Shadow Plastic Surgery
Pitch-black darkness swallowed Everlight Academy whole in the dead of night. The corridors, brimming with students' energy during the day, now echoed only with a chilling silence. The hush was so profound that not even a single footstep rang out, as if the massive building itself held its breath in slumber. The academy, sunk into thick shadows, felt like it could devour everything—or vomit something back up.
In that silence, one female student crept cautiously through the academy's depths. Every step was measured with taut nerves, her whole body trembling. Dressed in her uniform, she hunched her shoulders and scanned her surroundings with jittery eyes. She toed the floor gingerly, lest it creak beneath her. Gripped by the delusion that the entire midnight academy watched her every move, she ghosted silently up to the fourth-floor corridor.
Reaching her target spot, she peered quietly out the window. Fortunately, the sky beyond was cloudless. A silver-white moon shone vividly against the deep indigo night, surrounded by a glittering host of stars.
"Thank goodness there's not a cloud in sight tonight. I heard it would be clear, but I wasn't sure..."
Murmuring to herself in relief, she turned back. Her shadow stretched long and sharp across the corridor wall, cast by the moonlight. Was it because the moon was so bright? Her shadow on the wall was unnaturally vivid. Almost... alive.
But as if that were perfect, the girl reached out toward her shadow. And began kneading it. Delicately, pouring all her focus in, slowly.
In the empty midnight academy, the sight of her silently molding her own shadow was bizarre. Grotesque. Like a mad surgeon carving up a patient on the operating table. In the quiet, only the crunching, twisting sounds spread softly down the hall.
As she worked the shadow, her eyes grew bloodshot, gradually filling with ecstasy and madness.
"Heh... heh heh heh..."
How much time passed? Despite the chilly spring night, she was drenched in sweat, utterly immersed. But then—
"Hold it! Who's there? Who's still in the academy at this hour?!"
A voice called out to her. Unmistakably a teacher on night patrol.
"Eek!"
The shout snapped her trance. Jerking back to reality, she leaped in place like a cat spotting a cucumber, hands still frozen mid-motion on her shadow. Her heart pounded like a deer's facing a hunter.
Thud-thud-thud!
Panicking, she yanked her hands away and bolted. Her frantic footsteps shattered the corridor's silence.
For a split second, her friend's warning about "Shadow Plastic Surgery" flashed in her mind—but right now, escaping the patrolling teacher came first.
Luckily, the duty teacher didn't pursue. He stood frozen, as if he'd glimpsed something horrific that shouldn't exist in reality.
...
The next day, the Paranormal Investigation Club Room was as quiet as ever. Elaine sat at the desk, meticulously organizing ghost story records. Rozalia sketched diligently in her notebook. Rone, still riding high from her Gift strengthening, smiled as she did light stretches. Aurora read a book that looked boring and pretentious as usual. With nothing to do, I couldn't stand the boredom and spoke up.
"Even strengthening your Gifts doesn't change much in daily life, huh."
Aurora glanced at me from her book and replied indifferently.
"Well, without a ghost story showing up, there's no point in strengthening them no matter how much you do."
With that short, blasé exchange, we returned to our tasks. The room filled only with the rustle of turning pages, the scratch of pencils, and Rone's soft humming.
Then—
Creeeak...
The club room door eased open cautiously. A unfamiliar girl peeked in. Caution mixed with teary vulnerability on her face. Hunched shoulders, shaky gaze—she forced her mouth open.
"I-Is this the Paranormal Investigation Club?"
Her small, trembling voice told me immediately: something serious had happened.
Straightening up, I fixed her with a cool stare.
"What brings you to the Paranormal Investigation Club?"
Her lips quivered as she answered.
"I-I'm Emma Brown, a first-year... I heard the Paranormal Investigation Club solves problems tied to ghost stories, so I came."
"Good call, then. What ghost story consultation do you need?"
"...It's not a consultation!"
"Not a consultation... Then?"
"It's a curse! My roommate's been cursed! Please help!"
Emma couldn't hold back her tears and cried out. As expected, no ordinary issue.
...A ghost story.
"...Tell us the details."
Under my prompting, Emma spilled the request in a rush.
"It's the curse of 'Shadow Plastic Surgery.' Lydia ignored the precautions for Shadow Plastic Surgery and got cursed."
Shadow Plastic Surgery?
I raised an eyebrow, and Elaine caught it, answering right away.
"It's a rumor circulating in the academy lately."
She even knows about trending academy rumors. She's grown.She used to be so isolated she was clueless about that stuff.
Elaine spoke quietly.
"It's actually in the records I'm organizing right now. I was planning to share with Teacher once done... Wait, were you just thinking something rude? That look on your face."
"Must be your imagination. Anyway, explain Shadow Plastic Surgery in detail."
Elaine eyed me suspiciously but nodded and began calmly.
"Shadow Plastic Surgery is a recent ghost story making the rounds. The gist: at a specific place, specific time, using a specific method on your shadow, you can change your appearance."
She mimed gripping something in the air and continued.
"Details: on a bright, cloudless moonlit night, in a certain section of the fourth-floor corridor at Everlight Academy. There, you stretch, pull, shrink your shadow directly—and the changes you sculpt reflect on your real body. Supposedly, you can grow taller, lose weight. Even adjust your face: higher nose bridge, sharper jawline for beauty."
She paused, glanced at Emma, then back at me.
"Rumor has it this isn't just baseless occult talk—some students have actually experienced effects. But there are strict precautions. Though... what they are varies by student, or is unknown altogether."
Listening, Emma broke down sobbing.
"It's my fault...! Melissa's because of me!!"
Rone jolted in shock.
"Wait! Melissa!? You mean Melissa's cursed!? No wonder I didn't see her at the academy today!!"
Apparently, the cursed girl knew Rone too—Rone shouted loudly. Cowed by Rone's intensity, Emma stammered.
"Y-Yes. I told Melissa about Shadow Plastic Surgery. But I didn't know the full precautions... That's why she got cursed!!"
"No way...!!"
Rone gaped in horror. I calmed her, then asked Emma.
"Did this curse kill the girl named Melissa?"
"N-No! She's not dead. But..."
"That's fine. As long as she's alive, it's enough."
My words were for Rone, not Emma. We have regression. If she's alive, we can rewind.
The other students settled at my reassurance. Confirming that, I turned to Emma.
"Can you take us to your cursed roommate Melissa now?"
Emma froze mid-sob, hesitating. Unsure if she should agree, she looked down, avoiding my eyes.
"It's necessary to resolve the ghost story."
I persuaded her firmly.
"If you really want to help your roommate, trust us completely and cooperate fully."
Emma sighed deeply, steeling herself, and looked up. Then cautiously added a condition.
"One request. Please don't be shocked when you see Melissa herself."
"Promise. I won't be shocked or mock your friend."
With my vow, Emma led us to Melissa.