The bus rumbled steadily up the winding mountain road, its engine groaning with effort as it climbed higher into the misty embrace of the cloudy morning. Inside, the chatter of students created a lively, chaotic symphony of ughter, gossip, and bursts of questions directed at their teacher, Rei Shiraishi. Despite the noise, there was an air of anticipation as the group embarked on their long-awaited trip.

  Yuki Kisaragi sat near the back, her head leaning against the cool gss of the window. She watched the scenery blur past: towering pines, jagged rock formations, and glimpses of snow-dusted peaks in the distance. The bus rocked gently, the rhythm almost lulling her into a trance as her dark eyes followed the endless curve of the mountain road.

  The sky above was heavy and overcast, with thick gray clouds rolling in like an ominous tide. The sunlight barely pierced through, casting the ndscape in muted tones of green and gray. It was the kind of day that carried a quiet unease, as though the mountains themselves held their breath. Yuki felt it in her chest, an unshakable heaviness she couldn’t quite expin.

  While her cssmates buzzed with energy and excitement, Yuki sat in a bubble of solitude, her unease growing with each mile they climbed. She sighed softly, her breath fogging the window as she tried to shake the feeling.

  “Yuki, are you even listening?”

  The sudden voice startled her, pulling her back to the present. She turned to see Hana leaning across the aisle, her ever-present grin firmly in pce. Hana, with her boundless energy and penchant for teasing, was the kind of person who could coax a reaction out of even the most stoic cssmates.

  “We were talking about snacks for the campsite,” Hana continued, her tone pyful. “You’ve gotta have something good stashed, right? What did you bring?”

  Yuki blinked, her thoughts still caught on the dreary scenery outside. “Just… chips,” she mumbled, her voice nearly drowned out by the surrounding noise.

  “Lame! I thought you’d have something cool, like those limited-edition candies or something.” Hana ughed, but her teasing was good-natured. She gave Yuki a mock pout before turning back to join the animated conversation with her seatmate.

  Yuki exhaled in relief, happy to be left alone once more. It wasn’t that she disliked her cssmates—far from it. She found their enthusiasm amusing at times, even endearing. But their energy was exhausting, and Yuki had always preferred the quiet comfort of her own company to the boisterous chaos of group activities.

  Sliding her hand into her bag, she pulled out her phone and began untangling her earbuds. Music was her sanctuary, her way of retreating from the world around her. With a few quick taps, her favorite pylist began to py, the familiar melodies washing over her like a calming tide. She closed her eyes, letting the rhythm blend seamlessly with the hum of the bus.

  “Yuki! You’re gonna miss it!”

  Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of Ayumi’s voice, a bright, bubbly girl seated a row ahead. Ayumi was pointing excitedly out the window, her arm stretched toward a distant waterfall that spilled gracefully down a rocky cliff. The cascade sparkled faintly in the muted light, a rare spsh of brilliance against the somber backdrop.

  Yuki gnced at the waterfall briefly and gave a polite nod, but she made no move to stand or admire it further.

  “She’s such a hermit,” Ayumi giggled, nudging her seatmate. “Bet she’s thinking about her next level-up instead of this trip.”

  Yuki’s lips twitched into a faint smile, unbothered by the harmless jab. Ayumi’s teasing was familiar territory, and Yuki didn’t mind being known as the quiet gamer in the css.

  The minutes passed in a gentle haze, the bus swaying rhythmically as it wound higher into the mountains. The hum of the engine, combined with the lulling motion, nearly sent Yuki drifting off. Her eyes fluttered shut, the edges of her consciousness softening.

  Then the bus jolted sharply, snapping her fully awake.

  Her headphones slipped from her ears, and she sat up straighter, heart pounding as her eyes darted around the cabin. For a moment, it seemed like nothing was wrong—just another bump in the road. The chatter of her cssmates continued unabated, their ughter and voices filling the space as if nothing had happened.

  But something didn’t feel right.

  Yuki’s gaze drifted to the front of the bus, her stomach twisting as her eyes locked onto the driver. His posture was hunched, his head bobbing slightly as though he were fighting to stay awake. His hands gripped the wheel loosely, and the bus wavered faintly in its ne.

  Her heart sank.

  “Is he… falling asleep?” she thought, her breath catching.

  She gnced around, expecting someone else to notice—the teacher, Rei, who sat a few rows ahead, or one of her more observant cssmates. But everyone seemed oblivious, too engrossed in their conversations to notice the subtle signs of danger.

  “Hey, Yuki, what’s with the face?” Hana’s voice cut through her growing anxiety. The girl had turned back again, her brows furrowing at Yuki’s pale expression.

  “The driver…” Yuki said softly, her voice barely audible. “Something’s wrong.”

  Hana followed Yuki’s gaze toward the front, her own smile faltering. “You think he’s…?”

  “He’s swerving,” Yuki interrupted, her voice gaining urgency.

  Hana’s frown deepened. She turned to Ayumi. “Should we tell Sensei?”

