Chapter 74074 Because there is only Class 2...

Finding the truth behind the Class 2 students' deaths proved far more difficult than I'd imagined. I'm neither Detective Conan, who always sees the truth instantly, nor am I Kindaichi. The scattered scientific methods and motives I'd gathered in my head pale in comparison to reality.

Honestly, I've never been particularly curious. But this time, something seemed to tug at something within me. People are truly complex. The more indifferent something is to us, the easier it is to ignore it. But once we sense that a shadow might be casting its shadow over us, we can no longer ignore it.

I searched online for news about the Class 2 car accident, but there were too many random websites. I found a press release published by a local daily newspaper, which seemed more reliable, and I learned the name of the reporter who wrote the article.

During a break between classes, I walked to a quiet corner of the teaching building and called the newspaper office. The long, drawn-out busy tone echoed through the receiver, mechanical and empty, as if the other end was connected to a long-forgotten, abandoned office. Undeterred, I redialed, but the result was the same.

The clues started by the reporter were abruptly cut off at the starting point.

That leaves only the final direction. When schools organize outings, students always inform their parents of the destination and itinerary in advance. Perhaps, in one parent's hazy memory, some unnoticed detail remains.

The problem was, I couldn't recall the faces of my classmates from Class 2. Every time I tried to recall them, it was as if a layer of fog obscured my vision. Their features blurred and shaky, leaving only hazy outlines and fragments of voices.

The only way is to go to the teacher's office and find the computer of the head teacher of Class 2. There should be a document in it that at least has the names, contact information, and even home addresses of all the students.

Thinking of this, I couldn't help but take a deep breath. This behavior is really a punishment, it's quite a punishment.

I was a little nervous about this plan. After all, it was my first time doing something like this, so it was normal to be nervous. It would be strange if I wasn't nervous, right?

However, who is the head teacher of Class 2?

Wait, there should have been the head teacher of Class 2 on the bus at that time, right?

I took out the news again and read it word by word, and confirmed that the head teacher of Class 2 was also on the bus.

…

After lunch, Wu You and I wandered over to Class 2. Wu You didn't really want to come, but I dragged her along. I had a feeling that there was something more to this Wu You in this fantasy. It was probably a sixth sense.

We stood at the door of Class 2, and an indescribable chill crept up our spines.

The afternoon sun slanted through the magnolia trees outside the corridor, casting tiny dots of light on the ground. Only the area in front of Class 2's door seemed separated by some invisible barrier, and the light seemed thinner and dimmer there. I carefully turned the doorknob and found it was unlocked. Wu You hesitated half a step behind me.

"Ayu, don't you think this place is a bit cold?"

I looked at the untouched classroom of Class 2 and said, "Maybe it's not getting any sunlight, so it's a little cold." After a pause, I added, "It's still spring, and the Dragon Boat Festival hasn't even arrived yet."

As I spoke, my fingertips touched the cold metal door handle again and I turned it gently.

“Squeak—”

The old hinges groaned dryly, a long, lingering sound that was particularly jarring in the overly quiet atmosphere. A lingering smell of dust and stagnation rose first. It wasn't foul, just heavy, so heavy that it made one's chest feel stuffy.

It’s only been a few days, but it feels like it has been forgotten for a long time.

The desk and chairs were still there, neatly arranged. A layer of dust had settled on the wooden tabletop, blurring the grain. The chairs were neatly tucked away under the desk, as if their owners would return and sit down any moment.

But there won't be that moment.

The blackboard was wiped clean, and there was a row of small squares painted with watercolors on the left side, where the day's schedule would have been written.

Glancing over the empty seats, I vaguely seem to see vague afterimages. A half-filled exercise book might be tucked away in the desk, a plastic bag of trash dangling from a hook. A pen cap or half an eraser might have rolled off the foot of a chair. But these are only imaginary. The real objects have long since been cleared away, leaving only traces of their former existence and a thick layer of dust.

Wu You whispered, "During the days you were in the hospital, their parents took their things back home..."

The silence was like damp and cold cotton wool, wrapping around me layer by layer, blocking my ears and suppressing my breathing.

The sound of the wind outside the window, the faint sounds of playfulness on the distant playground, seemed filtered by this, becoming distant and unreal. This classroom seemed to be a self-contained entity, an island forgotten by time, a container filled with emptiness.

The two of us stood at the door, like outsiders who had accidentally walked into a faded portrait. We didn't even dare to step heavily, for fear of disturbing the tranquility that was so heavy that it could crush people's hearts.

Wu You gently tugged at the corner of my clothes, his voice very low, with a barely perceptible tremor: "...Shall we go?"

I didn't move, but my eyes were fixed on the suffocating emptiness, trying to make out the outline of the buried truth from the neatly arranged tables and chairs and the solidified dust.

"Ayu!"

Little Lotus's sudden call jolted me out of my reverie. In an instant, all sorts of sounds flooded my eardrums—distant laughter, the rustling of leaves in the wind, my own heartbeat, as if I had suddenly emerged from underwater, back into the world.

Only then did I notice that Wu You was almost crying. She gripped my wrist tightly, her nails digging slightly into the skin, and there was an almost pleading look in her eyes... What was she praying for?

Little Lotus ran over, grabbed my hand without hesitation, and led me out of Class 2. Wu You followed closely behind, relieved, practically jogging to keep up. Arriving at the playground, the sun immediately bathed me in sunlight, dispelling the chill that had been lingering in my bones. It was as if my blood had begun to flow again, my body gradually warming up.

"Ayu..." Wu You's voice still trembled with worry, "Why do you have to go to Class 2's classroom?"

I turned to look at her and asked directly, "Xiaoyou, do you know why only Class 2 in the entire senior year went on the field trip?"

A flash of understanding flashed in Wu You's eyes, "Just for this?"

I nodded.

"That's because there's only Class 2..."

I didn't hear what Wu You said next because Xiao Lianhua suddenly covered my ears with her hands.

But Little Lotus doesn't know that I can read lips. What Wu You meant was -

That’s because only Class 2 died.

It suddenly dawned on me.

It wasn't just Class 2 that went on the field trip. In fact, the entire senior year went on the field trip, but Class 2 had an accident and everyone died.

So, in the illusion, the cause and effect relationship was changed. Because only Class 2 died in the accident, only Class 2 went on the outing.

I felt as if I had caught a dangling silk thread.