The Silhouette

The dismissal bell rang, ending the day. The long night was beginning. Hui Nan walked out of the teaching building into a sky already deeply dark, the cold wind howling, cutting at her face. She pulled her collar up and walked into the wind toward the school gate. As she neared it, she heard a crack behind her — everyone turned: the national flag had been ripped free by the gust and fallen from the pole, landing on the ground. At least it hadn't hit anyone.

Hui Nan exhaled and walked out the gate, heading toward the bus stop. She wondered if she would be alive to come back in the morning. Thinking this, she couldn't help glancing back one more time at the gate of No. 4. The gate was the same gate — but at the edge of her vision Hui Nan caught a strange set of eyes. Someone was watching her from the shadows.

Jia Shi had told her he'd sensed eyes tracking him from the dark. He had died in the school campus shortly after. Now, Hui Nan could feel it clearly — those eyes had fixed on her.

Terrified, Hui Nan scanned her surroundings. Three boys in first-year uniforms were arguing loudly about a mobile game to her left. Four third-year girls were walking toward her. The lamb kebab vendor was grilling a skewer of meat, thick white smoke obscuring his face. Two first-year students stood at the front of the kebab queue, their backs to Hui Nan. Behind them, a student in a fourth-year uniform. A couple in third-year uniforms had just come out of the school gate, the girl with her face turned down. Something about the scene felt off to Hui Nan, though she couldn't say what.

A bus came, and Hui Nan squeezed on with a crowd of students. The boarding rush pushed her toward the back.

The bus pulled out. The driver checked his passengers in the rearview mirror. A fourth-year boy had unconsciously sat in the priority seat at the front. A third-year girl behind him stared blankly out the window with earbuds in. Next to her stood a tall second-year girl gripping an overhead strap; every time the bus turned, her body swung widely, as if she were being hanged from the strap. Behind Hui Nan were two second-year girls discussing the recent school killings:

"That fourth-year history teacher who died this morning — had you ever seen him? He was pretty good-looking. Such a shame."

"You can still think about whether he was good-looking? So many people have died at school recently — aren't you scared?"

"What's there for me to be scared of? It's all teachers dying. Oh — did you see Zhang Yao at morning exercises today? Shaking on the platform when he spoke. Like he's next."

"Right — look at how he used to swagger around. Turns out he's scared just like anyone…"

Hui Nan had no capacity to listen. She could feel those eyes right here on the bus. Watching her, right now, on this very vehicle.

The bus stopped at a small roadside station. The front door opened — an old woman got on. The back door opened out of habit, but no one got off. In the instant before the back door closed, Hui Nan suddenly lunged for it and jumped out.

The door shut. The bus moved on. Hui Nan was the only person to get off at this stop. She had shaken the shadow. She tightened her coat and walked quickly toward home.

As she walked, she replayed the scenes from the walk home in her mind. A blurry figure gradually took shape in the recollection. When she turned back to look at the school flag in the campus, someone had been standing with their back to her. When she turned back to look at the school gate from outside, the kebab-queue student had been standing with their back to her. On the bus, the student in the priority seat had been sitting with their back to her. Looking carefully at the memory, she now saw these were all the same person — the one in the fourth-year uniform. Wait: fourth-year students should still be at school for evening study. How would one be dismissed at the same time as the other grades?

The thing that had been nagging at her suddenly clicked. The shadow following her was this person in the fourth-year uniform.

And as she arrived at that conclusion, Hui Nan realized she had walked, without noticing, into a narrow alley. Then, all at once, she felt those eyes again — at her back. She spun around.

A fourth-year student in uniform was standing about ten paces behind her, back toward her, motionless, in this long quiet alley with no one else in it. Hui Nan's legs had gone beyond her control. She could only stand there, shaking.

The figure slowly turned around. In the dim light of the alley lamp, Hui Nan saw the face.

"It's you!"