The dining hall felt impossibly large, Ethan sat at the head of the table, hands folded calmly as if this oversized room was nothing but a quiet office.
"Ever since we got here, our sense of time's been... off." Ethan said, his voice steady, eyes scanning the group. "But there's something else—something we haven't really talked about."
He paused, letting the silence settle.
"Some things just don't seem strange anymore. We've stopped asking questions. We're just moving forward."
Leaning forward, he added, "So here's what I think. If you notice something unusual, talk to someone about it. If you figure something out, say something. We might be able to piece things together and form a proper plan."
"And before all that," Ethan's gaze sharpened, "we need to address why we're even here in the first place. Ms. Nakamura didn't tell us before she went missing… so now, it's up to us to talk about it—to share what we remember."
I watched him, silent.
He's right. If we don't know why we're here, everything else is just stabbing in the dark. And that tends to be deadly.
I raised my hand, voice dry but alert.
"If we're all going to talk about why we're here or what we remember, then honestly… we're just gonna waste time."
A few heads turned toward me.
"Why don't we take a trip down memory lane instead? One person says what they remember, and the rest of us can compare and match it with what we recall. It'd be faster. Don't you think?"
Ethan nodded, considering the suggestion.
"That's… a good idea."
In this moment, we could ignore everything and charge ahead with the trial. But that'd be boring. More than that—it'd be a mistake. If we never uncover the real reason we're here, we won't accomplish what we came here for. And if what I remember is right… the objective is way bigger than anyone realizes.
I raised my hand again.
Ethan's brow lifted. "You got something to add?"
I smirked faintly.
"Not exactly. I'm just saying... I think I remember a lot more."
"And since Joker said I could think outside the box—so long as it's not about the trial itself—maybe I'm the best one to walk us through memory lane. If our memories don't match, we'll know something's wrong."
Ethan's voice was firm. "He might just be the loophole we need. Go ahead, Ren. Tell us what you remember."
I leaned back slightly, preparing to dive in.
"Alright then. Get ready."
So, we're going down memory lane. Which means a flashback is coming. And since we're diving into that, I won't be talking about it. We'll be going back in time of sort. You'll just have to follow.
I straightened in my seat.
"Do you all remember that day? The one where I suddenly woke up like I'd had a nightmare… after dozing off in class?"
---
Before we dive into the flashback, let's rewind a little—to the dream I had.
That dream was the reason I freaked out that day in class. But back then, I didn't know why it hit me so hard. Not yet. Even now.
In that dream, I remember running.
Just running.
The hallway was long—no, endless. The more we ran, the more it stretched, like some cruel illusion meant to trap us in a loop. And I wasn't alone. Two girls were beside me, sprinting just as fast. I couldn't see their faces. Couldn't tell what they were wearing. But they were real—real enough in that dream. And we were all running from something.
Then I heard it.
A voice. Faint. Struggling. Distant.
"Wait... please help me..."
I turned instinctively.
There was a girl behind us, trying to catch up. Her hand was reaching out, trembling. She was so close—almost near me. So close that if I'd stopped, I could've pulled her forward. But I didn't.
She was taken.
Something—whatever had been chasing us—snatched her like she weighed nothing. One second she was there. The next, gone.
And I froze.
Then I saw it. The thing chasing us. The one that took her.
It looked like someone I knew.
No—it was someone I knew.
Before I could even process that, one of the girls beside me vanished.
Just like that. Without a sound. Without a trace.
I panicked and turned to the last girl beside me.
She'd stopped running. She was just standing there, staring at me like I'd betrayed her in the worst possible way.
Her voice was low, sharp, broken.
"Wait… Don't tell me. It's you, isn't it? I see now. You're the Extra. So you were lying to us all this time."
My heart dropped.
I tried to speak. Tried to defend myself. But my voice cracked as panic clawed up my throat.
"No... You're wrong! I'm not—"
And then—
The dream blurred, smudging into something else. Something real.
A voice overlapped the chaos in my head, echoing through my skull like a twisted harmony.
"Ms. Rinka Nakamura, you are needed in the principal's office. Please report immediately."
It was the school intercom. But in that moment, it fused with the dream, blending with the girl's voice until I couldn't tell which part of me was dreaming anymore.
I jolted upright.
"No, you're wrong!"
My voice tore out of my throat as I sat up, breathless.
One of my hands shot forward. The other was gripping the desk so tightly my knuckles had gone red.
Everyone in class had turned to stare.
Great. Just great. Another reason for them to call me a freak.
Then I glanced to my right.
Kaida Katsuragi sat beside me, her eyes fixed on me with that same unreadable deadpan look. Not surprised. Not concerned. Just... watching.
I sighed quietly.
Turning away, I let my gaze fall to the window.
Yeah. Last seat, near the window. Cliché, I know. But right now, I needed that cliché. I needed something ordinary to cling to.
While I stared outside, trying to pull myself together from the weird, heavy mess of that dream, something else was happening.
In the principal's office.
---
Scene Shift – Principal's Office
Ms. Rinka had responded to the announcement.
She walked into the principal's office with her usual calm—the composed, unshaken air of someone who had seen and handled things far beyond most teachers' nightmares.
Principal Hoshino didn't greet her. She was flipping through a thick file, pages rustling under her fingers.
"You called for me," Ms. Rinka said smoothly. "Is there something you need, Principal?"
She paused, her voice low. Ominous.
"It has begun."
Three words. Just three.
But they made her freeze.
Ms. Rinka stiffened—just for a second—but that second was enough. Her mind caught up instantly. She knew exactly what she meant.
It was starting again.
The same nightmare from last year.
"Who is it this time?" she asked, her voice tightening. "Who's the first victim?"
Principal Hoshino closed the file slowly, each motion deliberate, heavy. "Hina Ashford. From the orphanage."
Her eyes widened.
Of course she knew who that was.
Hina Ashford... the woman who had taken care of me. The one person who gave me warmth when no one else did.
The one who made life at the orphanage feel less like a punishment.
Hina Ashford...
Was gone.
CHPATER END.