Episode 5.
Sean, who had been resting his chin on his hand, abruptly lifted both his chin and his gaze. Sena, who should have been rolling around amiably hand-in-hand with the other oranges, was standing at the door. She held a green basket in her arms.
“…Why? How did you know I was here?”
“Ah… I saw you going into the library! I didn’t know which floor though.”
“……”
As Sean didn’t answer, Sena approached him with a smile. The basket was filled to the brim with oranges. Just by closing the distance, the scent of oranges rushed over him.
“I brought these for you!”
“…Those oranges?”
Even a quick glance suggested there were over ten. The basket was completely full of nothing but oranges.
“Yeah!! I told you last time. I’d definitely pay you back.”
“With oranges?”
“…They’re delicious! I guarantee it as a 6th-year student at this school.”
“I said you don’t need to pay me back.”
“That’s…”
Sena deftly placed the basket on the desk where Sean was sitting.
“Sorry. You got stuck with the wrong person. I’m the type who absolutely has to repay a favor.”
Sena looked oddly triumphant. Sean, who had dropped his arms, straightened his upper body and leaned back against the chair.
“Moreover, I never said I wanted oranges. Even if you give them arbitrarily…”
“Ah… Do you have an orange allergy or something?”
“No…”
For Sean, there was a clear line drawn around his world. And the orange that had arbitrarily rolled inside that line was not a presence Sean had permitted.
Watching her earlier was just that—watching.
‘That doesn’t mean you can act familiar just because.’
That was it. The reason an unusually firm statement jumped out of Sean’s mouth.
“I’d like it if you respected me, my will, a bit more. Sena Lee Cruz.”
“Uh, uh…?”
“Why do you keep making me say the same thing? Once should be enough.”
Sean tilted his head and lifted his gaze.
“No matter how pretty you are.”
“Huh, uh?”
Sean didn’t mind Sena’s reaction. Saying what he had to say came first.
“You’re top of the class, right? Plus, you’re good at P.E., so I get why everyone looks for you first for everything. I get it all, but even so, not everyone automatically likes you.”
“Uh, uh, uh.”
“Then again, eyes as blue as yours are rare. Anyway—”
Finally, Sean lifted his gaze back to Sena’s face. The oranges were gone; a tomato sat in their place.
“…Are you hot?”
“Ah, I ran… all the way here, must be that!”
Sena flapped her hands, fanning her face.
“Anyway, what I mean is… I’m not that kind of person.”
“…What kind of person?”
You’re top of the class, so why can’t you understand right away? Sean furrowed his brow slightly and crossed his arms.
Just as Sean opened his mouth to say something, the moment his eyes met Sena’s, he slowly closed his mouth again.
“…Forget it. If you’re that hot, go get some air conditioning or something.”
“O-okay.”
Sena pressed her cheeks with the backs of her hands as if supporting them. Taking a step back, she turned around and quickly distanced herself towards the door with wide strides, almost like running away. Sean didn’t even have time to call her back.
Shouldn’t you take this back with you?
The expression on Sean’s face, now left holding the orange basket, contorted even more clearly.
“The smell of oranges…”
Sean used his arm to push the orange basket onto the adjacent desk.
It wasn’t that he disliked oranges. He just disliked having memories connected to such an ordinary object as an orange.
But it seemed it was already too late.
“Sigh……”
It seemed like from now on, whenever he saw an orange, Sena Lee Cruz would come to mind.
Sena broke her sprint speed record. It felt like it took less than 30 seconds to get from the library to the Lower School main building.
“Huff, huff.”
Sena’s head slumped forward, her hand braced against her locker.
It felt like her heart would jump out of her mouth. From running so hard, that’s why.
“No matter how pretty you are.”
Gyaaah.
Sena squeezed her eyes shut. It felt like a punch machine was relentlessly pounding her heart.
‘Calm down, calm… down!’
She had to get to her next class. Her hand groped painfully for the light-yellow locker.
