If you're wondering who this Hina person is...
She was my Nana.
The one person in this twisted world who showed me that kindness could exist without cruelty trailing behind it—though I never truly believed that. I knew kindness was real. I'd seen it. But it always felt fragile, like paper shielding a storm.
She was too kind for her own good. I mean, she looked after me—me, the weirdest kid in that whole damn orphanage. Always quiet. Always alone. A walking question mark no one knew how to solve.
And yet... she stayed.
She took care of me like I was hers. I wasn't. I was a stranger. Just some kid dumped into a place I didn't ask to be in. But she gave me something no one else ever had: a home.
She even gave me her family name—Ashford. I didn't have one before that. She told me, "If you're ever in need of a mother, you can call me that."
And now she's gone.
It hurt more than I expected. But what can I say? It is what it is.
---
Moments Earlier – Principal's Office
"How... how did she die?" Ms. Rinka's voice was soft, the kind that follows bad dreams and worse truths.
Principal Hoshino didn't answer at first. She was flipping through a thick file, but her movements were slower now, heavier.
She wasn't someone who liked gore. Even in her thirties, she had the elegance of a painting in a private museum—silver hair that didn't age her, lips too perfect to be natural, a long nose that should've looked awkward but didn't. She had presence.
The kind of woman people secretly wanted to be... or be with.
"It was tragic," Hoshino said at last. "Too tragic. I can't explain what happened."
And yet Rinka knew. She knew it would break me.
But she also knew the truth couldn't stay hidden forever.
"I'll need to speak with Class 3E," she said.
The principal pressed a button on her desk.
"Attention, Class 3E. Please remain in your classroom after the final bell today. Thank you."
Her eyes met Ms. Rinka's, sharper now. "I know what happened last year wasn't pleasant. Most of the staff don't remember anything—but you do."
Rinka said nothing.
"We lost a lot of students," Hoshino continued. "And I know you still blame yourself."
There was a pause. Then the principal added, more gently, "But if it weren't for that transfer student ten years ago—the one who discovered the method to identify the Extra—we'd still be blind in all this. We wouldn't know how to even try to stop the curse."
She was right. But even "stop" was a lie.
They weren't stopping anything. Just pressing pause.
Buying time.
And every year, that time ran out all over again.
"A different teacher was supposed to handle things this year," Hoshino said. "But you insisted. Said you needed to face it—to redeem yourself."
"I did," Ms. Rinka replied quietly.
"I support that. Truly." The principal's expression softened. "None of this is under our control. And you shouldn't shoulder it alone."
Ms. Rinka bowed her head slightly in acknowledgment.
"One more thing," Hoshino added, glancing at the file again. "While reviewing the class roster and histories... I noticed something was missing. But I can't place what. If I figure it out, we'll talk again."
"Of course." Ms. Rinka stood straighter. "Thank you, Principal Hoshino. I'm glad you haven't given up on them."
And with that, she turned to leave.
---
Hallway
"Rinka!" Mr. Hayashi's voice rang out from behind her as he approached with a familiar grin. "How've things been going?"
She didn't stop walking. "Normal class stuff. Grading. Thinking about the meaningless of existence."
Mr. Hayashi laughed. "Good to know you're still yourself."
"Shut up, you perv."
Dry. Icy. Classic Rinka.
---
The tension in the classroom was thick enough to slice through. Ms. Rinka entered just moments after I woke from that strange dream. My head still felt foggy, but even through the haze, I could sense something was off.
Everyone had gone quiet.
She stepped in with a raised brow. "What is going on?" she asked, her eyes scanning the room. "And why are you all staring at me like that?"
Her gaze stopped on me. For just a second, her expression faltered. Barely—but I saw it.
She gave a small, forced smile. "You're all staring so hard, it kind of makes me think you like me."
Marcella grinned from her seat, hands braced on her desk. "Of course we do! You're the best teacher in the whole school. We're lucky to have you. We wouldn't have it any other way. You're the perfect teacher for our class—and we love you for that."
"Flattery will get you nowhere, Marcella," Ms. Rinka said dryly, crossing her arms.
