The cab came to a quiet stop on the gravel path, its tires crunching beneath the thick veil of mist that always blanketed the forest just outside the academy walls. Ame Yukishiro stepped out, clutching her suitcase, her eyes rising slowly to meet the towering iron gates of St. Laphine's Academy for Girls.
It looked like something from a hauntingly beautiful dream — or a romantic nightmare.
Black vines curled around the stone pillars like skeletal hands, rose petals drifted lazily through the cool air, and a distant bell chimed softly from within the gothic towers. The air smelled faintly of rain, lavender… and something else.
Something metallic.
Something like blood.
Ame swallowed.
"Too much imagination," she muttered to herself, gripping her coat tighter.
She'd only just transferred here. After a scandal at her last school—one no one would talk about, not even her—St. Laphine's was her last chance. A place for "refined, emotionally gifted young women," the letter had said.
Emotionally gifted?
No.
Emotionally cursed, maybe.
She rolled her suitcase forward and stopped when she saw a girl standing at the gate.
Tall. Pale. Jet-black hair tied into a perfect ribbon.
A perfectly ironed blazer hugging a lithe frame.
Eyes sharp enough to slice silence itself.
Ame hesitated.
The girl didn't move at first. Then, she turned her head slowly and locked eyes with Ame.
Icy blue.
As if she could see through her.
"You're late," the girl said coldly.
Ame blinked. "Sorry. Are you… the welcoming committee?"
"No," she said, "I'm Rika Ayanami. Prefect of Class 3-A. I've been asked to escort you." She stepped forward. "Don't touch me."
"I—wasn't going to."
Rika's eyes narrowed. "At this academy, touches are not innocent. Especially not kisses."
Ame's throat tightened. "Excuse me?"
"You'll find out," Rika said simply. She turned, and without another word, walked through the arching gate. As Ame followed, she noticed something etched in gold at the top:
"To kiss is to curse. To touch is to betray."
What kind of place is this?
The dorms were almost painfully beautiful — ivory walls with velvet red curtains, antique mirrors, flickering chandeliers. Girls in neatly pressed uniforms passed by, many whispering and sneaking glances at her.
"She's the transfer…"
"I heard she's the reason her last school shut down…"
"She doesn't even know the rules…"
"Poor thing."
Their whispers stung.
As Rika led her to her room, she paused at a forked hallway.
"Listen carefully," Rika said, her voice like ice. "The west wing is forbidden after sunset. Emotional contamination has been detected."
Ame blinked. "Emotional what?"
But Rika was already walking again.
They reached Room 3-B. Rika unlocked it, stepped aside.
"This is yours. You'll be sharing with someone else."
"Who?"
Before Rika could answer, a bubbly voice cut through the tension like a sunbeam.
"Helloooooo, new roommate!"
A girl with honey-blonde curls burst in, her cheeks flushed, bright green eyes glittering with joy. She wore the same uniform but had added pink ribbons, lip gloss, and a necklace with a tiny heart pendant.
"I'm Yui, and I'm super, super excited to finally have a roommate who isn't a paranoid kissphobic maniac!"
Ame blinked. "I… uh…"
Yui threw herself onto the bed dramatically. "Seriously, some of the girls here act like lips are loaded guns."
Rika cleared her throat. "They are."
Yui rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, curse mechanics and all that, but it's not like everyone here is hiding deadly emotional secrets or anything, right?"
A beat of silence.
Rika just stared.
Yui blinked. "...Right?"
Rika turned to Ame. "Stay away from physical contact. Especially on the lips. This academy doesn't forgive emotional contamination."
With that, she left.
Later that night, after dinner in the eerily silent dining hall, Yui returned to their room with a smirk.
"So… what scandal brought you here, huh?" she asked, flopping onto her bed, legs swinging.
Ame hesitated. "You first."
Yui laughed. "Oh, honey, I made the class president cry during our confession game. She kissed me on a dare and saw my memory. I think she saw the part where I almost burned down my dad's car. Fun times."
Ame's eyes widened. "Wait, your memory?"
Yui sat up, suddenly serious. "Yeah. That's the rule here. Kissing someone? It opens a window into your deepest suppressed emotion or memory. Most girls can't handle what they see—or what's seen."
Ame's heart pounded.
"So why do people still kiss?"
"Curiosity. Stupidity. Desire. And sometimes…" Her voice dipped. "Revenge."
Ame suddenly felt cold.
"What happens if you kiss someone and… nothing is revealed?"
Yui tilted her head. "Then either you're lying to yourself so hard that even your soul can't find the truth…"
She leaned closer.
"Or you're not human."
That night, as Ame lay staring at the ceiling, her fingers curled tightly under the blanket. Something inside her stirred. Not fear. Not shame.
A memory.
A kiss.
A girl's face she couldn't remember, whispering:
"Forget me. Or they'll make you disappear too."
She gasped—and sat up.
Yui stirred. "Nightmare?"
"No," Ame whispered. "I think I had a memory."
Yui turned. "Want to talk about it?"
Ame paused.
Then shook her head. "Not yet."
Yui smiled gently. "That's okay. Just don't kiss any mysterious girls at midnight. That's my job."
Ame smiled faintly, for the first time that day.
But outside, past the windowpane, a shadow flickered.
And from the forbidden west wing…
came the sound of lips softly parting.