"We only live once"
Year: 2013, First day of Grade 8th.
Dustan Public School, The top International School in Dustan Town.
"Amyyyyy, my dear," Suzan called out, blowing her a flying kiss across the room.
Amy didn't react. She never did. Suzan admired her—almost worshipped her—but Amy never returned it. She spoke only when necessary, felt only what she allowed herself to feel. Emotion was a luxury she had long abandoned.
The classroom buzzed with careless chatter, laughter spilling over desks like noise without meaning. Then the door creaked open.
A new teacher entered. His eyes were covered with a strip of white cloth.
He's blind, Amy realized, her expression unmoving.
Silence lasted only a second before it shattered into cruel amusement. Whispers turned into snickers, snickers into open mockery.
"Lol," scoffed small forward Adam, the loudmouth from the basketball team. "What kind of joke is this? A blind teacher? What a loser."
His gang erupted in laughter, feeding off each other's cruelty.
Amy watched it all in silence, her eyes cold. The sound of their laughter sank deep into her chest—not surprising, not shocking. Just another reminder of how small people become when they sense weakness.
The teacher remained silent the entire time, a small grin resting on his face, his confidence unwavering—as if he were clearly up to something.
The chatter in the classroom continued for a few seconds.
Then, the teacher stepped one leg back—like an athlete preparing to sprint—and in a split second, he was no longer at his desk. He had already grabbed Adam by the collar, holding him close, staring straight into his eyes, that same grin never leaving his face.
The classroom fell into complete silence.
Trying to keep his stance, Adam scoffed, his voice shaking more than he wanted to admit.
"I'm not afraid of you, you blind loser."
The teacher said nothing. He only smiled.
With a single motion, he lifted Adam by the collar. Adam's feet left the ground. The teacher turned, carried him to the window, and spoke in a calm, almost casual voice.
"I can throw you off this window and walk away clean, Mr. Adams. You won't die—but you'll break a few bones. I'll file charges for bullying and stealing. You already have quite a record."
He leaned in slightly.
"And should I remind you what you did on the 12th of February? Just because you're a minor doesn't mean you're free to do whatever you want."
The silence in the school felt unreal—heavier than it had ever been.
Adam's eyes widened, frozen with fear. He didn't know how to respond. Finally, in a barely audible voice, he muttered,
"I'm sorry."
After shaking Adam to his core, the teacher placed him back into his chair. Then he calmly walked to his desk, sat down, and adjusted himself as if nothing had happened.
Amy didn't react.
But doubt crept into her mind.
He's blind… yet he sees everything.
Was it vision or his senses—or something far more precise?
And how did he know so much about Adam?
Amy wondered. He's a new teacher.
The man remained at his place, hands resting calmly on the desk, fingers lightly clasped. He waited—patient, exact—until the wall clock clicked to 8:00 a.m.
Then, as if nothing had happened, he straightened up.
A wide smile spread across his face, bright and warm, lifting the air in the room as though fear had never existed there at all.
"Good morning!"
His voice was cheerful. Normal. Almost kind.
"I'm Mr. Jino Jin."
He paused for a beat, letting the words settle.
"Shall we get started?"
The class stayed silent—too quiet for a greeting like that.
Amy watched him closely.
The smile. The timing. The confidence.
Something about him didn't fit.
And she knew— this teacher was not what he seemed.