The Life of Kodokuna Changed That Day…
Life for Kodokuna was going on as usual—quiet, unnoticed—until that fine day.
A new girl transferred into Class 11A of Mounagiri Gakuen.
Her eyes sparkled like held starlight. Her hair shimmered with a mix of blonde and moonlight silver. The entire class froze—awestruck by the sheer radiance she carried. She was breathtaking. So divine in her beauty that murmurs spread like wildfire:
"Is she even human?"
"She's like a goddess..."
But in the far back corner of the classroom, Kodokuna was struck by something entirely different.
It wasn't her beauty.
It wasn't her charisma.
It was the threads.
She radiated gentle golden threads, and they pulsed with such warmth—soothing, radiant, familiar. The very presence of her threads calmed the wild white threads that constantly flickered around Kodokuna. For the first time in years, he felt a strange… belonging.
The teacher gestured for her to introduce herself.
She stepped forward with quiet grace and said in a soft, melodic voice:
"Good morning to my teacher and my dear friends. I am Tamara. I'm looking forward to learning and making friends with you all. Thank you for having me."
She bowed politely, and every student in the room melted. Hands shot up, glances exchanged—everyone subtly trying to get her attention.
"Sit with me, Megami-sama."
"No, here! Sit beside me…"
An unspoken internal warfare broke out over who would claim the empty seat beside her.
But Tamara... didn't choose any of them.
She walked straight to the back of the class, to the only bench left untouched—the one beside Kodokuna. That empty seat everyone avoided, as if it carried a curse. And Kodokuna, the boy no one dared approach, suddenly found himself sharing space with a living miracle.
Whispers filled the air.
"Why would she sit with him? Doesn't she know he's cursed?"
"What curse? More like a boon... Lucky Kodokuna."
But Kodokuna wasn't listening.
Something far more profound was happening. Her golden threads, now closer than ever, reached out and intertwined with his white ones… softening them into a faint yellow hue.
Warmth. Real warmth.
Class resumed.
Suddenly, a classmate—Maya—dropped her pen. Her threads flared violet with panic. All eyes turned to her, and the tension wrapped around her like a noose. She was shaking, overwhelmed.
And then...
Tamara exhaled.
Her golden threads extended silently, subtly—like a whisper in sunlight—and reached Maya.
In an instant, the panicked violet threads shifted. They softened. Melted into a calm, greenish tint. Maya exhaled too, her shoulders relaxing as she picked up the pen with grace, as though nothing had happened.
No one noticed.
No one... except Kodokuna.
His breath caught in his throat. His hand gripped his sketchbook. The threads he'd drawn moments ago around Tamara shimmered on the page.
He hadn't even realized he'd spoken aloud:
"How... how did you... Do that?"
Tamara tilted her head, sunlight catching the silver strands in her hair.
She didn't speak.
She didn't look at him.
But Kodokuna knew.
She smiled.
Just a small, knowing smile—like she had known he would ask. Like she had been waiting for it.
Kodokuna's chest tightened.
As the school day ended, Tamara walked out quietly, her golden threads lingering in the air behind her before gently fading.
Kodokuna sat there, eyes closed, breath still. Something inside him had shifted.
But then, something else stirred.
Beneath the floorboards of Class 11A—deep below the polished wood and stone—something ancient moved. A pulse. A thread. Black, rimmed with a faint crimson heartbeat. Beating slowly, rhythmically.
Trying to wake.
Kodokuna snapped his eyes open.
And for the first time in years, he was afraid.