[Chapter 4]:"24 Souls, 27 Shadows"

Bix pretended to return to Room 37 like the others. He stood in the doorway, waited for the hallway to grow quiet, then gently shut the door — without stepping inside.

Everyone else had gone to bed. Lights clicked off one by one. Silence fell over the third floor.

Instead of sleeping, Bix crept back down to the dim lobby. The soft hum of the ceiling fan and distant sea wind filled the air.

Behind the reception counter, the young woman was half-asleep, head tilted, scrolling absently through her phone.

He approached slowly.

"Shouldn't you be scared? Being here alone?" he asked.

She blinked up, startled. "Scared? No. There's a security guy, just… he had some personal stuff tonight. And anyway—" she pointed to the wall behind her, "—we have an emergency lockdown button. Press it, and every door seals. No one gets in or out."

Bix raised an eyebrow.

"Mind if I sit here and… just watch the CCTV for a bit?"

She hesitated. "Sorry, sir. That's not for guests."

He pulled a few folded notes from his pocket and set them gently on the counter.

She glanced at the cash — then sighed and turned the screen toward him.

---

Hours passed.

The CCTV footage showed nothing unusual. Guests asleep in rooms. Corridors empty. No shadows, no movement. Bix fought off sleep beside her, tapping his fingers on the edge of the desk.

The clock struck 6:00 a.m.

A small alarm beeped — the daily system check.

Bix looked over. The receptionist had finally dozed off in her chair. He smiled faintly in relief.

But then — a loud, shrieking alarm split the air.

RED LIGHTS flared along the corridors. Sirens echoed through the building.

Emergency breach.

Doors burst open. Footsteps thundered down the stairs. Guests in nightclothes emerged, wide-eyed and panicked.

The receptionist jolted awake. She jumped from her chair and ran to the small manager's room opposite the counter. Inside, she punched a few buttons — the sirens died, but the lights remained red.

"What the hell was that?" Bix asked, heart racing.

She looked around, still breathing heavily. "The emergency alarm… it only goes off when someone tries to enter the building forcibly. Through any external door."

The guests murmured among themselves.

Bix walked over to the front door — the one facing the parking lot and shoreline

It was slowly closing… by itself.

He looked at the lock.

It was bolted from the inside.

He turned to the receptionist.

"This door was locked?"

"Yes. Always locked from midnight. It needs a keycard."

"Then how did it open?"

She stared at him.

"I don't know."

A wave of silence passed between them.

Someone had come in.

Or worse — someone had left.

As the hotel buzzed with frightened guests and red corridor lights, Bix slipped out quietly into the morning mist.

The sun was rising, painting the horizon gold. But the beauty couldn't soothe the weight in his chest.

Then — he saw them.

Footprints.

Faint, scattered along the dirt path outside the hotel. Going out. Heading away. Barefoot.

They didn't belong to any of the guests. No shoes. No slippers.

Just skin.

A chill wrapped around his spine. Still, he followed.

The prints curved down the slope, across the gravel, through soft sand. They led to the sea.

And there — they stopped.

As if the person had walked straight into the water and vanished.

Bix stared at the crashing waves, heart pounding. His mind flashed back to Goto's torn mouth. The glistening teeth. The sound of flesh peeling.

He turned and ran back to the hotel.

---

Inside, the lobby was nearly empty now.

Only Hiroshima and the receptionist remained.

She looked shaken. Hiroshima stood by the glass doors, arms crossed.

"There you are," he said, waving. "Come on. Let's get breakfast."

"I… I don't feel like eating," Bix muttered.

"Just come," Hiroshima insisted. "Goto's place is open."

Bix didn't respond — just followed, dread pressing down on him like fog.

---

They reached the familiar restaurant.

But Bix froze.

That wasn't Goto.

The smile was wrong. The eye posture too straight. Goto always greet with left after right arm injury.

Still, the man welcomed them warmly. Hiroshima greeted him as if nothing was wrong.

Bix sat stiffly.

Then the man — the thing — put his right hand on Bix's shoulder.

