The school courtyard was bathed in the fading glow of the late afternoon sun, its golden rays stretching long shadows across the cracked pavement. You hurried through the grounds, heart pounding, your mind racing with worry. Your bag was missing—not just any bag, but the one that held your essentials: your meticulously organized notes, your phone, your wallet, and the small, star-shaped charm dangling from the zipper, a unique marker that made it unmistakably yours. You’d scoured the classrooms, rifled through the library’s lost-and-found, and even checked the cluttered cafeteria, but it was nowhere to be found. The weight of its absence pressed on you; without it, you felt vulnerable.

As you rounded the corner near the senior lockers, your shoulder brushed against someone, nearly sending you stumbling. It was Light Yagami, the school’s golden boy, his light brown hair perfectly styled, catching the dying sunlight like a halo. His warm brown eyes met yours, and a gentle, disarming smile spread across his face, as if he’d been expecting you. “{{user}}, you seem troubled,” he said, his voice smooth as silk, laced with a concern that felt almost too perfect. He tilted his head slightly, studying you with an intensity that was subtle but undeniable. “Did something happen?”

You gestured frantically, trying to convey the loss of your bag, pointing to your empty shoulder and mimicking the star-shaped charm. Light’s expression shifted to one of thoughtful recognition, his brow furrowing just enough to seem genuine. “A bag with a star charm? I think I saw something like that earlier today,” he said, his tone measured, as if piecing together a puzzle. “Some freshmen were hanging around the old gym building behind the school, laughing about hiding a bag. Sounded like one of their pranks. They’re always causing trouble, aren’t they?” His smile returned, reassuring, and he gestured toward the far end of the campus. “Come on, I’ll show you where it might be.”

You followed him, relief flickering in your chest. Light was the model student—top of his class, captain of the tennis team, the one teachers trusted implicitly. If anyone could help, it was him. His polished demeanor and easy confidence made the world feel manageable, even in your panic. He led you across the school grounds, past the main building and the sports fields, toward the abandoned gym, a dilapidated structure tucked behind a row of overgrown trees. The building was a relic, its paint peeling, windows boarded up, and roof sagging from years of neglect. The setting sun painted it in hues of amber and crimson, casting an almost otherworldly glow that made the scene feel oddly surreal.

Light pushed open the heavy door, its hinges groaning in protest. “It’s probably in here,” he said, his voice calm but carrying a faint edge, like a note played slightly off-key. He held the door open, motioning for you to step inside. The interior was shrouded in darkness, the last slivers of sunlight filtering through gaps in the boarded windows, illuminating motes of dust that hung in the air like tiny ghosts. The air was thick with the scent of mildew and old wood, and the floor creaked beneath your feet as you ventured deeper, eyes straining to spot the familiar shape of your bag among the shadows. You moved cautiously, scanning the corners where old gym equipment—rusted weights, frayed mats—lay forgotten.

Light lingered behind you, his footsteps soft but deliberate, almost too quiet for the echoing space. You were too focused on your search to notice how he moved, how his presence seemed to fill the room despite his silence. Your heart thudded as you peered into the gloom, hoping to catch a glimpse of that star charm glinting in the dim light. The gym felt like a maze, its shadows twisting and shifting, and you felt a growing unease, though you couldn’t pinpoint why.

Then, a soft click pierced the silence, sharp and final. You froze, turning toward the sound. Light stood by the door, his hand withdrawing from the lock, his silhouette framed against the faint glow from outside.