The world had changed.
The halls of Seika High no longer echoed with whispers. No more cold air curled from the cracks of hidden doors. No more strange shadows drifted in the corners of students' eyes. The forbidden wing had collapsed entirely — buried beneath layers of concrete and memory.
The curse was gone.
But its echoes remained.
Kaito Yukimura stood atop the school's rooftop, staring out at the rising sun. His hand brushed the scar along his wrist — faint now, almost invisible, but still there. A reminder of where he'd been… and what he could have become.
He wasn't alone anymore.
But he wasn't the same either.
Behind him, Airi approached. Her hair blew softly in the wind, her eyes gentle but sharp — like someone who had seen things no one her age should have ever seen.
"Kaito," she said softly. "They're waiting downstairs. The others."
He turned slightly, smiling. "Give me a minute?"
She nodded.
But didn't leave.
Instead, she stepped beside him, silently taking his hand. They stood like that for a while, letting the golden morning warm their bruised hearts.
"They don't remember, do they?" Kaito asked.
Airi shook her head. "Not the other students. Not the teachers. It's like none of it ever happened."
Kaito exhaled. "Feels wrong."
"They weren't meant to carry it," she replied. "You were."
He looked at her. "And you?"
She smiled faintly. "I chose to."
The reunion had been quiet.
No cheering crowds, no dramatic rescue team.
Just seven friends — bruised, broken, but together — stumbling out of the wreckage and into a world that had forgotten their pain.
Haru had tried to crack jokes to lighten the mood.
Sora had cried quietly behind a book.
Yui punched a wall out of frustration, then hugged everyone.
Sota played a soft tune on a leaf — the only instrument around.
Megumi drew their faces in charcoal, tears staining the paper.
Takashi just said, "It's over."
But was it?
As they returned to their lives, they all noticed strange things.
A diary page missing. A photo blurred. A whisper that only came at night.
No one dared talk about it out loud, but they knew — a piece of the shadow remained.
Inside them.
Inside Kaito, most of all.
Weeks passed.
Seika High moved on.
But Kaito couldn't.
He was walking home one evening, alone beneath a bruised purple sky, when he saw the door.
An old janitor closet, one he'd passed a hundred times.
Except this time… it was open.
Inside was a mirror.
Not a large one — just shoulder-height, smudged at the corners, like it had survived a fire.
Kaito stepped closer.
At first, his reflection stared back.
But then it tilted its head — while Kaito did not.
A chill slid down his spine.
"I ended you,"