"Is it… all over now?"
"Yes, and completely. The so-called curse has ended with your class. Your kouhais will no longer be affected."
"That's a relief… then the tape we found before…"
"It's destroyed."
Late at night, the three who had searched the old classroom for Matsunaga Katsumi's tape—Naoya, Tomohiko, and Koichi—t with Rinji.
The tape claid that killing the 'dead one' would end the calamity, but Rinji had kept it sealed until everything was resolved.
"If the tape had been revealed before the identity of the 'dead one' was confird, suspicion would have spread, and with a bit of bad luck, it might have turned into killing each other."
Rinji looked at the three of them.
"You all must have had thoughts of killing, haven't you?"
"…"
Naoya and Tomohiko lowered their heads.
Knowing the calamity could be solved by killing the 'dead one,' they had indeed entertained the thought, though they never knew who it was.
"Thinking about it is fine. As long as you didn't act on it, just having those thoughts isn't shaful," Rinji said with a smile.
He pulled the tape from his pocket, crushed it in his hand, and dropped the broken case and tangled film to the floor. Then he lit it with a lighter, burning it to ash.
Now its contents were erased forever.
"With this, it's all over. You can return to your lives."
"Whew… it really feels like that month of living in fear was just a dream," Naoya laughed. "It's all thanks to you being here. By the way, what thod did you use to solve everything?"
"Special thods from professionals. Cut the curse off at its root."
"I see."
Tomohiko adjusted his glasses.
"As expected of soone who specializes in handling supernatural cases."
"You flatter ."
"…Takamine." Naoya looked at him with reluctant eyes. "You really… won't co back?"
"No."
"Even if it's a lie, you could at least say you would, damn it."
"Sorry. I'm not good at lying."
Looking at Naoya's clenched fists and sorrowful face, Rinji could only smile apologetically.
He knew—this farewell would be twenty years long. They would go on with their lives here, while he returned to his own ti.
"We're friends, right?"
"Of course."
All four smiled, bumping their fists together.
Naoya and Tomohiko went back to their rooms, but Koichi stayed.
"Takamine, this year's 'dead one' was…"
"Assistant horoom teacher Mikami Reiko," Rinji answered. "Your aunt."
"…She once told about Class 3-3. She was part of it back then. When the 'dead one' appears, mories are altered." Koichi touched his head with a wry smile. "I… rembered so things too."
He realized why he had really co to Yomiyama.
It wasn't for his father's work or to connect with his mother's hotown. It was to attend Reiko's funeral.
Half a year ago, she drowned at Yomiyama. His family had been devastated.
At the funeral, fragnts of mory had begun returning.
The black-and-white photo in his grandfather's arms was of Mikami Reiko.
"My aunt should have been dead, but…" Koichi looked toward the lit window on the inn's third floor. "Why was she still here…?"
"Her being alive was the key to breaking the curse," Rinji said with a smile. "Now, she's just a living person, nothing more."
"…Takamine, thank you. No matter what, I'll repay you soday."
"Tell when we et again."
---
The next day, the trip ended and the students returned to school.
They had wanted to spend a day preparing a farewell gift for Rinji, but hearing he would leave today, they could only protest helplessly.
After leaving the classroom, Rinji walked alone down the empty school corridor, looking around at the scenery.
This was his thirty-first day living in 1998. It all felt like a dream.
"Takamine."
"i."
Even without turning around, Rinji knew who stood behind him.
i tugged gently at his sleeve, speaking in the softest voice.
"Co with sowhere?"
"Sure."
He didn't refuse, walking with her deep into the school building.
They opened a classroom door. Inside were scattered easels and boards, each holding unfinished watercolor paintings.
"This is the art room. I'm a mber of the art club too."
She smiled and pointed to a chair in the middle of the room.
"Would you sit there for ?"
"So you want as your model," Rinji laughed. "But wait a mont—I don't want to be painted looking like this."
Looking around, he picked up a craft knife lying by one of the easels, used by art students to sharpen pencils.
His hair had suddenly grown long, and he didn't want to keep it that way. He tied it into a ponytail, then cut it clean off at the band.
The waist-length hair fell away instantly.
i stepped forward and caught the golden strands before they hit the ground.
"Your hair is beautiful," she said, stroking it. "Can you give it to ?"
"Sure, take it."
"Thank you."
She carefully placed the long hair on the desk, then pulled a pair of scissors from her pencil case and stepped behind him.
"Let tidy it up."
"Thanks."
The sound of snipping filled the quiet room as bits of hair fell to the floor.
Before long, his hairstyle was back to normal.
"There, it's done."
"Thanks."
After finishing, i returned to her seat, fixed a blank sheet to her board, and sharpened her pencil.
She observed him—sitting calmly with a faint smile—and began sketching.
The art room was silent, save for the sound of pencil against paper.
i drew quietly, and Rinji remained still as her model.
Even knowing their parting was near, neither spoke a word.
A basic portrait sketch could be done in three hours by a beginner, and i was no beginner.
But she took a long ti.
Perhaps because she wanted perfection, or perhaps simply to prolong the quiet ti together.
Only she knew which it was.
She seed unaware of the ti, only continuing to trace his image with her pencil.
There was no clock here, only the changing light outside the window showed the passage of ti.
The drawing lasted from noon until dusk.
It wasn't until the golden sunset stread into the art room that i finally stopped.
She set down her pencil, looked at the sketch before her—an image identical to Rinji—and gently laid a finger on the drawing, murmuring:
"I'll never forget you."
The sunset passed through the window, casting a red glow on i's cheek.
And on the model's seat before her, wrapped in the sa warm light, there was no one left.
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