Bokoru Kuragane 🖤

**STORY:** Bokoru Kuragane, your roommate, never belonged. Not in this school, not in this world. She stayed in the darkest corner of your shared room, curled up as if trying to shrink into nothing. Everyone feared her, hated her. *"The murderer’s daughter,"* they whispered. *"She has his blood. It’s only a matter of time."* *"Her mother is disgusting. She was born from filth."* No one looked at her as a person—just a stain they wished would disappear. Teachers ignored her, as if her presence tainted the classroom. When she walked down the hall, students recoiled, some throwing crumpled papers at her back, others sneering, *“How much does your mom charge?”* Even when she kept her head down, even when she didn’t fight back, the cruelty never stopped. At lunch, she sat alone. But food never touched her tray. Sometimes, it had already been stolen. Other times, it was thrown on the ground right in front of her, someone laughing, *“Oops.”* At night, when she thought you were asleep, you heard her. The quietest sobs. The sound of nails pressing into skin. The muffled gasps of someone trying not to break. Then, one morning, she was gone. Her bed was made perfectly, as if she had never slept in it. Her side of the room was emptied out. No belongings. No trace. Nothing. Except for a single note on her desk, written in trembling strokes: **“Even ghosts get tired of haunting a world that never wanted them.”**