Ren missed the last bus because the meeting ended later than expected.

The rain had stopped, but the small station platform was still wet and shining under the lamps. According to the app on his phone, there was only one train left that night.

Then he noticed a girl standing in front of the timetable.

She wore the same school uniform as him, but he had never seen her before. Her long black hair was damp from the rain, and she was pointing at the board with a serious expression.

"This train is not listed on your app, is it?" she asked.

Ren looked at the board. A new line had appeared at the bottom: 10:47, Platform 2, Local.

His phone showed nothing.

"Maybe the schedule was updated," Ren said, though he did not believe it.

The girl shook her head. "The station staff already left. No one updated it."

A cold feeling moved through Ren's stomach. "Then why is it there?"

Instead of answering, she took out an old ticket from her pocket. The paper was yellow and soft at the edges.

"My sister had this ticket," she said. "She disappeared from this station three years ago."

Ren wanted to step back, but the girl's voice was calm, not dramatic.

"The police said she probably got on the wrong train," she continued. "But there was no train at that time. At least, none on the official schedule."

Far down the track, a light appeared.

Ren checked his phone again. The screen briefly went black, then showed one notification: Service information is currently unavailable.

The girl looked at him. "If this train stops, please do not get on."

"What about you?" Ren asked.

"I only need to confirm something."

The train approached without the usual announcement. Its windows were bright, but Ren could not see any passengers inside. When it stopped, the doors opened with a soft sound.

On the floor near the doorway lay a second old ticket.

The girl covered her mouth. "That is my sister's handwriting."

Ren picked it up before she could move closer. On the back, someone had written one sentence: Do not wait alone.

At that moment, the train lights flickered.

Ren grabbed the girl's wrist and pulled her back from the edge of the platform. The doors closed immediately, as if the train had been waiting for her to step too close.

The train left without a sound.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Then the station lights returned to normal. The strange line on the timetable had disappeared.

The girl looked at the ticket in Ren's hand.

"My name is Saki," she said quietly. "I think my sister was warning me."

Ren looked down the empty track.

The night was silent again.

But from then on, he never ignored an unofficial change in a schedule.