed as the librarians left for class, and Hanamiya is left inside with his silence to read.
Perfect.
-
[The Garden of Memories] was a strange story.
A nameless main character finds their way into the realm of where memories are stored, sewn, and altered. They granted incredible luck to turn the world on its edge. They made people miserable, playing god in the name of karmic fate.
Eventually, they had spent so long in the memories of everyone in the world that they had forgotten their own name. No matter how hard they tried, they no longer remembered their own story.
(They had become the nothing in the world of everything, and thus they no longer had anywhere to go back to.)
The main character was rotten to the core and only did selfish things-- it was really rare to find something Hanamiya could unironical relate to like that. But they were the protagonist and antagonist of their own story, wandering around until they no longer had a purpose.
Ultimately, the book was like that, too. It seemed pointless, dumb-- and unsensible at times, especially as a literary piece.
But Hanamiya found himself reading, and he enjoyed it.
So when he reached the end of the second book, he inevitably found himself craving for more. It did end on quite an unsatisfying note, after all-- from the last book was supposed to tie up those loose ends.
He looks up, instinctively finding the section of the bookshelf that this book was supposed to go. He knew he wouldn't find the third book up there, but--
His eyes widened.
--but something else was there, peeking out from the shelf like a loose piece of paper.
He stands up with a start. That thing was not there before-- Seto would've said something, and no one else was in this library, much less someone that could come close enough to slot an-- it's an envelope-- right above him.
The paper was old and yellowed, but crisp in an unused way.
Whoever wrote the letter didn't even bother peeling the seal for the gum, and the paper's from a school-issued exercise book.
"[You will find the entrance to the Garden of Memories]," it reads.
(Word for word, the first line of the novel.)
What's worse-- Hanamiya could tell. This writing-- not just the habitual strokes-- even the pen used was similar to the author's ending notes, handwritten at the end of each book.
What sort of fucking prank is this?
Hell if he was falling for it.
Slotting the paper back into the envelope and into the last page of the novel, he put the book back into the shelf. He wasn't going to entertain this-- since he's done reading, he'll go back to class or go sleep on the roof or something.
But his next step changes everything.
Spilled through the tiled flooring of the Teiko library-- was a pure red carpet, leading from under his foot, to a left turn forward.
That's not how it looked before. Heck-- there isn't even supposed to be a left turn here. These are the last shelves in the library, there's only reference books in that direction...
"...what the fuck."
The shelf was gone, and the road opened up into a narrow, torch-lit hallway, leading so far down the end was a deep chasm that couldn't be discerned from where he stood.
Nah, he's way too smart a guy to walk right into this horror movie situation.
(But if it's true...)
He laughs. Well, whatever then-- seems like dying here is the fun alternative to sitting through math class or getting caught playing truant and earning detention.
He lifts his phone out of his pocket and sends a text.
"Alright then... Seto, Seto, where's that guy's contact,," he mumbles as he unhesitatingly walks down the hallways, typing as quickly as he can, "if I die, uh... feed my hamster for me. Yeah that'll do. And send."
A giggle reaches his ears.
"You're such a delinquent, but you sure can send some cute texts, huh?"
He looks up-- and his jaw drops. He hadn't even been walking for a minute-- and yet, the narrow walkway had given way to a lush green enclosure. Potted plants lined the walls, displayed on steps, and flowers bloomed in seedbeds.
Among it all, the red carpet had vanished. He stood on a yellow brick road that paved the way forward, and an uncomfortable amount of water rose to his ankle, not warm or cold and barely even permeating the cotton of his socks.
The greenhouse was large, so he couldn't see the full expanse of it-- but in the distance, he noted wide and high bookcases thoroughly encased in vines.
The Garden of Memories-- seriously? Is he dreaming?
"Welcome! It's been a while since I've had a guest, so sit down, sit down!"
He doesn't notice the pink-haired girl until she's an inch away from his face. She beams, gesturing at the stone table that had-- come out of nowhere, honestly-- and urges him to sit down.