She strode to the board, placed a hand firmly on the table, then turned to face us, all the warmth gone from her expression.
"We need to talk," she said.
Harrison crossed his arms, eyes narrowed. "No need to say anything further. When the principal told us to stay after the bell, I think we already knew why. It's about the curse, isn't it? The Curse of the Extra."
Ms. Rinka's face darkened, her lips tightening.
"Yes," she said. "You're right. But… we've already lost someone."
Lyra's voice was soft, tinged with sadness. "That's unfortunate… This time, I really thought we'd be able to prevent a death before it even started." She paused, then added with quiet respect, "May I ask… whom have we lost? Everyone seems present. I assume it must be a parent? Or someone outside the school?"
"You're always so perceptive, Lyra," Ms. Rinka murmured. "But…"
She looked back at me.
I already knew.
The moment she walked in, her expression said everything. I didn't have any known relatives.
Only her.
"Ren," she said quietly. "I'm sorry for your loss. Earlier today, we received a call. Ms. Hina Ashford… she was killed."
Silence.
Then every pair of eyes turned toward me.
I looked up and smirked faintly.
"Serves him right," Harrison muttered coldly.
Lyra snapped her head toward him. "Harrison. That's quite enough."
"What, you want me to just stay quiet?" Harrison said, bristling. "Let's be honest here—everyone in this class feels the same way. He deserves what happened to him."
Sebastian folded his arms. "Well, the curse did start because of him. If he'd just minded his own business, maybe we'd still have time."
"You guys should stop," William said, calm but firm. "He just lost someone, and all you have to say is that?"
"What do you mean, Will?" Harrison shot back. "He deserved it. He's a transfer student. You come into a school, you follow its rules. When he got here, he should've seen the dynamic. But no—he thought he was being kind. And look where that kindness led him."
Kindness, huh?
"You know…" I said flatly, "there's one thing my Nana always told me. 'Be kind to others, no matter the circumstance.'"
"Maybe it's that kindness that got her killed," Sebastian muttered.
Lyra turned to Ms. Rinka, clearly upset. "Seriously, ma'am? You're just going to let them keep talking like this? Can't you hear what they're saying?"
"I heard them, Lyra," Ms. Rinka said calmly. "I know I should stop it. But I won't. Not right now. I want everyone to speak. Let their hearts pour out. What happened today concerns all of you. And suppressing your thoughts won't fix anything."
She glanced at Harrison and Sebastian.
"But you two—belittling someone's loss isn't right," she said sharply. "Didn't your parents teach you better?"
"Sorry, Ms. Rinka," Harrison muttered, still stubborn. "But everything happening right now is Ren's fault."
Typical. Still blaming me.
You want to know why they think it's my fault? It's because of that day. The day I transferred into this school.
At first, they were curious. I heard it all—Where did you come from? From an orphanage? Is it true you solved the world's hardest equation? They were kind… for a moment.
Until the day I talked to her.
Kaida Katsuragi. She sat beside me. She seemed lonely. And the girl next to her, Luna… I noticed she wanted to speak to Kaida, too, but for some reason, she didn't. Or maybe she couldn't.
Whenever I asked anyone about Kaida, they acted like they didn't know who I meant.
Like she didn't exist.
So I talked to her.
And everything shifted.
Suddenly, everyone acted like she'd always been there. Like nothing was strange. Like they'd always known her.
"If you want to blame someone, Harrison," Lyra said quietly, "then blame all of us."
She paused. Then her voice hardened.
"No—blame me. I was the assistant class representative. I should have briefed him. I should have told him what was going on. But I didn't."
She turned to Sebastian.
"Ethan could've said something. He knew. But he didn't. And because he didn't… I stayed silent too."
Her eyes flashed.
"So don't you dare say it's his fault. Not when we all played a part."
And Ethan… he wasn't even in the classroom.
He'd left just before Ms. Rinka arrived.
Ms. Rinka looked around the classroom, letting the silence linger.
"Are you all finished?" she asked.
No one answered.
"Good," she said. "Then let's focus on what matters most—"
Her eyes settled on us all.
"—the Extra."
CHAPTER END.