Instantly, Bix's memories flooded back — the beast on the beach, the rotting skin, the unnatural smile.

His stomach turned.

He staggered out and vomited onto the stone path.

Everything spun.

And then — black.

---

When he opened his eyes again, he wasn't at the restaurant.

He lay on a thin mat, in a strange, dim room.

A slow ceiling fan buzzed overhead, blades moving like molasses.

The air smelled of dust and seawater.

He tried to move — but couldn't.

His shadow was moving.

Something, stretching his shadows from beneath him. Feeding off his body. His limbs felt heavy. His breath grew shallow.

He watched, horrified, as the shadow slithered upward toward his chest.

He opened his mouth — but couldn't scream.

Then—SLAM!

The door burst open.

"HOLY SHIT—" Hiroshima charged in, eyes wide, I had some noise.

He rushed to Bix, grabbed his shoulders.

"Wake up! What's happening, man?! You're pacing out! You went still like a corpse!"

Bix blinked. Sweat poured from his forehead.

He gasped, choking on air.

"You okay?" Hiroshima whispered.

Bix's voice was cracked. "The shadow… it… it was eating me…"

"You need to talk," Hiroshima said. "Now."

Bix told him everything. The beach. The monster. The restaurant. The shadow. The memory lapses. Miyuri. Room 135. The missing past.

When he finished, Hiroshima just stared at him.

"I don't know what to say," he finally whispered. "It sounds insane."

"I know."

"But your face…" Hiroshima paused. "You're not lying. I don't want to believe you. But I can't ignore it."

Then Hiroshima's phone buzzed. A short message flashed on screen.

He read it, frowned — then stood.

"Come on. We're leaving. Right now."

---

They stepped out of the room. Goto appeared by the stairwell.

"Hey, boys. Where you going so early? Breakfast's not done."

His tone was too smooth.

Hiroshima kept walking. "Rain check. We've got a call."

Goto's smile twitched. "You sure? The tea's fresh."

Bix's hand gripped Hiroshima's jacket tightly.

"Thanks," Hiroshima replied flatly. "We're good."

The two walked fast.

Goto didn't follow.

---

They took a long, silent walk to the hotel on the New Port side.

Inside, a crowd waited.

Their old classmates.

Mira, Bix's childhood friend from the orphanage, spotted him first. "You made it," she said, softly.

The lobby was full now.

Twenty-four students. All from their class at Kobashi School.

Orphans, like Bix.

And beside them — a familiar older woman in glasses.

Their former homeroom teacher.

"We're almost complete," the teacher said, smiling faintly.

"Twenty-four out of twenty-seven," Hiroshima muttered under his breath. "All here."

The hotel wasn't luxurious—its plastered walls were cracked at the corners and the windows rattled with wind—but it was alive. Alive with voices, laughter, and the kind of chaos only childhood bonds could cause.

Bix and Hiroshima stepped into the lounge area. Warm lights buzzed overhead. A some familiar faces turned toward them.

"Bix?"

"Holy hell, it's really him!"

A rush followed, overlapping voices echoing like ghosts from school corridors. Old friends—now taller, tired, a little haunted—stood before him. And amidst them, one woman stood out.

"Children," a soft voice called. "Let's keep it calm."

It was Ms. Kiyomi, their former homeroom teacher. Her hair had gone streaked with gray, but her posture was still straight, proud. She wore a long green cardigan over a simple blouse, the same gentle smile on her lips from all those years ago.

"Please sit," she gestured toward the circle of sofas. "Let's talk properly."

Bix felt surreal as he sat beside Hiroshima. The others gathered too—

Yuji, now bulkier with a scar on his chin,

Meiko, scribbling in her notebook even now,

Tama, grinning with a missing front tooth like he was still thirteen,

and others he hadn't seen in years:

Tento, arms crossed, eyes sharp, clearly more serious than before,

Miyuri, quieter than he remembered, her hair cropped short,

Ayan, fidgeting with a phone he probably couldn't get signal on,

Tom, legs up on the table like he owned the room,

Sakura, leaning against the wall with earphones hanging loose,

and Kiara, pacing slowly near the curtains, constantly looking outside.

