"Have you thought about it? Everyone is dead because of you."

Classroom 1.

The hum of the ceiling fan and the faint scratching of pens against paper filled the room. Yet, something was different. Every student and the teacher standing at the front had their heads turned toward the young man sitting in the very back.

They spoke in unison, voices overlapping in a disturbing mix. For a moment, the air grew colder. Their wide, unblinking eyes fixated on the young man, who continued to scribble in his notebook as if he hadn't heard a thing.

Despite their unwavering gaze, the teacher kept teaching, her hands moving as if giving a lecture. The students' hands still writing in their notebooks. But their heads remained still—staring.

"Have you thought about it? Everyone is dead because of you."

The young man kept writing in his notebook: This is all a dream… this is all a dream… He wrote it over and over as if the act of writing was the only thing tethering him to reality. He didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. Stopping would make it real

Then, the teacher moved. Smoothly, unnaturally, her gaze never wavering as she approached his desk. She stopped beside him, her blank eyes staring. Slowly, she opened her mouth.

"Cirrus! Are you listening?"

The air shifted, and the room became warmer as the sound of chattering sounded in his ears.

Cirrus let out a relieved sigh and muttered, "I'm sorry."

The teacher placed a hand on her hip and spoke calmly. "Cirrus, I don’t know what you’ve been through, but I’ve told you before—if something’s wrong, you can talk to me. I’m here."

Cirrus only nodded.

She studied him for a moment, then sighed and walked away, resuming her lesson.

Alone again, Cirrus glanced at his notebook. The words This is all a dream_had vanished as if they had never been written. His grip on the pen tightened for a brief moment before loosening.

The teacher didn’t know how badly he wanted to tell her everything. But he couldn’t. He knew what would happen if he did.

Because it had already happened before—with his therapist.

The nightmares had started months ago. He didn’t know why or how. At first, he had dismissed them as mere hallucinations caused by sleep deprivation. But the doctors had found nothing wrong with him. And the nightmares didn’t stop. They grew worse, lasting for weeks, until he had no choice but to seek help—before he lost his mind.

A few days later, his therapist was found dead in his office. The cause remained a mystery. No signs of struggle. No traces of a suspect.

Then, one day after the therapist was found dead, he appeared in the nightmares.

"Have you thought about it? Everyone is dead because of you."

That was when Cirrus realized—this wasn’t just a nightmare.

This was something _else_. Something far more bizarre.

'The nightmare keeps telling me that everyone is dead because of me... But who is ‘everyone’? My therapist? My parents?

Who... am I?'

**Ring…**

The school bell rang.

Cirrus adjusted his belongings, then turned to gaze out the window. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow over the campus. Outside, students laughed and chatted with one another, their voices light and carefree. The air was filled with youthful energy—something distant, yet painfully close.

For a moment, he wanted nothing more than to be like them.

To be normal.

To just be.

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He shook his head and stood up.

"Ah, Cirrus, right?"

A female student stood in front of him, balancing a pile of books in her arms. She had long black hair and wore glasses.

Cirrus nodded.

"Can you help me? Everyone’s already home, and I can’t carry all of these by myself." Her cheeks flushed red as she spoke.

Cirrus glanced at the books in her hands, then at the additional stack behind her. He had no idea where they had come from, but he didn’t need to know. Without a word, he nodded, picked up some of the books, and followed her.

She walked slowly beside him, stealing glances at him from time to time. It seemed like she wanted to say something but couldn’t bring herself to.

"Uh… have you read The CEO and the Red Queen?" she suddenly asked.

Cirrus was caught off guard by the question but shook his head.

'The CEO and the Red Queen? What kind of title is that? And where did that question even come from?' he thought.

She peeked at him again and quickly added, "Um, I like that book! Especially the CEO—he’s so handsome and mysterious. I like him a lot. Who’s your favorite character?!"

The last part came out in an excited shout, her face turning even redder. Realizing what she had done, she frantically waved her hands to apologize. Unfortunately, in doing so, the books slipped from her grasp and tumbled to the floor.

"I-I'm sorry!"

Cirrus sighed. He didn't understand the girl or maybe he just lacked experience with people in general. After all, this was the first time a girl had willingly talked to him.

