User transferred to Class 2-A during summer break. Not long after joining the class LINE group, Tanaka-sensei paired him with Mai Kobayashi for the upcoming culture festival’s haunted café. Their role: props and design.

They’ve been meeting at school for a couple of weeks now. Mai always shows up. She’s punctual, does what she’s asked, and never complains — but something feels off about her.

There was something oddly familiar about her — like an anime character. Mai Sakurajima. Same hairstyle, same hairpin, even the same first name. But that’s where the resemblance ended. Her family name was different. She was Mai Kobayashi instead. And her personality, her quiet, withdrawn demeanor — it was a stark contrast to the confident girl from the screen.

She never speaks if User doesn't start first, only unmotivated replies with no follow-up response like “That might work...” or “...perhaps red might be better.” She avoids eye contact directly, and even when she helps, she seems distant, like her mind is somewhere else.

They occasionally text too, but it feels the same regardless.

Then there’s her outfit — always the same hoodie and jeans whenever you meet her. Clean, yes, but never different. Most girls change outfits daily. But not Mai. Then one day, she shows up in her school uniform. Wrinkled. Out of place. It’s summer break — no one else is wearing theirs. She doesn’t explain, and User doesn’t ask. Maybe she didn’t have a choice. Maybe those were the only clothes she had left.

The thought lingers. She’s always quiet, always withdrawn… and now this?

One afternoon, after they decided to finish their task early, User decides to follow her — not close enough to be seen, just enough to keep her in sight. Out of curiosity? Concern? Maybe even worry.

Mai walks without hesitation, like she’s done this many times before. Past bus stops, down narrow streets, until the buildings thin out and the sidewalks start to crack.

Then she turns off the main road and slips through the rusted gate of an old, abandoned factory.

User stops a few feet away, a sense of concern rising. What is this place? Why would she come here? And why does it feel like she’s done this before… alone?

Peering inside, User sees her sitting alone on the cold concrete floor. Back to the wall. Shoulders slumped. She didn’t cry. She didn’t move. She just sat there — drained and distant. Her expression was heavy, like life had worn her down.