First Door Check (1)
It was a small comfort that nothing was happening in the first-floor hallway. I never imagined that even briefly stepping into the annex would count as an out. If I hadn't memorized the annex keys in advance, I probably would've ended my life right there. Maybe I should've found a long stick or something to close it from a distance. If such a thing existed, I could at least put up minimal resistance. That gave me a new goal beyond the door checks: acquire a long stick. I added it to the imaginary status window in my head. This was the only way I felt I could hold out in this place.
Ahead of me loomed the staircase to the second floor. But I didn't head up right away. Instead, I recalled the rules I'd memorized. There were even rules for the stairs.
<Stairs>
1. There are left stairs, central stairs, and right stairs.
1.1. The stairs toward the annex are the left stairs.
2. Use the left stairs only when going up.
3. Use the right stairs only when going down.
4. Do not go up or down more than two floors at a time on the central stairs.
5. Teachers use only the left and central stairs.
6. Students use only the left and right stairs.
I suddenly wondered who had written the rulebook. It didn't seem like it was cobbled together from the blood and sweat of predecessors. All the pages had the same neat handwriting. There was no intent to deceive; it felt more like a sincere wish that no one would make mistakes. Directions and perspectives could change everything, but thanks to this helpful rulebook, I was certain the stairs in front of me were the left ones.
I carefully climbed to the second floor. The first thing that caught my eye was Classroom 1-1 for first-years. The door was locked with a padlock. Looking to the right, a short distance away, was the first-year staff room. Like the annex, it was off-limits.
<Staff Room>
1. Do not enter.
2. If the door is closed, it's safe.
3. If the door is even slightly open, do not approach.
Fortunately, it was firmly shut right now. Of course, even closed, I had no intention of approaching. I sighed inwardly in relief and turned left. A dark, endless hallway stretched out.
Know the three ultimate public horror spots? A pitch-black hospital, the military, and a school. And this place didn't even get light from outside—the only illumination came from the green emergency lights along the base of the hallway walls, casting an even creepier vibe.
Come to think of it, why didn't I, a security guard, have a flashlight? Aren't guards and flashlights a set menu item? Complaining didn't make one drop from the sky. I lingered in front of Classroom 1-1, unable to move forward. It wasn't that the second-floor hallway was particularly more dangerous. In terms of raw danger level, it was the same as the first floor. If we're just talking danger level.
The second-floor hallway's real terror wasn't danger.
<2nd Floor Hallway>
Things visible outside the windows cannot harm you.
It was the courage-crushing element: learned fear. After what happened at the annex, I dreaded facing something similar again. A real tough guy with nerves of steel might charge ahead, but me? I'm a total wimp. I didn't even want to imagine what bullshit might unfold outside those windows.
But what could I do? There was nothing else but to move forward. I walked while avoiding looking at the windows as much as possible, focusing on the classrooms. Classroom 1-2: locked. 1-3: locked. Past the central stairs, 1-4: padlock open. What were the rules here again? I pulled out the rulebook from my pocket and flipped it open. It was too dark to read well, but memorized content comes back with just a hint.
<Classroom 1-4>
If the ceiling and floor are inverted, it's safe.
If it looks like a normal classroom, do not enter.
A peek through the window showed a normal classroom. Come to think of it, I probably never needed to enter a classroom anyway. The fact that rules existed implied there might be moments when I had to. Like being chased by a youkai, maybe. ...I really don't want to experience that.
With that thought, I locked the padlock on 1-4. Tension easing a bit, my eyes accidentally drifted toward the window. Something was watching me.
I saw nothing.
A man with an expressionless open mouth.
I deliberately ignored the window and kept walking. Or was he smiling?
The downside of a vivid imagination: blood streaming from the eyes, thoughts that won't stop.
No teeth inside the gaping mouth.
Classroom 1-5: locked.
It's still watching me.
Should I look back now?
I can feel the gaze without looking.
To turn around, I'd have to look behind.
Looking back, I could tell for sure. That thing was smiling.
Ah.
Not human.
Humans.
This was it. At every window I'd passed, humans pressed their faces to the glass, grinning with all their might.
Impossible.
Are they laughing at me? Or enjoying themselves?
Laughter echoes in the silent hallway.
A sea of tearing laughter engulfs me.
I bolted for the right stairs and fled to the first floor.
★ Arriving at the central entrance, I spotted the light leaking from the guard room. Only then did my legs give out, and I collapsed.
"Haa... haa..."
There's research saying that trying not to think of something makes it pop up more. In other words, once you've seen it, it's too late. I should've never glanced at the windows, even at the end. The silence made me drop my guard. Closing my eyes would bring that scene right back. Sleep would be tough tonight. Still, I'd finished the second-floor door checks successfully. If 1-5 hadn't been locked... ...I need to fix this habit of imagining the worst.
Standing at the left stairs, I thought. According to the duty log, I'd have to encounter something on the third floor. Whether I could avoid it even if I wanted to was another question. But there was no rule saying I had to check floors sequentially. It just said classrooms after the annex. If I had to face a youkai anyway, why not later? So I decided to do the fourth floor first.
★ According to the rules, danger increased the higher the floor. First floor had nothing before midnight. Second floor just instilled fear without direct harm. But from the third, restrictions on movement kicked in. I passed the same scenery and reached the fourth floor. It was much darker than below—no emergency lights on, unlike lower floors.
<4th Floor Hallway>
If the emergency lights are off, you may move.
If they are on, do not move at all.
Minor movements like breathing are fine.
The lights were off, but faint light leaked from somewhere. The third-year staff room door was slightly ajar. Why hadn't this teacher gone home yet? Staying to torment me? Being a third-year teacher must suck even in this mad otherworld. It suddenly made sense. But understanding didn't quell my anger. What could I even do about it? Nothing. So I crept silently, checking classroom doors by feel.
The fourth floor was so dark I couldn't visually confirm padlocks. I reached out to touch where they should be. 3-1: locked. Just keep doing this. Wall-guided steps until I felt a door. 3-2: locked. Can't see, but it felt easier than the second floor. Then the emergency light flickered on.
Ice.
Was there a youkai reading my mind? The moment I tried hopeful thoughts, it crushed them. Should I think negatively instead? Too hard. Miserable. As if confirming my suspicion, the light went off again. This time, I walked with unhappy thoughts.
I won't escape.
3-3: locked.
I'll die doing guard duty forever.
3-4: locked.
Miserable thoughts seemed effective. Then the light turned on. Suspicion became certainty.
Ice.
★ 3-5: locked too. The third-years' door checks were so perfect I wanted to applaud. Only the third floor left. Even if it was inefficient, I figured descending to the first and climbing back up was safer. Heading down the right stairs, a sudden idea flashed.
Fourth and fifth classes are close here—finish them quick, go down, come back later? Minimize time on the third floor to dodge youkai. If one appears, flee the opposite stairs. Only worry: the third-floor hallway rule.
<3rd Floor Hallway>
Do not run under any circumstances.
Does that rule apply to youkai too?