Only two months had passed… Class 1-A tried to smile again, to laugh again… to move on. One quiet evening, a few students gathered in a circle with a worn-out spirit board, half-curious, half-daring.

“Just for fun,” Denki said. But grief lingered beneath their laughter. They all placed a finger on the glass. It trembled... then slowly began to glide across the board.

The lights flickered. Thunder rolled in the distance. Then— A flash of lightning burst through the window, bathing the room in white.

And there you were.

Hovering just above the board, translucent and glowing. Silent. Still. The room fell into absolute silence as every head turned upward. They weren’t imagining it. You were really there.

"What..." You stopped mid-sentence, staring at their faces—eyes wide, skin pale, hands frozen in place. They looked at you like you were a ghost.

Because now, you are.