The Mannequin's Midnight Stroll

Evey had set a new personal record: breaking dormitory rules two nights in a row.

Tonight's offense was no trivial matter.

Entering a restricted area—after lights-out, no less.

The Memorial Hall at Royal High School was an old, decommissioned school building repurposed to display the academy's history.

Calling it a history museum sounded respectable, but in truth it was little more than a graveyard for forgotten relics no one cared to visit.

Portraits of former headmasters, old graduation albums, trophies from Latin oratory contests, the original sheet music for the school anthem—things like that.

Among them, the most infamous was a mannequin dressed in the vintage school uniform.

Famous for what, exactly?

The ghost stories, of course. Every school has them.

This particular tale went like this:

Back when the old building was being converted into the Memorial Hall, Headmaster A from that era commissioned a mannequin wearing the old-style uniform from his own school days.

He ordered something very specific—one that perfectly replicated the girl he'd once loved from afar.

It was as if he'd brought his tragic first love back to campus. She'd died of illness while still a student, and now she stood there in mannequin form.

They said the dead girl's soul had taken up residence inside it, and on late nights it would walk slowly through the Memorial Hall.

Its steps always stopped in the same place: in front of the portrait of the now-deceased Headmaster A.

After hearing the story, Evey had thought, This has to be a fake ghost story. Not that any ghost stories were real, of course.

If the actual soul of a young girl were trapped in there, why on earth would she stare at some old classmate's portrait?

Even ghosts must have taste. If you're going to look at something, you'd obviously prefer something pretty.

Yes. So the whole tale was nothing more than a mean-spirited prank someone had cooked up for fun.

There was no reason to be scared of a silly prank. Besides, Evey was the princess who carried every honor this kingdom had to offer.

Even if—for the sake of a hundred wild concessions—the pitiful girl's ghost had the terrible hobby of gazing at an elderly classmate's face, to Evey that would simply mean it owed her reverence.

Therefore...

"Hah! I'm not scared at all!"

Evey spoke the words aloud on purpose.

Because she was currently walking straight toward that mannequin.

To reach the sealed entrance beyond the Memorial Hall, she had no choice but to cross the first-floor corridor.

There was an outdoor route, but it had no streetlights, making it both terrifying and dangerous.

So she'd chosen the shortcut through the corridor instead, all while maintaining her mental victory that ghost stories were nothing to fear.

This isn't working. I'm definitely still scared.

Evey clutched her phone tightly and broke into a run. If the mannequin so much as moved toward her, she would call Secretary Owen and demand he come rescue her by helicopter.

Owen would get here in ten seconds flat, right? If not, I'll fire him for real.

After forcing herself through a string of useless jokes to fight off the fear, she finally made it out of the corridor.

A cold wind brushed across Evey's cheeks. Having been swallowed by distant terror only moments ago, even the sharp bite of the wind felt strangely welcome.

She pulled her coat tighter and took cautious steps toward the old iron gate blocked off with chains.

What Tiffany had implied was crystal clear. Joy was using this spot to slip on and off campus.

That was an infraction that would be punished far more severely than any ordinary school disturbance.

Otherwise every student would start thinking they could just sneak out whenever they wanted.

Evey leaned back against the red brick wall. Luckily a small overhang offered at least a little protection from the wind.

She didn't know how long she'd been standing there. Her toes had gone from cold to completely numb, and she had just started wondering whether Tiffany had tricked her when—

The low rumble of an engine drifted from the distance, growing rapidly closer. Evey pressed herself tighter against the wall.

She peeked out just enough to see through the gap in the iron gate. A headlight sliced through the deep darkness, and a motorcycle came to a stop right in front of the gate.

The man in the driver's seat stood and offered his hand to the girl riding behind him, helping her dismount with obvious care.

The girl who climbed off removed her helmet with practiced ease and gave her head a light shake. Even in the dark of night, her long, straight hair spilled down like liquid light.