  Before they could decide, Yuki stood abruptly, her knees trembling as the bus hit another small bump. Gripping the backs of the seats for bance, she forced herself into the aisle.

  “Sensei,” Yuki called hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper. She tried again, louder. “Sensei!”

  Rei turned her head slightly, her sharp features softening with concern. “Yes, Kisaragi?”

  “The driver… something’s wrong,” Yuki said, her voice trembling slightly.

  Rei’s sharp gaze snapped toward the front of the bus, catching sight of the driver slumping slightly against the wheel. Her expression darkened instantly. Standing abruptly, she gripped the seat in front of her to steady herself as the vehicle rocked gently along the mountain road. Her voice carried a calm yet commanding tone, though there was an undercurrent of concern.

  "Driver-san," she called firmly, her eyes narrowing as she assessed his pale, perspiring face. "Are you feeling alright?"

  The driver jolted awake at her words, his hands instinctively tightening on the wheel. His bloodshot eyes darted to her in the rearview mirror. "Ah… yes. Yes, I’m fine," he stammered, his voice uneven, betraying his fatigue.

  Rei wasn’t convinced. The faint quiver in his voice and the tension in his posture told her enough. Something wasn’t right. She straightened, her tone leaving no room for debate. "Pull over at the next safe spot. We’ll take a short break."

  The driver hesitated for a moment, his knuckles whitening on the wheel. Then he nodded quickly. "Of course, Shiraishi-sensei," he replied, his voice steadier now but no less strained.

  Rei turned back to the rows of students, her gaze scanning the faces of her charges. "Everyone, please remain seated," she announced, her tone firm and reassuring. "We’ll be stopping shortly."

  A few students exchanged nervous gnces, but the tension in the air seemed to dissipate slightly at her words. Most rexed back into their seats, resuming quiet conversations or staring out the windows. However, one student, Yuki, couldn’t shake the unease settling deep in her gut. She turned to the window, her reflection merging with the blurred streaks of the forest rushing past.

  The nagging sense of dread refused to leave her. Something wasn’t right. She could feel it.

  And then, without warning, it happened.

  The bus jolted violently as the driver’s head dipped forward once again—this time for a fraction of a second too long. The tires screeched, skidding against the gravel edge of the narrow road, and the vehicle swerved sharply.

  Pandemonium erupted.

  "Hold on!" Rei’s voice rang out, slicing through the rising cacophony of screams.

  Yuki barely had time to react. Her hands gripped the edge of her seat as the world tilted violently. The bus careened off the road, the sound of scraping metal deafening as the vehicle’s undercarriage tore against the rocky slope.

  Then came the lurch.

  Time seemed to stretch infinitely as the bus tipped over the edge of the mountainside, its weight dragging it down in a sickening freefall. Yuki’s body was flung sideways, her head colliding with the cold gss of the window. Her vision blurred, the scene around her a chaotic blur of twisted bodies, flying objects, and shattering gss.

  Her breath caught as the vehicle tumbled, the sickening crunch of metal echoing through the cabin. For a moment, she felt weightless, suspended in a terrifying limbo as the bus spiraled into the abyss.

  Finally, the bus came to a grinding halt with a jarring crash. The silence that followed was haunting, broken only by the faint creaks of metal settling and the occasional whimper of pain.

  Yuki’s head lolled against the jagged remains of the shattered window. Blood trickled down her forehead, warm and sticky, mixing with the shards of gss glinting faintly in the dim light. Her vision swam, colors and shapes blending into an incomprehensible haze.

  Her body throbbed with pain, each breath sharp and shallow. She tried to move, but her limbs were unresponsive, pinned beneath a heavy piece of debris. Her left arm y at an unnatural angle, the pain radiating in sharp, fiery bursts. Blood filled her mouth, metallic and warm, as she struggled to swallow and keep breathing.

  A voice called faintly through the ringing in her ears. "Yuki!"

  She blinked, her gaze sluggishly shifting toward the sound. Haruka was crawling toward her, her face streaked with blood and tears, her movements slow and deliberate as she navigated the wreckage.

  "Yuki, are you okay?" Haruka’s voice cracked, her fear evident even in the haze of Yuki’s fading consciousness.

  "Haruka…" Yuki managed to croak, her voice barely audible. "I… can’t move."

  "Don’t worry," Haruka said, her voice trembling but resolute. "I’ll get you out of here. Just hold on."

  "The others," Yuki rasped, her eyelids heavy. "Check… on them."

  Haruka hesitated, her gaze flicking toward the twisted remains of the bus where faint cries and moans could still be heard. She bit her lip, nodding quickly. "I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere, Yuki."

  As Haruka disappeared into the wreckage, Yuki’s thoughts began to drift. Memories surfaced unbidden—her dad’s and sister's smiles, the quiet of her room, the game designs she’d left unfinished on her desk. Regret welled up inside her like a bitter tide as all the things she still had yet to experience and unfinished projects fshed through her mind moments before her death.

  "I don’t want to die," she thought, tears streaking her bloodied cheeks as darkness began to creep into the edges of her vision.