She's wearing the Teiko uniform, but Hanamiya is really sure he would've noticed if a bombshell like her was in school. Especially if they have a talisman on their face.
Seriously, 'SEAL'? It's old fashioned, and it's stuck right at her cheek. Saying it's fashion would be a lousy excuse-- no one does that.
He's wary of the seats, so instead, he acts casual.
"So are you Momoi Satsuki?"
The girl leans against the hilt of a giant pair of gardening scissors (okay what in the everloving hell are those things), patiently glancing at the chairs as an indication that she was still waiting for the boy to sit down.
Hanamiya gulps.
This was either an elaborate early April Fools capture tactic, or he was in danger. Probably the latter, but he was way too amused to care, really.
Instead, he sits down.
The girl almost too delightedly sits down opposite of him.
The tea appears before he'd even blinked-- is that the trend in this mysterious space-- and the girl takes a sip. Hanamiya does not.
"I'm so honoured you've read my work," she says, all smiles and cheer. "It's been so long since someone's been invested in it. Thanks so much, really."
Hanamiya scowls, leaning back on his chair. "I didn't come here for tea."
And her eyes immediately sharpened, "yes, I am aware." When did the scissors get on the table? "Please remain quiet while I decide."
He gulps. That was a threat, definitely-- he's heard better threats from the other thugs around school and even in the basketball club, but never from a girl holding a pair of scissors larger than his body.
Well, is he intimidated?
No, he's absolutely charmed.
"So, this place is the Garden of Memories? In actuality?" he asks, standing up. The bookshelves in the distance-- not so far, actually, the yellow brick roads make very neat paths around-- are lined with black and white books, too many to count.
"No, it's a recreation," she tells him, taking a sip of her tea. Her tone has lost its cheer, but it's not any less gentle. "The information, however, is accurate. However, you do know the rules."
The black books are the deceased, the white books are still alive. If you unlawfully alter any of them, the books turn red, and so do your hands, and your soul.
"Can I read them?" he asks anyways.
The girl smiles.
"No, I don't think I like you."
And instantly, the world spins.
It swirls like a kaleidoscope, colours and light meshing together in chaotic phosphenes-- he squeezes his eyes shut, biting back the nausea-- and he finds himself in the school library once more .
There was no water on the ground. The yellow brick road was nowhere to be found, and neither was the dark hallway.
Hanamiya tuts. "Stingy bitch."
Almost as if in response to that insult, a book flies across the air and nails him right in the head. Fuck that hurt-- a dictionary? Who chucks a dictionary at people's heads?!
He swirls around in annoyance-- only to stop short at the sight of the Student Council President, Nijimura Shuzo.
(And he looks pissed.)
"You're lucky she didn't stab you," the president says, and Hanamiya's eyes widened. "And if you'd buttered her up a bit she would've let you read, you moron."
Nijimura was standing there, speaking as if the supernatural bullshit Hanamiya had experienced was common knowledge.
What the hell?
"Nijimura ya bastard, I knew you were secretly a demon all along."
"Shut the hell up and get your ass back to class!"
Hanamiya laughs dryly at that. Well, whatever then-- that's all of his bullshit quota for today, he's going to go back to class and sleep. Now that Nijimura's here, he's not getting anymore class skipping out of today.
"Man, I kinda wanted to know the ending, but whatever," he sighs.
That was the point of the invitation, wasn't it-- to read the ending? But those books of life also seemed interesting...
Nijimura watches him leave, his gaze narrowed and his arms crossed.
Then he scoffs.
"Nah, you really don't."
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TRIVIA:
1. Nijimura is the Student Council President and Basketball Team Captain at the same time. Lord save him, imagine all the delinquents in the show in one place.
2. Kuroko doesn't have a number because he's not one of the Seven Mysteries-- he's just a spirit that wanders about school, a little less popular than the others.
3. Aomine and Momoi have a talisman with the word 'SEAL' on their cheek. That is because they are each other's Yorishiro. If you don't know what that is-- it's basically the most precious possession of a school mystery, and the source of their power.
4. Aisaka can't walk, but he can float because ghost privileges.