A rustle.
Thin, like a sigh.
Takashi froze.
The air around him shook, and the corridor in front of him changed. He saw it – out of the corner of his eye, as if through cloudy glass. For a moment, the walls were bright again, the lamps glowed, and children in old school uniforms ran down the corridor. Some laughed, some carried textbooks, and some stood at the window, staring at the moon.
Takashi squirmed, and when he opened his eyes, the school was gloomy and abandoned again.
What was that…?
He looked into the classroom. Empty desks, a blackboard where someone had once written something… but now....
He saw them again. Pale silhouettes sitting at their desks. The teacher at the blackboard, his voice a mere echo that couldn't break through the thickness of time. Their faces were blurred, like rain-wiped drawings on paper.