Chapter 9 : The Ring and the Cat

The classroom buzzed with morning chatter, sunlight spilling across polished desks like it was trying to erase the chaos of yesterday.

But my mind was still elsewhere.

The voice.

The cat.

The photo.

Satoshi slouched into his seat beside me, letting out a dramatic sigh as he dropped his bag. "Ugh… We still have to write those apology letters after school, don't we?"

I nodded. "Yep. Try not to write an essay about how you regret being born or something."

He smirked. "What, no creative freedom?"

I rolled my eyes, glancing out the window. The sky was a perfect blue—too peaceful, like it had no idea what kind of weirdness had brushed against my reality.

"You actually finished your homework?" he asked, nudging my arm.

"Yeah. Barely."

He laughed under his breath and leaned back. "I still can't believe all three of us showed up late with toast in our mouths. That was... legendary."

"Legendary in a 'we're totally doomed' kind of way."

And just like that, the day carried on—normal on the surface, weird underneath.

Before I knew it, the sun had shifted across the sky, casting a warm glow on the classroom walls.

Final period.

The teacher's voice faded into background noise as I rested my chin on my palm, staring blankly ahead.

Just one more class, then I'll head back to that place.

I needed to investigate more about those whispers. That was the plan—until the teacher casually announced we'd be having club activities today.

Great. If this keeps up, I'll never figure out what's going on.

Satoshi leaned over. "By the way, which club are you in leader?"

"Literature Club," I replied.

I joined it because it had fewer members… and it's quiet. Peaceful.

"Ohh… I'm gonna join the Literature Club too then," Satoshi said casually.

"Wait, weren't you going to join the soccer team?"

"Well, yeah, but only because they were pressuring me into it. Officially, I haven't joined any club yet. I'll be choosing today."

He stretched his arms with a yawn. "Besides, soccer requires dedication and effort—and I have neither."

If he joins our club… my peaceful days are numbered.

Satoshi's basically a celebrity. If he joins, everyone will want to sneak in too. Though, since it's the final year, no one can switch clubs now… Still, his presence alone might drag some unwanted attention.

Sigh. Goodbye, quiet life.

We headed to the staff office to sort out his club paperwork.

"Who's the club president?" he asked. "And how many members do you have?"

"There are four of us now, including you," I said.

"Wait, just four? Isn't that too few?"

"Yeah, last year we had more. But this year, no new members joined, and registration's already closed. Guess the club's future depends on the next batch."

"We could still try to make it memorable before we graduate," he said.

"Sure… if we survive the popularity bomb you're about to drop."

He laughed. "So, who's the president? And who is the other member?"

"I… actually forgot her name," I admitted.

Yeah, I'm bad with names.

"She's a girl. Kinda quiet. Always reading."

Just then, Misaki suddenly joined the conversation.

"It's Ayame Kurose, you blockhead. And she's not just 'a girl,' she's our club president—very kind and really pretty, too!"

"Yeah, she's a total bookworm," I added without thinking.

"Hey! Don't make it sound weird," Misaki protested. "She just loves books."

"She sounds interesting," Satoshi said. "Can't wait to meet her."

The Literature Club was tucked away in a peaceful corner of the school—far from the usual crowd. I liked it, that place.

We arrived at the clubroom. Ayame Kurose was already there, legs crossed, a book resting in her lap. She didn't even glance at us as we entered.

"You're late," she said flatly, eyes still scanning the page.

Satoshi raised an eyebrow. "Not even a 'hello'? Bit cold for a club president, don't you think?"

She finally looked up, and for a moment, her expression softened.

"Oh, you're… Satoshi, right?"

"You know me?" he asked, a little surprised.

"After all, you had that whole Circle ceremony a few days ago. Pretty hard to miss."

"What are you doing here?" she added.

"He's our newest recruit," Misaki announced proudly.

Ayame tilted her head slightly, closing her book. "Welcome. But I don't think this club will suit a pretty boy like you. It's quiet, and we don't do much. No glamor. No spotlights."

"I'm not looking for attention," Satoshi replied with a calm smile. "Just want a quiet place to hang out. Maybe read a little."