"So, you two made it back," Yuji said, eyes serious. "We weren't sure if any more would come."

"Yeah," Meiko added, looking over her glasses. "They said Kobashi was cursed. That anyone who returned would vanish."

"But here we are," Tama shrugged. "Either we're stupid or brave."

Ms. Kiyomi cleared her throat. "Do any of you remember that night... before the school closed down?"

Silence.

A tension settled like mist.

Yuji's expression darkened. "We remember."

"We were just kids," Meiko said, softer. "We couldn't have understood then."

"They made us forget," Tama muttered. "Or tried to."

"No one talks about the East Mountain anymore," Tento said in a low voice. "But some of us—some of us still dream about it."

Bix glanced at Miyuri. Her lips were pressed tightly. He noticed her hand shaking slightly before she tucked it beneath her hoodie sleeve.

Ayan suddenly broke the silence, forcing a grin. "Hey, how about we don't get all spooky at once? We just reunited, right?"

Tom smirked. "Not like ghosts wait for permission."

Kiara stopped pacing. "Something's coming. I can feel it."

The teacher's eyes moved to Bix. "And you, Bix… do you remember what happened on the East Mountain?"

He opened his mouth—then paused. The memories were fractured, glimpses of blood on wood, a scream echoing between trees, a door that should've never been opened.

He nodded slowly. "Pieces. They're coming back."

There was another voice.

Soft. Calm. Steady.

"Hey."

Bix looked up.

It was Mina.

She stood near the hallway, black hair falling over her shoulder like ink on white paper. She hadn't changed much—still graceful, still quietly confident. Her dark eyes met his.

"How are you?" she asked.

He blinked. "F-Fine. I mean—yeah. I'm fine."

His voice cracked slightly. Mina gave a small nod, smiled politely, and looked as if she'd say something else. Bix wanted to. He wanted to ask how she'd been, whether she ever thought of him, what she remembered about that night.

But the words stuck in his throat.

She gave him a gentle wave before walking toward Sakura, and they began chatting by the window.

Bix let out a breath.

"Still got a crush, huh?" Hiroshima whispered beside him with a smirk.

Bix didn't reply. He just stared at the rain sliding down the glass.

The past was returning—not just through memories or monsters, but through voices, faces, and feelings he'd buried long ago.

And deep down, something told him:

Not everyone in this room would survive what came next.

Ms. Kiyomi clapped her hands softly to gather attention.

"Before anything else," she said with a warm smile, "thank you, Hiroshima, for arranging this reunion. I never thought we'd see each other again like this."

Hiroshima blinked. "Wait… I didn't arrange it."

The room fell silent.

Even Bix turned to him.

"I mean," Hiroshima added quickly, "I came because someone invited me. I thought it was... one of you."

The silence deepened.

Then, a murmur swept across the room.

"Wait, I thought Mrs did it."

"No, I got a invitation letter."

"Mine too."

Ayan looked confused. Kiara's smile faded. Miyuri stared blankly at the floor.

Everyone began glancing at each other, suspicion creeping in.

Ms. Kiyomi's smile faltered.

"So… who arranged this?" she asked.

Nobody answered.

Then suddenly—

Tom raised his hand and grinned.

"Alright, alright, fine. It was me," he laughed. "Just wanted to spook you all."

The tension broke. People groaned and sighed, a mix of annoyance and relief.

"Damn it, Tom," Sakura muttered, half-laughing.

"You idiot," Miyuri scowled, but there was a flicker of a smirk.

"Come on," Tom said. "You were all looking like someone died. I couldn't help it."

The clock struck 9:00 AM.

Ms. Kiyomi smiled again. "Alright, let's all calm down. Breakfast is ready 1st floor . Let's eat together."

The receptionist stepped into the lounge. "All arrangements are complete. Please proceed to the breakfast hall."

She added, "We have seven cooks, one guard, four waiters, and five maids—though it's still short for a hotel this size."

As everyone stood and began moving toward the dining area, a familiar figure joined them from the hallway.

Pete.

