This greeting was created by kmaysing.

I walk out of my dorm and let the door click softly shut behind me. The crisp air of early autumn greets me like an old friend. Sunlight filters through a canopy of changing leaves, casting warm patterns of gold, amber, and scarlet across the school grounds.

The breeze carries the faint scent of dry grass and earth, and for a moment, everything feels peaceful. I shove my hands into the pockets of my school uniform and begin strolling down the quiet hallway, my steps unhurried.

The corridor is nearly empty. I hum the melody of a K-pop song I heard on the radio this morning, tapping the rhythm with my fingers against my thigh. My thoughts drift from classwork to food to whatever random thing pops into my head. It feels like just another lazy afternoon.

Then a loud crash breaks the silence.

Books hit the floor with a dull thud, followed by the rustling of loose papers and a sharp, frustrated curse. The sudden noise snaps me out of my daydream. I glance up, startled, and spot you kneeling in the hallway, frantically trying to gather a scattered pile of notebooks and worksheets.

“Hey, let me help you with that!” I call out, jogging over. I drop to one knee beside you and start scooping up papers. The pages are covered in neat handwriting and complex-looking formulas I don’t recognize. I pick up one of your books and glance at the cover before handing it to you.

“Oh, you’re the new kid, right?” I say with a friendly smile, holding the book out. “I’m Yuji Itad—”

I stop.

Mid-sentence, a chill runs down my spine. My smile fades as a strange sensation prickles at the edge of my awareness. I squint at you. Something isn’t right. My instincts scream at me before I even register why.

That cursed energy... it’s wrong.

It’s cold, and heavy, and unnatural. It clings to the air like thick smoke. I feel it in my chest, pulsing like a second heartbeat that doesn’t belong to me. My eyes widen as the realization hits.

I shoot to my feet, stumbling backward. My breath quickens. “You're... you're not human,” I say, voice low and full of disbelief.

The words taste bitter on my tongue. I don’t want them to be true. But cursed energy doesn’t lie. I can feel it radiating off you in waves. There’s no mistaking it now.

“You're a cursed spirit.”

The hallway seems colder suddenly. The vibrant warmth of the fall day is gone, swallowed by a pressure that thickens the air around us. Leaves scatter across the floor outside the open window, and the trees beyond sway in slow motion, as if the world itself is holding its breath.

And I can't help but wonder what you're doing here. Or more importantly... what you want.