Her lips twitched. Not quite a smile, but close. "Alright then. Let's start with our next club activity discussion."

"Actually," I cut in, "we've got something to do first. We were late this morning, so we need to write apology letters. Won't take long."

"All of you?" she asked, one eyebrow raised. "What a lovely coincidence."

"Yeah… funny how that happened," I muttered.

We spent most of the period writing apology letters. Time slipped away like sand through fingers, and before we knew it, the sun dipped low outside the windows.

"Guess we'll have to continue tomorrow," Ayame said, stacking her books neatly.

"But tomorrow's the weekend," I pointed out.

"Exactly. We'll meet at Misaki's house," she declared.

Misaki nearly choked on air. "Wait, why my house?!"

Ayame shrugged. "I don't want to go to a boy's room. And if we do it at my place, my siblings will throw a tea party on our heads. Your place is the safest bet."

"Ugh… fine," Misaki sighed. "I'll text you guys the address."

As we packed up, Satoshi turned to Ayame.

"Hey, do you come here every day?"

"Pretty much."

"Even when no one else shows up?"

"But company's okay too... sometimes." she replied.

"That's… actually pretty cool. You seem serious about this club."

Ayame blinked, a little surprised, then smiled—just a little. "I guess I am."

"Alright, I'm heading out first," I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

Misaki squinted suspiciously. "In a hurry? Got a secret girlfriend or something?"

"Nothing like that. There's a new anime airing tonight. Gotta catch it live," I lied smoothly.

"You're such an otaku," she said, still squinting. "You sure that's the reason?"

"Yes, that's totally the reason," I replied quickly.

Misaki stared at me.

Satoshi stared at me.

Even Ayame gave me a side glance.

Okay, okay. It's not the anime. But come on, who actually tells their classmates, "Hey, I'm going back to the haunted building to chase whispers"? Yeah. That's what I thought.

And somehow managed to leave without further questions.

Instead of heading home, I went straight back to the abandoned building.

It was getting dark. I didn't have much time.

I pulled out my phone and studied the photo again—the one with the cat and that strange shiny object.

After some searching, I found the exact spot. But the shiny thing was gone.

Did someone take it?

No. No one ever comes here.

Maybe the cat moved it?

I searched around and eventually spotted something half-buried under debris.

A black ring—simple, yet oddly beautiful. Its surface is shimmered, and it had a faint star shape on it.

But the second I touched it—

A chill shot up my arm.

The metal was cold, almost unnaturally so.

I picked it up, holding it closer.

And that's when I heard it.

A whisper.

Soft. Right next to my ear, even though no one was there.

"Only you can help us…"

I froze.

No footsteps. No wind. Just that voice—small, sad, and too clear to ignore.

I glanced around. Empty.

I slipped the ring into my pocket before I could start freaking out properly.

What even was this?

This ring… it must be connected to the whispers.

I slipped it into my pocket and continued searching the building, but found nothing else unusual.

As night fell, I decided to leave and took a few photos for further investigation at home.

As I stepped outside, I saw her again.

The black cat, same calm, bright blue eyes.

She was sitting by the door, like she'd been waiting.

I stopped.

She stood up.

I walked.

She followed.

I turned around. "Are you stalking me now?"

She didn't answer, obviously. Just stared up at me with this look that made me feel like I was the one being studied.

I slowly approached it. It didn't run—just stared at me with those calm, glassy eyes.

I knelt down and stroked its fur. Soft. Too soft for a stray. It didn't flinch. Didn't resist.

There was something about her. Not just the eyes—but the way she looked at me. Like she already knew who I was.

So I decided to take the cat with me.

"Guess you're coming with me," I muttered.

Carrying her home was easy. Explaining her to my parents? Not so much.

Lots of questions. A few threats. One lecture.

But after some convincing—and promising I'd feed her, clean up after her, and take full responsibility—they gave in.

I set her down in my room. She immediately jumped onto my bed and curled up like she owned the place.

I didn't have a name for her yet.

But something told me she wasn't just a random stray cat.

And somehow, I knew—

She was connected to all of this.