The Letter of Misfortune

As the first club activity was drawing to a close, an unidentified letter suddenly popped out of the mailbox. The faces of the students in the club room froze in tension at this abrupt appearance.

"Let's all calm down first. There's no rule saying this letter has to be suspicious. Maybe someone secretly requested counseling while we were cleaning? Or it could just be a prank from one of the students."

I forced a smile to soothe the group and carefully observed the envelope.

"From what Observation shows, the letter itself is just ordinary paper...."

But I couldn't let my guard down. Just like with Muchia Leoporte during the Recognition Desire Monster ghost story, no matter how much I observed him, I couldn't detect any signs of the ghost story—because if the object was tied to a ghost story with a separate main body, even using a Gift wouldn't reveal anything special.

For now, let's check the contents of the letter.

What the fuck.

But even the excuse I hadn't fully believed myself shattered the moment I flipped the envelope to open it. On the back were the sender and sending details, along with a stamp bearing a distasteful image of something that could be either an angel or a demon.

A proper postal format. Information that wouldn't be needed for a regular club counseling box.

After all, even if it was a mailbox in the academy, anyone could just walk over and drop off a letter without filling out forms or stamps.

But what caught my eye was the sending location and sender: Hell and Angel of Misfortune. No one would think that was normal for an ordinary letter.

The students, who had checked the back of the envelope just like me, gasped and swallowed hard.

"...."

Whew. I couldn't show weakness in front of the students.

"Anyway, let's check the contents. Whether it's a ghost story or a prank, we have to read it."

I carefully tore open the end of the envelope and pulled out the letter.

Elaine was the first to speak after confirming the contents.

"...This is the Letter of Misfortune."

"Just from the name, I can guess what kind of ghost story it is."

In truth, "guess" was an understatement. This was completely similar to the "Good Luck Letter" from Earth.

The difference? The Good Luck Letter was high-risk, high-return—you spread it to others for luck, or face misfortune if you didn't. This Letter of Misfortune was high-risk, zero-return, far more vicious.

Elaine's explanation was similar.

"The Letter of Misfortune is an ominous letter supposedly sent from Hell, and without exception, those who read it suffer unfortunate events. The only way to avoid misfortune is to carry out the mission exactly as stated."

"Wait, mission? Not passing it on to others?"

"Yes. This time it's a mission to pass the letter to others, but you can't know what mission will appear until you receive it. The common point among them is that they all make others miserable—beyond that, they change every time."

"...That's different from what I knew."

"Huh? Teacher knows this ghost story too?"

"No, just me being mistaken."

I brushed it off vaguely to Elaine and pondered the letter's contents.

"So, are we going to send letters to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠others as instructed?"

Rone asked me then.

"No way. That'd be a trap. Ghost stories that grow stronger the more they're exposed to people—sending it out would just empower it."

"So, you're saying we'll tough it out without sending?"

"Yeah. Not only would it strengthen the ghost story, but fundamentally, we don't even know if this is a real ghost story or just a student's prank. The recipient is me anyway. A broken bone isn't something I can't handle."

"...If you put it that way."

Elaine looked dissatisfied but didn't oppose me in the end. Naturally, Rone, Aurora, and Rozalia didn't suggest alternatives either, so we decided to do nothing and wait.

... ...

... ...

Thirty minutes passed with nothing happening.

"Nothing's happened?"

"Yeah? It's already been 30 minutes...."

"Looks like that Letter of Misfortune was just a prank by some student after all."

"What a relief."

No incidents occurred even after 30 minutes, and they sighed in relief one by one. I did the same, inwardly.

Though I'd acted nonchalant, a broken bone was no joke.

"Guess the letter was fake. Since it's fake, let's call it a day and meet again tomorrow—"

Crack.

It happened then.

Unexpectedly, one leg of the chair I was sitting on snapped. My balance collapsed suddenly, and I tumbled off the chair.

Thud!

"Ah! Are you okay!?"

"Yeah, I'm fine.... Aaagh!!"

A sharp, electric pain shot through my right arm as I tried to say I was okay.

"Teacher's arm!!"

"Kyaaah!! The letter was real!!"

It started as a sharp, lightning-like sting, but soon a dull, throbbing agony crushed the fractured area.

Seems I'd hit it wrong in the fall. Just as the letter foretold.

"Teacher! To the infirmary right now...!"

"No. Dealing with the ghost story comes first. Infirmary after. Got a handkerchief? Lend it—I need to make a splint."

Luckily, my right arm wasn't fully broken, just cracked. A simple splint eased the pain quickly.

Supported by the students, I fashioned a makeshift splint from the broken chair leg and spat curses.

Whether from the pain or because the damn Letter of Misfortune was real, I couldn't tell. Probably both.

"Teacher. You okay?"

"This is nothing. ...Said I'd like to, but it hurts like hell."

I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠grimaced, pulled out a new chair, and sat again.

"As we feared, this Letter of Misfortune is the real deal. What now?"

It was then that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Aurora, who hadn't spoken much, curiously piped up.

"Didn't we already clear this ghost story?"

"...What?"

"We didn't follow the letter's orders and took the misfortune penalty. So the letter's contents are done—doesn't that mean the ghost story's resolved?"

"Th...at so?"

It did make sense.

"We can't do anything more anyway—the letter's demands are fulfilled."

"...Yeah, you're right."

I'd been about to suggest strategizing on the new chair, but with the letter cleared, there was nothing left to do.

So, it's over? Just like that? A bone crack was suffering, sure, but it felt anticlimactic.

Ghost stories don't resolve this easily.

Still, the club members' faces bloomed with cautious smiles. They were convinced it was solved.

I couldn't think of anything else to do either.

"...Then why hasn't the ghost story resolution message popped up?"

Rattle.

The mailbox on the club room table shuddered violently.

"...."

"...."

The room fell silent again.

"No way...."

Feeling uneasy, I opened the mailbox. Inside was another pristine white envelope.

Identical to the one from 30 minutes ago.

The ghost story was only just beginning.