Behind the Mask

Chapter 5: His Silhouette

They called it a “community connection event,” which was hilarious in a tragic sort of way, because nobody in this school connects with anybody. We just orbit around each other holding our phones like life-support machines. The teachers kept tossing out words like bonding and unity, but all I could see were students hiding behind screens, pretending they weren’t strangers forced into the same gym.

I dragged myself to my usual spot on the bleachers, high enough to avoid conversation but low enough to not look suspicious. The gym was packed in that suffocating, humid way that made my skin crawl. Too many voices. Too many eyes. Too many people pretending they wanted to be here.

I felt that gnawing pressure in my chest again, the one that screams get out before you snap at someone. So I did what any overwhelmed first-year does. I tried to leave.

The guard stopped me at the entrance, one hand up like I was trying to escape a prison facility. “First years stay inside,” he said, not even looking at my face, just bored and robotic. I swallowed whatever snark wanted to come out and nodded.

But the campus is huge, and the guards don’t actually care enough to memorize faces. When a group of fourth-years walked out laughing about some professor, I slipped behind them, keeping my head down. They didn’t even notice. No one ever notices when I leave.

I wandered into the main building because the CR there was cleaner. Too clean, honestly. The tiles looked polished enough to reflect your sins back at you. Two seniors were in front of the mirror, fixing their hair like they were prepping for a photo shoot. One of them looked… off. Like he’d walked out of a morgue and someone forced a smile onto his face. His skin had that pale, waxy look, and even his eyes seemed dim. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. The living-dead aesthetic wasn’t working for him.

I washed my hands, splashed water on my face, and went straight to the canteen. I only had fifteen pesos, barely enough for anything except maybe a piece of bread, so I bought what I could and drank water from the foot-pump fountain like a traveler lost in a desert. My wallet felt as empty as my patience.

When I went back toward the gym, I saw him.

Just a silhouette at first. Leaning against the wall near the stairs. Hood up. Head tilted slightly down so I couldn’t see his face clearly. But there was something wrong with the way he stood. Too still. Too deliberate. Like he was waiting specifically for me.

I slowed down, confused. The hallway wasn’t crowded. He could’ve been looking at anyone. But the moment my steps softened, his head lifted the tiniest bit, and that’s when I saw it. Dark eyes. Sharp. Empty. Almost familiar.

He looked like me.

Not exactly. More like a distorted reflection. A version of me that had grown up in shadows instead of sunlight. Pale. Tired. Hollow in the ways a normal person shouldn’t be.

My stomach twisted. I blinked hard, and he was gone.

Hallucination? Hunger? Maybe both. I shook my head and kept walking.

But when I got back into the gym and climbed up to my spot, a sharp pain exploded behind my left ear. Like someone had dropped something heavy on my skull, then vanished before I could turn around. I sucked in a breath, grabbed the railing, and forced myself down the bleachers again. I went to the CR inside the gym this time because the pounding in my head wouldn’t stop.

The mirror flickered for a moment. My reflection looked… wrong. Off-sync with my movements, just a fraction slower. The lights buzzed overhead, humming in a way that set my teeth on edge.

I splashed water on my face. A lot. More than I needed. Anything to ground myself.

Who was he? Why did he look so much like me? Some cousin I never met? A trick of the light? Someone who knew me from somewhere? The questions spun inside my skull like a loose wheel.

I breathed in. Out. Then forced myself back to the gym.

The event continued with games that were supposed to connect us, but all it did was connect my patience to its expiration date. I laughed a few times because some students couldn’t follow instructions to save their lives. I wasn’t better; I was just better at pretending.

At some point, I slipped out again. Third time. Maybe fourth. I didn’t care.

Then I saw her.

My crush. The one who didn’t know I existed. She glanced directly at me for half a second, and my brain lagged so hard I basically turned around and walked away like a malfunctioning NPC. Smooth. Truly.

But then, behind her, near the edge of the hallway, I saw him again.

Same hoodie. Same empty eyes.

Still. Watching.

Not blinking.

Not breathing.

Not now. Not again.

I froze.

He didn’t move.

And for the first time, I wondered if he was even real.