It was Joy.

"Tomorrow. Same time," Joy said, handing the helmet back to the man in a curt voice.

"T-tomorrow too?"

"Yeah. Got a problem with that?"

When Joy snapped at him, the man hung his head. He looked too terrified of her to speak properly.

"...Understood."

"I told you to fix how you talk to me!"

"No, it's just that..."

"Forget it. Just go. Talking to you is annoying."

The man mumbled something else, got scolded one more time, then rode off on the motorcycle.

As the single source of light disappeared into the distance, darkness swallowed the area again.

There wasn't even moonlight. The iron gate right in front of her was barely visible as a faint outline.

"Ugh."

From beyond the firmly shut gate came the faint sound of Joy exerting effort. She was clearly climbing over the iron bars and chains to get back inside.

It was no easy height, yet she moved without the slightest hesitation. This was obviously not her first or second time.

Thud.

The sound of shoes hitting the ground soon followed.

Evey shrank deeper into the shadow of the bricks. She had no desire to be caught red-handed while secretly spying.

Tock.

But as she backed up, her foot caught on something and she stumbled.

She looked down. A glass bottle. After being kicked over by her foot, it began rolling freely across the ground.

Evey prayed the rough surface would create enough friction to stop it.

Her prayer went unanswered. The bottle demonstrated the stubbornness of inertia and rolled straight to Joy's feet.

"......"

Evey's eyes followed the bottle's path upward from the polished shoes.

The moment her gaze met Joy's face—

She suddenly felt incredibly stupid for being afraid of a mannequin ghost just minutes earlier.

She had forgotten the universal truth that living people are always scarier. The expression on Joy's face as she spotted Evey proved it perfectly.

A chill raced down Evey's spine.

What should she say?

Joy slowly picked up the bottle and began walking toward her.

In those few short seconds, Evey ran through countless possible responses.

Should she bow her head and apologize? Or clasp both hands together and beg?

Joy stopped right in front of her, glanced at Evey's trembling lips, and let out a cold laugh.

"What? Can't decide what to threaten me with first?"

"Huh?"

Evey blinked, momentarily wearing the same blank expression she made when an answer key contained a bizarre solution.

Threaten?

She knew what the word meant.

The issue was that in Evey's entire life, the concept had never once existed as a viable option.

"......?"

Evey's reaction must have been completely unexpected, because now even Joy looked confused.

If you weren't planning to threaten me, why are you here? her expression seemed to ask.

"I only came to confirm something."

"Really? How nice for you. You've gained a convenient card to play. So, how exactly are you planning to use it?"

"I have no intention of using it, Carter."

Joy crossed her arms, her eyes sharpening even further.

"You expect me to believe that? It's only natural you'd hold a grudge against me."

"No, I—"

"But would dragging me down really change your own reputation? Oh, I see. You're going for mutual destruction?"

Joy kept firing off words without pause, leaving Evey no room to respond.

Actually, it wasn't entirely because of Joy.

Something... strange had appeared. Beyond Joy's shoulder.

"Th-that..."

When Evey's face turned deathly pale and her lips began to quiver, Joy sensed something was wrong and snapped irritably.

"What is it now? Another one of your schemes?"

"Th-the..."

Evey stuttered, pointing a trembling finger behind Joy—toward the old school building that housed the Memorial Hall.

Something in the deep darkness was wriggling, slowly making its way toward them.

At this hour, from that dilapidated building, there was only one thing it could possibly be.

"M-ma... nequin."

The moment the words left her mouth, all the color drained from Joy's face as well. So she knew the ghost story too.

Evey grabbed Joy's wrist before she could turn around.

"Don't look back!"

She'd read it in a book as a child (before the nanny quickly confiscated it) that making eye contact with a ghost was never a good idea.

Evey yanked Joy's wrist and started running.

Oh my god, why did it come outside instead of just staring at that old headmaster's portrait like it was supposed to?!