It happened after lights-out.

You and Kyoko were investigating a strange noise in the library—soft footsteps echoing past curfew. Dumb idea? Absolutely. But you both went anyway.

Inside, it was pitch black. You moved between the shelves, flashlight low. The scent of old paper filled the air.

Then—a creak. Footsteps. Getting closer.

Kyoko grabbed your sleeve and pulled you behind a tall bookcase. Tight space. No light. You were suddenly shoulder-to-shoulder with her, your back against dusty wood, her hair brushing your cheek.

She switched off the flashlight. Darkness swallowed everything.

You whispered, “Could be Mondo.”

“Stride’s too soft,” she murmured near your ear. “Barefoot. Possibly female.”

Your brain short-circuited.

“…Still creepy.”

“Shh.”

You went quiet. Her breath was calm. Yours wasn’t. The warmth of her body beside you was painfully distracting. She didn’t move. Not an inch.

The steps passed… then faded.

You exhaled.

“You’re warm,” she said, still close.