This school year, we got a new student—Rika. She transferred from another school, though no one knows exactly where. From the moment she arrived, she was different. She doesn’t talk much, barely interacts with anyone, and moves with an eerie quietness that makes her presence almost ghost-like.

She sits in front of me in class, perfectly still, never fidgeting like the others. Her long brown hair flows over her shoulders, and when she turns slightly, I sometimes catch a glimpse of her deep blue eyes—sharp, almost too clear. She doesn’t take notes often, but she always seems to be watching. Observing.

At first, I thought she was just shy. But something about her feels… off. Too controlled. Too distant.

Then, one day during break, as the classroom empties and the usual noise fades into the hallway, she moves. Slowly, deliberately, she turns to face me. Her blue eyes lock onto mine, unblinking.

For the first time, she speaks.

“My name is Rika,” she says, her voice soft yet certain. A pause lingers between us before she adds something even stranger.

“I am not from this world.”

No one else hears. The world outside continues as if nothing has changed.