He wore a tired smile and waved casually. "Sorry I overslept."

Bix stiffened. His stomach twisted, but he kept quiet.

They ascended the spiral stairs to the upper floor where the breakfast hall waited. The aroma of fresh bread and eggs filled the air.

As the group entered, Tom pulled Hiroshima, Tento, and Mira aside near a quiet corner.

"I lied," he whispered. "I didn't invite anyone. Not a single person."

"What?" Hiroshima 's expression went cold.

"I only said it back there to ease the tension," Tom admitted. "I thought if we started panicking, someone might bolt."

Bix had followed them and was within earshot.

Tento narrowed his eyes. "Then who did?"

Tom looked at Hiroshima. "You sure it wasn't you?"

"I told you—no," Hiroshima replied.

Tento's gaze turned to Bix. "And why the hell are you even here?"

Bix flinched, but before he could answer, Hiroshima stepped forward.

"He's with me," he said firmly.

Tom and Mira nodded in agreement.

Tento still didn't look convinced.

"Listen," Hiroshima continued. "Let everyone come. All 27 students. Then we'll sort this out. For now, let's just say Tom invited us."

Everyone exchanged glances, then nodded hesitantly.

The tension eased—slightly.

They moved back toward the breakfast tables, where the others were already pouring juice and passing plates.

But just as Bix and Hiroshima were about to —

Mira suddenly stopped mid-step.

"Wait."

Everyone turned to her.

She looked around the room.

"Didn't our class have 24 students?"

A beat of silence.

Hiroshima's eyes widened. Bix looked at Tom. Tento stared at Mira.

Because she was right.

They had all grown up in the orphanage school together. Their class always had 24 students—including Bix.

Not 27.

Three extra people were to come here.

Three names no one remembered.

Receptionist broke there silence, she asked them to proceed to breakfast hall and later have chats...

The breakfast hall was filled with clinking plates and small talk—an illusion of normalcy. But Bix couldn't pretend anymore.

His eyes flickered between the laughing classmates and the three unknown faces who were laughing with them. Too naturally. Too perfectly.

His chest tightened.

"Come with me," Bix whispered to Hiroshima.

Without waiting, he left the hall. Hiroshima followed without question.

Mira asks them,"aren't they gonna join ."

Hiroshima in hurry replies that we had ours."

They returned to the room they had arrived in earlier. Bix shut the door behind them, pulled the curtains closed, and turned to face him.

"I need you to listen," Bix said. His voice was lower than before. "And believe me, because I don't think we have much time."

Hiroshima nodded slowly. "Go on."

Bix stepped back, hands on his head, pacing slightly. "Something's wrong with Kobashi Island. Really wrong."

He began listing, his voice trembling but firm:

> "There was a monster back in class eleven. I saw it.

There's a killer—someone who's murdering and making the bodies vanish.

There's Pete… that psycho… who killed me. I swear it. He threw me into the sea—

And I woke up hours earlier.

That thing… that human-turning monster—the Goto look-alike—grabbed me.

Then a shadow tried to suck the life out of me in a strange room.

There was an invisible figure walking into the sea that left no trail.

I got a strange invitation. And now—three people who don't exist are eating breakfast with us like they've always been part of the class."

He took a deep breath. "And the worst part?"

Hiroshima looked at him, waiting.

Bix's voice was almost a whisper.

> "I think I can time leap."

Silence.

The old wooden clock ticked softly behind them.

"I don't know how, or why," Bix continued. "But I've died, Hiroshima. And I came back. Same clothes, same time, soaked from the sea. Right back to the moment I first arrived at the port."

He stared into Hiroshima's eyes.

> "We need to ask everyone to leave this cursed island. Fast. Before it takes someone else."

Hiroshima exhaled slowly, clearly shaken. "I don't know what to say… That's a lot. And terrifying."

"But you believe me," Bix said quickly.

"I do," Hiroshima nodded. "At least a part of me does. And honestly… I'm scared too."

He leaned against the wall. "But the others… it's not that easy. Some of them hate me for what happened with Pete. Some have forgotten everything. And some just don't care. Do you think they'll believe all this? That monsters are real? That you died and came back?"