But the moment she opened the locker, a neatly folded white paper fell thud at her feet.
“Huh?”
Sena bent down and picked up the paper.
As she checked the contents, Sena’s face gradually returned from its tomato state to normal. But by the time she finished reading the paper, her face was pale.
Sena, who had come to the library alone, transcribed something onto the white paper with a gloomy face.
Her gaze fell on the letter placed in the middle of the desk. All this trouble because of this letter.
Sena’s lips muttered the letter’s opening.
This letter started in New York.
‘Why, how did a letter that started in New York fly 2,000 miles all the way to my locker?!’
Sena, picking up the paper, bit her lip hard and reread the contents with tearful eyes.
This letter started in New York and makes one cycle per year, giving the receiver luck or misfortune. This letter, now delivered to you, must leave your side within 4 days.
You must send this letter, including this one, to 7 people who need luck. You may make copies, but if you write it by hand, you only need to send 3. You may think it’s a superstition, but it is true.
A person named HGXWCH in New Jersey received this letter in 1930. He told his secretary to make copies and send it.
…
US President Kennedy received this letter but simply threw it away. Eventually, 9 days later, he was assassinated. Please remember. If you send this letter, you will have 7 years of luck, and if you don’t, you will have 3 years of misfortune.(!Warning!) And you must never throw this letter away or scribble on it. If you tell others, this letter will become a cursed letter from that moment.
From the perspective of Sena, a Lower School student, if she wanted to ask someone to make copies, she’d have to show them the content. So the only method left was to write it out by hand.
‘And why is the content so long…?’
She had just finished writing out one copy, and her hand was completely numb. But the real problem wasn’t the labor of transcribing the letter.
‘What should I do? Who should I give it to?’
Put nicely, it was a letter of blessing, but it was a terrifying letter. The idea that ignoring it could lead to death…
‘Do I have to choose kids who look like they’d diligently follow through?’
Sena didn’t want to see any of the friends she’d known for years face the same dilemma. Just imagining it made her uncomfortable.
‘Should I risk it and post a note on the bulletin board to see if there’s anyone who desperately needs luck…?’
But is that possible within 4 days? Sena covered her face with both hands.
‘No. Should I just slip it into Stuart and his gang’s locker…?’
Sena immediately shook her head. They played mean pranks, but that wasn’t a capital offense.
In other words, for Sena, this letter was already a one-way ticket to the afterlife.
‘What should I do…?’
She didn’t want to die. She also didn’t want to put her school friends in mortal danger.
Even after sitting for a long time, writing so diligently her arms went numb, finally completing the 3 copies, Sena couldn’t get up from her seat.
It was almost time to go home soon.
Sena’s blue eyes, which had been gloomily sunken, blinked suddenly.
‘What if…’
Sena, gathering all the copies, immediately packed her bag.
“How is living in California treating you?”
Sean’s finger, sitting on the piano bench, tapped a white key. The clear sound of the white grand piano resonated through the quiet chapel hall.
“I’m living no differently. Don’t worry.”
Truthfully, there was no need to report so formally. The person his grandfather hired was probably watching and monitoring him from somewhere anyway.
Thinking that, Sean still smiled at his mother on the screen.
“I’m working on persuading Father. Once he realizes some things can be forced and others can’t, even he will give up then.”
“…Right, we have our lawyers prepared too. But you’ll have to stay there for a while longer; do the California kids seem to suit you?”
Do they really just surf all day? A faint sneer tinged the voice of Sean’s mother, Gloria. It was a reaction befitting the New York upper crust.
“…They’re innocent. Excessively so.”
In truth, he was answering while thinking of one specific person.
“Oh, is that so? Must be a bit frustrating.”
“It’s not that I dislike it.”
Not that I have any intention of letting them inside the line, though.
Sean pressed another key with a different finger. Simultaneously, at the sound of the chapel hall door opening, Sean’s head lifted.