He helped her pick up the books and asked, "Where do I put these?"

"You… you can talk?" The female student looked surprised, and then quickly waved her hands. "I-I'm sorry for being rude! This is just my first time speaking to my cru… crusade—yes, my crusader!"

She pointed toward a room beside the stairs. "The Literature Club."

Cirrus didn’t hesitate. He wanted to get this over with. He didn’t want to deal with her any longer—he just wanted to go home and rest. Without another word, he grabbed the remaining books from her hands and hurried toward the clubroom.

He noticed that she wasn’t following him.

A few seconds passed, but she didn’t step forward or try to continue the conversation.

However, he didn’t care.

After placing the books inside, he stepped out.

Then, he froze.

The female student was still standing in the same spot.

Her wide eyes were slowly losing their light, her expression blank.

Then, her lips moved.

"Have you thought about it? Everyone is dead because of you!"

"This is all a dream… this is all a dream…"

Cirrus chanted the words under his breath as he walked down the hallway. His pace was slow, deliberate. His gaze remained steady and focused.

One thing he had learned was that acknowledging them made the nightmare last longer. And sometimes, if he reacted too much, they could bleed into reality—they could hurt him.

So he moved carefully. Slowly.

He had already built the image of someone withdrawn, someone who didn’t talk or socialize. If he ignored them, the nightmare would understand.

And hopefully, it wouldn’t follow him home.

"Have you thought about it? Everyone is dead because of you!"

As Cirrus descended the stairs, it felt endless—an infinite descent into something colder, something wrong. The air grew heavy, and the voice crept closer, whispering just behind his ears.

Then, his heart skipped a beat. A sharp chill ran through him, and sweat beaded on his skin.

At the bottom of the stairs, a group of students stood waiting. They stared at him, unblinking, their mouths repeating the same words over and over.

Cirrus shoved his hand into his pocket, fingers gripping the pendant inside. He rubbed it anxiously as he whispered under his breath, "This is all a dream… this is all a dream…"

The air grew even colder, his sweat clinging to his skin as he forced himself forward. The nightmare figures didn’t move, yet their heads remained turned toward him, their voices drilling into his mind.

Then—just ahead—he saw the entrance. Warm light spilled through the doors, a promise of escape.

But just as he reached for it, a voice—one he knew far too well—whispered in his ear.

"Cirrus… how was school?"

His breath caught.

'Mother?'

Cirrus froze, his eyes widening as he turned his head—

Suddenly, the pendant in his pocket burned hot against his skin. A sharp, searing pain jolted him back to reality.

He flinched, yanking his gaze forward, and without hesitation, he stepped through the doors and out of the school.

The sun bathed him in warm, golden light. The familiar sounds of chatter returned, grounding him in reality. Cirrus kept walking, never once looking back.

"Hey, wait! Wait!"

That voice—he recognized it.

Turning around, he saw the female student from earlier. She was running toward him, drenched in sweat, her backpack bouncing with each step.

When she finally reached his side, she bent over, gasping for breath. After a moment, she looked up at him with an apologetic expression.

"I'm sorry for earlier," she said between breaths. "Honestly, this was my first time talking to someone who wasn’t already close to me. I’ve been gathering the courage to finally speak to you!"

She hesitated, then continued. "The first time I saw you holding The CEO and the Red Queen, I thought—maybe—I’d found someone who could understand me. Like a… a kindred spirit, right?"

"So I worked up the courage to talk to you… I’m sorry if I said anything weird."

'So that’s why…'

Now that he thought about it, the title did sound familiar. A few days ago in the library, he had come across _The CEO and the Red Queen_ while searching for books on ghosts and specters. He never intended to read it—he had simply placed it back in order after someone left it misplaced. That must have caused the misunderstanding.

Cirrus glanced at the female student. She was his classmate, but in truth, he didn’t know her name. Then again, he didn’t know the names of any of his classmates—only the teachers. She had probably assumed he was ignoring her earlier when, in reality, he had been escaping from a nightmare.

"It’s fine," he said with a nod, then turned to leave.

"I'm Nina Baek! Nice to meet you!"

Cirrus paused.

For the first time, under the warm sunlight and amidst the chattering students, he turned back to face her.

"Cirrus," he said.