Bix stood there silently.

Then asked quietly, "Then what do we do?"

After breakfast, the hotel staff rolled out a tray of soft-serve ice cream, bowls already half-melted from the warmth.

Most students took theirs with delight. Laughter and teasing resumed like old times.

Sakura, however, hesitated.

She politely declined, but her friend — a cheerful girl named Rina — nudged her playfully.

"Oh come on, don't be boring! Just a spoon or two!"

Reluctantly, Sakura took the small bowl.

As soon as the icy cream touched her tongue, she froze.

Her face turned pale.

Then suddenly, she stood up, hand over her mouth, and bolted from the dining hall.

A few students laughed awkwardly. Tom leaned back in his chair.

"She probably hated the flavor. Or she's pregnant."

"Tom!" Ms. Kiyomi snapped.

Still, the moment passed. The rest of the class tried to shake off the odd incident.

---

By late morning, with the sun peeking briefly through dark clouds, someone suggested:

> "Why don't we go trekking in the mountains? For old times' sake."

Surprisingly, most agreed.

It was Ayan who asked, "Hey… What about the last three classmates who didn't show up?"

"Let's send them a message in the old group chat," Meiko said, already typing.

---

A local 30-seater bus was booked. It arrived an hour later, honking loudly outside the hotel.

The driver was a round man with oil-slicked hair, a dirty uniform, and a wide grin that curled unnaturally. His eyes scanned the group too slowly.

"You kids all goin' into the woods, huh?" he snorted. "Don't get eaten by wild girls!"

Nobody laughed.

Still, they boarded, loaded with borrowed camping gear — tents, sleeping bags, even flashlights none of them remembered buying.

---

By 1:00 PM, the bus climbed broken slope roads toward the East Mountain. Trees pressed in, and the wheels bumped violently over cracked concrete. The Heavy Rain began just as they entered the dense forest line — a steady pattering at first, then roaring sheets of water slamming the windows.

Bix sat beside Hiroshima, staring out nervously.

The road turned sharply left, a blind curve.

Suddenly —

SCREEEEEECH—

The bus skidded violently, smashing through a metal roadside barrier, its tires screaming over loose gravel.

Then:

CRASH.

The world spun. Trees shattered like sticks. Bags flew. Screams.

Then silence.

---

When Bix opened his eyes, he was lying across a pile of soaked backpacks. Screams and groans rose around him, but miraculously—no one was seriously injured.

Only bruises, scrapes, and sprained ankles.

It took an hour in the pouring rain to pull everyone out. The bus was totaled, sunken into the slope like a dead animal. The perverted driver had vanished.

"No signal," Kiara confirmed, holding up her cracked phone.

"That's not good," Meiko muttered.

---

Ms. Kiyomi stepped forward, suddenly confident.

"I know this area. There's an old estate just through the trees. We'll rest there until help arrives."

Reluctantly, the soaked group followed her deeper into the woods.

As they walked, Bix whispered to Hiroshima:

> "I didn't see any house from above the hill… I swear there was nothing there."

"Could just be the rain," Hiroshima replied.

But Bix's gut twisted. The same gut that had warned him of the Goto monster. Of Pete. Of the unknown students.

---

Soon, the group reached a clearing.

And just as Kiyomi said — an old house stood silently among the trees.

Three floors. Stone base. Moss crawling over the wooden walls. Broken windowpanes.

But a roof, nonetheless. Shelter.

Everyone cheered.

They rushed forward through the storm.

Except Bix and Hiroshima.

They moved slower, eyes scanning the empty woods behind them. Something about this didn't feel right.

They arrived at the door last.

As they entered, they saw someone standing stiff near the entrance:

Tento.

Soaking wet. Not moving.

"Hey, let us through," Hiroshima grumbled, and pushed him aside.

Tento fell.

Face-first onto the rotting wooden floor.

"Dude, what the hell—?" Hiroshima paused.

Bix screamed.

Tento's chest had been torn open.

Where his heart should have been… was only a hollow, bleeding void.

---

To be continued...